When I read Dreamspinner Press' First Time for Everything anthology call, at first I was bereft of ideas. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a very raunchy scene, involving a group of friends on a bachelor night burst into to my head. Everything else, the characters, story, and narrative voice came from that scene.

A few readers - even those who otherwise enjoyed the story - resented that very scene, because it blows a loud raspberry at the old romance convention that the protagonists must always be pure. I like sticky affairs and the occasional moral ambiguity, and so I remain unrepentant.

Otherwise the story is sweet and romantic - even if I say so.



SO YOU wanna know how a straight guy like me goes queer? I’ll tell you. Of course, if you asked Jules, he’d talk your head off how I’d never been straight to begin with. He’d also go into this spiel of his about how there’s no such thing as straight and gay, or even bi, and that we’re all just sexual creatures with a variety of inclinations. Whenever he gets on his high horse like that, I remind him that he’s never fucked a girl, so he’s as gay as they come. He always gets all huffed up and brings up that one time when he ate pussy. It totally doesn’t count, if you ask me, as he didn’t even get hard doing it. I would’ve. I don’t tell him that, though. But back to my story: it all started on the night of Kev’s bachelor party, where Jules gave us a lesson that would’ve given Mrs. Putchnik, our high school sex ed teacher, a seizure. 

Kevin was the first one of us to get married. He’d been seeing the same girl for like four or five years, and they were crazy about each other, so we all knew it was coming. Kev’s always been a serious one, even as a kid. I should know—we’ve been friends for like forever, since kindergarten. 

There was also Johnny and Jon. The “two Js” were fraternal twins, surprising their parents at the hospital. They had been expecting only one. It was some fluke; the doctors got right embarrassed about it. Mr. and Mrs. Kowalski didn’t have a second name picked and couldn’t agree on one at such short notice. The one kid they expected was gonna be John after his father. So, just to keep things simple, they named the extra boy Jon.

The four of us became fast friends in first grade. My name is Lucas, by the way, but everyone calls me Luke. Kev and I lived on the same block and the Js just one street over. We hung around at each other’s backyards, pools, and basements growing up. Kev had a little brother, Julian—their parents named him after that Paul McCartney song. Well, I think it was mostly Mrs. Reid’s pick. Jules was a right little pest, always wanting to hang around us. He was only two years younger, but that’s a big difference when you’re a kid. We ditched him whenever we could, but he was a tenacious little fucker. Then there was Kev, who was just too damn responsible even back then, so if Mrs. Reid told Kev to take Jules, then we took the snot-nosed little brat with us. 

Now, Mrs. Reid never told us to be nice to Jules, and I can’t say we were. I must admit we were pretty tough on the kid. Nothing awful, before you get the wrong idea. No, what we did was we told him if he wanted to hang with the big boys, he had to keep up, because we weren’t gonna slow down for anyone. He was a scrawny little thing, so you’d think—we did, anyhow—he’d learn his lesson and stay at his mum’s apron. Not Jules, though. Did I mention he was tenacious? Yeah, I think I did. Stubborn as a damn mule too. He never complained either, never snitched when we got into trouble. So after a while we just gave in to the fact that there was no getting rid of Jules. For some reason, he followed me around even more than his own bro. Being the only one without a sibling, I kinda liked it. It made me feel older, more important. Of course, I never told him that. 

For pretend brothers, we didn’t look much alike. The others came from mostly Irish and Polish stock. I got some Irish in me, but I’m Italian on my mother’s side and always stood out with my dark hair in their sea of blond and light brown. I totally got a kick out of it when Jules looked at me with those huge blue eyes, like I was something special. All that just because I taught him how to ride a two-wheeler or something simple like that. He even tried to copy me. I remember the time he spent a whole day lying in the sun to get his pale skin darker, like mine. All he got was a wicked sunburn. We were peeling dead skin off him for days. Of course, as we were getting older, the age difference got less important, but Jules still liked hanging around me just the same.

The thing you have to know about us is that we always looked out for each other. Even Jules. Yeah, we were pretty hard on him, but we never let anyone else touch a hair on his head or say a cross word to him. Nobody—but we were allowed to hassle him. We were a handful and got into plenty scrapes, but whatever happened, we stood by each other. 

Jules didn’t make it easy. One evening at family dinner, when he was fifteen, he just put the silverware down and told his parents and Kev, in that calm voice of his, that he was gay. The Reids at first thought it was a bad joke, but they had to accept that their youngest son was serious. It blindsided them, no doubt; they didn’t know what to do with it at first. Eventually they came to accept it. They loved him, after all. You could say they’re proud of him even, though I think they were pretty relieved when Kev proposed to his girlfriend, Emily. The Reids wanted those grandkids pretty bad. 

