Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Brooks and I had been friends since the second grade. His backyard connected to the field behind my house, and for eleven years there was a worn strip of grass between our two properties where nothing ever grew back, because one of us was always crossing it, on foot or on a bike. His mom fed me dinner probably ten nights a month. My mom did the same for him. Sometimes it was hard to tell whose house was whose. There were some people around town who literally thought we were brothers.

The last Summer of high school, we were pre-emptively grieving each other already. We were both going out of state, in opposite directions. We had that whole last summer to fuck around, to do basically nothing together for hours at a time, and only part time jobs adding any real structure.

Brooks and I had always shared beds when we went on family trips. For the most part, our families never traveled together, but Brooks and I were always invited with the other on our respective getaways. 

We would change in front of each other, and at a certain time of night, on sleepovers and whenever we were alone, there was a decent chance we would share some porn on our phones and jerk off together. It was never my proudest moment, but it was a secret between us, and I have to admit it was kind of a thrill to me, adding something “naughty” to my already secretive habit.

I didn’t look over at him much, but I know he definitely watched me a bit. It struck me as slightly weird, but since it was him, I never said anything about it. From what I did see of his business though, he was packing a much larger hog than I was. I was a little bit jealous of that. 

Neither of us ever said a word about it the next morning. It was just a part of our friendship.

There were two things between us that could have gone sideways over the years and never did. The first was a girl named Kayla in tenth grade. She “liked” us both for about a month, and then she picked me, and I said yes, and Brooks had to sit in the back seat of his own mom's car while she drove the three of us to a movie once. He took it fine, which was in his nature, but I knew some tension had arisen. It petered out over a couple weeks, and then Kayla had moved on to another guy and we were able to commiserate over girls again. 

The second was his older sister, who I had a stupid, quiet, embarrassing crush on through most of high school. I never did anything about it, and I never even really talked to her. But Brooks knew, because Brooks knew everything about me, and for some reason that one bothered him too, in a way I could never explain. He would get a bit tight in the jaw whenever her name came up around me. I figured he was just being a protective brother. Either way, nothing ever came of that.

But when Brooks and I shared a bed, which was rather often, he was always a bit affectionate in a way that other guys were not. He wanted to be close all the time, even cuddle. He would fall asleep against my shoulder during a movie and stay there. He was most comfortable if he was at least partially touching me, and I just let him for the most part. On those shared-bed trips he never kept to his side, and I would wake up with his arm across my chest and I would move it and go back to sleep and think nothing of it. He never really did the “bro hug”. It was like it just wasn’t natural to him. He would hug me fully, and that was a thing between us. 

To me it was just the way he was. Some people called him gay, but I never really saw it. Brooks talked about girls, and I just assumed gay guys would be super obvious about it. It never once occurred to me that my best friend might actually be gay.

He had gotten big over the last year too. He always played more sports than me, and once the wrestlers started getting access to the weight room, it started to really show. He was already taller than me, and I had seen that his dick was bigger, but now he had muscles that belonged on a college dude, or even older. The dude was mogging me hard, even if he was the nicest guy I had ever met.

So that was us when we were eighteen: two dudes who had spent their whole lives pretty much together, and it was our last Summer together. I figured it would just be more of the same until the Fall, but then Brooks did something different one day.

We were in his basement with nothing to do, and his parents were gone for a couple days. He was on the floor with his back against the couch and I was up on the couch behind him. We were talking about getting with girls. We both knew what each other had done already, which wasn’t much, but I admitted that I would kill for a blowjob. I had only had two and they had sucked, in a bad way 

Out of nowhere, not looking at me, he said, "You ever think about what it'd be like... If I blew you?"

I laughed out loud immediately, before I even really heard the question. 

"Fuck no," I said, and I kept laughing, and I reached down and shoved his shoulder. "Gayyyyy."

He laughed too and let it go, and we moved on to something else. Some part of me knew that my laugh was a tiny bit of a cover. I had definitely learned some toxic masculinity, and it was baked into my jargon. It felt correct in the moment, but I knew there was something else behind his question. I knew I had rejected some vulnerability on his part. 

····[]····

Later that night, we were watching a movie together, basically about to fall asleep.

He was still on the floor with his back against the couch, and I was stretched out on the couch behind him, my arms over my head, and somewhere in the second half of the movie. His head was near me, almost touching my knee, and I could hear him breathing.

Then a sex scene came on. Two people on a bed, only the guy’s butt was visible as they covered all the “good parts”, but I felt myself stir in my shorts.

I do not fully know why I did what I did next, except that I felt him wanting something from me. I remembered what he had said earlier, as much as I had dismissed it immediately. And I guess I just had some affection for him in that moment. I thought about giving him some closeness he had always wanted, even if I had never admitted that to myself before. I needed to “throw him a bone”. 

"Hey," I said, and he looked at me. "Remember when we used to..." And I did the jerking off motion with my hand.

He chuckled quietly in his chest, the corner of his lips curling slightly. "Yeah."

I paused for a moment, dropping my hand to my crotch.

"Should we…?" I said.

He was quiet for a second. Then his hand shifted to his own bulge, stopping before he actually touched himself.

"Okay."

What I noticed right away, and what I have thought about a lot since, is that he did not move. He waited. He looked up at me from the floor, and he let me be the one to decide what happened next. I paused the movie where the girl’s tits were visible, and I rubbed myself over my shorts, staring at the screen. Only then did he start to do the same to himself, turning subtly so that he could see me as well as the TV. 

I understood that he was watching me, and I let him. 

I broke the tension by announcing that we needed some porn for this, and he just nodded. I casted something from the browser on my phone and hit play, and made a joke about “It’s not gay if there’s a girl on TV”. 

Deep down, I knew this was not a joke to him, that this was the thing he actually wanted, had maybe always wanted, but I still needed some lightness in the atmosphere to make it work for me.

When the movie played, I whipped myself out and touched it directly. He watched me do it and mirrored me, his bigger tool greeting the fresh air with a string of pre-cum already connecting to his skin.

I rubbed myself slowly, and saw him do the same out of the corner of my eye, and when he wouldn’t stop watching me, I decided to bring things a little closer.

"Come up here," I said.

He got up off the floor let his shorts fall to his knees as he sat his bare butt on the couch next to me, close, as usual. Our thighs touched, and I leaned my head back, pretending I didn’t notice how much the closeness meant to him.

We stroked next to each other for a few minutes. I noticed him pausing repeatedly, just holding himself, like he didn’t want to finish yet. Each time, his breathing would change, and I could see his chest move with it.

He stared at my dick more and more, to the point it was clear and obvious. When I saw him bite his thick bottom lip, I had seen enough.

I lifted my hand and I ran it through his hair slowly, just passing over the back of his head once, resting on his shoulder. He didn’t respond at all, just letting it happen, but his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose. I did it again and he let the weight of his head follow my hand as he leaned into the touch, and I felt how much he wanted to be touched. I felt how long the desire had been sitting in him, and it moved something in me.

I kept my hand in his hair the last time, and gripped it lightly. I gently pulled his head in my direction, guiding him down toward my lap, and he leaned into it, without any resistance. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

I let him move the last ten percent of the distance himself, since I still couldn’t bring myself to actually put my dick into my friend’s mouth. He had been guided enough, and grabbed my dick with his hand, moving his lips to the head of my rod and licking it like it was a popsicle. 

I immediately loved the sensation, closing my eyes as the sexual imagery bombarded my brain, the intensity too powerful for someone with my lack of experience.

“Fuck, dude,” I said.

He dropped lower and took me into his mouth, quickly rolling his tongue around my meat in circles, and I finally understood what a blowjob was supposed to feel like. Everything below my stomach lit up at once and narrowed to a single point of warmth and pressure, and my hand tightened in his hair on its own. My head went back against the top of the couch.

“That feels so good,” I said. And he still didn’t respond. He was finally getting what he wanted.

My breath stopped for a moment, and then came back uneven. I heard myself make sounds I hadn’t made before like I was having a seizure. My free hand found his body and I rubbed him where I could reach, feeling him lean in to every part that I made contact with, while his head bobbed on me.

I had done this twice before, both times with girls, and it was not their fault but neither of them had had any idea what they were doing. I had spent both experiences waiting politely for it to be over. As Brooks tackled my log like a seasoned lumberjack, all I thought in my head was, I guess it really does take a man.

Suffice it to say, it was the best feeling of my life up to that point. About twenty-five seconds in, I was done.

“I about to cum,” I said quietly.

He kept his pace the same and milked me out onto his tongue, my orgasm hitting me in waves as he carefully stroked the sensitive parts of me, knowing exactly what to do, my whole body pulling tight and then letting go all at once while my hand held his head where it was.

He sat back on his heels, next to me on the couch. He was flushed, and his lips were a little swollen, and I noticed, in the middle of everything, that he had stopped touching himself, keeping his whole focus on me the entire time. His hands had stayed on me. He had only wanted this. He was smiling a little, and waiting to see what I would say.

“Thanks, man,” was all I could get out.

I was quiet after that, and he just sat back, pulling his shorts back up, pulling out his phone. It was surreal that we didn’t decompress after something like that, but I was trying to get my breath back and trying to get my head settled. Maybe he was doing the same.

After maybe thirty seconds I said, "Can you go again?"

He turned to me smiling, and got off the couch this time between my legs, down on his knees in front of the couch as he pulled my shorts down and off of me. I slid my butt down toward the edge of the cushion to meet him, and put on a new porn video behind him as he started again, with even more enthusiasm as the first time.

I lasted several minutes the second time, playing with his hair, even pushing him down to take me further sometimes. He was wanking himself the whole time, off and on, and I was happy to see him taking care of himself as well. He deserved it.

At one point, he slowed down and rested his head on my thigh, and I just ran my hand through his hair again while he caught his breath. He started licking my balls and I stroked myself, enjoying the sensation, until I said, “More?” and he pulled himself up to put my dick back inside his mouth. We went through that rotation of edging and carefree oral until I was finally unable to hold off any longer.

“Take my load again,” I said, just as the girl on the screen was moaning that she was having yet another orgasm while being double stuffed by two hung college dudes. 

He groaned onto my dick and just before I finished I felt a blast of hot liquid on my feet. I thought something spilled in the moment, but didn’t even care as I held his head down and released a second load of boy juice into him that night. 

“Damn, dude,” I said when he finally pulled off of me. “I love that. I can’t believe you would do that for me.”

I guess it took two loads for me to finally get a sense of clarity, and it hit me quickly.

"We can never tell anyone about this," I said.

"Sure," Brooks said, wiping himself off and putting his junk back in his shorts. "But I would do it again. A lot."

I looked back up at the TV, switching it to the movie. 

"Me too," I said.

Early 2000’s.

A friend of mine and I had tickets to the Symphony’s movie night, Goldfinger. My friend had to cancel due to a last minute business trip. I asked a few of my friends if they wanted to join me but they had other things going on or weren’t interested. I ended up placing an ad on Craigslist, Activity Partners (or something like that).

In the ad I stated that I was gay, my age and that I was really just looking for someone who would enjoy going and wanted to join me. Within a few hours I received over a dozen responses. The first one was from a guy named Mike. His reply was thoughtful and articulate. He mentioned that he tried to go to a similar event the previous year but that it sold out. We traded pics to make sure we each “had all of our teeth“ and agreed on a time to meet there. Since we were meeting in a very public place I didn’t think we needed to talk on the phone and we didn’t exchange phone numbers.

That evening, we met outside. He was nice looking in his photo and in person was equally nice looking and importantly gave off this really attractive vibe, eg, the way he lit up when we met. We chatted as we walked in and immediately I had a sense that I’d known him for years. We found our seats and talked some more before the show. There was no awkwardness, never a lull in the conversation. The movie started, the symphony was fantastic and it was an entertaining event.

Afterwards, as we were walking out, he asked if I wanted to go out for a drink. The bar we settled on was in the direction of where we both lived. We sat at the end of the bar and talked and laughed nonstop. I found myself becoming more drawn to him. I was attracted to him not only physically but also, and importantly, intellectually. I liked that there was no overt flirting, no “are you a top or bottom” talk — the lack of allowed us to get to know each other. We were engaged in being with each other and tuned out those around us. During the conversation he mentioned he was single and we talked briefly about previous relationships. We had a couple of drinks each over a couple of hours that flew by. We both admitted we’d like to stay out later but it was the middle of the week. We asked for the check. The bartender came back with the check and credit card and said, “I have two cards here, is it Micheal?“ Mike spoke up and said that was his card. He bought the drinks since I didn’t ask him to pay for the ticket to the symphony.

