A Friendly Wager

BY : Quondam
Category: +S through Z > Simpsons
Dragon prints: 15083
Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

This is set some years into the future. Not sure where the hell I pulled it from but enjoy.

The baseball collided with the wooden bat and a resounding "crack" issued forth, only microseconds ahead of the roaring of the crowds. The little white sphere soared upward at an angle, flying unerringly to the outfield.
Bart watched in horror as the small projectile zoomed through the air like it had been shot out of a cannon.
"This could be it, folks. Going, going..."
"Take, me out to the baaall game, take me out to the crowd..."
"It is gone! Mark McGwire has just made history folks..."
Nononononononononononono... Bart tried to impose his will on reality, to no avail.
"Buy me some peanuts and cra-ck-er-jacks, I don't know if I'll ever come back..."
"He's on his way home now. Another great hit for McGwire and history has been made."
Diediediediediediediediediedie... Bart thought hatefully.
"Root, root root for the home team, if they don't win it's a shaaame..."
"All right!" Bart snapped, burying his face in his hands.
"Cause it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball gaaaaaaaaaaaaame!"
Milhouse held the last note like Pavarotti himself, waving a St. Louis Cardinals flag. He stood upon one foot gracefully, grinning triumphantly.
"It doesn't count," Bart muttered. "It was a cheap hit."
Milhouse somersaulted over the couch, snatched the remote from Bart's grasp and increased the volume on the television to near-deafening levels.
"Roger Maris' record of forty years has been broken today by Mark McGwire ..." the sportscaster blathered.
"Your surmise appears to be inaccurate, Bart," Milhouse told him smugly.
Bart folded his arms and glanced at his exuberant friend. A bet was a bet, after all, but he was feeling cheated. If the ball had gone into the stands, that would have been one thing, but just limping over the first wall? Not fair at all...
Milhouse flipped onto his feet and stuck his face directly in front of Bart's sulky glare. "I believe the wager was that the inestimable Mark McGwire would not break the standing record this season, which he has, in fact, done. Are you attempting to renege?"
"No..." Bart muttered sullenly. "Fine, fine, you win! Happy?"
Milhouse gave him a toothy grin. "Quite satisfied. Now, as to the one favor..."
"What?" Bart snapped peevishly.
‘’Oh I’m sure I’ll think of something
The main shower of the mansion was a sizable chamber -- as was the style for many of the most expensive homes. The beige tile under his bare feet was clean, thankfully; he didn't want to slip. The shower had a nozzle accessory which would make the procedure easier.
Bart was actually amazed that this was all that he had to do. In fact, though he would never tell his friend (at least not until the bet was settled) he would happily do this any time.
Bart turned to the mirror and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He was dressed only in his uniform speedo -- simply because he was expecting to get drenched and it was the only bathing suit he owned at the moment.
He grinned a little in a sardonic way. Valet...yeah, right you arrogant bastard, he thought with a mental roll of his eyes.
Milhouse walked in within moments, a large terry-cloth robe draped around his hirsute frame. He glanced around at the bathroom critically, inspecting every detail with his keen eyes. After a long, judgmental silence, he finally nodded his approval.
"Adequate," he stated evenly.
He slipped off his robe, revealing his navy-blue trunks underneath. With an air of calm dignity that only Milhouse could manage at such a moment, he hung his robe on a hook on the wall.
Bart rolled his eyes and shook his head at his friend's display. "Get over here, Bigfoot."
Milhouse raised one eyebrow. "That's hardly the proper manner for a valet to address a gentlemen with."
"You're gonna milk this, aren't you?"
"Quite so, Bart."
Bart sighed heavily. Perhaps this would not be so easy as he had originally estimated. "Very well, Sir, if you would be so good as to step over here? I have warmed the water to what should be a suitable temperature.:.
Milhouse padded over as Bart turned on the water. One hand reached out with a delicate gesture of one finger, testing the water.
"A touch warmer, if you please."
Bart gritted his teeth and adjusted the temperature slightly. "Better?"
Milhouse tested it once again. "Much," he approved and started to step into the shower.
Bart cough delicately. "Sir?"
His friend turned with a curious expression. "Yes?"
Bart tugged on the waistband of Milhouse's trunks and then let them snap back into place. "I believe your orders were a complete shampoo. That would be head to foot in my book."
For the first time since this had started, his friend looked uncomfortable. "I...that is to say, I would not require so complete a treatment. Propriety suggests a certain decorum must be maintained."
