Derf

Standard disclaimer: If you are under 18 (or under 21, depending on the laws applicable where you reside), or if you are offended by graphic descriptions of male/male sex, READ NO FURTHER. Otherwise... enjoy!

DERF

Part 1

I went to a party that my friends Lisa and Sharon had one Friday when I was in college. It was your typical college beer bash: A bunch of us got drunk and silly and in general had a great time. But when it came time for people to go home, I was just too trashed to drive back to my own apartment. So was "Derf" (whose real name was Fred), a tall, genial fellow; so the two of us decided to crash at Lisa and Sharon's.

Now Don and Chet, the girls' boyfriends, were also spending the night, and there were only the two beds; so Derf and I were left with nothing but the couch & a bunch of kitchen chairs. Due to the shape of the rooms -- it was a regular maze in there -- and to the fact that (as after any college beer bash) the floor was damp with spilled beer, there wasn't even enough room on the floor for either of us to lie down. So we had to share the couch.

Derf stripped to his little blue bikini briefs, but I just took off my jeans to sleep in my T-shirt and boxers. Then each of us curled up at one end of the couch. Sharing the one blanket Lisa had to spare for us, we fell asleep (or maybe a better way to put it is "passed out").

In the middle of the night, I woke up, needing to use the bathroom. I staggered on down the hall past the girls' rooms. From the second room I could hear noises, which after an instant I realized were the sounds of the inhabitants engaged in sex -- and pretty good sex, too, from the sound of it. The door was just a bit ajar, and I resisted the urge to peek at the proceedings. But the walls were thin, and as I relieved myself I could hear them carrying on. I began to get horny, and fortunately managed to pretty well empty my bladder before I developed a hard-on.

The big disadvantage to boxer shorts is that it's virtually impossible to keep an erection inside them, especially when your cock sticks straight out like mine instead of straight up like some guys'. But I was pretty drunk, so I just shrugged and crept on back, my cock swaying before me. When I reached the living room, I saw that Derf had stretched out, leaving me no room at my end. There I stood in my boxers and T-shirt, with my boner sticking straight out in front of me, looking down at Derf. I didn't want him to see my state, but I knew I had to wake him up or sleep cramped on the floor. I stood there for a little while, trying to will my cock back to complacency; but the noises from the bedroom, though muffled, could still be heard out there in the living room. Picturing Lisa and Chet -- who were a very attractive couple -- kept me aroused despite my best efforts.

So I decided to try another tack. After a bit of experimentation, I discovered that, if I crouched beside the sofa, my hard-on would pretty much be invisible between my legs in the darkness. Squatting down, I shook one of Derf's blanketed calves. There was no reaction. I tried again, harder. Still nothing happened. "Derf," I whispered. "Hey Derf, wake up."

"Mmmph," he mumbled, and rolled over, exposing most of his muscular back. Something tightened in me. Somehow, crouching there with my erect cock barely visible, staring at his exposed skin, was disturbingly erotic. I felt a sudden urge to touch him; so I shook his shoulder vigorously.

"Whadyawawn?" he grumbled, turning partway over. "Howcum yur onna floor?"

"I had to piss. Man, give me some room."

Muttering something incomprehensible, he curled up his legs partway and rolled back away from me. I slipped quickly under the cover, breathing a prayer of thanks that he hadn't noticed my condition.

Unfortunately, he still hadn't given me as much room as I needed. About the only comfortable position I could manage left my feet against the backs of his thighs, and his feet resting against my rear end.

I lay there for a long time, very still, listening to the voices from the other room. I couldn't make out any of what they were saying, but if that wasn't sex going on, then I was a virgin! I got hornier and hornier, and even toyed a little with the idea of trying to join in; but at last the moans and grunts subsided, and all was quiet. Still, there I lay with my raging hard-on, utterly unable to sleep.

