Masturbating with a Mate

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Two friends masturbate together, resulting in frotting fun...

But they're "just friends"!


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Masturbating with a Mate


Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

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A mini story featuring frotting

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It was weird. Rida had to admit that, even as the weasel slumped back, nicely buzzed from a few beers and his cock out and hard in his hand. It was weird to sit there on his best friend's sofa with his dick throbbing against his fingers, pulsing and practically jumping every time it twitched. The hot length of flesh ached with need, yet the alcohol was the very thing that helped him, at least in some way, hold back a little longer, though the weasel was not sure for how much longer he could quell his squirming.

"This is alright, ain't it?"

Oh, the little rat. He was cute, Rida knew that, but he'd never quite gone that far as to say it. He didn't know which way Evan swung, the rat with his black and grey splotched fur, white lingering beneath the markings, though he should have, considering how long they had been friends. Still, there were some things that a guy had to work out regardless of where they were in life, but Rida was not about to press him for anything. That wasn't the kind of relationship they had.

No... Even as Evan twitched, not sure whether it was okay that he was there with his cock out and in hand, the rat's shaft drooling noticeably, he still sat there. It had just kind of happened, two horny guys together and, well, who was going to mind all that much? It was just them there, all in comfortable, familiar surroundings. Yet things were to happen that night that they could never take back. Not that they would end up wanting to...

"It's okay... Everything's...alright...unff..."

How had they gotten there? Rida had to wonder, but the weasel's tail could only swing lazily under him as he wriggled, the rat climbing on top of him. Nothing seemed to make sense there, but he was too relaxed and far, far too lazy to care about a damn bit of it. The rat tucked his chin down and away as if he was too shy to meet the weasel's eyes, though Rida didn't touch him.

All that touched was their cocks, rocking and grinding against one another as if it was something that they had been doing, together, for too many years already, as if they already knew the ins and outs of one another's bodies. Yet, in the heat of the moment, panting grunts and moans filling the air, it didn't matter. Lust was all that mattered, the rat's pre-cum dripping down onto his dick, Rida biting back a curse.

He didn't want to break it, didn't want to lose that throbbing ache that pushed his body closer and closer to his high, succulently pressing through every aching moment of it with the sluggishness of alcohol in his system. It almost gave him the impression hat he was not going to be able to cum that time, but he was okay, more than happy to keep grinding through, rolling his hips, letting it come, thrust by thrust. But he liked too having the chance to experience the smoothness of the rat's shaft against his as they frotted, aching with raw need, pulsating...

It was enough to make his head spin, all in the best of ways, losing his sense of self. Rida even forgot that it was his friend there, that it was Evan, but, really, what did it even matter anymore? Lust blossomed, attraction flaring through, and that was just the way it was supposed to be.

Maybe.

They would work it out in the morning.

"Unff..."

Rida leaned back, lips parted, focusing on sensation, how an errant thrust of Evan's slipped up alongside his, pressing up against his sheath for a heartbeat of a moment. The slip didn't bother him in the slightest, but it did make him tense up, bucking his hips as if that was going to be the moment that he lost control, but he wasn't quite there yet.

He was close, however, even as he reached for the rat's cock, not looking at him, for he already had the image of Evan with his cute, plump little body in his mind's eye, imbued there as if it could never be swept away. He longed for more, for something that he could not name, but he had to satisfy himself where he was right then and there and lean into the moment, panting and heaving, his abdominals tensing as he rocked his hips.

"Please... Yes... Oh... Rida... Yes... I need..."

But the weasel never got to know what it was that the rat needed as he gripped Evan's slick shat, slippery with pre-cum, not as orgasm took him. His vision whited out and he panted, head rolling back, hips pumping, cum spurting, feeling as if he was cumming harder than ever before. That may or may not have been true, but the trickling spurts of cum soaking his cock and the rat's was what they both needed. Evan whined, squeaking through his lust, though it was the pumping of Rida's hand around his cock that got him off too, the weasel taking care of his partner even when he was in the throes of lust himself.

The rat bowed into him, tipping forward, and the weasel found himself grabbing at him, steadying him, though his head hardly felt as if he was stable in the moment either. He needed to do something, anything, however, to hold them steady, as if it was Rida and Rida alone that was holding them there, able to keep them stable and spilling their cream.

Moans faded to pants, Evan's forehead brushing the weasel's shoulder, need coursing and pumping, though it had to come out, one way or the other.

Needless to say, there would be plenty for them to talk about the next day. But that was not for either of them to worry about, not one little bit.

In masturbation and the furthering of relationships, there were no wrong answers. Only new ways to go.