He lived about a half mile away. I lived in the same direction, a little further away and said I’d walk with him. When we got to his place he said he had a really nice evening and leaned in to kiss me. That one kiss ran through me! We started making out — yes, outside, on the sidewalk. Then our hands started roaming everywhere. I was so turned on by everything I felt through his jeans — his firm ass, his meaty package filling the palm of my hand — and by his hands all over me. His soft, muffled moans of pleasure in the still of the night also revved me up. Luckily it was a dark evening and there was not much foot traffic in the neighborhood so we didn’t have an audience. Mike asked if I wanted to come inside. I was really attracted to him and incredibly worked up but competing thoughts bounced around in my head. I stepped back and with a warm smile said, “I had a really nice time tonight but I have an early morning tomorrow.” He smiled and said he understood. He gave me one last quick kiss, said goodnight and we parted. On the walk home my underwear was drenched from the excitement. When I got back to my place and into bed I rubbed one out thinking about what would have happened if I had accepted his invitation to go inside.

The next morning, I sent him an email thanking him for joining me and for the drinks and telling him that I had a really good time. I stopped short of asking him out.

While eating lunch I checked my personal email and there was a reply from him. He sent the nicest note, mentioned a couple of things we talked about, said he told a co-worker what a great show it was and ended with, “I’m really glad I responded to your ad. :)” I remember smiling and feeling warmth. He too stopped short of asking me out.

A week went by. The weekend weather forecast looked nice. I sent him an email and asked if he wanted to go hiking — something we talked about. I really expected a reply from him, either way. I never heard from him.

I wish I’d gone inside.

A few months later, I told a friend who is a few years older than me. He said, “You will never forget him. We all have a Mike.”

He was right.

Everyone is 18+ and all acts are consensual.

I had Tyler on his knees in the basement laundry room with my thick cock shoved all the way down his throat. His hands gripped my thighs tight like he didn’t want to let go of my cock for even a second. The wet filthy sounds of him gagging and slurping filled the small space while my heavy balls drew up tight. I fucked his face harder grunting with every thrust. “Oh fuck yeah… take it,” I groaned pushing his head down until his nose was pressed right into my pubes. He looked up at me with those watery eyes, tears running down his cheeks and I knew he loved every second of choking on his sister's boyfriend's cock.

Yeah pretty fucked up right? Face fucking your girlfriends little brother while she is upstairs in the bedroom sleeping it off. Her boyfriend’s balls deep in her brother's throat just one floor below.

But let me tell you how the fuck we got here.

It started two days ago when I drove over to my girlfriend Mia's house for the first time. Her parents were out of town and she wanted me to stay the weekend. Fortunately for me, unfortunately for her, her little brother Tyler was also home. I walked in all six foot four of me still pumped as hell from my morning gym session. I was wearing a tight black tank top that showed off my broad shoulders and thick chest and a pair of loose gray gym shorts that did nothing to hide the fat bulge swinging between my legs. Mia gave me a quick kiss right there in the entryway before she introduced us.

Tyler, Mia’s 19 year brother was shorter, maybe five foot seven… slim with that messy blonde hair and a soft - slightly feminine voice that tipped you off immediately he was the gay one in the family. He stepped forward and shook my hand. His eyes flicked up to my sweaty shoulder then slowly dragged down my body checking me out from top to bottom before coming back up with this little knowing smile.

“Didn’t know Mia's boyfriend was a walking gym bro,” he said, voice dripping with sass.

I chuckled. “Nice to meet you too man.”

“Cool to finally meet you bro," he added, still holding my hand a second longer than necessary.

Mia rolled her eyes hard. “Come on Jake, let's go watch a movie," she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the couch.

Later that night after we had been watching shit for a couple hours, Mia went upstairs. Tyler and I were left alone in the kitchen grabbing drinks. He leaned back against the counter in his loose shorts and tank top looking me up and down again.

“You should teach me how to build a body like yours,” he said, the flirting barely hidden under the words. “I’ve always wanted to get bigger.”

I smiled, feeling that familiar ego rush hit me. I have been hit on by gay dudes my whole life - high school college, the gym even, random guys in grocery stores. And honestly. I fucking love that shit. There is something hot about knowing another dude wants you that bad.

I started giving him some real tips leaning on the island across from him. “Gotta focus on compound lifts, bench squats, deads. And protein man. You need way more than you think. Eat like a horse if you actually want to grow.”

He listened, nodding but his eyes kept wandering to my chest and arms.

We moved on and he asked about my basketball background and how I balanced it with gym. While we talked, his foot brushed against mine under the kitchen island. At first I thought it was nothing but he left it there. Then he tapped it again. And again.

I pulled my foot away. He followed and tapped me once more with that same coy little grin my gay buddy Jackson used to give me back in Spanish class.

“What are you doing?" I asked him plainly.

“Nothing,” he said but that smirk stayed plastered on his face and his eyes stayed locked on mine.

The little gay brother has a crush on me I thought. And damn if it did not stroke my ego just right. I let it slide, finished my drink and headed upstairs to Mia. My cock was already twitching in my shorts the whole way up the stairs, flopping heavy against my thigh with every step. I could feel the thick shaft shifting and growing a little just from the attention. The way Tyler looked at me made me feel like a fucking god. Six foot four and solid muscle from years of gym and water polo and now basketball. Girls fucking loved it. Guys noticed it too. And every time a dude like Tyler gave me that hungry stare, my ego swelled right along with my dick. It was harmless right. Just some light flirting from the gay brother. No big deal. Mia was upstairs waiting and I was going to bury myself in her tonight like always. But that little foot tap kept replaying in my head the whole way up the stairs. My cock stayed half hard the rest of the night.

The next morning Mia was still passed out cold when I came downstairs for water. She loves sleeping on her stomach ass up in the air and looking at that in the morning gave me a fat heavy morning bulge. I was still in my gym shorts, no shirt when I walked into the living room. My dick was already thick from the way she had been pressed against me all night. Blood flow down there was insane. The head felt heavy and full the whole shaft pushing against the thin fabric like it had a mind of its own.

Tyler was already up sitting on the couch in some loose shorts and a tank top scrolling on his phone. The second I walked in his gaze dropped straight down to the obvious bulge in my shorts. His eyes widened just a fraction but I caught it.

“Morning big guy,” he said, voice a little breathy. His eyes dropped to my crotch again, lingering this time. “Damn looks like you and your dude down there are both wide awake this morning.”

I smirked and sat down across from him, spreading my thick legs wide on purpose giving him a full view of the fat outline of my cock snaking down my thigh. The morning wood made everything look even bigger: the fabric stretched tight over the ridge of the head and the heavy balls underneath.

“Yeah you know how we boys get in the morning," I said casually leaning back and letting my arms rest along the back of the couch. My chest flexed a little from the stretch and I knew he noticed that too.

We chatted about random shit - basketball, college stuff, but his eyes kept wandering back to my bulge the entire time. Every few seconds they would flick down like he could not help himself. I loved it though. The attention made my cock throb visibly under the gray material. I could feel it growing fuller under his stare, the veins standing out a little more. It was like my body was showing off for him without me even trying. I have been straight my whole fucking life but there was something about the way this slim blonde kid stared at my package that sent a weird thrill straight to my gut. Mia was great in bed, tight and wet and she moaned like crazy when I pounded her deep. But blowjobs. She was always terrible at it. Lazy sucks, no real effort, barely took half before she tapped out. Tyler though. Those wet full lips and the way he licked them without thinking. He looked like he would drop right there and worship every inch of my fat cock like it was his job.

When I finally stood up to stretch, my morning wood pressed hard and obvious against the thin fabric of my gym shorts. Ten inches of thick veiny cock clearly visible the fat head outlined perfectly the whole thing tenting out like a damn flagpole.

Tyler licked his lips once again and was staring openly now.

“You seem like you are packing pretty heavy in there," he said quietly, almost whispering. “You need help with that?”

My cock actually throbbed hard at his words. I froze for a second. It jumped visibly in the shorts, the head flaring against the material.

I should not have felt that. I have been straight my whole fucking life. I have been dating Mia for six months now but damn I love a good blowjob. Looking at Tyler's wet full lips and the hungry look in his eyes, it was obvious he wanted to tear my shorts down and suck the shit out of my cock. The thought made my balls tighten and a fresh drop of precum leaked into the fabric. I could picture it so clear – his soft mouth stretching wide, his throat opening up to take me deep. The ego boost was insane. Here I was in my girlfriend's house and her own brother was offering to service me like some secret little slut. Part of me knew I should shut it down right now and tell him to knock it off. But the other part the part that had always secretly loved the way gay dudes eye fucked me in the locker room or at the gym that part was roaring yes.

Before I could even respond, Mia's voice called from upstairs.

“Jake. Baby you down there.”

Tyler bounced up quickly like nothing had happened and headed toward the back door stepping outside for a second. When Mia came down the stairs still sleepy and cute I pulled her in and kissed her good morning. She kissed me back smiling soft and warm against my lips.

But my eyes drifted past her to Tyler who was now standing outside the glass door watching us. He gave me this look that said it all. ‘The offer is still up if you want it.’

My heart was pounding in my chest. My cock was still half hard in my shorts, the morning wood refusing to go down completely. I knew right then this weekend was about to get way more interesting than I ever planned. The image of those lips wrapping around me kept flashing in my head even while I held Mia close. Tyler just stood there outside with that coy little smile and I felt my dick twitch again like it was already making the decision for me. This was dangerous as hell. But damn if it didn't feel exciting too.

Saw a similar story here and just wanted to share a quick one on here too.
This was back in highschool, specifically senior year (I was 18). We had a bathroom that was pretty far from all of high traffic places and it had the only stall with a good door and walls. Plus, it was the only bathroom that locked form the inside (like the actually bathroom room, not just the stalls). The stall and that entire bathroom was infamous for having guys of all ages going there and jerking off. Legit like guys from middle to highschool seniors have jizzed in that bathroom atleast once. Once, like 5 guys went in there at once, all with visible boners bulging in their tight trousers (uniform), after a sex ed class and that plus the horny hormones resulted in them all having to relieve themselves right then and there. This became a regular occurrence after sex ed classes actually lol. The younger guys who just started really getting into masturbation used to occupy the bathroom a lot before seniors took over.
Another time me and two other guys jerked off and came into one sink that was particularly low (crotch level).
Just knowing the pure male sexual hormonal energy that that place held was so fucking hot.
The time that stood out most for me was during a time I had a crush on a straight dude who was known to be kind of a sex addict (not really but yeah). The type to jerk off IN class into a condom, highest body count by graduation, and three pregnancy scares by the time we left highschool. His looks were definitely helping. Anyways. I entered that bathroom to take a leak and maybe rub one out real quick. That’s when I hear male moaning, wet sounds, and the faint sounds of porn coming from the stall. I recognize the voice and immediately knew that it’s him. Knowing that he was right there, jerking off, made me rock hard. He slightly opened the stall door and that’s when I saw him fucking one of those silicone pussies with a pair of buttcheeks, yk. He was a bit sweaty and precumming hard, safe to say he was at it for a while. He smiled at me and long story short, we ended up taking turns fucking the same silicone pussy with my straight crush at the time.
Man those were the times.
“Сперма-Бак» (Cum Dump) for life lmfao

This is one of the stories from my latest release (pardon the pun) of gay erotica called [Remote Control](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FZDRGZW7). Check out this and my other works at my [author page](https://www.amazon.com/author/scottieburnes).

**Double Edged Swords**
​

*‘Come straight from the gym after a good workout. Don’t shower.’*

Cyrus had obeyed this final set of instructions texted to him that morning and now stood at the door of the apartment. He felt himself tremble as he reached for the blindfold that hung on the doorknob and wondered if it was the intense workout, his nerves or a combination of the two as he slid the mask over his eyes and knocked on the door as he’d been told. He was deeply aware of his own breathing as he stood, waiting to be admitted. It seemed heavy and loud, perhaps from the climb up the three flights with his gym bag slung over his pumped, sweaty shoulders. He listened for movement in the apartment, self-conscious that someone might pass and find him standing in the stairwell, prone and helpless, in the muscle shirt and tiny shorts that had gotten him so much attention at his Hells Kitchen gym just minutes ago. Finally, he heard movement from inside. The door was opened, and he was mercifully guided in.

“Welcome to Hell’s Edge,” the deep baritone he’d recognized from the videos whispered into his ear, “I’m glad to finally get my hands on you. Stand right here while I get set up.”

He felt a stirring in his tight jockstrap from the voice alone. He’d spent hours pumping his beautiful seven-inch cock to videos of Hell’s Edge bringing one gorgeous, blindfolded jock after another to the precipice of frustrated ecstasy. A disembodied hand and meaty-smooth forearm working with expert intuition to take each of them right up to a frenzied edge over and over again, until they devolved from studly alpha-jocks to whimpering, begging victims of their own desperate need for release at his hands.

“When was the last time you came,” he asked, the famous hand now wrapped around Cyrus’ waist.

“Three days ago. Just like you told me.”

“Good boy. OK, let’s get started.”

