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My horny friend Logan

By oldcondom24

Description My best friend Logan is constantly horny, so I finally help him out with that.

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He had been acting strange for a couple of hours now. I hadn’t realized at the time, but now I know he was just horny as fuck.

Me and my best friend Logan were sitting in his room playing video games, and he had been restless and complaining about having too much energy for a while now. He sat in basketball shorts without a shirt on, and lay down on his back with a groan running his hands over his abs. Logan was borderline obsessive about his body, and worked out constantly. “I gotta do some pushups,” he said suddenly turning over and beginning. I watched him rise up and down quickly for a second, his large biceps flexing and stretching as the muscles contracted, and his tight ass flex in the fitting shorts, before turning back to the game and rolling my eyes. “You need to jack off,” I said jokingly but half serious.

Logan, it turned out, had hyper sexuality disorder, which was just a fancy way of saying he was constantly horny. We’d been friends since middle school, so by now in our junior year of high school I was used to his cocky, show-off, horny attitude he had 24/7. He was always flirting, and even though he was straight, he was just so horny he flirted with guys too, including me. He always walked around in as little clothing as possible because it turned him on, and he was ripped from the compulsive excessive exercise, so he turned on others as well.

He loved talking dirty and sexting—hell, we even borderline sexted each other sometimes. It had started in middle school when one day we started talking about our dick sizes out of adolescent curiosity, but it spiraled from there into us checking in with each other about how much our dicks had grown. I’d ask “Has your dick grown any?” and he’d reply, “Yeah another inch, it’s huge dude” and I’d reply with my growth. We’d talk about our ball sizes—Logan has massive balls and as they’d swelled bigger he’d talk about “how full I am all the time, I shoot so much when I jack off now”. From there it developed into us talking in detail about porn we watched, and describing what we wanted to do to girls. We were writing fantasies and I never realized it. When one of us was horny we’d text the other, talk about what we wish we could be doing, Logan would text “i’m jacking off right now i’m so horny” and I’d suggest a good porn video I’d seen or vice versa if it was me jacking off. We fed into each other’s sexual desires and amplified them.

Due to my lack of knowledge, being young I had no idea that this wasn’t normal straight guy behavior in friendships. I thought it was perfectly normal for a friend to talk about how big his dick was and talk about how much he shot during his last orgasm. It wasn’t until Logan was diagnosed freshman year with hyper sexuality disorder I realized he was way more sexually charged than most, and that because of that a lot of lines had been crossed in our relationship. Logan was a normal guy though, he was very nice, caring, and a loyal friend. He was just also a horny little fucker.

Since his diagnosis and my realization that our friendship was a tad… abnormal, I had been setting boundaries and enforcing them. Not that he didn’t attempt to cross them 40 times a day.

Over the years me and Logan become closer as we stayed friends, and I realized that Logan was a rarity with guys. He was on the soccer team, which was very good as the horny shit could run out his libido, but he was still always charged despite that. Even though he was on a sports team he never became a douche or acted like them. He stayed genuinely nice, and because of that he was a popular guy. As he worked out more and more to channel his energy he grew nicely sized muscles. He was 17 so they weren’t developed like bodybuilders in their twenties possessed, but he was large for his age. Bigger than almost all the guys in our grade. Soccer had given him massive legs, he had large thighs, strong calves, and a large yet tight ass. His constant pushups and going to the gym had developed his chest into large round bulging pecs, accompanied by large biceps, triceps, and a wide back. He also had an impressive six pack, and that was what he was most proud of. He had a tic of always running his hand down them, as if making sure they were still there and being satisfied when they were, which had always amused me.

I joined the swim team in middle school, and was now a strong competitor in meets for the high school team, and over the years my body had developed to accommodate my aquatic hobby. I had a large chest and shoulders, a wide back, and a small torso with small but very developed legs. I was a walking triangle, but it was hot. I had shot up to six foot one this year, which gave me a wider reach. I also had a very nice ass, something I liked about myself but begrudgingly so, because having a large ass in swimming wasn’t an asset (pun intended). The further your ass stuck out the more resistance you had in the water, so I had been trying for years to slim it down to no avail. It just got more toned, but stayed the same size. It was a gift and a curse. Logan loved my ass. He frequently talked about what a good butt I had and was always jokingly slapping it. I knew it was another line blurring in our friendship, but I let it slide because it secretly turned me on, and it was flattering. Also, I knew he couldn’t help himself. I really felt for Logan, the guy was constantly horny that had to get old.