Now, you can imagine the four of us kids were knocked for a loop. Jules had never said anything to us all those years, and we’d done all kinds of boy stuff that was put into a different light by this revelation. Johnny was the least troubled, as he was the most easygoing of us. His brother Jon was pretty pissed, though. I felt angry too, I tell you honestly. I didn’t even know exactly why. Kev set us all straight. He told us Jules was his little brother, no matter what, and we could either accept Jules the way he was or fuck off. So we accepted him. Yeah, Kev was like that. He’s got three kids now and is a great dad to them. 

So we all got back to the way we were before soon enough. We ribbed the fuck out of Jules, of course, but we also menaced the living daylight out any high school punk who’d dare to mess with him. Jules was in school for two more years after the rest of us graduated, but we were still in town, and not above thumping underage assholes. Jules weren’t a scrawny little thing by then either. I’m guessing hanging with us toughened him up. He was into sports, he was fast and strong, and he could take care of himself. He was a good-looking kid too, all blond and blue-eyed: a regular chick magnet. Totally fucking unfair. Not that he was a sissy, not by a mile. I once asked Lizzie Carpenter why they liked hanging around with Jules so much. She said it was because he was just like a regular guy, except he didn’t try to get into their panties. Unlike someone like me. She didn’t say that, but it was implied. I’m not complaining; I’ve never had a hard time getting girls. I had a certain “bad-boy” image going on. I had the muscles and the mug for it, and I could do the swagger too. Chicks dig that. It got me into Lizzie Carpenter’s panties, at any rate.

Now, you may ask yourself why I’m rattling on about all this ancient history when I was supposed to tell you about that bachelor night, but you had to know all the other stuff to understand how things could turn out the way they did.

It was a Saturday, a week before the wedding, and the four of us were taking Kev out on the town. It was the typical bachelor party stuff: a titty bar and too much drinking. Somewhere long past midnight, we headed back to Johnny’s place. He was in construction, did pretty well for himself, and had a nice house, so it was the perfect crash pad. His girlfriend agreed to stay with her parents for the night. Kev passed out in the cab coming back. We’d got him to drink more than we did, and he was a lightweight to begin with. So we put him in the bedroom and let him sleep it off. The rest of us weren’t ready to crash yet, though, so we sat around the living room listening to music, shooting the shit. Johnny dug out an old joint, and we passed it around. 

Somebody got the idea that we should watch some porn, since Johnny had a few DVDs lying around. So we did. Johnny had some quality porn, you know. None of that skanky stuff, but all top-shelf. So there we were, spread around on the couch, the La-Z-Boy, watching porn, getting hard. Now, you need to know this about guys: they ain’t too shy to get horny or even masturbate in front of each other. Well, maybe some are. We sure weren’t. Hell, when we were kids and were just figuring these things out, we were giving each other tips. We got hold of some skin mags and we’d sit around in the Js’ basement rec room and jerk off while their parents were upstairs. We even jerked each other off more than once. By the way, that don’t make you gay; it’s just a boy thing. We usually made Jules stand guard or go upstairs to make sure the adults wouldn’t come down. Not always, though.

So as I said, there we were, kinda drunk, kinda buzzed, and getting a fair bit horny. I noticed Jules palming the front of his jeans. That was strange, since we were watching straight porn and him being gay and all. I told him that. We all had a good laugh, calling him a closet hetero. But then he explained he liked straight porn fine, as long as the guys looked good. He got turned on by watching a hunky guy pummeling a hole; he’d just imagine it was his. Jules had never much talked sex with us before, and that’d been just fine with us, but ever since he’d gone off to college, he’d gotten more forthright about things. Jon commented that taking it up the ass was just wrong. Jules just shrugged and asked if any of us ever did it to our girlfriends, and what did that make the girl, in our opinions. He sorta had a point there, because there’s no straight guy who hasn’t at least thought about going there.

“Cheryl let me do it on my birthday,” I bragged.

“How was it?” Jules asked back.

“She made me take it out in less than a minute. She said it hurt too much.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the Js, who’d had similar experiences. Jules snorted.

“A bunch of clueless hetero dimwits you are,” he said. “You can’t just stick your dick in there. Of course it hurts. There’s a way of doing it.”