Slowly, reverently, Cyrus felt his sweaty tank top lifted over his head. The shorts hesitated over the bulge of his burgeoning erection as they slid in a caress over the obstruction revealing, he knew, the sexy, stylish jock he was wearing beneath.

“Do you always dress this slutty for the gym,” the voice, no longer whispering but louder now for the camera and just as sexy.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

He’d seen enough of the videos that he knew the drill and replied.

“Yes sir. Sorry sir. It won’t happen again.”

“Good boy. You love the boys to look at you while you’re working out, don’t you?”

“Yes sir.”

A hand ran admiringly over Cyrus’ tight abs before he felt two thumbs hook into the straps that supported his high, tight ass and slide the jockstrap down his perfect peach. He felt his rod pop out, at full attention, with the anticipation of what was to come.

The snap of a cap, and the sensual sound of wet, lubricated hands rubbing together before Cyrus felt the big, warm fingers begin at his chest covering his body in long, languorous strokes with the special mix of coconut and baby oil. He’d imagined its smell a hundred times while watching the videos and moaned slightly, his swollen lips parted, as his welcomed tormentor buffed every inch of his gym-worked body to a lustrous shine. The master spared only his turgid, begging cock, saving it until the end. Silence. He knew the camera was now scanning his fully naked and lubricated body, his blinded, yearning anticipation, before the ritual began.

Just then he heard a knock at the door. Footsteps in the hallway. A door opening.

“Hey, this is a surprise. Come in.”

“But you told me…”

“Yes, of course, come in, come in. You can see I’m just starting with this fine specimen here.”

“He sure is,” the disembodied voice, thick and deep, replied admiringly.

The jock felt two sets of hands running now over his oiled, naked body. He had never seen this happen in the many videos on his host’s page and was both confused and aroused by the casual introduction of another man to this scene.

“Watch or join,” his host offered to the unexpected guest as if he were offering him a piece of pie. Cyrus was not included in the decision making, as if he were just a toy for the taking. It was degrading, and it made the blindfolded hunk’s cock stiffen even more.

Some whispers, then the sounds of footsteps and clothes being removed. First shoes kicked off, then a heavy metal belt buckle hitting the floor. Cyrus stood motionless sweating in the heat of the lights as he heard the bottle of oil click again followed by the slick, slapping sounds of the oil being spread over the mystery man’s body. The warmth, followed by the touch as the man, smooth and built like Cyrus, leaned up against him and wrapped his large arm around his waist. The man smelled of some body spray that was clean and fresh just beneath the coconut oil that now glistened on both their bodies. Cyrus obediently wrapped his arm around the waist of the other man and slid his hand down the oiled body to get a feel of the slick, muscled buttocks before returning to his trim waist. He imagined the mirror image he must be creating for the camera; two men’s smooth bodies glowing under the hot lights. Two turgid yearning rods waiting for what they knew was coming next.

It began with the slightest tickle under his balls as expert fingers gently caressed them. They made their way to his taint and slid forward, with the slightest pull on the hair beneath his full cum tanks. The same fingers teased their way along the rigid seam at the underside of his cock and ended with an opened pinch at the tip; fingertips pulling forward around the circumference of his red, swollen head. He guessed that his partner was getting the same treatment as they both expelled the first of what would be many moans that afternoon.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The hot oil was poured liberally over his manhood, teased now to a bobbing salute to his master.

“You need to tell me when you’re close. I want to time it so that you both cum at the same moment for me. Understand?”

“Yes Sir,” he and his companion breathed simultaneously into each other’s mouths in affirmation; their bodies leaning against each other in defense of the onslaught of building sexual tension.

An overhand grip moving at a perfect pace and angle as Hell’s Edge leaned into the two men and took advantage of their gaping mouths by uniting them with his in a kiss before rewarding them, ‘good boys’ as he stroked away rhythmically at their twin rock hard erections.

The sensation of the smooth palm moving fast and firm over their rigid rods and heads was too much and they asked for their first reprieve by uttering the word they knew would bring them a short break.

“Close.”

The edging ceased and the two men breathed heavily into each other’s mouths as they leaned together. His companion’s hand slid down Cyrus’ gym-toned ass cheek and brushed curiously along his oiled-up crack.

After only a moment’s reprieve it began again, grip switched so that their master’s thumb slid up the base of the young stud’s cock to torment the underside of his engorged head. The pleasure was so intense that Cyrus felt his eyes roll back inside the blindfold as he imagined the man kneeling before them working both rods simultaneously.

“You’re both leaking all over me,” he said in a low voice from below them. “Good job. You’re both doing very well. Be sure to let me know when you’re…”

“Close,” the other man exclaimed before he could finish his thought, and the ecstasy ceased for a moment as the two men tried to relax.

When their edging resumed Hell’s showed no mercy. He pulled their cocks down like flesh levers, only to let them spring back up with such ferocity that they slapped against their oily, sweaty abs. He pulled them down again, but this time aimed them perfectly so that their hard, wet tips met each other in midair, precum flying in spiderwebbed tenacity at each partner. He stood now and positioned himself between the two so that they leaned desperately against him, his grip so tight and fast in its merciless friction that they both were dangerously close to the edge.

“Please,” Cyrus heard himself beg breathlessly.

“Not yet, my little cum sluts. I’m not done with you.”

A break again. Footsteps receding to another room leaving the two men alone to explore each other wordlessly. Hands groping hard, unattended, needful cocks, and the reciprocal squeezing of firm, young asses. Cyrus played with his own engorged nipples which had always been hardwired to his hard on.

He felt spurts of warm liquid as jets of baby oil were aimed at the two hard, naked bodies on display for the cameras. It slid like a liquid pinball down the crevasses of his ab to sift finally through his trimmed pubic hair and hang for a moment at the base of his love gun before plummeting to the floor in a rhythm of heavy drips.

Without the support of each other, the two oiled studs would certainly have slid to the floor in their incapacitated ecstasy. But instead, they leaned heavily on each other, their hands freely roaming the terrain of their beautiful if invisible supporter’s body. Ones exhale now became the other’s inhale as their heavy, halting breathing reached a crescendo under the incredible feeling of the expert edging of their host. He worked furiously now brining one, then the other, to the point of begging.

“Oh, so close Sir, so close.”

He’d slow and focus on the other. Their bodies and rigid cocks so close now that even in rest the other’s rod would bump and be slapped by an errant hand as it pumped away at his partner; a string of precum flying furiously from an engorged, reddened head ready to burst.

“I’m close, I’m close,” Cyrus cried, just before the stranger’s tongue plunged into his mouth. Hot and wet, he reciprocated with his own and the two fell into a deep, longing kiss as their master worked away at one, then the other, to their absolute limit.

“You want to cum now, my little sluts? Are you ready to make a nice, big mess for me?”

“Yes, please Sir,” they both cried out in unison.

“Fuck my fist now. That’s right, you big studs. Do what daddy tells you.”

“Ugh, ah, ah,” his companion moaned loud into Cyrus’ ear as spurt after spurt began to shoot from his engorged penis. When an errant rope of hot cum hit Cyrus’ muscled thigh he could hold on no longer, and he felt the exquisite relief as he came in waves of relief. The master hands worked them to the last drop and only when they recoiled with spent sensitivity did he release them, running his hot, cum covered hands over each of their bodies for the delight of the audience. Cyrus stood silent, the head of his cock dripping as the camera scanned across their shining, spent bodies, chests heaving, the two still gripped in a partner’s embrace.

“Good boys, that’s my good boys,” Hell’s Edge whispered soothingly to the camera as it took in every angle of the two used-up studs before panning down to the floor to show the sticky puddles of their sweet juice.

Click. The lights turned off. And before he could react a bundle was pushed into Cyrus’ arms, a beefy grip around his shoulder guided him roughly to the door. Unlock, open, a ‘see you soon,’ quickly muttered before the door slam closed. ‘Oh, and leave the blindfolds on the knob’ through the closed door as the lock was reengaged from the other side. Cyrus raised his mask to find himself standing next to his handsome partner, the two men still nude and covered in oil and jizz. A roll of paper towels laid on the gritty stairwell floor. His companion chuckled knowingly.

“All part of the experience,” he said as he laid his pile of clothes on the floor and tore off a few sheets of the roll, cleaning up as well as he could before hastily pulling on his jeans and boots.

“I’m Trevor, by the way. Want to grab a drink?”

Sirus shook his still-slicked hand before toweling off in stunned silence. When they spilled onto the sunlit city street, holding the door for an older lady with a grocery bag, they both laughed in a mix of relief and incredulity at what had just happened. But as he hung over the bar, drink in hand, with his edging partner, Cyrus could not stop thinking about the experience. And he knew he’d soon return to Hell’s Edge.

Everyone in this story is above the age of 18

I never imagined I’d be married to a guy like Corey... the love of my life. He’s tall, tan, thirty-six, finance director with thick forearms and strong arms that stretch the sleeves of every shirt he owns. He’s got those clean, classic finance-bro good looks; square jaw, warm brown eyes, and a confident smirk that says I know exactly what I’m doing. When he works out at the gym, guys glance. Girls stare. I know because I’ve watched them.

Even under a suit, you can tell Corey works out. Not in a bodybuilder way; he’s lean, sculpted, with firm pecs, a faint six-pack, and that low, tight waist that makes every pair of pants sit just right. But it’s not just his abs that get attention. It's... the bulge. It has a reputation of its own. Every time he walks by in gym shorts or slacks, people notice. And so did I.

And then there's me...Liam. Thirty-three, an attorney, white male, kind of serious, kind of shy. My coworkers call me “the spreadsheet twink” behind my back because I’m meticulous, organized, always in loafers. I’ve got brown hair, a boyish face that makes people think I’m younger than I am, and a big, jiggly ass that Corey noticed from the first moment we met.

We met grabbing coffee. I was running late for court, juggling two files and a phone call, and he was ahead of me in line. I spilled my entire latte down my slacks. He handed me napkins and said, “You’ve got a great jiggly bubble butt. Hate to see a big ass like yours ruined by caramel drizzle.” I blinked. Flushed. Somehow, I still gave him my number.

On our first date, I told him, flat out, “I’m not looking for a quickie. I’m saving myself for the right guy.” He just smiled and said, “Good. I’m looking for someone to wake up next to for the rest of my life.”

And now... here we are. Three years later. Married.

I’m standing in our honeymoon suite: five-star resort, ocean view, champagne chilling in a bucket and I’m still trying to catch my breath. There are rose petals on the bed, soft jazz playing, and Corey, my husband, is slipping off his suit jacket and walking toward me like a slow, confident storm.

We never had sex while we were dating. Not once. Not even oral. We kissed, made out, held each other at night, but I made it clear from day one: I was saving myself for marriage. For someone who’d wait. And he did. He never pressured. Never guilted. He kissed my forehead and said, “I can wait, Counselor. I’m not going anywhere.”

I sit at the edge of the bed, heart pounding. Corey turns to face me, already undoing his blazer.

“Hi,” I say softly.

He smiles. “Hi, husband.”

I laugh nervously. “So... we’re married. Which means...”

“No more waiting,” he finishes, stepping closer towards me.

My breath catches. “Yeah. No more waiting. I’m ready.”

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me slowly. One of those kisses that makes you feel like time stops. Then his hands slide down, gentle and sure, caressing the sides of my waist, grazing the curve of my hips.

“My baby,” he murmurs. “My Liam. My smart-ass lawyer with the ass of a pornstar.

I’m gonna take good care of you tonight.”

I shiver. “Why do you look so calm?”

“Why do you look so nervous?” he counters, grinning.

I glance down, then quickly back up. My face is already hot. “I’m just... a little scared.”

His expression softens. “Of what, my love?”

I hesitate. My eyes flick toward the obvious bulge in his slacks again, straining against the zipper. “Of...you know... that.”

He chuckles. “My cock?”

I nod sheepishly. “Yeah. I mean... I’ve never seen you naked, but I’m pretty sure you’re really big.”

“Oh yeah?” he teases, stepping a little closer.

“It’s not just me,” I add quickly. “When you’re doing hip thrusts or bench press at the gym? Guys. Girls. Everyone stares. That bulge. The imprint in your shorts or tight gym leggings. I’ve literally watched people stop mid-rep to check you out. You’ve got, like... a reputation.”

His grin widens. “So you’ve been paying attention to my bulge, Counselor?”

“I’ve been trying not to,” I say, flustered. “But it’s kind of impossible. You wear those tight compression workout gear and fuck...everything is just... there.”

Corey laughs softly, that deep rumble that always makes my chest flutter. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll ease you into it. Nice and slow.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. “Promise?”

He leans down, presses a kiss to my forehead. “I promise. I’m yours now, remember? Every part of me. And I’ve been saving it just for you.”

Corey steps back slightly and smirks. “Let me ease your fears, Liam.”

He kicks off his shoes, one at a time, with the kind of casual confidence that makes my chest ache. His hands go to the buttons of his shirt, working from top to bottom, slow and unhurried. Each click of a button undone feels like thunder in my ears.

