I wake up in the pitch black, and it takes me a second to figure out where I am and what the strange sounds are that woke me up. Right. I’m at Troy’s, and he’s the one making weird noises. I can hear his groans drifting through the room, and they’re not the happy ones indicating he’s about to come. He’s in pain.

He fell asleep on the couch yesterday, and after about an hour, I carried him to his bed. I didn’t want him to wake up with even more pain in his body after spending a night on that uncomfortable looking couch.

I can now affirm that couch is indeed hella uncomfortable, because after a few hours of restless sleep on this thing, my back is killing me. Sweet fuck, he really could use a new couch. I’ll have to introduce him to Ikea, maybe.

I feel around for a light switch, because I know there’s a small lamp on the side table. Why the hell is it so fucking dark in here? I can’t see a damn thing. Finally, my fingers touch the switch, and I turn the lamp on.

I’d better get him some more painkillers. I crawl off the couch, my stiff muscles loudly announcing their discomfort. The painkillers are in the bathroom, and I make my way to Troy’s bed with a glass of water and the package of meds.

Troy has his back toward me in the queen size bed, but I can see he’s in pain. He’s whimpering a little in a restless sleep, his body curled up into a ball. Poor guy. That was one angry woman to clock him in the face that hard.

I turn on the lamp next to him before I gently put my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Troy… Babe, wake up.”

His body freezes before he relaxes again. I guess he needed a sec to remember who I am or something. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.

“You’re in pain. I’ve got the next dose of your painkillers for you.”

He turns around with a big groan. “God, my head is killing me. Why the fuck did I take that job?”

I help him sit up, shooting him a look of sympathy. “Here,” I say when he’s somewhat sitting up straight—more like slumping against the headboard—and hand him the water and a pill.

“Are you drugging me so you can have your way with me?” he jokes before taking the pill and washing it down with the water.

I grin. “Sure thing, babe. ‘Cause you haven’t put out so far, and I really enjoy fucking a guy with a broken nose.”

He sags against the pillows with a faint smile, then gingerly touches his nose and cringes. “Do you think it will leave a mark? My nose, I mean. Will it stay crooked?”

I carefully sit down on the bed beside him and brush a lock of hair from his forehead. “I don’t know, but you’ll still be gorgeous.”

He sends me a watery smile. “You’re good with words. Much better than me. I never know what to say. I suck at this whole friendship thing.”

Even though he’s in pain, I don’t wanna lie to him. “Yeah, you kinda do. Not because of the words, because I don’t need them, but because you’re so defensive all the time. It’s okay to hang out, fuck when we feel like it, and be friends, you know? Those things are not mutually exclusive, and it’s not like I’m looking for anything serious either.”

He blinks slowly. “I guess,” he says.

“Wow. Your enthusiasm is overwhelming. Need I remind you that we’re best friends, considering I’ve had my dick in your mouth and your ass, as you so eloquently put it before? I expected a little more enthusiasm, dude.”

I figure the best thing to do is keep it light. I don’t know why he’s so freaked out about the whole friends and hanging out thing, but right now, I just wanna make sure he’s okay. He’s still looking mighty pale. Despite that, his lips curve into a smile.

“Best friends, huh?”

I nod. “Besties, man. I’m at your service.”

His smile widens. “Did you know that endorphins really help against pain?”

I know exactly where he’s going with this, but I wanna see him play this out. “Endorphins? Really? Aren’t those released when you do something pleasurable, like...hugging? Are you saying you’d like a hug from me?”

“For someone who calls himself my best friend, you’re pretty shitty at reading my needs, bro. I was not talking about hugging.”

“Oh. You weren’t trying to emotionally blackmail me into giving you a blowjob at four in the morning, were you? Because that’s not something best friends do to each other, right?”

He pouts, his bottom lip going all droopy and sad. He looks so cute when he’s put out that I take pity on him. The guy is in pain, after all. “Okay, okay, I’ll do it. Sheesh. The things I do to stay in your good graces.”

I shimmy myself onto the bed, dragging the covers down. He’s only wearing boxers, so that makes it easy. Then his hand touches my hair, grabbing it, and I look up.

“Rebel, you don’t have to…”

“I know.”

“I mean it. I don’t want you to feel—”

It’s sweet that he’s worried about me feeling pressured, but ain’t nobody got time for this. I simply drag down his boxers and drop down on his cock, which is still mostly soft. That’s probably because he didn’t have enough time to consider what was about to happen.

It’s not often that I get to start a blowjob on a soft cock. It may be a strange thing to think about when you’re sucking someone off, but usually, guys are rock hard and dripping when I work on them. It’s a wonderful sensation to feel Troy grow hard in my mouth.

I start with gently suckling on his crown, and my guess is he loves it, because both his hands thread into my hair to keep my head in place. As if I was planning on going anywhere. Still, I like how it feels, this little gesture of possessiveness.

There’s a difference between sucking someone off on camera and doing it in private. On camera, the goal is usually to draw it out, because we want the scene to last a little. Sure, most porn stars can hold out for a while—yes, there are tricks for this that we teach each other—but we also don’t go all out. We make it look sexy, first and foremost, but it’s not necessarily what would make someone come the fastest.

In private, it’s different. I’ve given blowjobs that were aimed at making someone come really fast because I wanted it over with and others where it was fun to play around a little.

Right now, it’s four in the morning, I’m still tired, my back hurts from that fucking couch, and Troy looks like he could keel over any second. You wanna bet how fast I can make him come?

He’s all hard now, moaning softly. I deep throat him with ease, putting my tongue to good use for a little extra pressure, and I swallow him down. His hips come off the mattress, and that discreet moan transitions into a low growl.

I keep up the pressure, only occasionally coming up for air. Troy is almost pulling on my hair now, moaning beautifully. And then he jerks and unloads in my throat, his body going slack right after. I lick him clean, and by the time I tuck him back into his boxers, he’s half asleep already.

“Mmmm...wasreallygood,” he murmurs.

“I do this for a living, remember?” I say half-joking, but he doesn’t even respond. I draw the sheets back over him and sit up. Do I really have to sleep on that lumpy couch? I debate it for three seconds before deciding Troy is passed out and won’t notice anyway, and then I curl up next to him. I’m asleep in under a minute, my mouth still full of his creamy taste.