He’d jack off up to four or more times a day sometimes, and had sex as much as he could. He was sort of a legend at our school, because he had had sex with almost half the girls in our grade. His nice personality mixed with his cocky, sex-oozing demeanor, combined with his six foot one height and ripped body, made girls swoon, and he wasn’t seen as a fuck boy because he was so polite about it. The girls he invited over knew he didn’t want a relationship, but they knew he’d provide amazing sex and would be a gentlemen, so they were cool with it. The only impolite thing he did was he would tell me about his conquests in explicit detail, but I was fine about it because the guy was an amazing story teller and, fuck, it turned me on hearing about his strong hands gripping the girl’s ass, his tongue running across her lips, around her breasts, and down her stomach. And to hear about how it felt when his golf ball sized balls slammed into her as he made her fingernails dig into his wide back with his nine-inch dick. His teeth grazing her earlobe, and feeling her shudder as she ran her hands down his huge pecs.

You get it. It was like my own fifty shades of grey, but it was my hot best friend so I could imagine every part of his body moving.

In a way, Logan being the way he was really worked out for me. I found out I was bi sophomore year, and tentatively came out to him. He was completely cool with it. His constant hard on of a personality made him understand the appeal, and he didn’t judge me. It made a huge difference having someone know and be so supportive through high school about it.

Anyway, enough backstory. Logan was doing pushups, and I had told him to just whack off already.

“Yeah, I better,” he said, standing up and excusing himself to the bathroom. I hardly noticed—this was routine and had been repeated many times in the past when I hung out at his house. I continued playing the video game and switching to my phone for about ten minutes when he came back in, looking agitated and breathing a little fast, his pecs rising and falling. “No luck?” I guessed judging by his expression.

“No,” he said glumly flopping onto his bed face first.

“Sorry man,” I said sympathetically. “Wanna go outside? The cold might help clear your head.”

“Sure,” he said getting up. “But only if you walk in front,” he added, grabbing my ass.

I playfully shoved against him and retorted, “Buy me dinner first then we’ll talk.”

He laughed, punched me in the back and jumped onto me using my shoulders, then landed his feet back on the ground and wrapped his arms around my neck. “Let’s go get some food then,” he said, seductively close to my ear, and then touched his tongue to my ear while one hand rand around my chest. Logan had never so blatantly crossed over that far in his playful groping and flirting with me. He must really be horny tonight.

I elbowed him in the stomach, hitting his hard abs, but still making him huff out as he laughed breathlessly at my reaction and slide his hands off me. “Get in front of me asswipe,” I said, slipping behind him and shoving against his wide and warm back.

He stumbled forward a little and laughed again. “Sorry man, I’m thick in it tonight.”

I shook my head but smiled as I followed behind him. “You need to go run a mile.”

“That would just turn me on more,” he said as we stepped out his front door, quietly so as to not wake his parents. We both braced ourselves against the chilly October air.

Damn, Logan really was horny. Over the years I’d seen the different levels he reached. Some could be solved by jacking off four times, or a quickie with some girl and running a mile or working out for a couple hours. Sometimes it took all of the above to curb his appetite, and sometimes when he crossed over to the highest sexual plane nothing worked. It didn’t happen often, but when it did he became a manic sex god. In times like that masturbating or having sex only made him hornier, and he could go for hours without stopping. He had practically no refractory period, he’d cum and just keep going again and again up to four times in a row. And even after he had to stop it would only be for like 10 minutes and then he’d be bursting at the seams to go again for another three hours.

Working out and running only revved him higher. He said when he gets that wound up it just turned him on to feel his muscles flexing and pump bigger, and to feel his legs pushing him forward, his pecs bouncing, bulge swinging in his shorts. The simple movement of his clothes across his body gave him a boner, and he was insatiable and could focus on nothing else until the manic episode passed.

“You getting manic?” I asked, and saw him nod his head.

“Yes, and it’s the strongest one I’ve had,” he said running has hands down his abs and lingering on the lower part of his stomach.

“You wanna just walk around?” I suggested, but he shook his head.

“Not really, but the cold is helping. You wanna go up to the tree house?”

