Bottle In The Fridge

My best friend, Alex and I had recently moved into a flat together. It was our first year at university. I had always been in the boarding house at school, basically since day one, a little seven year old off to school, back-pack securely on my shoulders, a kiss from mom and dad and no looking back. Oh, I wasn't dumped there by any means- Quite the contrary. I was only a weekly boarder. It was just that there were no good schools in our town. The closest `good' school was about an hour and a half's drive down the coast, into the city of Cape Town.

Alex on the other hand had always been a `day boy.' His parents lived about ten kilometres from the school we attended, in a lovely tree lined suburb. (City folk. How fantastically boring.)

We had always known each other as acquaintances at school. It was only in grade nine that we became friends, and by the mid year break of grade ten we were inseparable. The only down side to our friendship was that I was hopelessly in love with him, and him, as a bonafide straight-boy jock had absolutely no clue.

Back then I didn't know I was gay- I didn't have a limp wrist nor a lithp, nor any other stereotypical gay attributes- I just like jacking off over images of guys.

I only told Alex that I was gay in 12th grade. He was very surprised and had never suspected it, and even thought I was trying to pull yet another practical joke on him- And me laughing at his facial expressions of gay sex didn't help convince him either. But in the end he was cool with it. It was even his idea that we share a flat together during university terms.

One night during the first few weeks of term, at either his of his girlfriends birthday party the topic of wanking was brought up during the course of conversation. Alex and I had never discussed masturbation before. It was not what our friendship was about. Yes, I fantasized nightly about having sex with him, but through some superhuman feat of self discipline I managed to keep quiet about it. I just couldn't bring myself to slaughter those sacred cows.

And here we were, all very drunk on red wine and odd drink mixtures that we had all dared ourselves to drink, talking about masturbation. Everyone else was there, too, joining in the conversation, even some of the guys' girlfriends. But as is the case with these conversations, they go from rude to crass in several seconds, and soon we were talking about storing cum in the deep freeze as long life milk. "The milk of life, and it would last a lonnnnnnng time if frozen. what happens if we lose our dicks tomorrow, how will we have kids?" And so it went on.

Several weeks went by, varsity was in full swing, and I was already working at my desk in the afternoons. Alex was still up in the computer rooms at varsity. I was bored and horny again. My last piece of ass had been quite a few weeks ago. I got up and walked around the flat. I walked past Alex's room on the way back to mine. I took a cursory glance at the bed, thinking how nice it would be if I could spend some time in that when a naughty thought crossed my mind. I wondered if there were some old clothes of his under the bed. It would be amusing to cum on a t-shirt and then have him wear it again. After all, his idea of washing clothes was leaving them on the floor for a few days. I looked under his bed but didn't see any clothes. only a 500ml coke bottle. I took it out and examined it in the light of his bedroom window. It had a slightly clear/yellow liquid at the bottom. But barely a centimetre in total. And then I remembered the drunken party conversation. "You gota be kidding!" I said to myself, simultaneously unscrewing the cap. The smell was unmistakable. MAN-JIZ!!!

The taste was unmistakable, too.

Oh, my fuck! In my horniness I DRANK Alex's cum! That wouldn't have been so bad if it had been fresh, but now I wanted to be sick. and to make matters worse the bottle was empty. or almost so. He would notice, and I didn't particularly like the idea of him knowing I drank (or spilled, or used as lube or whatever he might think I had done with.his cum!) Shit, this stuff doesn't just disappear. And now I was laughing. I was going to leave it empty. He was the one jacking off into a fucking Coke bottle and leaving it under his bed! It's not like he's going to come up to me and ask what happened to it. If he did I would have to make something up about being part of the sperm liberation movement. But I suppose eating your best friends three day old cum doesn't really count as liberation now does it?

Giggle, giggle.

So I decided to fish out an old Coke bottle of my own and start filling it. I had been working at my desk in my boxers. I stripped down in Alex's room, sat on his bed, used some saliva as lube and started beating away at my 15cm, rock hard, cut cock. I scrunched my balls with my left hand, working them hard, playing my dick head with my thumb. "Aw," I moaned, maybe a bit too much like a porn star, "This won't take long." And it didn't. Before I knew it I had to get the Coke bottle lined up with my piss slit, and with one final image of a random guy in my mind I blew my load. Except lining up in the heat of the orgasm wasn't really such a great idea. I picked up the wrong bottle. Now it was obvious that there was fresh cum in it. Something milky white in something milky yellow. Oh, well, it kinda turned me on knowing Alex would realise I found his bottle. and was helping him fill it.

Nothing was said the next few days. Every opportunity I got (basically when Alex wasn't there and I was) I would go into his room and empty my load into his bottle. And he hadn't stopped unloading into it either. It was funny- We both knew what the other was doing, and were both doing it ourselves, except we never spoke about it. We acted like nothing was going on.