After a while I felt Derf stirring in his sleep, and his legs straightened out. His one foot wound up sticking up the back of my T-shirt. The new position pushed me almost to the edge of the couch in a precarious way, so I figured I'd better readjust my own position. At first I tried just straightening out my own legs, but that didn't help much; so I rolled over on my other side. Derf's foot wound up tangling my shirt as I rolled over, and I found I had to lift up his leg a bit to extricate myself; but without taking off the shirt, there was no easy way to get his foot out from inside it.

Now I lay facing the back of the couch, with Derf's foot tucked up inside my shirt against my chest, and my hard-on nudging the back of his thighs. For a while I tried lying in a crooked position to keep my boner from touching him, but it was killing my back. I figured, what the hell, he's asleep, he won't notice; and I stretched out alongside him. The tip of my cock was wedged between his thighs, a few inches below his ass, and the contact was only making me hornier.

I had never really thought about having sex with a guy before -- at least no more than any hyperhormonal teenage male thinks about sex of any variety. But the prolonged and extensive bodily contact with Derf, in my already-aroused state, combined with the inhibitions lowered by alcohol, was rapidly making me find Derf eminently desirable. I squirmed a little, rubbing my cock up and down the cleft between his thighs. It felt good, that firm, tight, hairy passage. I pushed a bit, and gradually managed to wedge my cock firmly between his thighs.

I hadn't ever tried anything like this, but I was enjoying it. Slowly, ever so slowly, careful not to wake Derf, I thrust my cock in and out, rubbing it between Derf's lean, muscular legs. Gradually, as the drive to come took over, my thrusts accelerated, and I felt my orgasm approaching rapidly.

Then, suddenly, Derf rolled over, pushing me onto my back in the process. When he was done, his left leg -- still inside my shirt -- was thrown across my torso, with his foot tucked in my right armpit. His right leg was pressed against my side, and his arms loosely embraced my ankles. I could feel the bulge of his genitals through his briefs pressing against my thigh, and my own cock was just touching the upper side of his thigh as it crossed my body.

I was going crazy with lust, but in the position I was in now, I didn't think I could do anything without waking Derf. I tried moving my left hand into a position where I could jack off, but his leg made that next to impossible. What's more, my shirt now was tangled uncomfortably about my torso. Carefully I began to work it up my body, trying to get it off (so to speak). I got it up to my armpits, but any progress beyond that meant risking touching his leg to untangle the shirt. I lay there and pondered my dilemma.

As I breathed in and out I could feel the hairs on my belly and those on his leg touching. Every now and then my cock twitched, nudging his thigh.

I was at a complete loss for what to do next.

Suddenly I heard the door to one of the bedrooms open, and somebody coming up the hall toward the living room. There was no hope of pulling a cover over us to hide our entanglement. I could try rolling over -- but what if that woke Derf, with his foot up my shirt? No, I decided the safest bet was just to pretend to be asleep. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing low and regularly. Whoever it was passed through the living room and into the kitchen. I heard water running, and the sound of drinking. Then the person passed back through -- and stopped beside the couch. I could sense the proximity of another person, hear the slightly ragged breathing -- but I had no idea whether it was Chet or Lisa or Sharon or Don.

I ought to have felt embarrassed, to be so obviously stared at, in such a compromising position with another man, and so obviously erect; but somehow the whole thing only aroused me further. I was tempted to open my eyes, but the mystery was too enticing. After the longest time, I noticed a regular, low, rubbing sound, and heard the breathing grow more rapid and animated. It took me a while to identify it.

Whoever it was was masturbating! I grew increasingly certain that it was Lisa -- the breathing seemed to be pitched too low for Sharon, and I knew that Lisa found Derf quite attractive. The thought that a sexy girl like Lisa was getting off looking at me -- and at Derf, too, I had to admit -- made me even hornier. I found myself hoping that she'd try touching my boner.