“Sure,” I replied with a half laugh mixed with some confusion, as we hadn’t been up to his tree house in years. I followed him up the ladder, and squeezed myself through the opening. Both our six one bodies had to lean a little to fit under the low ceiling, and I sat uncomfortably and stared at him as I waited for him to reach the same conclusion that this wasn’t that fun. He wasn’t paying attention to me though, he had slouched down a little so his head could lean up, and he rested it against the wood wall as he absentmindedly moved his right hand up and down his large thigh, and the left one laid on the lower part of his stomach. He looked almost in pain.

“What’s it like being this high?” I suddenly asked, plagued with the sudden curiosity to understand what he was going through.

He sighed and met my eyes, “It’s… it’s like I can smell sex,” he said, looking at me with an embarrassed expression. “I know it sounds weird. But it’s like all my senses become heightened. I can smell it, taste it, and feel it. I need it so bad my skin is on fire. I need it more than air.” He trailed off and looked down, looking angry. I knew it was self-loathing he was feeling. He hated being this wound up. It made him feel not in control of himself. He had voiced to me that he felt like an animal when he got like this. He didn’t feel human. He hated knowing he would do anything to get sex at those moments.

It also tied into his standards for himself. Having this condition meant he had had to develop Herculean self-control, and when he felt he wasn’t meeting that he was disappointed in himself. He felt he should be stronger. It made me sad to think how hard he tried, and how much he didn’t realize he won.

“I need to try jacking off again,” he said starting to get up.

“You can do it here, I don’t mind.” I felt shock course through me as I heard the words leave my lips. I had said it from a place of sympathy, trying to be accommodating, but it had had other implications as well.

He stared at me, trying to read my expression. “You sure?”

“Yeah, go for it,” I said, nodding in his direction, then facing down to my phone. I studiously kept my eyes away from him as I heard his shorts slide off, and then his underwear. The soft sound of his hand sliding up and down his large shaft drifted through the quiet wooden rectangle, but determined to not be a perv I tuned him out and scrolled through social media. I tried to completely forget, but I couldn’t. I was painfully aware that his sweltering body was a few feet away. I faked a lack of caring, though, and wrote off my steadily rising horny-ness as a byproduct of just the fact Logan was hot. Not that they were serious feelings. I had felt things like this before, but always pushed it aside as a general lust that arose form Logan’s constant blurring of lines and sexual conduct. The fact he was a tall hunk with a huge dick was just like any random hot guy I could run into on the street or see online, it was just feelings towards beauty. Natural and reasonable, but to be ignored.

After about fifteen minutes a sigh of exasperation from him made me jump as it jarred me from my fantasies—excuse me, thoughts and I glanced over to see him stop fapping. I told my eyes to stay away from his equipment out of respect, so they rocketed down to his dick. It was huge in the glistening light coming in from the one window by the moon, and I could see an ample amount of pre-cum coating it, his large balls, and dripping down his thighs.

“It’s no use,” he groaned, leaning he head back against the wall and running his hands through his hair as he did when annoyed and tired. “I need a mouth or piece of ass.” He looked to me and waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna help?” he asked jokingly, resuming his usual not serious sexual banter.

It was the sudden and serious “Sure” that blurted out of my mouth that made the smile fade from his lips.

“What?” he asked, and before the rational part of my brain could stop it, my dick hijacked the controls and made me say, “I’ll help”. He raised one eyebrow and said nothing back, a look of shock on his face. This was new. He was the one always blurring lines, not me. I never encouraged, let alone replied in a dead serious way like this. He could tell I meant it.

“Are—are you serious?”, he asked quietly, a hint of humor underlying his tone.

“Yes,” I said quietly while nodding slightly, and then after swallowing loudly I added, “I hate seeing you like this. I’ll do this for you.”

His lips twitched at how my phrasing made it seem like a good deed, equivalent to volunteering at a soup kitchen. He didn’t seem to know how to respond. This was entirely unprecedented behavior from me, and I was just as dumbfounded as he was at my behavior. I could see how much he wanted it, the aching longing in his eyes. He wouldn’t express that to me, because he wouldn’t want to guilt trip me, but I could see it from years of growing attuned to his expressions. Neither of us said anything, but just starred at each other for about three seconds, after which he said quietly, “If you want to.”