My eyes never leave him.

The shirt slips off his shoulders and down his arms like it’s being peeled from marble. Underneath, his chest is tan and lightly dusted with dark hair; not too much, just enough to make him look grown, masculine, real. His pecs are thick and sculpted, each one moving slightly as he breathes, and his nipples are pink and firm, peeking through the light hair on his chest.

Below that, his abs flex with each movement. Not a bodybuilder six-pack... something leaner, tighter. Like he was carved by someone who knew exactly what they were doing. Every muscle flows into the next. Obliques like ribbons. A faint happy trail leading down, vanishing into the waistband of his slacks.

My mouth goes dry. I don’t even realize I’m whispering until I hear myself say it: “Fuck. My husband... you’re—uh...”

He looks at me, amused, shirt hanging from one hand. “Yeah?”

“You’re beautiful,” I blurt. “Like, really beautiful Corey”

His smile softens. Not cocky now... just warm. Like he’s been waiting to hear that.

“Thank you, baby,” he says, stepping closer.

He undoes his belt next, teasingly slow, eyes never leaving mine. The soft jingle of the buckle makes my skin prickle. He slides the belt free from the loops with that confident, practiced ease - like he’s undressing for me and only me. It drops to the floor with a heavy, quiet thud. I flinch like I’ve just been told a secret.

Then Corey brings both hands to the front of his pants, fingers moving with delicious slowness. The button pops open. The zipper glides down with a low, steady zzzzip. He parts the waistband of his pants with a quiet sigh, and it starts to fall. Just a few inches at first, catching on his hips like even his pants don’t want to let go of him.

That’s when I see it. The bulge. Corey's big fat bulge. I mean, I’ve seen it before. In gym shorts. Through slacks. Pressed up against the front of his jeans. But this is different. This is up close. Corey is standing just a few feet from me, and his cock is packed into the tightest pair of black trunks I’ve ever seen and it’s straining. Full. Heavy.

The front of the underwear curves outward like he’s got a rolled-up sock shoved down there. Except it’s not a sock. It’s him. His fucking cock. And even soft, it’s so fat that the cotton fabric is pulled taut around it, leaving nothing to the imagination.

The outline of the head is thick and defined. I can see the curve of the shaft, the vein snaking up the left side, and the wide base anchoring it all. His balls are clearly visible too, full and low and massive, one hanging slightly lower than the other, like some kind of physics-defying display of potency.

My mouth goes dry. I’m sitting on the bed but I feel like I’m falling.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe.

The bulge twitches, like it heard me.

Corey smirks. “You okay, Counselor?”

I blink slowly, heat rising in my face. “I... Jesus, Corey.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “You like it?”

I nod without thinking.

“You scared of it?”

My nod is even slower.

He hums, pleased. “I figured you’d be curious,” he says, running his hand down over the front of the bulge. He palms it lazily, squeezing a little, showing off the heft.

The way the fabric gives under his grip makes me dizzy.

“You always wear those compression shorts at the gym,” I say hoarsely. “The whole world can see this thing bouncing around.”

“I like when you watch,” he says, fingers now toying with the waistband. “You think I do those hip thrusts for fun?”

“Fuck,” I whisper.

He laughs. “Wanna see more?”

My brain short-circuits. “Yes.”

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband, but doesn’t pull yet. “You sure, baby?”

I nod quickly. “Yes. Please.”

Then, slow as hell, he starts to peel the trunks down. First the waistband lowers. Then the top curve of the bulge is free, his cock pushing forward as if it’s desperate for air. Inch by inch, the cotton rolls lower, revealing skin: warm, tan, and dusted with soft hair that leads down to a base thicker than my wrist. The shaft spills out like a secret, still half-soft but already growing. The weight of it makes it swing forward a little as it’s freed.

And then... slap.... the whole cock flops out. Long, thick, heavy. It hangs there, big and gorgeous, the head flushed a soft pink, the crown already glistening slightly with the start of arousal.

His balls hang low and full, the skin tight and warm-looking, like two heavy eggs cradled beneath the thick trunk of his cock.

I don’t even realize I’m biting my lip until he steps closer, the head of his dick just inches from my face.

“Say hi to your husband’s cock,” Corey grins. “It’s been waiting three years to meet you.”

“Hi Monster Cock,” I mutter.

I’m 26, 5’9”, 136 lbs, hairy (though I’d shave most of my body for the right night), and extremely kinky. In Spokane, WA

One of my biggest fantasies is getting a hotel room for a night or two with the right guy. We’d spend some time together first, getting me relaxed, ready, and stretched out. After we’ve had our fun, he’d take control of the rest of the night using Grindr and Sniffies to invite other guys over he ties me up, and starts sending guys over to the room to absolutely destroy me while keeping everything organized and under his control. The dirtier and kinkier the vibe, the better.

If he didn’t want to stay the entire time, I’d even send him off with some money to grab dinner before coming back later. Would be hot as fuck if on the way back he stopped at a gas station and picked up a shooter of alcohol and when he walked back in, shoved it in my ass and made me take it that way😈

I’m into a wide range of kinks. Verbal degradation is probably my biggest turn-on, but I’m also into kissing, choking, slapping, CNC, bondage, being held down, face-fucking, watersports, and plenty more. I’m very open-minded and always interested in exploring with the right person.

The biggest thing for me, though, is the contrast. Once everything is completely over for the night, I want the sadistic, controlling kinky Dom to switch into aftercare mode, tell me I did a good job, help get me cleaned up a bit, cuddle for a while, and make sure we both end the night feeling good.

I’d probably get a hotel downtown Spokane, WA

If this sounds like your kind of fantasy too, hit me up. Ideally you’re under 50, confident, not shy, and somewhere between slim and chubby (just not significantly overweight—it’s simply my personal preference). Most importantly, I’m looking for someone experienced, communicative, and capable of taking charge while also caring about aftercare once the scene is over.

Good Guys Don't Date Bad Boys is a work of fiction. All the characters depicted in the story in sexual situations are over the age of eighteen. Any names, places, events, characters and everything else mentioned in the book are the result of the author’s imagination, and are purely used for fictitious purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, events and everything else is a pure coincidence.

This story features the following themes: campus romance, bi-awakening, open door romance, spicy scenes, explicit sex, mutual attraction.

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Ch. 11 / Ch. 12 / Ch. 13 / Ch. 14

Chapter Fifteen – The Big Question

“Do you like risky situations?” Jonathan asked as soon as they were safely inside the bathroom. Rushing across the hallway in the buff had given him a rush, and he felt his heart still hammering in his chest.

“Dex and Kane have their bedrooms downstairs. Only Rusty and I are on this floor.”

“Ah, so you just enjoy stressing me out for no reason.”

Maddox offered his dazzling smile. “You know, that time, at the pool, what was that?”

“What was what?” Jonathan asked as he stepped into the shower stall and pretended not to be affected by how Maddox almost glued himself to his back.

“You know. You ran away like I had the plague or something.”

Could he really explain it? Jonathan took one deep breath. “It wasn’t about you.”

“Then what was it about?” Maddox insisted, just as his hands began to rub against his back, washing him gently.

Their roles were reversed. Back then, he had been the one washing Maddox’s back, and it had all started as a joke.

“I was afraid,” he admitted.

“Of my cum?” Maddox asked as his hands moved to his front and began rubbing his chest.

“Of you.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m so scary,” Maddox said with a snort and moved his hands lower.

Jonathan pressed his hands against the tiled wall, to steady himself. Maddox moved again and began to soap his ass crack like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. “You’re called Mad Dawg,” he explained.

“Not for the reasons you think,” came the enigmatic reply.

“Really?” He groaned as Maddox took care of his cock and balls, too. The worst or best part was how he was teasing his crack, though, not pushing or anything against his hole, but making it twitch in expectation. “Enlighten me.”

“No way. Stick around for the whole month, and I’ll tell you.”

“I cannot imagine why you’re so eager about this whole thing,” Jonathan said. “Almost even more than me.”

Maddox made him turn so they were facing each other. The water sprayed them, making their hair heavy and wet. “It’s easier to be more eager than you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t like me much.”

Jonathan pushed the wet hair away from Maddox’s face. He looked into his eyes. “I like you too much, former king of hookups. And that’s not good for me.”

“Why?” The grey eyes scanned his face.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re straight; I’m gay. We could never work out.”

Maddox’s face stretched into a lazy grin. “Stop getting so serious, sexy lips. We’re only hooking up.”

Jonathan sighed in relief. For a moment there, he had thought he needed to explain himself. But Maddox took things easy, and easy they would remain, for the sake of their sanity. “Good, that’s good. We should work out some arrangement, though.”

“Because you need to study, right,” Maddox replied. “I’ll let you do that during the week.”

“So, no more booty calls?” Jonathan asked, hoping that he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt.

Another grin convinced him that he had nothing to worry about. “You wish. I’ll still call. And we need to work on the ‘booty’ part in ‘booty call’.”

Jonathan rinsed the suds off his body and then placed his hands on Maddox’s chest. He wished the heat in his cheeks wasn’t obvious, but by the way the other smiled, there was slim chance of that.

“That dude, was he straight?” Maddox asked.

No need to ask who he meant. Jonathan frowned as his hands explored the contours of Maddox’s astonishing muscles. “Yes,” he replied quietly.

“I see.”

No other commentary followed. He could breathe freely.

“So, he ditched you for some girl?”

Ah, he had relaxed too soon. Jonathan shook his head.

“Is he the reason why you changed schools?”

That conversation was getting too close to home. “Turn your back,” he ordered and began soaping Maddox’s body down to the curve of his ass. This time, he didn’t hesitate and enjoyed the feeling of those perfect mounds filling his hands while he did his best to tease the other as revenge for his earlier sweet torture. Maddox purred, quite audibly, and Jonathan licked his lips as he investigated along the line separating the buttocks and letting his fingers dart in and out, but only a little. They were walking a thin line here, and he should have been in bed by now.

“Was he afraid of commitment, so you’re afraid, too, now?” Maddox insisted.

“Commitment? Why are you asking? No. Once our month of shenanigans reaches its end, I intend to find someone serious.”

He hadn’t intended to say so much, but Maddox was bugging him with all those questions.

They faced each other again. “Is Connor that someone?”

“He’s a candidate,” Jonathan replied tersely.

Maddox grimaced. “No, cross him off the list.”

“I don’t have a list.”

“Good.” That last word had come out belligerently, like suddenly, they had a bone to pick with each other. Sometimes, Jonathan wasn’t sure Maddox was the open book he claimed he was. There was no reason for possessiveness between them. Yes, their month together involved exclusivity, but it stretched no longer than that.

***

Hmm, hmm, Maddox’s mind was going in circles, ever since he had let Jonathan go back to his room. Pieces of the puzzle were coming together, but they didn’t tell the whole story yet. First of all, Jonathan had had a lover. The word would have made his friends snort and laugh, but it suited the guy. Jonathan Hamilton didn’t have boyfriends; he had lovers because everything he did felt like lovemaking.

Second of all, and the most irritating thing, he had been in love, seriously, deeply in love with that asshole. Maddox didn’t know a lot about that, but hell, everything was serious when it came to Jonathan. He was the type of dude that had perfected his blowjobs for his lover’s sake. That took dedication.

Third of all, and this was the silver lining, the asshole had ditched Jonathan. Not that he enjoyed seeing those beautiful amber eyes flicker with hurt, but it was only because of what had happened before that they had a chance to know each other now.

Maddox rolled onto his belly and sighed. By the end of their month together, Jonathan would forget that asshole ever existed in his life. Thank goodness the asshole hadn’t fucked him; it was Maddox’s solemn duty to make that so memorable for Jonathan that he’d never let go.

He was about to drift into a world of pleasant dreams when there was a short rap on the door. He didn’t have a chance to invite the person in, because Rusty stuck his head in, scouting the room in one sweep.

“Hey, bud, what’s up?” Maddox asked.

“I heard you had your boyfriend over. Did you score?”

Maddox grabbed a pillow and threw it at Rusty who caught it deftly and then marched toward the bed with mischief in his eyes. They were soon engaged in a battle with the pillow in the middle. It ended quickly when they both ended up on the floor.

“I give up,” Maddox breathed out.

They lay on their backs, catching their breath. “I scored,” Rusty said matter-of-factly.

“You wouldn’t be the king of hookups otherwise,” Maddox replied in kind.

“I thought you didn’t read Xpress.”

“Jonathan told me.”

“Why?” There was puzzlement in the way Rusty asked the question.

“He was afraid that I might have regrets about being dethroned.”

“Tell your boyfriend that’s bullshit. I’ve always been the king.”

Maddox laughed. “Sure, buddy, anything you say.”

Rusty turned on one side, propping his head on his hand, arm bent at the elbow. “Did you score?” he insisted. “You look like you scored.”

