One Year Later...

"Morning babe." a familiar, masculine voice greets you, before you're pulled in for a wake-up kiss.

True to her word, your bestie Jenn had taken you out, Cyrano'd her way into getting you some positively mindblowing dick. If you'd had any doubts about your newly realised sexuality, they'd been blown away the first time you bent over felt the warm, satisfying fullness of a man inside you.

Not wanting to waste any time after that, you promptly came out of the closet, and had been embarking on one hell of a new lifestyle, being on track to have every remotely queer guy on campus' number in your phone. Life had been good, your sex-life even better.

And then two and a half months later, the coronavirus had hit.

Needless to say, a once in a lifetime pandemic event did tend to put something of a crimp in your social life, not to mention your ambition to go out and have as much quasi-anonymous sex as you could handle.

Still, it wasn't all bad, by then you'd moved into a much less shitty apartment, with two of your new friends.

There was Peter, the Biology major with a penchant for crossdressing.

And perhaps more, pertinently, there was Marcus.

He was Jenn's half-brother. A tall Black English major, Marcus was ripped and with a cock that made you think you'd died and gone to heaven every time he eased himself inside you.

"Hey." you respond, letting your hands glide all over his musculature.

You'd met through Jenn, of course. Had moved in together, just as friends at first, but the two of you had only been able to survive so much of quarantine together before... benefits were added to the relationship. After that, it had only been a matter of time before an emotional intimacy had grown to mirror the physical one. Now after close to ten months of his being one of the only two people you saw in the flesh on a regular basis, it was like you were practically married.

"Knew you weren't completely satisfied last night." Marcus grinned, one of his powerful, yet tender hands closing around your erect cock. "Despite Pete in those stockings."

Peter was a frequent compatriot in you and Marcus' nights of fun, but preferred to sleep in his own bed after.

"I was, you're just teasing me back to hardness." you say with a smile.

"Oh no." Marcus grins wolfishly. "Whatever are we going to do about that?"

You can feel your boyfriend's magnificent dick against your thigh. Evidently, he's every bit as hard as you. Raring to go.

"Oh, I can think of a few things." you whisper in his ear.

It was crazy how compatible you and Marcus were. Same hometown, same school, same hobbies and interests.

But what was really spooky was how each of you had come to terms with your true sexuality in such similar ways.

You'd both been so repressed and closeted that for the first twenty or so years of your lives, you hadn't been willing to so much as entertain a queer thought, being to all outside observers, even yourselves, completely heterosexual, until something changed, and you were both willing to risk being your true selves.

It was beyond weird that you'd found each other, almost like some invisible hand was manipulating events, pulling at strings so you ended up together. But you didn't believe in stuff like that. You were a rationalist, saw the world as it was, in plain terms. You knew there was no grand plan, no overarching scheme, just accidents, happy or otherwise.

You're jolted from your reminiscence by Marcus' lips against yours.