No such luck, though. In almost no time I heard the breathing accelerating suddenly, then a gasp -- and then I felt something hot and wet spattering on my legs, on my belly, and on my cock. Drunk as I was, the peeper had hurried on down the hall again and was closing the bedroom door before I fully realized what that hot liquid was.

Lisa was not the one who'd been masturbating. Neither was Sharon. It had been either Don or Chet -- and whichever it was, his come was now dripping down my stiff prong.

To hell with it. Derf or no Derf, I had to come, and soon, or go mad. I reached over his thick beefy thigh. Half embracing it in my left arm, I rubbed the sticky liquid up and down my own shaft.

It was around then that I noticed that Derf's own genital bulge, pressed against my right thigh, was getting warmer and harder. Panicked, I froze.

Was he awake? Or was it just a nighttime erection? And if he was awake, could he tell what state I was in, what I was doing?

Then I thought, does that matter? If he's awake, he's obviously, like me, being turned on by the whole thing; and if he's not, what difference does it make? So I resumed my efforts. Then he squirmed a little -- awake, in his sleep, I don't know, but it rubbed his growing bulge against my leg.

I grew bolder; I maneuvered my right arm so that it wrapped around Derf's leg that lay pressed against my side. Then, ever so carefully, I began foldling his ass and perineum, and the little bit of his balls that I could reach, all enclosed in his skimpy briefs. This caused his cock to harden even faster, and he squirmed again. Still rubbing my own come-encrusted dong, I managed to poke a finger under the edge of the material of his bikinis to feel the hot, sweaty, hairy darkness inside.

Derf, without warning, shifted position again, this time ending up in a semi-foetal position, with his knees bent, and his thighs embracing mine and his calves around my waist. His cock surged to nudge my thigh in full erection, and I could feel the tip of it just poking above the elastic of his briefs. This new position enabled me to slip most of my left hand up one leg-hole of his briefs. I cupped his big, hot balls in my left hand while with my right I maneuvered my cock into the cleft at the back of his knee. Then I began pumping my hips, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

Derf began to do the same. The first couple of times it seemed just like he was squirming a bit again, but it grew more regular, and more obvious. I knew then that he was awake, and evidently thoroughly enjoying our little rendezvous. This knowledge made the whole thing even hotter, and in no time at all I was pumping my load all over his hairy, muscular leg, with my left hand squeezing his balls tight.

Derf continued thrusting his hips for a minute or two more. I felt his balls twitching, and a scalding wetness spread against my thigh. Spent, satisfied, and still very drunk, I finally fell asleep in that position.

In the morning, neither of us said anything about it. I'll admit it shook me up for a day or two, but I wrote it off to the beer and figured it for a one-time thing.

Derf part 2

Well, as the end of my junior year rolled around, I was in danger of being without a place to live next fall. My roomies were all graduating, and I couldn't afford the rent on the house myself. So when Fred (whom everybody called Derf) mentioned that he needed a roommate for his efficiency apartment, I jumped at the chance. (By that time I had all but forgotten my little drunken encounter with Derf at Lisa and Sharon's apartment. He had never spoken of it, and neither had I. After a little soul-searching, I had written it off to beer and freshman hormones, and it became just one more in a long, long list of "stupid things I've done when I was drunk".)

Derf was a tall, genial, limber fellow majoring in business. I knew he had played basketball in high school, but he hadn't made the cut at college. I was a big basketball fan, and my major ("Music Marketing", if you can believe it) required a lot of business courses, so we had a lot in common. We spent a lot of time together socially, and had a lot of the same friends already. We moved in that fall and we got along great.

Our one regret about the efficiency was that there was no way we could have a party there. It was crowded with just the two of us in there. We had room for two twin beds, a dining-room-table/desk/bookcase/catchall, a couple of kitchen chairs, and one hell of a tiny stove. The fridge -- one of those little jobbies -- had to go under the table. There was only about a two-foot gap between the beds, and the table butted up against the foot of my bed. The closet door had to be propped open, or Derf's bed would have blocked it shut. If he was in bed when I was getting dressed in the mornings, I had to climb over him to get to my clothes. The bathroom was so tiny that you couldn't sit down straight on the toilet without either bumping the corner of the sink or brushing the shower curtain. It got so claustrophobic in there, and Derf & I were casual enough around each other, that we just never shut the door.

