We met one summer at a barbecue. He was twenty-seven and I was twenty-four. Summer gave way to winter, and by then we'd become very close friends who flirted with each other occasionally. Together, we attended a New Year's Eve party, where he told me that I look sexy when I bite my lower lip and that it turned him on. Following that party, and after several nights of him sending me sexually explicit text messages, I finally decided to play along and open up.

Texting him was fun — we sent each other texts of emoti-penises back and forth while sitting on the same pew at church. It never really occurred to me that my friend and I were in fact "sexting," but it finally dawned on me the night my friend sent me a picture of himself naked from the waist down. He soon talked me into sending him a picture of myself; at that point, I wasn't totally opposed.

Then, one night in mid-January, I found myself heading over to his house around two a.m., where he awkwardly greeted me at the door and welcomed me into his house. He led me to his room and I nervously followed him, unsure of what was actually going to happen.

Standing in his room, I looked at his posters and commented on his DVD collection, while we both awkwardly undid our belts. We soon lay down side by side on his bed. He pulled out his laptop and searched for porn on the internet. In silence, we began slowly undressing, fumbling to push and pull our clothes off while simultaneously trying to avoid eye contact.

Lying naked next to each other we began to masturbate, stealing glances at each other's penises, our elbows bumping into each other gawkily. 

After several minutes I reached my hand over to his crotch, pushing his hand away. I still remember the rush of excitement I felt when I first grabbed hold of his erect penis; it was thrilling and different, but somehow felt incomplete. Gripping both of our penises, I proceeded to masturbate us both to the point of ejaculation. We let out mutual groans of pleasure, and both moaned out "wow" and "nice" when we came.

Toweling off and pulling our clothes back on, we exchanged silent looks. "I have to get home," I told him.

"I have work in the morning," he replied.

"Well then, later. Let's catch a movie sometime."

He walked me to the door, gave me a bro-hug goodbye and told me to drive safe. We caught a movie the next day and remain close friends to this day, but as an unspoken agreement, we don't talk about that January night. I do wonder what he did with those pictures.

— Nick

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