Johnny perked up at that, like a bloodhound picking up a scent. It occurred to all of us that, being bent, Jules might have come by some skills that could help us all score some hot ass. For real. When he saw us hanging on his every word, Julian started explaining about different kinds of lubricants. How we should use a water-based one with condoms, and how we definitely should be using condoms if we planned on screwing the girl the regular way too. It made perfect sense, of course. I told him that I wouldn’t even know what a water-based lubricant looked like, so he reached into his back pocket just like that and pulled out a packet and waved it at me. Some other foil packages fell out of his pocket too: condoms. 

So he went on explaining how to make the girl’s hole relax with your fingers and stuff. On the TV, the porn was still playing. A blonde with huge tits shoved a giant pink dildo between her legs just as Jules started talking about fingers. It was fucking strange, listening to him explaining stuff all calm and technical while the girl was moaning on TV. Maybe it was that, along with the weed and alcohol, that made me say what I did. 

“Why don’t you just show us?”

I couldn’t fucking believe I’d said that, but then we’d said plenty crude stuff to each other before. Jules could just take it as a joke, like he’d taken all the homo jokes we’d thrown at him in all those years. Instead, he gave me a wicked grin, stood up, and shoved his jeans and briefs down. We all started protesting, making a lot of noise, but he just said, “You asked for it,” and bent over the couch. He started fingering himself and talking all teacherlike, as if he was explaining the workings of the internal combustion engine. He had a nice, round ass, I’ll tell you that. From a certain angle, and if you ignored his balls hanging between his legs, it didn’t look much different than a girl’s. On the TV, two other chicks got into the action. I don’t know what the fuck possessed me, but I got off the chair, took the three steps to the couch, and put my hand on Jules’s ass. He just looked at me over his shoulder, eyes dark as night. A chorus of moaning came from the TV behind me. 

I can’t explain why I didn’t just go back to my chair and wank off. Something changed the moment I put my hand on him—I’d committed to something. Like a dare, you see? Aside from the moaning on the TV, there was silence in the room. I could feel all the eyes on me. I zipped my jeans down and took my dick out. It was hard as a rock and drooling. I picked up a condom and put it on. Jules let his hand fall away from his hole. He was looking at me, not saying a word but not moving either. I moved behind him and placed the tip of my cock right against his entrance—it was pink and furry. Jules’s head dropped down between his shoulders. As I pushed in, his hot tightness made me groan. I wasn’t the only one; the whole room moaned with me.

I fucked Jules’s ass like a dog in heat. You probably wonder what I was thinking of, but I wasn’t. I just hung onto his hips and pummeled him. He was tighter than I coulda imagined. Hot too, and the way his muscles clenched my cock made my knees buckle. It didn’t take me long to shoot my wad. As I stepped back, Jon was right there, ready to go next. Jules stood his ground, ass in the air, legs spread, letting Jon take him. I staggered back to the chair the way I was, my jeans halfway down my thighs. I was still clenching my cock, and it was still fairly hard. The rubber was full of my warm jizz, and that felt damn good as I rubbed my shaft. 

On the TV, a guy finally got into the action too; a big, muscular dude was banging one of the girls, who was spread out on a pool table. It didn’t look very comfortable. I’ve never got that about porn. In Johnny’s living room, it was an uncomplicated setup: Jules, bent by the waist, hands on the back of the couch for support, while Jon was pumping him from behind. Jon was a tall, slender guy, not very hairy. I have to tell you I was watching them, not the TV. I was transfixed, as they say. By the time Jon came, I was fully hard again.

Johnny was tall like his brother, but beefier. I’m muscular, but in a proportioned kind of way. Johnny was solid bulk. It was mostly muscle, but there was the start of a love handle around his waist. He was also the best hung of all of us, me being a close second. As Johnny pushed into him, Jules arched his back and moaned. That sound shot straight to my cock. Johnny was like a bull, all strong and confident. Not that Jules was girly. No, he was athletic, with lean muscles, strong thighs. And a muscular ass that was taking a serious battering. Johnny looked almost angry. Jules would tell you that sex is just sex, and as long as you’re all responsible, consenting adults, all that matters is that you enjoy yourself. All I can tell you is I knew it was just plain wrong to be so hard from watching one of my friends fuck the other; I was straight, after all. Somehow that guilty feeling just made it all the more hot. 

They were both making sounds that were pure sex. Far more real than the sounds coming from the TV. Jules grabbed his own cock and started jerking it. Then he turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder. He watched me spanking my meat while I watched them. Jules came, spurting his jizz all over the sofa. Seeing his face all screwed-up made me squeeze my cock harder. Johnny halted for a second, his face twisted like he was in pain, then he began to pound faster and more erratically. Shit, I think the two of us came at the same time.