To make matters worse, we had no control over the heat. The landlord, a mousy little French professor, had the only thermostat in the building. Some days the apartment was so cold that we wore sweats and wool scarves to bed to keep from shivering, and some days it was so hot that we stripped to just our underwear. The one window in the apartment was painted shut.

Well, that semester my parents decided to go to Hawaii for Thanksgiving, so I had no reason to go home over break. Derf's family lived in Canada, so U.S. Thanksgiving was no big deal for them. He and I decided to just kick around campus during break.

Well, the landlord had gone away for the weekend, and the apartment was sweltering hot. To make matters worse, that was the year that we had a real late Indian summer. On Thanksgiving Day the temperature got up to 72 degrees. Derf and I had fixed ourselves one of those turkey rolls and instant mashed potatoes, and we got a big bottle of wine for the occasion.

Cooking dinner only added to the heat in the apartment. By the time dinner was over, between the heat and the alcohol, we were sweltering.

Derf had spent the day in just his bikini briefs, and me in my boxers. During dinner he had stood up suddenly and taken off even his briefs, complaining about the heat. We'd seen each other naked all semester, so I thought nothing of it. I shucked my boxers too. We finished dinner and then left the dishes and food on the table. Then I sprawled on my bed, and Derf sat down in one of the chairs.

"It's too fucking hot in here," he said. I saw a bead of sweat roll down his belly toward his crotch. "Let's go see a movie or something."

"Derf, There's only one theater in town, and we already saw all the movies," I said. "Besides, I'm broke."

"Hell," he said. Neither of us said anything for a long time. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his head, and closed his eyes. His lean, limber body shone faintly with sweat that beaded and trickled here and there, and pooled in the hair on his chest, at his belly, in his crotch. I suddenly remembered the two of us, drunk and silent, humping against each other in the dark that night our freshman year, and I felt a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. Derf opened his eyes. My cock twitched. Derf saw it. I felt my face go red.

He picked up a carrot stick and threw it at me. "Fuckin' faggot," he said cheerfully.

My cock was swiftly growing hard. I rolled over to hide it. Why the hell was I getting a hardon now?

Neither of us spoke for a long while again. I thought he was dozing, and I hoped he would fall asleep altogether, so I could go take a shower and jerk off. I snuck a peek at him, and realized that he was watching me with a funny look on his face. He had also sat up and leaned forward, with his arms resting on his knees. I could no longer see his crotch clearly from where I lay.

"Doug," he said softly, "you awake?"

"Mm-hmm," I mumbled. Shit, I thought, he wants to chat. And me with a world-class boner that won't go down.

"Doug, I want to talk to you. I want to ask you about..." His voice trailed off.

"... about what?"

"Nothing." He stood up and threw himself on the bed, face down.

I propped myself up on one elbow, keeping one leg crooked to hide my hardon. "What's the matter, buddy?"

"Nothing." His voice sounded strange. "Forget it. I'm going to sleep."

I waited, to see if he would say anything more. Then I rolled back onto my stomach. Despite my hardon, I fell fast asleep.

I dreamed about Derf's naked, athletic body, and woke up on my back in the dusk, shooting my load all over my chest and my belly. Derf lay snoring in the next bed, still naked, his back turned to me. The apartment wasn't nearly as warm; either it had cooled off considerably outside, or the heat had been turned down somehow.

I hadn't had a wet dream involving another guy since I was about twelve. It shook me up considerably. I didn't dare move; I didn't want Derf to wake up and see the cum all over me. I just lay awake, trying to make some sense of why I was reacting like this. True, it had been a long time since I had had sex of any kind. My girlfriend and I had broken up in September. And in that efficiency, and with all the time Derf & I spent together, I hadn't even had enough privacy for jerking off for almost three weeks.

