"Kenny!" I whine from my spot on the couch. It's Friday night and Kenny, Stan, and I are having a sleepover at Stan's house. But poor boy won't stop flipping channels. "We're watching Terrance and Phillip!"

"Oh, pipe down, dude, it's a commercial right now," Kenny replies, lazily pointing the remote at the TV.

"But we won't know when the commercial ends if you're on VH1! Go back!"

"Just do it, dude," Stan sides with me. Kenny sighs and flips back to the channel, tossing the device to the floor.

"See? Commercials. Just like I said. Oh, dear! You almost missed Billy Mays advertising stain remover!" His voice is dripping with sarcasm, but it makes me giggle a bit. Kenny is good for that.

"Hey, Kenny?" Stan says. "Did you bring back my dad's porn movies? I don't want him to realize they're gone. I'll die." Kenny pulls the grape sucker from his mouth with a light 'pop' sound and shakes his head.

"No. Kevin got a hold of them. There's no telling where they are now," he says, sticking the purple candy back into his mouth.

"Jesus Christ, dude! My dad's probably going to look for them tonight! And then he's going to blame me for losing them!" Stan whines, and I strain my ears to listen to Terrance and Phillip.

"Alright, alright. I'll go look for them, just don't get your panties in a bunch." Kenny pushes himself off the couch and pulls his hood over his head on his way to the door. "There's no telling when I'll be back, dear friends. Just remember, I love you both, and if something should happen to me, I will always be in your hearts."

"Yeah, yeah, get outta here, Kenny," Stan says jokingly, eyes locked on the TV. I see Kenny flip him the bird before exiting the house.

"Dude," I start. "Is your dad really that desperate? I mean, he has a wife." Stan leans back comfortably in the couch.

"He's become hooked on girls eating each others' shit and bestiality and other perverted crap like that," he tells me.

"Ew."

"Yeah."

Fifteen minutes later, Terrance and Phillip is over but Kenny still isn't back. Where is that boy? I'm starting to miss his company.

"We're all alone," Stan comments pointlessly, the TV now turned off. I purse my lips and nod my head, wondering why his statement made me feel so awkward. I mean, being Super Best Friends and all, Stan and I have been alone together countless times. Why is the atmosphere so strange this time? I feel my cheeks get hot. "We should make out."

My initial reaction is laughter, thinking he's kidding around, but when his expression doesn't change I freeze. "What?"

"Don't you think it would be fun? I mean, we're both sixteen, you've only kissed one girl in your life and that was eight years ago. It would be like... practice."

"You can't be serious," I say incredulously. "Y-... you're not serious are you?"

"Kyle, you're my best friend. A kiss won't change our friendship, alright? It's just kind of an... enjoyable activity." Was he on something?

"What if Kenny comes back?"

"Who cares?"

I bite my lip. Even though Stan is making this seem like no big deal, my stomach is in knots.

"Here," he says quietly, his face suddenly inches from mine. Then I feel his lips mesh with my own. I don't even know how to react so I do nothing. Stan detaches his lips but doesn't move. "Just kiss me," he whispers. "Breathe through your nose. And separate your lips a little." When the initiates contact again, I follow his instructions. It's the most awkward thing I've ever felt in my life, and when I feel his calloused fingertips against my cheek, my eyes flutter closed and I finally relax. It actually feels pretty nice, and-... whoa, he just threw his tongue in there, I feel it on my bottom lip. I decide the appropriate way to react would be to add my own tongue to the mix, so I do so, and he massages it with his. "Mm," he moans softly, breaking away with a loud smack and hungrily reattaching not a second later. He grips my waist and pulls his legs up onto the couch, beginning to push his body into mine, causing me to lean backwards against the arm of the couch. His tongue feels really nice inside my mouth, and I don't want it to end. But then he stops, moving his head down to the crook of my neck. He places sloppy, succulent kisses on my neck, his wet muscle darting out occasionally and sometimes his teeth.

"S-Stan," I whine, no longer caring that the person pleasuring me is my best friend. Pleasure is pleasure.

"Kyle," he says, coming up for air. "I-I need to jack off." He starts to get up. "I'll be right b-"

"No!" I stop him, grabbing his arm. "L-Let me do it." He doesn't even attempt to protest as I unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. I shuffle the denim pants down to his knees, his boxers going with them. It takes me a minute to get accustomed to the sight of his monstrous size, but I snap out of my daze and wrap my fingers around his erection. I hear him gasp as I start to slide my hand up and down.

"K-Kyle... A little more like..." His breath hitches and becomes shaky as I angle my wrist differently. "Y-You got it. Just like that. Ohh..." I lick my lips hungrily seeing the precome leaking from the tip. "Faster," he whispers. "And t-talk dirty to me. I need you to talk dirty."

"Oh, Stan, harder, Stan! Fuck me until I bleed, PLEASE!" I moan, acting as if he is fucking me. I can tell it's working because he tilts his head back and his breathing is getting heavier. "I want to feel you inside me, Stan, all the way deep inside my tight ass, oh, yes! I want it fast and hard! Make it HURT!" He moans loudly and I see his eyebrows furrow.

"Jesus Kyle," he pants. "I'm close. I-I'm gonna... I'm about to come! Ah!" I manage to get my mouth around the head of his cock before his seed can spill onto the couch. I swallow all of the salty, sticky goodness, then come up and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

The front door burst open at that very moment and Kenny's light southern accent echoes through the house. "Hey Stan I found your dad's po-..." The poor boy cuts himself off when he sees Stan and I so close on the couch, Stan's pants and boxers pulled down completely. The two of us just stare at Kenny in horror and embarrassment, waiting for him to say something, ANYTHING. All he's doing is looking at us! When finally, a girlish giggle escapes his lips. "Why'd you guys wait for me to leave? Three heads are better than one!"

Suddenly full of rage, I pick up the closest thing I can find.. which happens to be one of my heavy snowboots, and huck it at Kenny as hard as I can. It hits him directly in the head with enough force to knock him out. He falls backwards, his head colliding with the swinging door. Stan, after frantically pulling his pants up, looks to me in horror.

"Oh, my God, you killed Kenny!" he screams at me. I look back and forth between Kenny and the boot, and realize he's right.

"Oh... I'm a bastard."