My good college friend Mike has known he's been gay since he was younger. I, on the other hand, have only recently confronted within myself that I'm bi. When Mike and I catch up one night, I tell him I'm interested in exploring sex with a man and he ends up offering me some help.

I hadn't seen Mike in over a year since he was traveling the world.

Mike had been a close friend of mine in college. Tall, well-built, brown hair and light brown eyes. He was good looking and smart too. After leaving his job of six years, he decided he needed a sabbatical, so he went on a world tour hiking, skiing and climbing mountains.

Finally he was back in Boston, and we decided to catch up at his apartment and drink a few beers. He told me about Switzerland being his favorite part of the trip, and showed me some pictures of the alps on his one. I caught him up with everything at my job as a Financial Analyst and the boss I hated.

As the conversation turned to dating and relationships, I found myself confessing more than I had planned under the influence of alcohol. "I'm not seeing anyone right now," I admitted, watching his reaction closely. "But... I've been thinking a lot about exploring with a man."

His initial reaction was a chuckle, but as he saw the seriousness in my expression, his laughter faded. "Seriously?" he inquired, his tone shifting to one of genuine curiosity. "Have you ever... you know, done anything with a guy before?"

I shook my head, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief at finally sharing this part of myself. "No, never. But I think I might be bi—I mean, I definitely am bi, actually."

The room fell silent for a moment, my confession settling between us. Mike looked thoughtful, then nodded slowly. "Well, if you ever want to try something out, just to see how it feels, I'm here, man. No judgment. You know I've been out since I was 14."

His offer was unexpected, yet it resonated deeply within me. The idea of experimenting with him, someone I trusted and cared about, felt both thrilling and safe. "Really? You'd do that for me?" I asked, my voice tinged with disbelief and hope.

"Yeah, totally," he affirmed, a reassuring smile spreading across his face. "We're friends, right? And it's just about understanding yourself better. No big deal."

Encouraged by his openness, I leaned closer, our eyes locking in a moment of unspoken agreement. "Maybe we could... start small? Just to get a feel for it?"

He nodded, his gaze steady. "Whatever you're comfortable with. We can take it slow."

As I sat in my friend's dimly lit living room, the soft glow of the TV casting flickering shadows on our faces, I couldn't shake off the nervousness that had settled deep in my gut.

"So, you're really serious about this?" he asked, his voice low and cautious, breaking the silence that had stretched out uncomfortably.

I nodded, feeling a mix of courage and vulnerability. "Yeah, I am. I think it's time I explore this part of myself."

He shifted slightly, turning to face me more directly. "You know, if you want to... you could try with me. Just to see what it's like."

His offer caught me off guard, but there was no denying the thrill that shot through me at the thought. "What do you mean?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I mean, you can touch it," he said, nodding towards his crotch. "Just to see how it feels."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. The idea was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, man. It's cool. We're just experimenting, right?" he replied, his tone encouraging.

Nodding, I leaned forward slightly, my hand trembling as I reached out towards his jeans. My fingers brushed against the fabric, feeling the outline of his erection beneath. He let out a soft groan, closing his eyes for a moment, and that sound sent a shiver down my spine.

Encouraged, I moved my hand more confidently, unzipping his jeans and carefully reaching inside. His cock was warm and hard in my hand, the texture unfamiliar yet strangely enticing. I wrapped my fingers around him, slowly stroking up and down his length, feeling him twitch under my touch.

"Fuck, that feels good," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

Emboldened by his reaction, I continued, exploring the feel of him, the weight and heat of his cock in my hand. Each stroke was deliberate, each movement calculated to elicit more of those soft moans from him. The atmosphere in the room had changed, the air thick with tension and desire.

As I worked him, my own cock grew hard in my pants, a testament to my arousal. I shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust without losing focus on the task at hand. Mike noticed, opening his eyes to look at me.

"You're into this, huh?" he observed, a hint of surprise in his voice.

I nodded, unable to form words, my mouth dry with anticipation.

"Why don't you take care of yourself too?" he suggested, nodding towards my crotch. "No point in being uncomfortable."

I hesitated for a moment, then unbuttoned my pants, freeing my own throbbing erection. Gripping it tightly, I matched the rhythm of my strokes on his cock, the dual sensations merging into a potent mix of pleasure and discovery.

We continued like this for what felt like an eternity, the sounds of our breathing and the occasional grunt filling the room. The news playing on the TV seemed distant, irrelevant, as we focused solely on each other.

As the intensity built, my strokes grew faster, more urgent. Mike watched me, his gaze intense, his body taut with anticipation. I could feel the climax approaching, the pressure mounting within me, threatening to burst forth.

"I'm close," he warned, his voice strained.

I nodded, speeding up my movements, desperate to bring him to the edge. With a final, powerful stroke, he came, his cum shooting onto his stomach, the sight of it both shocking and incredibly erotic...