That's it, I told myself. You're just horny. But the memory of humping Derf's leg that drunken night wouldn't go away, and neither would my boner. I could feel my cum trickling down my sides, into my armpit. I remembered how somebody (Don? Chet? -- I never had found out) had jerked off in the dark, shooting his load all over me and Derf that night, and how I had used the mystery person's semen to jerk off myself after he stole away.

As silently as I could, I scooped up the trickles of my own sperm and started rubbing it into my cock. I figured if I could come again, I could get back to sleep and everything would be back to normal. I kept one eye on Derf's back, to make sure he didn't wake up and catch me beating my meat. My eyes strayed to his ass, and I remembered fondling that ass in the dark, and feeling him shooting hot semen through his briefs against my leg, on that long-ago, drunken night.

He shifted position suddenly, only slightly, and I feared for a second that the wet slapping sound of my masturbation had awakened him. I held my hand still for a long, long time, terrified that he would roll over and see me that way. But he didn't move again, and I slowly resumed my stroking. The come was beginning to get sticky, but the view of Derf's lean, naked body just a couple of feet away kept me pumping away. Before long I shot a second load, this time even more forcefully than the wet dream. One spurt hit my cheek, and one hit my lips. One fell on my chest, and the last one ran down my clutching hand. Still clutching my softening cock, I licked my lips, tasting my own semen, and within a few seconds I had fallen asleep again.

Derf part 3

"Doug! Doug!"

I woke up to Derf calling my name and shaking my shoulder. I lay naked on top of my covers, sticky with my own come, my hand clutching my half-hard cock.

Derf leaned over me, naked and shivering. "Doug, the heat's gone out."

"Shit," I mumbled. We were alone in the house over Thanksgiving weekend; our landlord had gone away for the weekend, and he had the only thermostat in the building. The efficiency apartment Derf and I shared had gone from sweltering hot just that afternoon, to freezing cold now. I looked over at the clock. 2:00 a.m. I forgot all about how I had fallen asleep, jerking off at the sight of Derf's naked body and the memory of a drunken night we had spent together when we were freshmen.

"Doug, it's freezing in here, and my blanket's at the laundry."

"What the fuck is your blanket doing at the laundry?" But then I remembered; the heat in the house had been left high, and the apartment had been sweltering on Wednesday afternoon when the landlord left. Derf had figured he'd get his blanket dry-cleaned while he could count on not needing it. So there was only a sheet on his bed. "Well, you can't have mine," I said, shifting position to get under the covers. It was unnerving, the way he was standing naked over me, his cock only a foot or two away from my face.

"Come on, man, let me share it, at least."

"No way, dude."

His voice went all soft and strange: "We've shared a blanket before, remember?"

I had been trying hard not to remember for three years. I had even convinced myself that Derf had not been awake that night, and didn't remember it himself. But with his words my cock sprung to rock-hard, and I rolled on my side away from him to hide it. "We were drunk," I said, pretending not to know what he meant.

"Yeah..." he said, almost wistfully. "But come on, man, have a heart. It's freezing in here."

I turned my head to look at him. "All right then. But first thing tomorrow you go get your fucking blanket from the cleaners."

"Thanks, dude, you got yourself a deal." I scooted over in my narrow twin bed and he lifted the covers to climb in. We lay there, back to back in the dark, for a very long time. I could tell by his breathing that he was not falling asleep, and I'm sure he could tell the same thing about me. My cock had made up its mind to stay hard forever, it seemed. I dared not even try to get out of bed to put something on to cover it.

At last, exhausted, and warmed by his bare back against mine, I fell asleep, if only fitfully.