The ball was in my court now.

The distance between us suddenly seemed immense. Don’t be a coward, I thought to myself, and I slowly slid closer to him. The closer I got it was like I could feel the waves of sexual energy coming off him. He was exuding testosterone and heat. He gazed at me approaching with eyes wide in surprise at what was happening. I saw him glance down quickly at my hands as I got to him, but I did not want to give him a handjob.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as I bent down in a flash and ran my tongue from the base of his cock all the way up slowly to the head.

“You’ve grown bigger,” I remarked as I went back down and ran my tongue up the left side of his swollen member.

“9 and a half inches now,” he said in a tone completely flabbergasted mixed with that thickness that comes with sexual pleasure.

A low and sexy moan escaped him as I enveloped my lips around his thick head, and slid his dick slowly down my throat. I couldn’t get but halfway down his overgrown endowment, but he was hardly complaining. I started going up and down faster which produced another “fuck” from him mixed with another moan. He ran his hands tenderly through my hair and gently gripped the back of my neck as I went down on him, he didn’t shove my head down though, which I appreciated. After about five minutes of steadily increasing speed I left his dick and trailed my tongue down to his balls. They were huge. They’d already been the size of golf balls, but now they were half a size bigger. “Your balls are massive,” I remarked quietly.

“They swell up with cum when I get this horny,” he replied, and then moaned quietly as I tried my best to get them both into my mouth. After a minute of that though he groaned and said, “You’re killing me,” which I understood to mean that he probably felt like he was going to light on fire and explode if he didn’t get release soon, so I moved back to working his dick. I tried reaching closer and closer to the base of his shaft with each time I went back down, but seven inches was the best I could do and that was making me gag.

Eight more minutes in and I recknoed he was getting close, as his breathing was speeding up along with his pulse, which I could feel from the throbbing of blood in his massive cock around my lips. I picked up my pace to drive him over the edge, forcing myself further down another inch of his cock through sheer willpower and a strong hold on my gag reflex. “I’m gonna cum!” he informed me breathlessly, which I realized was his warning if I didn’t want him doing so in my mouth. I informed him of my reply to that by tightening my lips grip on his shaft and going even faster up and down, practically giving myself whiplash at this point. His climatic orgasm came forcefully and suddenly. His grip on the back of my neck tightened, his massive cock swelling a fraction larger. His back arched slightly, and I felt massive amounts of his hot cum shoot into my mouth. Fuck, I thought to myself as I moaned quietly, even his cum tastes like sex. It wasn’t the way normal cum tasted, as I had tried mine before out of curiosity. It tasted like he smelled and the energy he exuded; testosterone, the sweet yet salty stench of his sweat, and a third component I had no words to describe that made me impossibly hornier and euphorically entranced in the moment.

Completely lost in the experience he rolled his head back and moaned loudly, while he shot load after load down my throat. I focused on keeping up with the massive amounts of semen emitting from his bloated balls he emptied into me for about a minute and a half. Each time he shot another stream I noticed he seemed to be getting more and more riled up. His grip on my hair continued to tighten, his breathing became heavier and more labored, and his moans were turning into growls.

Finally, after what felt like two minutes of shot after shot of cum the flow ceased. I began to rise up off the monstrous shaft when suddenly his hand tightened to a painful level, pulling my hair, and I felt the full force of his bicep shove me all the way down his dick slamming my face into the base of it and his pubes. “Keep going,” he growled in a voice that didn’t even sound like his, and he bucked his hips once, shoving the cock somehow even deeper down my throat. I gagged profusely and resisted against his grip by shoving against the treehouse floor causing myself to rise some off the phallus I was being required to suck now. Feeling my resistance, I felt him suck in a gasp of air quickly and his hand left my head at once.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said as I popped his dick out of my mouth, a trail of spit mixed with his cum trailed from the head of his dick attached to my lower lip until it broke. I met his expression and saw he looked embarrassed and immensely ashamed as he repeated, “I’m so sorry.” He met my eyes for a second then looked away. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.” He looked and sounded like he was about to cry.