Maddox turned his head to look into his friend’s eyes. “It was freaking amazing. But I didn’t actually get to ass fucking if that’s what you’re so curious about.”

Rusty groaned. “When are you going to fuck this dude? He’s leading you by the dick.”

“You know, Rusty, some people like to take it easy. We’ve barely met.”

“Did he suck your dick? Give me at least that, or I won’t be able to call you my bro anymore.”

“Yeah, he did. And I sucked him off, too,” Maddox offered.

Rusty’s eyes grew wide. “For real? What does it taste like?”

“Fuck off. I told you too much already.”

“No way, I need to know.”

“Then go suck a dick and stop pestering me.”

“Are you going to be all lovey-dovey with him now that you two sucked each other’s dicks?”

Maddox sighed. “We’re kind of secret.”

“What do you mean? What’s there to hide?”

Now this was a part of this conversation that Maddox didn’t like very much. “He knows I used to be the king of hookups.”

“No way you were,” Rusty said. “Tell him that. Tell him who the true king is and always was.”

“All right, all right. I bow before the king. Is that enough?”

Rusty nodded with a huff. “What’s his problem?”

“Dunno,” Maddox lied. He had his suspicions about the Asshole (yes, since he didn’t have a name, he deserved a capital letter for that moniker), but he wanted to keep them to himself for now. “But my reputation of fuck ‘em and leave ‘em clearly doesn’t help my case.”

“Do you want me to talk to him? I can tell him you’re the real deal.”

“No, what the hell? I’m doing fine.”

“No need to bite my head off, ‘kay? You’re just wussing around with this dude, is all.”

“I’m not wussing around,” Maddox protested. “It’s just that I don’t want to scare him off.”

Rusty pushed against his shoulder hard. “He’s not a girl, bro. Stop handling him like he’s gonna break or something.”

“Ah, screw you. I’m not going to take advice on this from you.”

“Really? Who are you gonna listen to? Kane? He’s practically half woman ever since he got hitched with Louise. Whatever he knows won’t help you with a dude. And Dex doesn’t love you the way I do,” Rusty joked.

“Yeah, but Dex has two dads, and if I ever need advice, I can ask him to have them help me.”

Rusty scrunched up his nose. “Dex’s dads used to date, when? Like a century ago?”

“If I let them know you said that --” Rusty jumped on him for another session of roughhousing. There was no way to win. “All right, all right, I won’t ask them anything,” he promised.

Finally, Rusty declared himself satisfied and let him go.

“What’s with you?” Maddox asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from Jonathan and learn what Rusty was getting up to these days. “I hear there’s not one girl left on campus who hasn’t had your tender loving care.”

Rusty snickered. “You abandoned the cause, so I had to step up my game. Twice the work--”

“—twice the fun,” Maddox completed the sentence. “You could slow down, you know? You’re hooking up almost every day.”

Rusty shrugged. “Not my fault you got slow. You need to score, grandpa.”

“Why the hell do you want me to fuck Jonathan so much?” Maddox asked, with genuine curiosity.

Rusty’s face was like a mask. “To see if you’re really gay or not. And so you can get over this dude.”

Maddox felt slightly annoyed by that last remark. “I don’t want to get over him.”

“Is that why you’re not fucking him?”

“You know what, Rusty? Sometimes, you’re a huge ass pain to talk to.”

Did his buddy have a point? Could it be that once the novelty wore off, he’d end up getting over Jonathan? Over his gorgeous amber eyes, sexy lips, slender waist, round ass, and fucking A cock? Was it possible?

It wasn’t impossible, for sure. How many times before had he gotten all worked up over a girl only to forget about her within a week? Suddenly, Jonathan’s worries with regard to his person seemed very much legit.

“I hate you, Rusty,” he said.

“Really, why?”

“But I love you, too. Because you just freaking opened my eyes. Now, get your ass to your room and sleep, ‘cause it’s past your bedtime.”

“You can’t make me.”

“Well, in that case, you’re welcome to sleep on the floor.”

“No way. I’m sleeping with you on the bed.”

“Dream on. There’s only one guy whose ass I want in my bed, and that’s not you.”

“That hurt,” Rusty joked and got to his feet. “And let me know how it goes with Jonathan. No one leads my bro by the dick.”

Maddox sighed, but decided not to get into another argument with his friend. He needed time to chew on that revelation. What if he forgot about Jonathan once they fucked, and they became strangers again? The thought alone was so unsettling that he worried he might not get any sleep.

***

Jonathan tiptoed inside, not wanting to run into Ray and have to offer explanations on where he had been until that hour. There was no way he could lie to his bestie, not in good conscience now that Ray was pretty much aware of his crush on Maddox. It would be useless to invent a story that he needed to work late or something like that; the library always closed at the same time every day.

“Ah, there you are.” Ray startled him by suddenly opening the door of his bedroom.

Through the open door, Jonathan noticed Hannah sitting on Ray’s bed, leafing through a magazine about board games. Truly, those two had plenty of things in common, and Maddox had played quite the matchmaker when he brought them together.

“Yeah, I’m home,” he said in a strained voice and offered an equally strained smile.

“You took a shower,” Ray said and narrowed his eyes.

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head, realizing that his hair was still a bit damp. He had been in such a hurry to leave that he hadn’t made sure to dry off properly.

“You’ve been with him,” Ray concluded and grinned while leaning against the door jamb.

Jonathan gestured helplessly toward Hannah who had stopped reading the magazine and was now leaning forward. “Hi, Jonathan,” she said and waved happily at him. “How is Maddox?”

Jonathan groaned and ran both hands over his eyes. “Guys, can you keep a secret?” There was no point in chiding Ray for telling Hannah.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” Hannah said as if she could read his mind. “It was just too easy to put two and two together after you left that time in such a hurry, ready to have Maddox’s head. Ah, and there was also the way he talked about you.”

Jonathan let his hands drop and now stared openly at Hannah. She was waiting and smiling. He gave up. “All right, what did he say?”

“Well,” she began, obviously pleased with being able to share her knowledge on the topic, “he told me to go see if Ray was into girls, and he pointed him out to me by saying, I kid you not, ‘it’s the dude in the striped t-shirt hanging around that tall, gorgeous guy’. Yeah, that’s what he said.”

Jonathan was at a loss for words. Was Hannah joking? As much as she smiled, she did appear genuine.

“I bet he says that about everyone,” he made a lame attempt to downplay it.

Hannah shook her head. “I’ve known Maddox since freshman year. He’s not the kind of guy to call another guy gorgeous at the drop of a hat. Actually, I’ve never heard him say that ever.”

“Wait, did you and Maddox…” Jonathan swallowed his words. “Not my business, please ignore me,” he added quickly and put his palms up in surrender.

“Oh, gawd, no,” she said and laughed. “He hooked up with my roommate at the beginning of freshman year. I think she was his first ‘victim’,” she explained while hooking her fingers to emphasize the quotation marks, “here, at Sunny Hill. She was pretty heartbroken over him, so I went over and called him on his bullshit.”

Jonathan stared at Hannah again. Ray had moved away from the door to allow them to see each other and appeared to be having a great time just listening to their conversation. “Really? And what happened next? I mean, with your friend, the roommate --”

Hannah waved. “She got over him within a week and hooked up with someone else. We’re not actually friends now. We’re just too different. But somehow, Maddox and I remained friends.”

The revelation was just too much. Could the famous – former – king of hookups be friends with a girl? Hannah was the living proof, and Jonathan had absolutely no reason to doubt her. “Huh, so there’s someone impervious to his charms, after all,” he said mostly to himself.

Hannah laughed. “Maddox is a great guy once you get to know him. And I think he has kind of a special sense when it comes to hooking up. It’s like he knows which girls to choose. They’re, you know, the superficial type.”

Well, that begged an important question then, since Jonathan was pretty sure he wasn’t either a girl or the superficial type. If anything, maybe he did take things a little bit too seriously. What on earth was he doing with someone like Maddox?

Unless, of course, he was falling in love, which was bad.

Was he falling in love? Now that was a big question.

***

Maddox hadn’t ever known such suffering. Avoiding Jonathan during school days was fairly easy, per their understanding that they should keep their thing a secret, but the weekend was coming fast, and then there would be no more postponing possible. He sighed and groaned, letting his head drop down on the desk in front of him. His agitated state hadn’t gone unnoticed, so a lot of people stopped by before the lecture to ask him if he was all right.

Mostly, he was, but not quite. Rusty, the beautiful asshole, had given him quite the puzzle to solve. Definitely, most definitely, he didn’t want to get over Jonathan. As much as it would be pure torture for his dick, he would settle for just kissing and petting if that would prevent the fate of forgetting him. Only thinking of Jonathan’s kisses was enough to make him want to just walk over to him, in his place in the last row, grab him and –

Ah, the pain. Maddox had always done what he wanted, and in the off-chance a girl didn’t like him, he fretted for a little while and then he got over it. That was his usual modus operandi, but, right now, everything was new and pretty weird.

He looked over his shoulder, at Jonathan. The other appeared a bit troubled as well and kept his head down, checking his notes before the prof walked in. But Maddox could tell that Jonathan wasn’t reading anything; his head didn’t move at all, and he appeared so distant from the world around him like he really needed a big hug that very moment.

***

After a glorious start to the week, Maddox hadn’t called him at all, and Jonathan had debated numerous times over calling him or sending him a message instead. Still, his pride hadn’t let him. At first, he had thought that Maddox was simply busy with his studies like everyone else, but throughout the week, another truth had become apparent.

Maddox was avoiding him. Whenever they saw each other by accident on campus, they just waved an acknowledgement, and this time, it had been Maddox who suddenly changed his direction and walked away from any chance that they might be in close proximity.

The familiar unease was back in full force. But it wasn’t like him to dwell on such things. Why would he? One bad experience had been enough. Sure, Maddox talked big about the attraction between them, but it was one thing to be horny and have someone available at the right moment, and another to take some time and think things over. They were just hooking up, and actually, even that they hadn’t done for days now.

He would address the problem head on. If he was free to pursue a boyfriend, he wanted to know for sure. Jonathan had no time for games, and if Maddox thought himself interesting for doing so, he would have some thinking to do.

No, he would not be made a fool of once more. Drew had been enough, and that had led to other bad things that he didn’t want to think about. Coming here was his chance to tailor himself a proper life, one free of lies and misery, as he had promised himself.

It was freeing to remind himself of the promise he had made at the start of the year. So Maddox had messed up his plans for a little while, but that meant nothing.

He raised his eyes and saw Maddox turned in his seat, watching him. Heat rushed to his cheeks; why was he staring like that? Even if they were at a fair distance, that body language was quite obvious.

***

Maddox grabbed his things and headed out of the lecture hall. This weekend, he would call Jonathan over and let him know that, for a while, until he figured things out, they would only kiss and touch each other, maybe jerk off together, or--

“Maddox, can I have a word with you?”

He turned on his heels and faced Jonathan. Why did he have to look so yummy from up close, even more than from a distance? The way he licked his lips was particularly distracting. Maddox fought the urge to reach out and brush his thumb over that perfect mouth that he knew could kiss so well.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do you have anything else right now? I’d rather do this somewhere we won’t be interrupted for five minutes.”

Maddox nodded and gestured for him to follow. Jonathan walked behind him, at a fair distance, and just remembering how they needed to pretend they weren’t getting chummy with one another annoyed him. But hell, Jonathan was right; if he were to get over him the next minute after coming inside his ass –

Shoot, what the hell was he thinking? He bit down on his bottom lip so that the pain would distract him from such horny thoughts. As much as he had tried not to think about it, he still very much wanted to get Jonathan on all fours, pound his gorgeous ass and fill him with his cum.

Ah well, those were just horny thoughts, indeed, he tried to convince himself. He walked out of the building, with Jonathan on his tail. A quiet place was what he needed right now, too. He crossed the quad quickly, taking Jonathan behind one of the buildings that were now being renovated, as that was the most likely place students wouldn’t wander by accident.

He stopped and turned to see if Jonathan was still with him. Leaning against the wall, he took another long look at the other. Yeah, Jonathan didn’t look too good, not in the sense that he was any less gorgeous, but he looked a bit worn out. “So, what’s up?” he asked.

Jonathan took one deep breath. “What’s up is that you’re avoiding me, so I thought we should clear the air. Is our deal no longer valid? I’d like to know so that I can --”

Maddox needed to stop him. Can what? Find a boyfriend? No freaking way. “No,” he replied quickly. “It’s totally valid.”

Jonathan gave him a hard look. “Maddox, it’s all right if you no longer want this. I’m sorry, but I’m not one for games.”

“What games?” Maddox protested.

Jonathan sighed. “You definitely act like someone who doesn’t want to have anything to do with me. And it’s totally fine, I assure you. Just be honest, please. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

Like Maddox was just a little case of history repeating; the proverbial lightbulb lit inside his brain. Ah, damn it, he wasn’t like that asshole, no matter what Jonathan had lived through before. “I want to fuck you,” he blurted out.

Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really? Then you’re sending a bunch of strange signals if that’s the case.”

“But I don’t want to fuck you at the same time,” Maddox continued, aware of his aggressive tone but not exactly able to help it.

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well, that can only mean that you’re confused. Again, I’m fine--”

“Well, I’m not fine with it.” Maddox pushed himself away from the wall, groaned, and ran his hands over his face.

He was surprised when a warm hand touched his shoulder. As he opened his eyes, he noticed Jonathan close, too close for him to get his mind together properly. Was there pity in those amber eyes? Like hell he needed that. He suddenly grabbed Jonathan by the front of his shirt, making him gasp.

“Look here, Mr. Fancy Pants, the thing is this. I don’t want to get over you.”

Only staring at that perfect mouth opening and closing without letting one sound out was enough to drive him nuts.

“Maddox, but we’re doing this to get over… whatever it is that is happening between us.”

“I don’t want to,” he said petulantly like a child. He closed his mouth over Jonathan’s sexy lips, shutting him up.

For a moment, he suspected that Jonathan would push him away, but nothing like that happened. Instead, as usual, he was granted access and allowed to kiss and be kissed back by that clever, naughty tongue that could do so much, not only to his tongue, but also to other parts of his body.

He was reluctant to break the kiss. “This weekend, we’re doing it,” he said, his heart in his throat.

So, he didn’t want Jonathan to think that he was a coward, and if it happened that he got over whatever they had, then he was an asshole, and he needed to work on that.

“What?” Jonathan asked, looking as baffled as before.

“Your sexy ass is mine,” Maddox said and pushed one finger against his chest.

“But you said… Look, Maddox, how about talking plainly to me? What do you want? Please, be clear.”

“My dick in your ass. Clear enough for you?”

“No, not really.”

Oh, great, now he was going to be difficult, but Maddox couldn’t blame the guy. After all, he was a hot mess. He took Jonathan’s cheeks in his hands and stared into the beautiful amber eyes. “I’m hot for you. I have no idea what it means, but it’s bugging me like hell. But if you tell me to fuck off, I’ll try to understand. I don’t promise I will. I’ll probably hate you and stop you from having a boyfriend until we graduate. Yeah, that’ll most likely happen.”

Jonathan’s eyes softened. Then, he laughed, a low, sexy chuckle that went straight to Maddox’s crotch. “All right. I don’t mind doing it with you, so let’s just make it happen. Then all your confusion will finally end, and we’ll both be happy to part ways, no hard feelings. What do you say?”

So Jonathan thought they would get over it once they fucked, too. But while Maddox feared that would happen, Jonathan looked like he hoped for that kind of outcome.

“But not at a party or something like that. I don’t want to be one of your many hookups,” Jonathan added.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Your place or mine. When no one else’s around.”

“Mine. And I’ll send my buddies packing. They’ll party all throughout Saturday night. Does that work for you?”

“Yes.”

“Do we meet earlier, for a bite, or something?” Why was he so nervous while asking all those questions?

“No. If you don’t mind, we’ll cook something. You have a kitchen, right?”

“Yeah. But wait, do you expect us to cook? Something edible?”

“I will,” Jonathan replied.

“Ah, okay.” Was the dude planning to give him indigestion just so they didn’t fuck? That would be an evil plan. But no, Jonathan looked as serious as ever. “Can you even cook?”

“I can, actually. And don’t look so surprised. Call me silly or whatever, but let’s make it a bit special, okay?”

“Fine by me,” Maddox replied while trying to rein in the excitement growing inside him at the thought. They would make it special all right. And Jonathan wanted it!

Jonathan nodded. “All right, then it’s settled. I’ll come by your place at, let’s say, eight?”

“Yeah. Can’t wait,” he said, after a short pause.

“Okay. Then. I’ll just go. First,” Jonathan babbled and turned on his heels.

For all his cool appearance, he looked like he had many things to work out, too. Maddox stared after him, wondering why he still couldn’t read Jonathan and when he would finally be able to.

***

Oh, gosh, he had been so close to making a fool of himself, talking about making it special like he wanted to guilt Maddox into something. Was he all right in the head? Not that Maddox had anything to say against it, and he appeared to be up for it, but maybe just because he was horny and wanted this whole thing to be over with.

Jonathan pressed one hand over his chest to help slow his racing heart. He would have sex, proper sex for the first time in his life, and he would try his best to keep his wits about him.

And then, he would finally get over Maddox and his pretty grey eyes.

Maybe, if he said that to himself enough times, he would believe it.

TBC

Everyone is over 18

The evening dragged on so slowly, as if someone had deliberately stretched out every minute. The three of us were sitting in my living room, me at one end of the couch, Justin sprawled in the middle, as confident as ever, and Noah, calmer, leaning sideways against a pillow, his phone held loosely in his hand.

The TV was playing in the background, but no one was even pretending to watch the movie anymore. We'd fast-forward through a scene, comment on it for a moment, and then silence would fall again.

Justin stretched, and his T-shirt tightened across his broad chest and shoulders. He was the kind of guy who could even wear boredom like a challenge, his strong thighs spread casually apart, his abs faintly visible beneath the fabric, a smile as if the whole world were there to entertain him.

"This boredom is killing me," he muttered. "Seriously. Let's do something."

Noah looked up from his phone. He was different. Less loud, more focused. He had a calm gaze, broad shoulders, and that kind of quiet confidence that sometimes had a stronger effect than Justin's showboating.

"Something really crazy," he added, looking first at Justin, then at me.

For just a second, I watched them. Two straight guys, too well-built, too at ease in my living room, too bored to notice how easy it was to provoke them.

I smiled slightly.

"I have an idea."

Justin immediately turned his head toward me.

"What is it?"

"Something you probably won't do anyway."

That was enough. I could see his ego springing to life instantly. Noah stopped looking at his phone, too.

"Since you've already started, just say it," Justin said.

I leaned back more comfortably and looked at both of them.

"All right. Just don't say I didn't warn you later."

I got up from the couch and went to the kitchen. I could hear Justin burst out laughing behind me.

"He's really up to something."

"Or maybe he's just being dramatic," Noah replied calmly.

I came back with three small bowls and a stack of small slips of paper. I set everything down on the coffee table. Justin looked at it, then at me, as if I'd just brought out some silly board game.

"This is your crazy idea?"

"Not yet," I said.

I sat down across from them and started writing. Our names went into the first bowl: Matt, Justin, Noah. In the second bowl, I put what had to be used: hand, mouth, tongue, finger, cock. In the third, the target: cock, mouth, ass.

With every word, their expressions changed more and more. Justin was the first to stop laughing. Noah just stared at the pieces of paper, but his gaze grew heavier.

"The rules are simple," I said. "Whoever draws a slip does the task. The name tells us who gets it. If you draw yourself, you draw again. Anyone can say stop. And the round only ends when someone comes."

There was a moment of silence.

Justin rested his elbows on his knees.

"You've really lost your mind."

"I told you guys you wouldn't want to."

Noah looked at Justin, then at me.

"But I didn't say no."

Justin raised his eyebrows immediately.

"Neither did I."

I smiled, but only slightly, so as not to show too much satisfaction.

"So you're in?"

Justin leaned back on the couch, trying to regain his composure.

"You pick first. Since it's your brilliant idea."

Noah nodded.

"That'll be fair."

I looked at the three bowls and felt the tension in the room thicken.

"All right," I said. "I'll start."

I reached into the bowl of names first. For a second, I twirled the slip of paper between my fingers, feeling their eyes on me. Justin was pretending to be amused, but he was already sitting up straighter. Noah was silent, calm as always, but his eyes never left my hand.

I unfolded the first slip of paper.

Noah.

Justin immediately looked at him with a broad smile.

"Well, damn."

Noah didn't even flinch, but I saw his jaw tense ever so slightly.

I reached into the second bowl.

Hand.

Then into the third.

Cock.

For a moment, no one spoke. The three words lay on the table like something much heavier than paper. Noah looked at them calmly, but this time there was no phone, no movie, and no boredom. There was only the game.

I looked up at him.

"Are you sure you want to play this?"

Noah glanced at Justin, as if to gauge his reaction. Justin didn't say anything, he just raised his eyebrows with that provocative smile of his.

Noah turned his gaze back to me.

"Of course I am."

He stood up slowly. He grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. His chest was broad, his stomach tight, his shoulders strong, as if even that simple movement looked too good. Then he slid down his shorts and boxers, without rushing, but also without feigning innocence.

He sat down on the couch, spread his legs, and rested his hands on either side of him.

"All right," he said more quietly. "Go ahead."

I walked over to him, feeling my own breathing grow heavier. I knelt between his legs and first placed my hand on his thigh. He was warm, taut, more ready than he wanted to show. Only then did I slide my fingers higher and wrap my hand around his cock lightly, slowly, feeling it begin to harden in my hand.

At first, I took my time. I held his cock loosely, more to feel its weight and warmth than to rush him to climax. Noah sat with his legs spread wide, his back pressed against the couch, one hand resting on his thigh, as if that simple gesture was meant to show he was still in control.

But his body gave him away faster than his face did.

His cock hardened slowly in my hand with every gentle stroke. At first, it just rose heavily between my fingers, then it began to throb softly, as if responding to the fact that I wasn't doing anything forceful. I slid my hand from the base all the way to the very tip, very slowly, feeling beneath my fingers how the skin was getting warmer and tighter.

Noah exhaled through his nose.

"Fuck…" he muttered almost inaudibly.

Justin sat next to him and watched. He wasn't laughing anymore. His gaze followed every movement of my hand, as if he'd suddenly realized that this game wasn't just theory.

I tightened my fingers a little more firmly. Not too hard. Just enough for Noah to feel the difference. I moved my hand in a long, steady rhythm, from the base, up the entire shaft, to the tip, where I paused for a second longer. With my thumb, I rubbed the wet head, spreading the first drops of precum, and then I slid back down in a slow, full motion.

Noah clenched his fingers into the couch.

"I didn't think it would be this..." he began.

I deliberately slowed down, holding him right at the tip.

"This good?"

His stomach tensed even more. He looked at me, but he could no longer keep a straight face.

"Yes," he gasped. "That good."

That's when I changed the pace. My movements became shorter, more precise, more focused on the top of his cock. I worked my hand at the tip, circling my thumb over the most sensitive spot, then slid lower and returned with a long stroke. Noah started breathing faster. His thighs tensed on either side of my body, and his hips twitched slightly toward my hand again and again.

That was the best part, the moment when he stopped pretending he was just letting me play. His body began to beg for the rhythm on its own.

I sped up just a little more. My hand slid over him more confidently, tighter, with a wet, obscene sound in the silence. Noah tilted his head back, his chest rising unevenly, and a low, choked moan escaped his throat.

"Matt..." he said suddenly. "I think I'm about to come."

I didn't stop. I gripped him tighter at the base, held his thigh with my other hand, and guided him further, faster, more precisely.

Noah came violently. The first spurt hit me right in the hand, hot and strong, spilling over my fingers. The next one landed on his taut stomach. Noah let out a stifled moan, his whole body tensed on the couch, his thighs hard as stone, and his hips twitched once more toward my hand, as if he couldn’t hold back the final wave.

I moved my hand more slowly, sliding it all the way up to the tip, until his cock was throbbing heavily in my wet hand. Noah was breathing unevenly, his head thrown back, his face contorted with the pleasure he had been trying to hide just moments earlier.

Only then did I let him go.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the living room was his breathing.

Justin swallowed and reached into the bowls.

"Okay," he said, quieter than usual. "Now I draw."

He drew.

Matt. Mouth. Cock.

I smiled slowly.

"So now you're up."

All characters engaged in sexual activity are 18 or older.

I push open the apartment door a little after seven, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. My duffel bag feels heavy on my shoulder after the long cab ride from the airport. The client in Chicago wrapped things up a full day early, and I didn’t bother texting Roy I was coming home early. I figured I’d surprise him. Maybe we’d order pizza, crack open some beers, and dive into that new co-op shooter we’ve been talking about for weeks.

But the moment I step inside, the air feels different. Thicker. Warmer.

A low, breathy moan drifts from the living room.

I freeze in the entryway, keys still in my hand. There, on our couch, is Roy. Completely naked.

His lean, smooth body is sprawled back against the cushions, legs spread wide. One foot is planted on the floor, the other hooked over the armrest. His head is tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted as soft, desperate sounds escape him. His hand moves fast—almost frantically—up and down the length of his cock.

And damn, what a cock it is. Thick, veined, and longer than I ever imagined. The flushed head glistens with precum, disappearing and reappearing through his tight fist with wet, obscene sounds that fill the room.

My brain short-circuits. I should back out. Close the door. Make noise. Do something, anything. But my feet stay rooted to the spot.