Bart shook his head insistently. "You said a full shampoo...sir. I don't want to run the risk of you saying the debt is not paid because I did not fulfill my end of the bargain."
"Bart..." Milhouse said in a low voice. "You don't have to..."
The little bastard grinned. "I want to. Now, off with them. Sir."
Milhouse was going to balk; Bart could sense it. Already he was preparing a half-dozen snide remarks in defense, to try and distance himself from the exposing comment he had just made. This was Milhouse's idea, after all. Bart was only trying to be thorough...
Whatever bantering argument his friends had been considering dissolved into a single, softly-spoke question; "You wouldn't mind?"
"Course not," Bart told him honestly. "Milhouse, we've been friends forever it seems. There's nothing I haven't seen. If you want a shampoo, I'll give you one."
Bart had seen Milhouse naked before, but long ago -- back when they had been just students. The sight was something to behold.
Now, of course, the speedo left very little to the imagination. The only real mystery it left was Milhouse's penis -- which was where Bart's gaze locked for a moment. The organ was long and baby-skin smooth in appearance. Flaccid as it was, it lay snuggled against his furry scrotum lazily. The fur of his pubic region provided a small nest for his genitals.
Bart forced himself to stop staring and turned the shower on. He followed Milhouse in and grabbed the shower hose. "I'm going to enjoy this," he muttered with a grin and blasted Milhouse with a torrent of water.
Bart quickly reminded himself that this was his friend, not a model in one of his Playgirls and that he should therefore stop his gaping and get his mind back on track. If he kept gawking like this, it would only be moments before his friend started to suspect him.
The shampoo smelled rather nice -- sort of a strange mixture of floral scents with something that resembled cinnamon and...orange and banana? Bart considered asking his friend exactly what was in the shampoo, but then thought better of it. "It was still a cheap hit."
"It surmounted the first wall, Bart. That is all that is relevant," Milhouse returned, unperturbed.
Bart worked the shampoo into Milhouse's back, finding that he enjoyed the slick, sudsy feeling under his fingers.
"You are quite adept at this, Bart."
"Yeah, well, as a kid, I was always the one who had to wash the dog," Bart returned with a grin.
Milhouse huffed indignantly. "Which is approximately as close as you came to a shower, I'm sure."
Bart was not certain what idle conversation to make. He was very aware of Milhouse's naked body so close to his -- and the fact that he himself was wearing very little. It created a tension that left his mind a total blank.
Milhouse let the silence linger for a while before launching into a long monologue about the new IMAC from Apple. Bart listened and interjected "uh huh's" where expected, but otherwise tuned it all out. He couldn't seem to focus his concentration on listening, either.
Milhouse was putty in his hands, totally relaxing under the gentle ministrations. His bulk sagged against his valet slightly, basking in the attention. Bart doubted very seriously that his friend had ever been treated to this, and in all likelihood this had been a long-standing wish. That idea made Bart happy, in some small way.
More dangerous territory was around the bend, so Bart lingered for a while, soaping and massaging Milhouse's neck and shoulders. His hands were starting to become sore, though, warning him that he would have to stop eventually. His friend was obviously in no hurry, though, so he could stall for a bit longer.
But only a bit.
Bart cleared his throat in a demonstration of his growing discomfort. Carefully, knowing all the while this was the last stop before the train headed straight to where he wanted to go and was terrified of visiting.
The trouble he found himself in was of unintentionally conveyed meaning. If he ventured into more private areas, Milhouse might suspect that he had designs on him. Which was not true, of course. He was interested, certainly, but not actually planning anything.
Bart knelt and hesitantly started on Milhouse's legs -- the back and outsides only, though. He was taking every step down this rocky road with painstaking care. He had to somehow maintain the semblance of propriety.
"I do believe that your cold calm is beginning to crack, Bart."
"Huh? What?"
"I sense a bit of trepidation."
Bart shot him an affronted look. "I'll show you trepidation."
He reached up and started scrubbing the ass above him. Milhouse smirked and steadied himself by leaning on the shower wall. He did not seem to be minding at all. In fact, he appeared to be enjoying it.
Bart was more than a little indignant. He had simply been trying to respect Milhouse's personal space. He had been acting out of courtesy. Now his friend was haranguing him for being shy? He determined to make the oaf pay for the mistake.
Bart poured a generous handful of the shampoo into his palm and stood, standing very close to his friend's back. He spread the gooey substance between his hands and then caressed it into Milhouse's hips.