“Look at me,” I demanded and used my finger to turn his face to meet mine straight on. His apologetic eyes meet mine, yet I could still see the intense desire and sexual energy burning behind the guilt. I knew what had happened as I realized he was just warming up. When he was manic, ejaculating only made him even hornier, and increased his aroused state to an even higher peak. I knew he wasn’t thinking straight, and his blatant shame toward losing his head momentarily again demonstrated how hard he fought to maintain control over the heavy fog of lust and need for release.

“It’s okay,” I said slowly, not breaking eye contact with him. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

I was taken aback by the emotion in his eyes. They were still wide with surprise at the situation unfurling, but something new and different was present on his face. He leaned in so that our faces were as close as they could be without touching, and without warning he brought his lips into mine. The kiss was slow, tender, and careful. I opened my mouth, breathing hot air onto his face as he ran the tip of his tongue across the edge of my upper lip, causing me to shudder.

“Fuck me,” I whispered.

“What?” he asked incredulously, leaning back and shaking his head a fraction. “No, I can’t ask that of you. You don’t need to—”

I cut him off with one quiet laugh that made him confused. “Do you really think I’m doing any of this because I don’t want it? I know I don’t need to.”

I leaned in to whisper into his ear quietly, “I want to. I need you.” And then I grazed across his ear lobe with my teeth, causing him to shudder this time.

“I could hurt you,” he responded.

I leaned back out to meet his eyes as I replied, “You could, but I know you won’t.”

“Christian… I can’t control myself like this, what if I lose it?”

“Just kiss me,” I retorted pulling him in as I laid down. I gazed into his brown eyes, so dark they looked black, as he leaned in to bring his lips back onto mine.

I felt him slowly loosen his control. The way his lips moved were different this time, less careful and more passionate. His right hand ran down my ribs and made its way to grip the side of my ass and thigh, holding it tight. He pulled up to breathe. “If I start to hurt you, you have to tell me.”

“I will,” I assured him, eager to end his anxiety so he could give himself in and really enjoy this.

He grinned, and finally I saw the Logan I’d been friends with for seven years. “Okay” was all he replied, and he dove back down to resume where we’d left off.

God, he was an animal, I fucking loved it. He moved over to my neck, kissing and sucking it, causing me to moan in pleasure. From there he moved down to my large and wide chest to suck my right, and then my left nipple. He then slid his tongue down my abs, and moved to my cock, which was so hard it felt like it would explode. “Damn.” He remarked looking up to meet my eyes and raising an eyebrow, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Nine inches now,” I replied proudly.

He shook his head slightly and laughed, “I’ll try my best” before diving down on it.

“Aren’t you hurting to keep going?” I asked through a gasp as I felt his mouth run down my dick.

“You first,” he said determinedly, and although he sounded resolved I knew what I felt it was for him to put me first while he was so turned on right now. A shark that had tasted blood, but stopped feeding. I got a little emotional as I realized he was putting me over himself and his needs. He wanted me to be pleasured first. What a turn this night had taken.

He worked my dick for about seven minutes, but I stopped him when I felt myself getting close. “Stop,” I moaned grabbing his hair and holding his head tenderly. “Not yet. I want it to last. We can’t all cum five times in a row continuously.”

He laughed as he rose up, and with excitement coating his tone he said, “Turn around.”

I obeyed, and I heard him groan in appreciation as he used both hands to grab my ass.

“You don’t know how long I have wanted to do this. Your ass is god-like.” I looked over my shoulder to see him leering at my ass as he slicked himself up with his own copious supply of precum.

“Despite my best efforts,” I replied, and he chuckled as I felt him spread me and enter slowly.

I exhaled forcefully at the girth of his monster. “You okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Okay is an understatement, keep going.” The amount of pre-cum he had been continuously making acted as an amazing lube to make it easier on the both of us. He pushed in a bit further causing an explosion of ecstasy. I was impatient for him to fully enter. “Stop holding back,” I commanded in a tone I had never used before.

I heard him mutter something that sounded like “So eager to get impaled” but my ears were not fully functioning because he listened to me and shoved the remaining eight and a half inches in all at once. I audibly gasped, felt my teeth grind together, and my hand clench, but all in all I took it like a champ. He didn’t pause to ask if I was okay any more. He had taken the hint that I knew what I was getting into now, and he was proceeding at full speed.

Description My best friend Logan is constantly horny, so I finally help him out with that.

Votes(8)
Talk
Views
4,136
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5,033
Updated3 Nov 2018
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