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Richie was standing in the kitchen, completely fed up. Eddie was out presumably drinking himself half to death and Richie was left, as always to do everything. Scraping the dried in leftovers off their last intact plates with a knife, trying to throw together an edible dinner from nothing but a half-empty packet of crackers, a carrot that had grown in their cupboard out of the composted remains of its ancestors and a bottle of milk that had been stood in the fridge since they first moved in over 10 years ago.
Finally, he decided on burning the carrot in a pan and serving it up with the stale crumbled crackers and the curdled milk, which he hoped had turned into some kind of yoghurt. Eventually the crispy black heap that used to be a carrot got cold and the suspicion dairy substance warmed up and even then, Eddie wasn’t home. Sneering, he plopped himself down on the chair in the kitchen and tried to eat the abomination he had produced.
One taste of the not-yoghurt was enough for him to spit it right back out and decide it wasn’t worth the food poisoning. The carrot and crackers, while still unpleasant, were at least edible. When he was done eating, which considered the small amount he’d had to cook with wasn’t very much later, he was still alone. He sighed, rolling his eyes and speaking in a sarcastic mocking tone to himself. “Wow, Richie, thank you so much for cooking this amazing dinner for us. It’s really impressive considering you had nothing to work with because I gambled away all our grocery money for the month.”
Just as he was about to break out into a full monologue, the door swung open with a bang and Eddie stumbled into the flat, drunk as a skunk and whiffing of both of those as well. Richie stood up, hands on hips and stared at Eddie accusingly. When the man didn’t utter a word and instead just slammed the door shut again with just as much bang, Richie narrowed his eyes even more and began the verbal assault. “Where have you been? You said you would be back hours ago. I even made us dinner. And what do I get for my trouble? You didn’t even bother to show up.” He had intended it to sound angry, but in reality, it came off more as whiny. And that was really how he felt. Right now, he wasn’t mainly angry. He was sad, disappointed and fed up.
Eddie stumbled further into the flat and responded in a drunken casual tone. “Oh, what’s the matter, Richie? I was just at the Lamb and Flag for a bit longer than I said. You don’t have to whine about it like that every time. Also:” He clumsily turned towards Richie, almost jabbing his finger in the man’s eye as he pointed accusingly. “Your food’s crap anyway.”
That comment made Richie fully lose it. No more sad, this was angry territory now. He crossed his arms angrily before pulling them apart again, needing his hands for some heavy gesturing as he went on. “THAT’S IT EDWARD HITLER! I ALWAYS DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE AND YOU DO NOTHING!” He went on in a condescending aggressive tone. “Now, listen here: This is my aunt’s flat. She gives me money every month and who spends it all? Not me, that’s who. You always take it and spend it on booze! And then who has to do all the housework, hm? It’s Richard Richard, at your service. Cooking, cleaning, everything! You never give me anything back, anything at all!”
Eddie rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed at the fact he had to have a conversation with Richie while all he wanted to do was pass out in a drunken coma in front of the TV. “Richie, we are friends, and I am drunk and wanna watch TV. So, will you shut your hole and bugger off, before I have to break the table with your face?”
“Oh, we’re friends, are we, Eddie? Well, you’re not being much of a friend to me. You’re like… like my bloody drunk husband who I always have to clean up after! Except it’s even worse than that, isn’t it? At least if you were my husband, I’d get a good bit of porking done every now and again, but I don’t even get that. I do all the work, and I don’t even get someone to touch my knob!”
Eddie rolled his eyes at him and shot back sarcastically. “Oh, I see, that’s your deal then. Wanna guilt me into having it off with you, huh? Well, I have to disappoint you there, darling. You can’t guilt me into anything. I don’t have a conscience.”
Richie sneered at Eddie while nervously brushing an errand strand of sweaty hair behind his ear. “No, Eddie, I don’t want to guilt you into anything. But I will not keep living like this. You either do some of the housework or you admit you treat me as if I’m your wife and commit to it.”
It took Eddie a concerningly short time to decide which option he’d prefer. “Alrighty then, me old mate. You wanna play it like this, we play it like this.” He grabbed Richie’s hair from the back and shoved him towards the couch. As he let go again, Richie stumbled forwards and looked back, eyes popping in surprise. His voice was soft, almost dreamy. “Eddie, do you really mean…?”
Eddie only spat after him, annoyed. “Get on the couch and strip. If you want a shag.” Richie pulled his lips back in his trademark horny smile. “Bloody hell, this is getting saucy fast.” His comment was quickly cut off, as he jumped out of the way of Eddie’s swinging fist and hopped obediently over to the sofa, where he flopped himself down.
He pursed his lips and continually glanced over at Eddie, while nervously fiddling with his belt. He smiled sheepishly at Eddie, still fully dressed. “Do want me to take everything off… what if I get cold or…” Eddie groaned in annoyance. “You can keep your stupid shirt on. You may have a bit of a chubby chest, but it’s not exactly up to my jugs-standard. But if you wanna get laid, Rich, you gotta pull down your pants!”
Nervously fidgeting on the couch, Richie finally worked up enough courage to pull his trousers down. In all honesty, he hadn’t expected Eddie to take him up on it, but now that his friend had agreed, Richie did not wanna miss this opportunity of finally losing his virginity. Sure, he hadn’t exactly imagined his first time to be with a middle-aged drunk bald bastard, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.
With his trousers kicked off he bent down to pull off his socks, before quickly sitting back up, coughing and trying to catch his breath. Maybe he should wash them more often. A thought that reminded him of the fact he also had to take his underpants off now. He looked over nervously at Eddie again, his hands stroking through his tangled sweaty strands.