I'll show him, he thought with an evil smile.
More shampoo and he was now teasing and toying with the soft skin of Milhouse's pubic region.
"Urk!" Milhouse yelped, now completely on the defensive. "I don't think you need--"
"It is my duty, sir," he murmured into his ear. He was taking a sadistic delight in his friend's discomfort. "I must thoroughly groom you."
"I hardly think that it is proper- Oh my sweet Christ in heaven
More out of vindictiveness than sexual play, Bart had grabbed a hold of Milhouse's penis and was soaping it slowly.
"Those were your orders, weren't they? Sir? A total grooming?"
"Perhaps...you are being...too literal...my good man."
Bart chuckled softly. "Am I? Well, you keep throwing those ten-dollar words around and I--" his words faltered as he felt something totally unexpected.
The cock was hardening.
The soft, leathery skin became taught as blood engorged it. The large, proud organ throbbed in his hand, obviously enjoying the attention and oblivious to the source.
Bart felt awful of a sudden. He had not meant to get his friend excited. Embarrass him, certainly, but not to this extent. Now he felt beholden to finish what he'd started, which he knew would not sit well with his friend. The only other choice was to leave it be, but Bart hated getting a person started and then abandoning them.
The shampoo was providing an enduring lubricant, letting his hand slide up and down quite smoothly. Looking over Milhouse's shoulder, Bart could see the thick organ twitching in his grip.
He caught his breath, keenly aware of his own erection at that point.
"Perhaps...you should stop..." Milhouse murmured, sounding uncertain.
Bart nodded and reluctantly released Milhouse's penis. He felt guilty and a little flustered. He had enjoyed touching his friend. He wanted to continue and he was sure that Milhouse was aware of that. The thoughts were wrong...so wrong... He was his best friend. It was beyond foolish to think that way of someone you valued so much.
What would this do to their friendship?
"Children shouldn't play with adult toys," Milhouse joked boisterously, breaking the tension.
Bart felt relief wash through him, exorcising worry and fear. Milhouse was letting it go, forgetting about it, so he could too.
"Looks child-sized to me," Bart quipped.
Bart knelt again and went back to work on his is friend's flanks. With the pall of consternation no longer hanging over his head, the remainder was easy. He gently but thoroughly laved through Milhouse's lower extremities, staying discreetly behind him. He was not prepared for the odd feelings to return and he knew that they would if he found himself kneeling before Milhouse.
A warm, thorough rinse completed the shampoo cycle. The conditioning was not nearly so involved, under Milhouse's instruction. Bart need only wait a few minutes and then simply rinse off his master once more.
Afterwards, Bart dried him off with soft, cotton towels. Bart snorted laughter. "You look like a half-drowned cat."
He helped his friend back into his terry-cloth robe and followed him out and down the hall to his room.
Milhouse folded his arms and gave him a long, hard stare.
"All right, all right... Sir, please lay down on your stomach," Bart said contritely.
He went over to the dresser where he found an array of massage oils. The sheer amount and variety caused him to hesitate.
‘’Take the vanilla essence balm. I assure you it is most satisfying’’
Bart shrugged. "Okay, I'll take your word for. Now, if you would do me the honor of lying down on your stomach, sir," he said with exaggerated courtesy. "I will get started."
Milhouse nodded cooperatively and sprawled out on the bed. Bart rested one knee beside his friend's broad chest and leaned over him. His friend smelled of soap and shampoo -- that pleasantly cozy right-after-the-shower smell that Bart liked.
"Hey, you're sure that hide of yours is pre-shrunk, aren't you?" Bart quipped.
Bart started at the shoulders with a simple downward stroke There was the barest hint of a shiver from his friend, but Bart paid it little mind. It was apparent that he would have to put some elbow grease into this task.
He kneaded his hands into his friend’s back. A few turns at this showed progress, which he took some small pride in. Now that he was committed to this job, he fully intended to do it properly.
There was a heavy sigh of contentment from his friend as the attention flooded his nerves with pleasant tingling sensations. Bart smiled to himself at that. He had found his overly-intellectual friend's weakness. Now he could win any fight by simply breaking out a bottle of massage oil.
Bart had never really had the occasion to touch his friend like this. Under that soft skin, though, were the hard, firm muscles that gave his friend his strength. The two feelings created an interesting contrast that occupied Bart's thoughts for several quiet minutes.