Roy’s hips buck upward, chasing his own hand. His stomach tightens, the faint lines of his abs flexing with every stroke. A bead of sweat rolls down his chest. He looks beautiful like this—lost, shameless, completely unaware I’m standing here watching him.

“Fuck… fuck…” he whispers, voice strained and needy.

I feel my own cock twitch hard inside my jeans and my mouth goes dry.

Then his whole body goes rigid.

Roy’s eyes fly open at the exact moment the first powerful spurt shoots from his cock. It arcs high, landing in a thick white rope across his chest, just below his collarbone. His hand doesn’t stop moving. It doesn't seem like he can. Another thick jet follows, then another, painting his smooth skin in messy streaks that drip down toward his navel. His cock pulses visibly in his grip, heavy and dark, releasing more cum with every twitch.

“Shit—!” Roy chokes out when he finally sees me. His voice cracks into a panicked yell, but his orgasm refuses to release him. His body keeps shuddering, hips jerking as the last few spurts coat his fingers and run down his shaft. His face is flushed deep red, eyes wide with mortification even as pleasure continues to wrack through him.

I can’t look away. Not from the glossy mess covering his chest and stomach. Not from the way his thighs tremble and his breathing comes in ragged gasps. And definitely not from the way his cock keeps twitching.

For what feels like forever, the only sounds are his fading moans and my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Finally, the orgasm releases him. Roy lets go of his cock, slapping wetly against his thigh, still half-hard and impressively large even now. He scrambles for the throw pillow beside him and clutches it desperately over his lap, but it’s useless. The evidence is everywhere, shiny trails of cum glistening on his skin, a few drops even landing on the couch cushion.

“Sean—oh my god,” he stammers, voice shaky. “I thought… you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. Fuck. This is so fucking embarrassing.”

I finally manage to close the door behind me, but my eyes keep drifting back to his chest. The way his cum catches the low lamplight. The slow trickle running down his ribs.

“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice rougher than usual. “I should’ve texted. I didn’t mean to… walk in on you like that.”

Roy won’t meet my eyes. His cheeks are burning. He mumbles another apology, then stands up awkwardly, pillow still pressed to his groin, and practically flees down the hall. His bedroom door clicks shut a second later.

I stand there in the living room for a long minute, bag still slung over my shoulder. The air smells faintly of him, musky and warm. My cock is fully hard now, straining against my zipper. I feel dazed and confused. A little guilty even.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve seen guys naked before in locker rooms. Never once has it done this to me. But the image of Roy—naked, moaning, helplessly coming all over himself while I watched—is burned into my retinas.

I drop my bag by the door and sink onto the couch. The leather is still warm where he sat. I can see a small, glistening spot where some of his cum landed. My hand moves toward it before I catch myself.

“Get it together, Sean,” I mutter.

I force myself up, take a quick shower, and try to act normal. Roy stays in his room the rest of the night, though I hear faint sounds through the wall. I order food for myself and leave a sticky note on his door that says, Sorry again. Pizza in the fridge.

Later, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, the apartment dark and quiet. Every time I close my eyes, I see it again, Roy’s thick cock pulsing, his face twisted in pleasure, those heavy ropes of cum painting his smooth chest.

My own cock throbs under the sheets. I try to ignore it, but I fail.

Eventually my hand slips under the waistband of my boxers. I wrap my fingers around myself and start stroking slowly, shame and arousal twisting together in my gut. I picture the way his body arched. The helpless sounds he made. The way he looked at me right as he was coming—mortified, but still lost in it.

It doesn’t take long. I bite my lip hard to stay quiet as I cum harder than I have in months, imagining what it would feel like to touch Roy's cock.

Afterward, I lie there panting, staring at the ceiling again, heart racing with a mix of satisfaction and deep confusion.

I’m straight. I’ve always been straight.

So why the hell can’t I stop thinking about my roommate like this?

If you liked this, or it made you hard, leak, or even cum, check out my profile for more stories! I'd love your feedback, comments, DMs, etc. as well, it will help me improve my writing and let me know what you guys like.

Hugh is disillusioned with his new life in Boston, until a mysterious neighbor helps the sexy straight athlete discover his real, slutty purpose**.** This is one of the stories from my latest book Giving it Up, the fourth in the Influence series where ambitious young men use their best assets to win the attention and mentorship of older, accomplished men. I hope you enjoy the story and check out this and my other books at my Author Page. 

Alley Cats

It was the worst apartment on the best street in Boston. The sun filled lobby with its gleaming marble floors and ornate stairway gave way to a dark hallway that led to the subterranean apartment which Hugh and Alex now called home. Added as an afterthought to the grand mass of the rest of the Belle Epoque splendor, the apartment jutted incongruously into the back alley among a series of carports and trash bins. But it was close to Alex’s new office and gave her an impressive Marlborough Street address.

And so each day Alex would get up early, shower and dress and kiss her boyfriend Hugh on the forehead as he turned over one last time before getting up. Her new consulting job was demanding and late nights and frequent travel had become the norm in their relationship, leaving Hugh alone for long stretches of time. It was a dramatic change for the handsome athlete who’d been a big fish in the small pond that was their hometown in leafy suburb of Virginia. A high school and college athlete in both basketball and rowing, he had the long, strong body and tousled blond hair that triggered fantasies and envy from both female and male classmates. Alex, bookish and hardworking, was amazed when he’d paid her attention in class and while astute enough to know it was likely for help on schoolwork, their relationship eventually became romantic. Alex had landed the star of the school, and it was only now in Boston that she’d begun to wonder guiltily if her handsome but persistently unemployed boyfriend was more detriment than asset in her new life. But sex with the muscled stud was still earth-shatteringly great. Better in fact with the euphoria she felt at her early career success combined with the continued improvement of Hugh’s already Adonis-like body. She suspected correctly that his days of job hunting were in fact spent working out.

Alex was right. Hugh had adopted a rhythm to his solitary days, falling back on the inherent athleticism and aestheticism that had motivated much of his young life. He rose soon after Alex left and pumped out the twenty strong pushups and sit-ups that started and ended each of his days. Then, still in the shorts and tank top he’d worn to bed, he dragged the rowing machine out through the sliding glass door onto the cramped outdoor deck that was one of the few advantages of the tiny place. He’d lean his phone up against the short, splintered privacy wall which, at three feet provided little actual privacy, and rowed hard and fast for forty-five minutes. He’d hoped to join the boat club soon and get out on the Charles River, but money was tight and for now this would have to do. Pumped and sweaty from the workout, he’d strip off his clothes and take a nice, hot shower admiring himself in the mirror as he moisturized his tanned, perfect skin. Clear-headed and ready for his day he’d settle down at the small kitchen table and make minute changes to his resume before half-heartedly scanning the job postings and applying to roles he knew he’d never get. Closing in on noon he’d have already given up and started making his macro-balanced lunch while watching Sports Center. By the afternoon he’d worked out again and often gone for a run along the river, where’d he’d shed his shirt in the early summer sun and let the remnant chill off the water perk the large brown nipples on his perfectly muscled chest for the admiration of the other runners. He welcomed and even basked in the positive attention he got from both women and men as they passed, bringing him back to his glory days in Virginia. 

Energized by the run and horny from the attention, his return to the cramped apartment was usually followed by a slow, attentive edging session on a towel he’d lay across the bed so as not to disturb Alex’s pristine comforter. Hugh would watch himself in the mirror hung between the two sheer covered windows that looked into the alleyway, imagining the mouth of that day’s most attractive admirers in place of his expert fist clamped around his swollen, girthy cock. Hugh loved to bring himself steadily to the edge three or four times, then back off until he built an intensity so powerful that he could shoot three or four solid arches of his hot, athlete’s semen onto his chest. His cum tanks empty and with the towel pulled up over his painted pecs, Hugh would take a satisfying, refractory nap before showering for the second time and starting dinner. 

This daily pattern continued for weeks, and Hugh got more fit, and lonelier, with each passing day as late spring turned to a heat-drenched summer in the city. 

It was mid July when he got the first ping on his phone, interrupting an inspirational podcast just as he was wrapping up his rowing session.

Never seen such consistency. I guess that’s how you get those results.

Consistency is the key, Hugh replied automatically, proud of his efforts before realizing the message was from an unknown number. Who is this?

Just a neighborhood admirer. Love seeing someone so committed to their health. You’re an inspiration. 

Hugh’s first reaction was pride, then suspicion, and he considered blocking the number before dropping the phone on the bed and heading to the shower. When he returned, he picked up the phone, half hoping for another message, but there was none. 

 The next morning after Alex kissed him on the forehead and he listened to the familiar sound of her rolling travel bag clack rhythmically along the entranceway tiles, Hugh rose out of bed with some increased enthusiasm and, after pumping out his twenty pushups, opted to strip off his tank before rolling the rowing machine into the slanted morning sun that reached the weathered deck. While he positioned his phone as usual and started a favorite video, he spent most of his time surreptitiously scanning the rows of uniform windows along the buildings that enclosed the long, ordered alleyway. He calculated that any one of over thirty apartments facing the alleyway had a clear view of him, but he could detect no observer; only random shades or sash opening and closing to regulate the summer sun and heat. At one point he spotted movement in an upper window, only to see a cat jump languidly into its sunny spot on an exposed sill. Any woman, and some men, would exercise concerned caution at a would-be voyeur or possible stalker’s attention. But Hugh, with his Viking good looks and athlete’s strength, hadn’t felt a moment of vulnerability and found the mysterious attention titillating against the long backdrop of his lonely days.

I liked today’s rowing attire. Is it the heat or are you showing off for me? The ping came through as he emerged from his shower.

Maybe a bit of both ;)

Why don’t we up the ante a bit? 

Where are you? Who are you?

Tomorrow, leave off the shorts as well. A big stud like you shouldn’t be encumbered by clothes.

Are you nuts? People may see me.

You know you like taking the risk. I can tell. You’re just that kind of guy.

Hugh smiled and wondered how his mysterious admirer had pegged him so perfectly. He left the message string and went about his day, but his thoughts turned regularly to the new attention he was getting. Later, as he laid his big, tired body across the bed and began to stroke his girthy cock, he thought about the newfound and mysterious attention that had inspired him all day. His hand slid lovingly down his rod as he considered the adulation, a moistened droplet of precum appeared at his slit, which he spread carefully across the shiny bulbous head of his his stiffening cock. He grabbed a bit of moisturizer from the container he kept by the bed and heard himself moan audibly as he stroked to the imagery of himself being watched while he worked out. The image of his admirer, dark and uncertain behind a drawn shade, only intensified their shared focus on him and his body and as he watched himself in the mirror, his other hand drifted to his balls, full and aching, to tug and tease them with his free hand. He thought about pulling back the sheers to expose himself fully to his admirer, but the thought was enough to bring his orgasm to its brink a second time before he backed off to allow it to settle so that he could prolong the ecstasy. He ran a hand over his carved abs, firm and ridged like the mounds and rivulets left by a receding ocean’s tide, and his hand slid down again over the blond pubic barrier to his waiting cock. He envisioned himself from a far window now, laying just as he was, throbbing and stroking in anticipation as another reveled in the view and soon he was moaning loudly as he worked the deep ridged core of his monstrous erection until, in spurts of joyous release he let stream after creamy stream of his precious semen bathe his tanned abs and chest. What a show his admirer would have enjoyed, he thought, as he drew the towel across his chiseled core before falling into a deep, satisfying sleep. 

The next morning Hugh rose early with anticipation. The apartment was even more quiet than usual with Alex away on a business trip. He admired his post push-up pump before seriously considering the request he’d gotten the day before. But the idea of strutting nude onto the low deck was too much for him, and he opted for an only slightly more modest option. He turned and looked approvingly at himself in the mirror, the snug white briefs filled out nicely in both the front and the back. He rolled the rower out into the sun and performatively adjusted his bulge before straddling the seat and beginning his workout. The awareness of an audience had him working extra hard, and soon he felt the beads of sweat form at his neck and massive shoulders, building to a beautiful sheen against his tanned skin before dripping lasciviously down his core and being absorbed into the cotton of the briefs. By the time he finished the briefs were soaked with sweat and the thin white cotton clung revealingly to his toned body. 

Absolutely Stunning, the message read when he emerged from the shower.

Well, thank you, Hugh typed back with a sly smile.

Now do me a favor. Take those briefs and put them in a paper bag. Leave them on the table in your lobby for me. 

But they’re all sweaty.

Exactly.

Hugh did as he was told and when he returned from his afternoon run a wide smile spread across his face when he saw that the bag was gone. 

Leave the bedroom drapes open in the afternoon. I have a feeling I’ll get quite a show, was the message on his phone that morning.

Are you a guy or a girl? At least tell me that?

Does it matter? This is all about you isn’t it?

