Page 29 of Don’t Call Me Son

I’m about to reach over and turn the lamp off again when Archie shuffles in his sleep and hikes one of his legs over my hip. Oh. Okay. Now there’s really no moving; he’s like a fucking octopus.

I rub my eyes, way too intoxicated for this, and look back down at him. That’s when I notice, his loose boxers are showing everything because of his position. My brain short-circuits for a second. Oh my god…

My first thought, for some completely fucked up reason, is just how big that thing is. Archie clearly isn’t someone whose dick shrinks after he comes. He’s got to be someone whose dick stays big and simply hardens and thickens when he’s turned on.

I shake my head hard. What the fuck am I even thinking right now, Jesus Christ, Jay…

I flop my head back against the pillow and stare at the ceiling, trying to ignore the warm weight of my best friend wrapped around my legs… and the ridiculous monster currently resting in his boxers.

…

I’m just starting to drift off again when another shuffle and a soft, sleepy hum disturbs me. Archie isn’t even a loud sleeper, but he’s clearly restless or something. I lift my head, squinting in the dim lamplight, and realise it’s definitely ‘or something.’ He’s got a fucking boner now.

Oh my god. It’s twitching against my leg, thick and obvious through the thin fabric of his boxers. I freeze, brain short-circuiting. What the hell is the protocol here? Do I wake him? Not that he’d even wake up properly after drinking that much.

It gets worse, because Archie starts slowly grinding against my leg in his sleep; lazy, instinctive little rolls of his hips, like a dog humping a pillow. I let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh under my breath.

“What the fuck is happening right now…” I whisper to myself. My best friend is dry-humping my leg in his sleep.

My eyes flick down again… I should be grossed out; I should push him off. But I’m not disgusted, I’m… curious; way too curious.

I don’t know what comes over me, but I lean forward and tug gently at the hem of Archie’s boxers, pulling them down slowly, just enough to free him. His cock springs out, heavy and hard, even bigger than I thought; veiny. The skin pulls back slightly with every slow grind, revealing the flushed head. Then Archie lets out a little, breathy moan.

I cover my face with both hands, heart hammering. Why the fuck did I just pull his boxers down? Why am I actually letting him do this? He doesn’t even know he’s doing it. He’s dead asleep, probably dreaming about someone else… and here I am staring at my best friend’s ridiculously big dick rubbing against my leg, like it’s the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen.

I should stop this; I really should… I don’t stop it.

My heart is racing so hard I can feel it in my throat, but the sight of Archie doing that… slow, unconscious rolls of his hips, his thick cock sliding against my leg, the head already shiny… is heating me up in ways I never thought possible. I’m not gay; well, that’s fucking hilarious while I’m literally staring at another man’s dick like this. My best friend, no less. The same guy who showed up here needing comfort, not to be perved on in his sleep.

I’m so fucking intoxicated; that’s what I’m blaming right now. The beer… the late hour… the warmth of him wrapped around me. Definitely the beer.

I start moving my leg against him; slow drags of my thigh along his length, basically jerking him off with my leg. Archie lets out a loud, breathy moan that goes straight through me. My face scrunches up. Holy shit. That sound is filthy and needy, and it makes my own cock twitch hard in my boxers.

I need a breather… I stop moving my leg and exhale shakily, trying to get my head straight. This is wild; this is so fucking wild.

I carefully start untangling myself from him. Archie frowns in his sleep, a cute little annoyed scrunch of his brow like he’s pissed at the interruption. I can’t help but laugh quietly under my breath. I gently roll him onto his back so he’s more comfortable.

He yawns wide, stretching, and I freeze completely. Please don’t wake up. Please don’t wake up. Because how the hell would I explain the fact that his dick is out, hard, and glistening, while I’m sitting here half-hard and completely out of my mind?

I just sit here frowning, staring at it. Archie’s cock is standing heavy. It twitches every few seconds like it’s begging for attention; I can’t look away.

I move across the bed until I’m leaning over him, careful not to wake him, and just… look at his face, really look. His features are relaxed in sleep; soft lips slightly parted, long lashes, sharp jawline, that messy hair falling over his forehead. Objectively, yeah, Archie’s always been a good-looking guy. But right now, hovering over him like this, I realise something that makes my stomach flip.

Yeah… I find him attractive. I’ve just never noticed it before; not like this. I close my eyes slowly, letting that sink in, my heart pounding with strange and uncertain new emotions.

When I open them again, I hold my breath and gently pick up Archie’s hand, wrapping his fingers around his own cock, guiding him, encouraging him to stroke himself. Archie’s brow furrows deeper in his sleep, but his body takes over. His hand starts moving slowly, lazily pumping himself, like his subconscious knows exactly what it wants.

I watch, mesmerised, as his face shifts… lips parting further, little breathy sounds slipping out, that cute frown of confusion mixed with pleasure.

After a minute of hovering over him like a fucking creep, I can’t resist anymore. I pull my cock out, already rock hard, and match Archie’s rhythm, stroking myself in time with his slow, sleepy strokes. Christ, this is the strangest and hottest thing I’ve ever been a part of.

His hand moves a little faster, thumb occasionally swiping over the head. I do the same, biting my lip hard to stay quiet. The wet sounds of both of us stroking fill the quiet room. Archie lets out a soft, needy moan in his sleep, hips twitching up into his own fist, and I have to squeeze the base of my cock to stop myself from coming right then.

Fuck, Archie…

I’m jerking off inches away from my best friend while he unknowingly does the same, and I’ve never been more turned on in my life.

Archie lets out a loud, broken moan; raw and needy and so fucking hot it goes straight to my cock. I can’t hold mine in; a deep, guttural groan rips out of me before I can stop it. My hand speeds up on my own dick as I watch him… hips rolling, cock sliding through his fist, lips parted, face flushed with sleep and pleasure. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My best friend, drunk and asleep, jerking himself off while I watch like a pervert.