Birthday Wishes
by Londonboy
The phone was ringing. It sounded like a sonic boom in my hung over aching head. I was trying hard to stay asleep, so I could avoid getting up as long as I could. I knew as soon as I got up I was going to see how fucking horrible I felt. I had drunk too many margaritas last night. It was the third time the phone had rang and gone into voicemail in the last two minutes. Someone really wanted to talk to me. The fourth time it started ringing I blindly let my hand go to my bedside table in search of the cordless receiver. I found it by the third ring and groggily said hello. Even speaking made my head hurt more.
“What did you wish for last night?” I couldn’t place the voice at first.
“What?”
“What did you wish for last night?” It was Jeremy – my best friend since first grade. It was on that first day of school eighteen years ago we found out we shared the same birthday, only one year apart. His mother has waited a year before sending him to first grade because he was so small and his birthday was on September 19. I have been big for my age all of my life so my mom let me start school before I turned six. Catholic schools were a lot less strict on rules about age back then. And here we were, now at age twenty-five and twenty-six, still celebrating our birthdays together. We had gone to Lulu’s Mexican Restaurant last night with a group of friends.
“I need to know what you wished for when we blew out the candles, Ivan.” Jeremy sounded very strange, maybe it was his morning voice, and he sounded desperate. I was having trouble focusing on what he was asking.
“I . . . I . . . uh, don’t remember, Jer. Give me a sec.” My mind quickly reviewed highlights from the previous evening. We had some Cuervo shots as soon as we got to the restaurant, then we started drinking margaritas with the pre-dinner chips and salsa, continued drinking through the meal, and I think we had more shots after dinner when they were bringing out a cake that looked overburdened with candles. I also remembered Samantha, or Sam – as friends call her. My friend, Bob, had brought her to the party to meet me and we had hit it off immediately. She was some kind of biochemist or something, but with the body of a Playboy bunny. I realized, at that moment, that my morning hard-on was aching as much as my head. It crossed my mind that something besides Samantha was causing my cock to be tenting the sheet, but I didn’t have time to contemplate the thought. Jeremy was yelling into the phone.
“Ivan, man, I’ve got to know what you wished for. It’s really important!”
“Jeremy, I don’t remember.” I was getting a little ticked off. “I’m hung over as shit and you’re yelling in the phone. Give me a minute, will ya!”
“I’m coming over, Ivan.” And with that the phone went dead.
What was up with the J-man? He was acting like a lunatic. And now he was on his way to my place. I did not want to be bothered with him this morning. He was such a drama queen. That thought made me chuckle. Three years ago Jeremy had come out to me. It’s not like I didn’t know he was gay. I think I had known it since junior high school, but by that time he was my best friend. I just pushed it aside, like he did, and thought, “He’ll tell me when he’s ready.” And three years ago, on our birthday, he had confessed what I already knew. When I told him I had suspected it since junior high he got mad and said I should have told him so he could have avoided many years of agony. Like I said, he could be a drama queen. A few drinks into our conversation that night I had felt bold enough to tell him some of the signs that had made me suspect. I told him that I noticed him checking out guys in the shower after gym class, and I mentioned how I noticed he stole glances mostly of me. His face turned red and I immediately calmed him down, a little, by telling him it had always flattered me! He knew this was true. I always loved showing off my naturally muscled body in the locker room. There were a few guys that were brave enough to ask me if they could feel my flexed biceps and I always obliged. It was a turn on being bigger than other boys. Jer would stand to the side watching intently, but he would never come get a feel. Later on I wondered if it was because he knew his little prick would have erupted in its first joyous explosion. I’m pretty sure my body made Jeremy go through puberty pretty quickly.
In high school he’d come over to my house and we’d go swimming. The pool made him a little braver. He’d swim up behind me and throw his arms around my chest, locking his arms, and try to dunk me in the water. I’d just stand my ground while he struggled helplessly to try and move my big body. I knew he was really just copping a feel of my big chest and arms, but I didn’t care. Sometimes I’d grab his hands and hold him there as I walked around the pool – easily dragging his small frame with me. I knew this turned him on and that’s why I did it.
We even roomed together at college and sometimes when I’d come home all horny from a date with a girl who “wanted to wait,” I’d force Jer to wrestle with me just so I could get some of my frustration out. I also knew it made Jeremy’s pole shoot straight up. He loved it when I’d take off my shirt and pants to wrestle in my underwear. He always left his shirt and shorts on. I also know he loved it when we would get all sweaty – me from tossing his body around like light weights and him form the thrill of touching my muscles. I got in the habit of taunting Jeremy by easily tossing him on his bed, giving him bear hugs that forced the air out of his lungs, and even lifting him over my head a few times. Our wrestling matches usually ended because he would get such a raging hard-on that he’d have to excuse himself and go into the bathroom to jerk off. This didn’t freak me out at all. Like I said, I kind of liked the power I had over his body. Why shouldn’t I give my best friend a few thrills? Jeremy was so closeted that he only went to class, studied, and looked at porn on the computer. I knew I was his only close friend and I liked looking out for him.
I suggested that we stay roommates even after college, but Jeremy went off to graduate school, while I began doing finances for a construction company I had worked with during summers in college. I had a business degree, was happy with my job, and settled down to enjoy my twenties. Jeremy was all into Greek mythology or something and went to get a masters degree in the Hellenistic period or the like. He now taught at our old college across town. I eventually knew it was best for us to not room together because I realized during our senior year that Jeremy was deeply in love with me. I also think that this was the time he started exploring the gay life. There would be long periods of not hearing from Jeremy and then suddenly he’d show up at my door drunk and depressed. I figured out this was usually because some guy had broken his heart. Here I was still looking out for him. After he came out to me, and I showed him I wasn’t going to punch him or shun our friendship, everything between us fell back into what was a perfect fit. He even agreed to wrestle me every now and then. It was still pretty stupid since I was 6’ 2” and he was 5’ 6”. I also outweighed him by about seventy-five pounds. It wasn’t even slightly a contest. I was really happy, though, because the wrestling would still end with him having a painful hard-on and excusing himself to the bathroom to go “spank the monkey.”
My thoughts returned to Samantha because my cock had started to ache more than my head. I tried in vain to conjure up a picture of Sam’s face, breasts, or firm butt, but I couldn’t. I reached down and slid my hand up and down my hard cock twice. Suddenly, without any warning, it erupted into a violent cum explosion that made me raise my back and ass off the mattress. My abs glistened with sweat and knotted up as they forced globs of what Jeremy called the “white juice of the Gods” to shoot into the air and land all over the bed and me. It was the wildest orgasm I had felt in a long time. But the wildest part of my momentous ejaculation was that I realized that thoughts of Samantha had not caused it. Something else had made me cum like it was the first time. Because of sheer exhaustion and the pounding in my head, I could not figure out what it was.
I knew I needed to get cleaned up. Jeremy would be here in a few minutes. I waited for my heart to stop beating like a thundering racehorse before I stood up.