His drunken friend was working on the exceptionally difficult task of removing his own trousers without sitting down or falling over while massively sloshed. He did make slow but steady progress on it though, by grabbing onto the kitchen counter to keep his balance. That meant, Richie only had a limited and ever dwindling amount of time left to finally take down his y-fronts.
He tried to control his breathing and bit around at his lip, as he finally hooked his fingers under the elastic. This was it. No turning back after that. If he was gonna let Eddie see him fully in the nude, there was nothing further to lose by having sex with him as well. He slowly scooted the fabric down his ass, keeping his bottom glued to the couch throughout and just inching back and forth to get them further down. Eventually they were down far enough, and he let them fall to the ground, slipping his feet out of them.
Looking to the side, he realized his progress slowed by indecision had taken exactly the same time as Eddie’s drunken balance act and so he found himself staring at his friend’s fully exposed lower body, a sizeable sausage dangling between his legs. As Eddie stumbled closer, Richie stared back in unsure confusion. “E-Eddie, where is your penis?”
Eddie, confused as well by this weird question, stared down at himself and pointed at it emphatically. “It’s right here, Rich! Are you blind?!” Richie shook his head. “N-no but… isn’t that… That’s what you pee out of, Eddie.”
Eddie was shouting a little now, shocked at the naivety of his friend. Hadn’t he read sex manuals? And besides that, apparently masturbated multiple times a day? “Yes, Richie! That’s what a penis does! You pee out of it and you have sex with it! What are you talking about?!”
Richie stared back at him, eyes and mouth wide open, before looking down at himself, holding his slightly smaller than average penis in his own hand and then turning back to Eddie. “You’re telling me THIS is my penis?! I thought it was that thing.” He pointed at a weird boily outgrowth just above it. Eddie shook his head in utter disbelief. “Richie, I may not be a doctor, but that’s definitely not your penis and definitely looks like something you should go to a professional about some time.”
Richie laughed hysterically after this comment. “Eddie, do you know what that means?” Before Eddie could even reply with the expected ’What?’, Richie cut him off and just went on. “That means I don’t have a tiny microscopic penis! I have a perfectly normal, just a little bit small penis!” His voice was starting to sound dreamy again. “Oh, Eddie, this is just wonderful. Let’s do it right here right now to celebrate!” Apparently, he had already forgotten that was their original plan anyway.
Not really feeling like dwelling on this strange interaction and the many concerning questions that inevitably came up from it, on account of being drunk and generally not caring much anyway, Eddie decided it was time to finally get it on. “Righty-o, mate. Let’s heat up the old tip.”
Without further warning, Richie found himself getting pushed over by the drunken walrus that was his flat mate, making him flop on his belly. Immediately, he felt the crushing weight on his back pushing him down. He was grateful, that after squeezing out a choked: “I can’t breathe.”, Eddie obliged and steadied his weight on the back of the couch instead. He felt a brief grip on his buttocks before hearing somewhat disgusted noises coming from behind him.
Eddie, glad he had anticipated the issue, quickly pulled on the pink washing up gloves he had liberated from the sink as well as a thick non-ripped condom. Better not take any chances here. “Richie, I’m gonna try to go in, but if your runny bottom decides to be runny on me, it’s over, you hear me?”
Richie nodded quickly, trying to concentrate his mental energy on controlling something he knew he really couldn’t control. If he did, he wouldn’t have to buy so many new pairs of underpants every month. Still, his stomach had been calm all day, which was a good sign. Maybe, he thought, that was something he should also mention should he go to the Doctor at some point about what he had just found out was not in fact his penis but an apparently concerning unrelated growth.
Another thought struck him in that department as well. If that big thing was his penis, then how bloody good would it feel to touch that while masturbating? He was, however, pulled from his thoughts by the much more immediately situation: A knob pushing at his bum hole, ready to deflower him.
Eddie managed to push himself in quite easily. Richie let out a horny moan immediately at this. Eddie smiled to himself. Well, at least it wouldn’t take that long. With a bit of luck, he would still be able to catch the end of Emmerdale Farm. Determined to reach this goal, he started pounding into Richie, as quickly and rhythmically as he was able considering he never exercised and was completely drunk.
Richie in turn rutted against the couch under him, mouth wide open as he groaned and moaned and made other strange lustful noises. God, he could feel his knob properly going hard, not like the pathetic display he usually found himself giving. At the same time, whatever organs Eddie was stirring around inside him, didn’t feel half bad either.
Something Eddie was pushing against gave him quite the jolts of pleasure and combining that with the fact his actual tip was getting rubbed red-hot under him for maybe the first time ever, meant it wasn’t long before he found his whole body spasming as he came, the sticky spunk glueing his stomach to the couch cushion. He was shocked by the force of it. He had never experienced anything like it.
Eddie behind him wasn’t quite done and Richie, not horny for the first time since he could remember, at least after entering puberty, realized there was such a thing as too much stimulation. With an actual orgasm behind him, the rutting was starting to overwhelm him. Luckily, Eddie too didn’t last very long and came with a scream shortly after.
As Eddie pulled out of him with a slick slurping noise and went right to turning on the TV not ten seconds later, Richie reflected on what had just happened to him. His first time having sex had been with his flat mate. On top of that, he had mistakenly rubbed at a weird outgrowth for years instead of actually masturbating, making this also his first actual orgasm. Also, it had been about five minutes now since he last touched himself and he still didn’t feel horny. Did that mean having an orgasm made you not horny for a while? If he had known that earlier, he might have saved himself a lot of time. Well, he would try to implement it in the future.
For now, he was lying bottom-up on the couch, Eddie sitting on his legs, which he realized were slightly losing their feeling, and watching Emmerdale Farm with him. Wasn’t it just nice? Well, at least it was until he had to get up and surgically remove the couch cushion from his stomach. But that was a problem for later.