He paused only briefly before letting his hand over his friend's left buttock. There was a sound from his friend that sounded like a gasp being stifled but winning free in a final death-match. The large, hirsute body under him tensed for a single instant and then relaxed again.
Bart, feeling a little uneasy himself, did his best to seem non-chalant as he knocked out the snarls in the muscles covering his friend's behind
He proceeded down the backs of Milhouse's legs, discovering a tickle spot behind each of his friend's knees. It was something that he did not exploit at this time but kept it in mind for future reference. There would be a time and place for it later, he was certain.
"Okay, time for the front...sir."
Milhouse rumbled something incoherent and rolled onto his back, his eyes closed in bliss.
Bart went to work without delay, smoothing and relaxing the chest muscles. He worked his way over the belly and around the hips, focusing all of his attention as he reached the area around his friend's penis. He could quite easily just proceed on, he knew. But he was not exactly straight and the flaccid penis so close to him was drawing his attention.
Bart held his breath and very gently moved Milhouse's genitals out of the way as he worked down the pubic region.
Milhouse gave out a small whimper deep in his throat but did not offer any genuine protest.
Bart did not speak either, not wanting to break the little spell. He just went about his work diligently, enjoying the warm cock in his grip. There was a deep intimacy in the touch, much like it had been in the shower, only more open now.
The penis twitched a little bit and started to swell again. Bart massaged it between his fingers, unable to help himself. He knew it made Milhouse feel good and it was really turning him on. So he continued to toy with the cock and went about his brushing.
But soon the little duty was done and he was left sitting there with Milhouse's ever-growing erection in his hand, not wanting to let go. There was absolute silence from his friend, which was very close to permission.
Bart continued to stroke the thick cock with long, loving strokes, his gaze fixated on the sight. He was not as gay as many people thought, but he did have certain inclinations in that direction and the idea that this was his friend -- which should have precluded any arousal at this -- was actually making him even hotter.
"Um, Milhouse?"
There was a very long silence filled with near-panic from Bart. "Yes?"
"Do you want me to stop?"
More terrifying silence filled with insults and recriminations that only Bart could hear. Then the single word answer that brought a flood of mixed emotions.
"Okay, I won't." Bart replied, his excitement so high that he thought he might just pass out for a moment. His grip tightened on Milhouse's cock and stroked a little more deliberately.
Absolute silence reigned in the bedroom except for the faint, far away ticking of a clock. There was a palpable tension in that quiet, but Bart could not tell if it was from discomfort or apprehension or anticipation...or some odd combination thereof. He could only guess at Milhouse's thoughts right now, and his own were spiraling in turmoil.
Milhouse was his long-time friend. He was savvy enough to know that trysts like this, however pleasant at the time, tended to turn sour later. Sex between friends raised so many questions and blurred too many lines -- it was like playing with a loaded gun.
But it felt so good to be stroking Milhouse's cock, and from the deep breathing coming from his friend, he knew that Milhouse was enjoying it as well. To stop now would likely create even more confusion and problems -- questions of "Why did you stop?" and "Did I do something wrong?"
An enjoyable experience, however, would at least leave them only with guilt and maybe the need for some serious, quiet discussions.
"Would you like me to put it in my mouth?" he asked quietly. "I'd...r-r-really, um, like to."
Milhouse did not respond verbally. He seemed helpless and paralyzed by the unexpected and forbidden pleasures he was being granted. The bonds of friendship and trust that he shared with Bart ran so deep, were so powerful, that at this time -- with arousal so high -- this only seemed the next logical step.
There was a quick nod of his head to Bart's question, and that was all. It was all that Bart needed, though.
Bart slipped further onto the bed and curled around Milhouse's waist, still stroking that gorgeous erection. Released now from having to maintain the appearance of propriety, Bart let his other hand wander over Milhouse's furry balls. He hefted them and massaged them gently, enjoying their softness.
He nuzzled in close, rubbing the warm shaft against his cheek languidly. There were stifled little moans issuing from his friend, now, encouraging him to go even further. His tongue darted out, running over the soft, leathery skin of Milhouse's cock.
Nothing had ever felt so wonderful or tasted so good.
Bart ran his tongue up the underside of the shaft to the head and licked the pre-cum forming there. Then he licked his way down the upper part of the cock all the way to the base. The thick skin was surprisingly soft, making ever lick a microsecond of joy.
In a moment of daring, he even ran his tongue over the sac. Milhouse jumped at that, making Bart grin. He tickled the balls with the tip of his tongue and then went to work on the head.