About two weeks passed since this had started, and seeing as we had both been jizzing once a day (at least) into the Coke bottle, there must have been about half a cup in there.

Sitting at my desk again I hear Alex arrive back from varsity. I hear him say hi as he runs down the passage lobbing an empty Coke bottle at me, and then is gone. `Damit,' I think, `He's in one of his mischievous moods.' And then I see the bottle that hit me on the back of my head. "What's this for?" I shout down the corridor, pretending I don't already know. "Competition," I hear from his room, "To see who the real man is, the little, blonde queer-boy or me, the muscular ladies man all you fags perv over."

"Yeah, the wanking ladies man. Someone's not getting any." I teased back. "Oh, and I want half of what's already in your bottle."

"Half?! Now look who `not getting any'."

I wondered into his bedroom to see him fishing under the bed for the bottle. "Shit, there's a lot in here. and all in only thirteen days." He says.

"You've been counting?"

"Yeah well, wouldn't you agree this is rather bizarre." I handed him my empty bottle and he started pouring half our jiz into mine. "By the way. the first time you put your spunk in this, what happened to the stuff that was already in here?" I nearly choked with embarrassment, but luckily he didn't see my face. He was working hard not to get any goo on his hands.

"Um. you probably don't want to know."

Finishing the pour he looked up grinning. "Okay then, lets make a deal. The first one to fill this gets to watch the other down it. Deal?" I wasn't sure I liked this idea at all. If I lost I don't think I would mind downing Alex's jizz, but I couldn't imagine him downing mine. No, not for one second did I think he would do that. I would just have to lose.

"Okay, deal. But lets put this in the deep freeze. It's beginning to get manky."

It didn't take as long to fill the bottles as I had thought it would. Either we were perpetually horny or had lots of jizz. Although I think the real reason was our natural competitiveness. Throughout school we were constantly trying to outdo each other. And now was no exception.

Just before bed we would both creep into the kitchen, trying not to be spotted by the other, fetch our bottle and disappear to our own beds. By the time I had breakfast both bottles were back in their places in the ice tray.

When we were both about two or three dick loads away from the very brim of the bottles Alex began to brag that he's going to be the winner and I'm gona have to drink half a litre of his jizz, bla bla bla.

"If you think you're so near the end, let me watch you fill it up." Ok, so I was pushing my luck. Never did I expect him to actually agree.

Alex had never been cock-shy. He was always walking from the shower to his room naked, and at school he didn't have any qualms either. He just didn't get kicks from it (like me.)

Standing in the kitchen, almost in one motion, he got his bottle and mine and stripped from the waist down. His cock was at half mast. I had never seen his dick other than in the showers at school, and then it was always limp. But now it was getting very hard, very quickly. And then it struck me. The boy I had always fantasized over the most, wished was gay the most and wanted to fuck the most, was standing next to me, half naked, a bottle of his cum in the one hand, a bottle of mine in the other, wearing his trade-mark sly grin. He knew me well enough to know what was going through my mind. With that he sat down, bare assed, on the cool kitchen floor. I dropped my board shorts over my bare feet and kicked them out the way. My erection caused the base of my t-shirt to bulge out sumwhat. I joined Alex on the floor, letting our legs touch. I glanced over at his dick. He was working it slowly, pulling his foreskin back and forth over his head using his thumb and forefinger.

"I guess you have seen this a thousand times before." He said smiling at me without taking his eyes off his cock. The truth was, I was only out the closet to him, and although I had more than a few fuck buddies I wouldn't exactly call myself a male slut. Besides, this was Alex. the guy I knew I couldn't get into my bed.

A slight moan emanated from his mouth. We carried on for a few minutes, me rubbing his thigh with my right hand, not taking my eyes off him playing with his nipples and pounding his cock with his free hand. I was going to cum soon if I carried on working myself like I was. I didn't have to tell him though. We could feel each others sexual energy, hear the constant moans and whimpers of pleasure that we were giving ourselves.

Alex came first. His whole body tensed, his six-pack rippled, his face flushed red and with a loud moan, almost a growl he shot his load into his bottle. I got onto my knees in front him, looking at the figure sitting slumped against the lower kitchen cupboards with his eyes half closed. I worked both my hands on my shaft, playing with my scrotum and pubic hair all the while watching Alex watch me. I leant over his bottle and blew my load on top of his. The bottle really was full now. Some of my cum over flowed the screw top rim, oozing down the side in yellow/white streaks. The slight chlorine smell of cum filled the room. When Alex saw what I had done a puzzled look crossed his face. "You actually want to drink that don't you?"

"No," I said nonchalantly, "You just spunked in the wrong bottle." It took a moment for this to sink in. He turned his head looking for the other bottle. Sure enough, his was on the floor on his right. The label was removed from his, mine still on. He really had helped fill the wrong bottle. He gave long suffering sigh and said, "No way man."

"A deals a deal."

written by jasonost

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