When I woke up, Derf was out of bed and in the shower. I could see him through the translucent shower curtain. The air in the apartment was still freezing, though sunlight streamed through the one tiny window. My cock was still hard, and my body was crusty with cum from jerking off last night, before Derf had gotten in bed with me.

This would not do. I could not spend the rest of the semester with a woody that wouldn't go away. I started jacking off under the covers, remembering the feel of Derf's back against mine.

Just then Derf turned off the shower and shook himself off like a dog. I sat up quickly, tenting the blankets with my knees to hide my erection. Then he stepped out and began to towel himself all over. His own cock looked red and somewhat swollen, as if he had just jacked off himself. I realized with a shock of surprise that I was disappointed at not having seen him do it.

He stepped out of the bathroom and into the two-foot space between our beds. His skin was ruddy and covered with goosebumps from the cold. "Okay, dude, out of bed. You gotta take me."

"Take you?" I didn't believe he could possibly mean what I thought he meant.

"To the laundry," he said. "I gotta get my blanket." He danced around, shivering, trying to keep warm, while he rooted through his closet for something to wear. "Shit, no clean underwear," he said. He pulled a jockstrap out of the laundry basket and pulled it on. Then he turned and looked at me. "Come on, dude, I can't wait all day. It's colder than a witch's titty in here."

I just stared at him. I couldn't get out of bed because I still had a hardon, and seeing him standing there in nothing but a jock was doing nothing to make it go away.

"Okay, have it your way." He grabbed my arm and pulled. I pulled back, and we started laughing, and playing tug-of-war. The covers came off me during the scuffle, and he looked at my crotch and burst out laughing. "Well, no wonder you didn't want to get out of bed." My face must have turned sixteen shades of red. "But hey, dude, it's cool, I've seen stiffies before," he said, laughing even harder. "Hell, last night yours was like raping my leg half the night." He winked at me. I couldn't tell whether he was kidding.

"Now come on," he said, yanking me to my feet. "Time to make the donuts."

I stumbled past him, too embarrassed to say anything. Our bodies brushed against each other in the narrow passage between the beds, and he goosed me as I went by. "Cut that out, you homo," I said.

"Hey, I'm not the one with a stiffy."

I got in the shower. I thought about jerking off, but I knew he could see me through the shower curtain, and I'd never hear the end of it then. So I just took the quickest shower I could. I was still hard when I got out and dried myself off.

Derf had put on a pair of football pants, and a flannel shirt with a sweatshirt under it. He was sitting on his bed, lacing up his sneakers, when I came out of the bathroom, my erection waving in front of me.

"Man, looks like you need to get laid baaaad," he said.

I was still too embarrassed to think of a reply. I just leaned across his bed beside him to reach into the closet. He didn't get up or move aside. My ass was only inches from his face.

"Nothing clean, buddy," he said. "I already checked for you."

"Great. So what am I supposed to wear to take you in?"

"Go like you are."

"Oh sure. In November."

"Nude in November. I think it's a new Calvin Klein perfume."

"You're a lot of help."

"Here," he said, handing me a pair of sweatpants. They were his.

"I'm not wearing your clothes, pervert."

"I'm the pervert?" He looked at my crotch. He grabbed my cock suddenly and pushed it down, saying, "DOWN, boy!" Immediately he released it, to spring back up into place. "Right."

I grabbed the sweatpants out of his hands. "What about underwear?"

He shook his head. "Nothing clean. You gotta do laundry more often, dude."

I shrugged and pulled his sweatpants on. "Shit, I can't wear these," I said, gesturing down. My erection stood out prominently.

"Looks like that's not the only thing you gotta do more often, either," he said. "Don't you ever whack off?"

"What do you think I am, some kind of homo?"

"Sure felt like it last night," he answered. "No matter where I laid, your dick kept poking my legs." I knew I was blushing furiously. He hesitated. "Course it's not the first time."

I looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

His face was suddenly serious. He looked me straight in the eye. "It means we've done that before."

..... to be continued .....