The mushroom tip was very wide -- almost too big, but he got his lips around it. He sucked lightly at first, not wanting to overwhelm Milhouse, and then with more enthusiasm. The salty-tasting flesh felt wonderful in his mouth and he went for more, sucking two whole inches of cock down his throat.
Milhouse shivered and bucked slightly, all pretense of neutrality gone.
Bart slowly fed the whole thing into his mouth, quite proud of himself. He was not the most experienced at cock-sucking, after all. Once he had it, though it was easy to set up a rhythmic pumping motion.
The long cock slipped back and forth rapidly, as much from Bart's efforts as from Milhouse's desperate thrusting. It pulsed and throbbed and strained, begging for release.
Bart backed off, licking the base and stroking it gently.
"Oh...you bastard..." Milhouse groaned.
"You bet."
Milhouse squirmed away, coming to rest on one side facing Bart. Bart froze, worried that he had done something wrong, but he saw no warning signs in his friend's eyes. There was mainly just the glaze of ecstasy, but something else as well...
"I feel honor-bound to return this momentous favor," Milhouse told him quietly.
Bart ran his hand over Milhouse's shoulder. "You don't owe me anything. I'm happy to do it."
Milhouse shrugged uneasily. "Well, still..."
"No, really..."
"Bart, please, allow me just--"
"Milhouse, it's okay... I know you wouldn't normally do this."
"Well, no, but in the interest of scientific research, if nothing else..."
"Milhouse, I mean it, you don't need--"
"Dear god, Bart, I want to suck your cock."
There was a stunned silence afterwards as one person attempted to register the words just spoken and the other person struggled to figure out where he had found those words among all the others he'd been considering.
Bart could hardly deny how much he wanted it. His cock had been straining against his speedo forever now. He smiled a little foolishly and slipped that slim scrap of clothing off.
Milhouse took in his lean, toned body with a single, lusty glance. Bart's cock was rock hard and jutting upwards proudly. It invited the attention that it so immediately received.
Milhouse pressed in close, rubbing his sweaty body against Bart's in a sensual embrace that drove both of them wild. One of his huge hands wrapped around Bart's throbbing penis and stroked it a little awkwardly.
Their eyes met for a single moment and something passed between them. Nothing so profound or weighty as love, but just an acceptance of this as a gesture of friendship.
Milhouse slid down his friend's body and began to very carefully, very methodically lick at the rampant cock he was fondling. He explored the head and the shaft with equal attention, taking note of and enjoying every sensitive nerve that he found.
His tongue caressed lower, running over the tightly packed nuts. The texture was not at all unappealing, and he found himself licking with more and more voracity.
He gazed into Bart's half-lidded gaze and smiled, enjoying the knowledge that he was pleasuring his best friend. He took a couple of inches of Bart' cock into his mouth, experimenting, testing the sensation of having a man's penis between his lips.
Bart let out a helpless moan and bucked forward, so close to cumming that it hurt. He had been turned on for so long, wanting this forever it seemed. He could not wait much longer.
"Milhouse...let me...get on top..."
Bart adjusted their position so that he was above his friend in the 69 position. He leaned down and took Milhouse's cock back down his throat, sighing in ecstasy as his own cock was engulfed.
Bart thrust his cock downward into the welcome, lovingly attentive mouth and sucked the one below him down his throat with everything he had. He was so excited, so thrilled to have Milhouse's mouth on his cock and his friend's penis down his own throat that he soon lost all control.
Milhouse's startled moan was not at all displeased, and he followed very quickly, shooting a jet of cum down Bart's throat
The two did not move for a very long moment, contented and pleased by what they had shared. Bart finally rolled off and snuggled up close to his friend, assuring both of them that everything was okay. Milhouse nuzzled back instinctively, still equally lost in the fading echoes of orgasm.
"Oh...my..." Milhouse breathed. "Bart..."
"Shhh..." Bart soothed and kissed him.
They did not speak for a long, long time after. They just lay there and enjoyed the peace they had won with the release of their desires. Finally, though, Bart propped himself up on one elbow and looked deeply into the sleep-clouded gaze of his friend.
"I'll bet you Sosa beats McGwire before the end of the season," he murmured with a grin.
Milhouse rumbled deep laughter. "You're on, Bart..."

A/N: Well? I’m messing about with different topics and styles so please, read my stuff and leave me some reviews. One word stuff, four pages, anything, although I fear four pages may be a tad optimistic. So in conclusions, let me know what you think and if you want more.

You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story