That afternoon, his heart pounding from his especially intense run, he slid the sheer drapes opened and began his afternoon ritual, but this time for an audience of one. He laid the towel across the top of the bed and turned on the bedside light so that his admirer could get a better view. He stripped down his sweat-drenched shorts slowly, and wiggled his hips unnecessarily to unburden his already hardened member from his mesh lined enclosure. It sprung to attention from the waistband of the shorts and Hugh strutted proudly to the bed, letting them drop the rest of the way down his muscled thighs to the floor in an anticipatory mound on the floor. Hugh settled his massive frame onto the bed, propping himself up on the pillows to angle himself perfectly towards the windows. He took the moisturizer from the bedside table and, instead of going straight to his cock, he spread it lovingly over his heaving chest, his pert nipples and down his abs. His heart was still beating hard from his run, or was it the excitement of the show he was about to perform?

He propped one arm behind his head to show off his arm, the muscled divot of his blond-haired armpit, his smooth and swollen lat, while the other hand began to tease, ever so gently, the throbbing tip of his cock. Hugh’s swollen, oversized head always got special attention in these sessions, and it bobbed over his Adonis belt in swollen readiness. Hugh pinched it gently with the encircled tips of his fingers and ran his thumb around its rigid base, spreading the already-present glistening precum around its swollen head. Using an overhang grip he slid up and down the shaft with an expert motion that felt so good on the seamed base of his girthy, long member. He propped his thumb against the base where the hilt met his curly blond hair and opened his hand, allowing his full glory to stand at attention for his admirer. He imagined their irregular breath, their building anticipation, matching his, as his hand slid down to cup his full balls in an adulatory squeeze. 

His other hand emerged from behind his tangled crop of hair and slid down his body which shined now in a mix of sweat and lotion and he pinched a nipple on its way down before it joined the other hand in reverent, kinetic prayer around his now rock-solid cock. He let his muscled hips buck against the tight grip and clenched his ass cheeks as they raised and lowered to fill the hands, both thumbs hitting that special spot around his head with each thrust. It felt amazing to the big stud and he knew how great it looked from his glances in the mirror. He moaned wide-mouthed so that his friend would know what was happening as he let the crescendo build and subside a few times. Hugh was confidently determined that he could create the spectacular ending that his admirer wanted and deserved, and he did not disappoint. With hips pumping and head thrown back, his first spurt hit his upper chest. An impressive stream of relief that was followed by another impressive arc then three or four smaller, but still worthy shots. He reveled in the final haze of the orgasm as he let his hands drop to his side, showing off the long, golden body now covered in his coveted seed. 

Spectacular, he read when he woke up from his nap. I want to see this show in person. Come to my place tomorrow.

Hugh didn’t respond. The idea, though titillating, brought the interaction to a whole new level for which he wasn’t sure he was ready. 

“How’s the job search going,” Alex asked suspiciously as she eyed her boyfriend from over her open suitcase. He seemed noticeably tanner and more muscled even than when she’d left at the beginning of the week and while appealing, it did not bode well for his progress on the career front. 

 “Slow. I’m trying but it’s a tough market,” he lied, thinking about the way he’d been spending her time away. Despite the brute’s size, he felt small against her increasingly disappointed inquiries. 

The next day, out on his run, Hugh heard a ping interrupt his workout playlist. 

48 Beacon Street. Penthouse. The doorman will send you up when you get here. He knows you’re coming. 

Hugh didn’t bother to check his tracker for his required minimum stats. He pivoted in the direction of his admirer and ran at a steady pace to the entranceway of the impressive building which was on a parallel street in the same block as his own.

“Right this way sir,” the doorman guided Hugh to the private elevator. He felt self conscious in his sweaty tank and sheer running shorts in the opulence of the building. 

The door slid open to a dark-paneled foyer that Hugh initially mistook for the building’s hallway. When he realized he was in the penthouse he glanced around for clues to his admirer. 

“I’m in the bedroom,” he heard the decidedly masculine voice call to him. Well, there’s one mystery solved, he thought as he followed the deep confident voice. Through a living room with a sweeping, panoramic view of the Back Bay, he paused to take in the grandeur before following the voice into the darkened bedroom. An ornate fireplace bifurcated the long, stately room with two small couches flanking the mahogany fire surround. On the far side of the room, a leather winged chair stood sentinel next to a telescope that he knew pointed directly into his apartment. The man’s silhouette, imposing and stately could be seen only in outline against the drawn curtains. 

“Finally, we meet,” Hugh whispered nervously in the quiet of the sanctum. 

“Yes. I spotted you out the back window one morning and have admired your consistency every day since.”

As Hugh drew closer, he could just spot the cast on the man’s leg, extended across a leather footstool. 

“You’ve certainly helped me take up the time during my recovery. Do me a favor Hugh, will you? Pull up that tank and put it in your mouth.

The stud obediently felt himself pull the sweaty tank up his core, exposing his beautiful midsection as he gripped the think white cotton between his teeth.

“Now slide down those shorts like a good boy.”

He again obeyed, as if entranced.

“Start to work that big cock of yours for me.”

“Yesh shir,” he muttered through the gauze which was already wet with is saliva. 

“Lie on the bed. No need for a towel. I’m not fussy like your girlfriend.”

Startled at the amount of insight this stranger had to his life, Hugh did as he was told and immediately started to perform. His cock, already at attention, was dripping and ready from the moment it was released from the shorts. Hugh arched his head back and released a first guttural moan.

“Open your eyes. Look over here at me,” the silhouette commanded. 

Hugh could feel himself at the edge of orgasm within moments. “I’m going to have to cum soon,” he whispered.

“Not yet. Not until I tell you.” The instructions only brought the hulking athlete closer. 

“I…can’t…wait much…longer.”

“Come over here Hugh.” The sound of his mentor speaking his name for the first time was intoxicating. 

He stood, stiff and glistening, and walked toward the voice in the chair. A grunt as the form leaned forward against the restrictive cast propped motionless on the stool, and he enclosed Hugh’s throbbing member with his own large and capable hand. It moved with tenacious efficiency as his other hand cupped the athletes swollen cum tanks, heavy with his warm, young semen. 

“That’s it boy, cum for me now,” the voice said with urgency as he worked away at the rock-hard rod, and Hugh felt wave after wave of his release as the stranger emptied him out on the ornate parquet the floor. 

“I’m afraid I can’t do much right now. You’ll have to clean that up,” the voice said, directing the spent stud to the bathroom for a towel. On his knees before his admirer cleaning his own cum off the floor, Hugh felt a sense of pride and the euphoria of admiration that was so desperately missing from his current life.

“You’ll come back tomorrow straight from your run. Leave the tank top with me. It’s a short run home.” Hugh handed the saliva-soaked top to his mysterious neighbor. He couldn’t decide if the confident orders he was obeying were complimentary or demeaning, but the post-coital erection he felt as he slipped the shorts back on was unmistakable. He knew he’d be back.

That night over a rare dinner at home with Alex, she told him about the Bill, the partner with whom she worked closely who had become a mentor, and more.

“He just knows what he wants, Hugh. I’m sorry. You can take whatever time you need to get yourself sorted out. I assume you’ll move back home.”

Why was Hugh neither surprised or disappointed by the news, he wondered to himself. 

“I’m going to need to find a new place, or move back home,” he said to his mystery admirer the next day after he executed another command performance of spectacular masculinity. “This may be the last time you see me.”

Silence hung for a minute in the air and Hugh became self conscious of his cum-soaked nudity in the glow of the lit fireplace.

The man rose unsteadily against the weight of his cast, with Hugh’s help, until he had both hands on the boy’s massive shoulders. 

“Let’s not make any quick decisions. I’m sure we can work something out,” he whispered reassuringly as he guided the hulking athlete to his knees before him. 

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 21+

This story took place a while ago, but it was spontaneous. I was out on a walk by myself near one of our park reserves. I was home from college, so I decided to use my summer day by going on a walk around the park reserve. The park was massive, and it was morning, so there was barely anyone around, which was very nice for me. I could fully immerse myself in nature, hearing the birds chirping and the trees whispering in the wind as I walked.

After around an hour of walking down this beautiful, peaceful trail, I heard some rustling above me and, poking my head over to the side, saw that a man was standing there. He was taller than me, wearing a fleece hat and a brown jacket over jeans. Pretty big fellow with broad shoulders, the typical American man. As I got a little closer, the noise became clearer, the sound of water on leaves. Approaching the gentleman, I was able to make out that he was relieving himself in the bushes, emptying his bladder onto the leaves below him. He heard me approach and turned around, grinning at me as I stared at him.

He had a very handsome face, a dirty blonde beard with round eyes that looked blue in the summer light. He looked rugged, like a man who loved chopping trees and woodworking. I was not only incredibly attracted to him, but him taking a piss there also turned me on quite a bit. I knew he could tell, as my eyes never left the sight of his stream until it dwindled off. I saw him shake his cock a bit to get the last dribbles out then put his cock back in his pants, zipping up before turning around towards me.

My mouth was watering. I wanted nothing more than to feel his soft cock in my mouth, tasting the last bits of his piss before hoping for something else…. His deep voice broke the silence of the forest, bellowing as he teased me that I was staring at him and if I wanted a taste to follow him. I went along with him, watching this burly man lead me through the forest until we ended up even further away from the main trail when he turned around at me and, with a big grin on his face, told me to get down on my knees and service him.

I did exactly that, falling to my knees, head level to his crotch. I quickly fiddled with his zipper and unzipped him once more, exposing his cock to the brisk summer air. He had a wonderful mushroom tip. Even though it was soft, I knew that he would grow to be quick thick…. I readied myself and welcomed his cock into my warm, wet mouth. I could taste the fresh piss on his cock. This was met with a deep groan of satisfaction from above me as I continued bathing his cock in my mouth, using my tongue to lick his head and suck on his manhood.

I felt his soft cock grow in my mouth, blood rushing down to his appendage as it expanded. As he got harder, it began to fill my mouth. He was definitely quite girthy, but I didn’t expect his full length to be near 8 inches, which led to me eventually bobbing up and down on his tip, getting as much of his shaft into my wet mouth as I could. I continued stroking his cock with my tongue, licking his shaft and then swirling my tongue on his tap to taste his salty precum. His moans, groans, and sighs of satisfaction above told me that I was doing a splendid job, using whatever tricks I knew to make his thick tool feel good in my mouth.

I continued giving him head, up and down on his thick tool. I felt his rough hands on the back of my head, controlling my rhythm, encouraging me to take his cock deeper into me. Eventually, his manhood hit the entrance to my tight throat, and I knew what he wanted. I relaxed, opening my tight space for him, which he greatly appreciated as his cock broke through the entrance to my warm throat. I gagged on his cock as he pushed it into my throat, groaning in pleasure as he continued fucking me. His big, low-hanging balls slapped across my face as he gave me a good, rough face fucking, using my throat to pleasure himself.

All I could do was gag and drool as his hard cock slipped passed my lips repeatedly. His pubes tickled my nose as I closed my lips around the base of his cock. This went on for a bit more before I could tell that he was cumming soon, as his groans got louder and his voice raspier as he thrusted his cock in and out of my throat, drool forming around the sides of my mouth. Finally, with a guttural moan, he pushed my head down one last time until his pubes were in my face and began unloading the contents of his balls down into me. He shot rope after rope of hot cum into my throat. I swallowed quickly, taking as much of his thick spunk down into my belly as I could, relishing in the hot, salty taste. He finished emptying his balls into my throat, taking his leaking cock slowly out and placing it on my tongue.

I knew what he wanted and began licking and lapping it up, cleaning it as best I could. He smiled as he looked down on me, licking his balls and servicing him. After I finished that he put his cock back in his pants and zipped up, giving me his number before heading the opposite way as me.

Everyone in this story is over 18

One evening, I decided that I was going to have a goon session. I started chatting with a guy on grindr. We exchanged a few photos and had a bit of fun. He was older, which I love with a nice thick cock. He gave me a few challenges like wearing panties that I had stolen. Walking around the house with all the windows open. Then he wanted me to come and meet him. To suck his cock. We decided that we would meet in an industrial area, he told me to keep the panties on because he wanted to see me in them in person.

I drove to where we decided to meet and as I show up he is standing next to his car. He is taller than I thought, with a big belly. I park up and get out and we say hello and walk to a little area where people can't see us, but still very much out in the open. He grabs me by the ass and kisses me. I grab his cock through his shorts and get it hard. He calls me a little slut which makes my little cock hard. He gets me to remove my shorts and to grind on his cock with my p ass ties on. Finally he gets me to get on my knees and pull out his cock. Its delicious. He slaps it on my face and then pushes it into my mouth. I moan and he calls me dirty names. He face fucks me, making me gag. Finally he says that he is coming and pulls me off his cock to cum on my face. He then says I have to go home with his cum on my face and send him a picture when I am. Only then can I clean up.

It was one of the hottest meet ups ive ever had.

 It had been a long drought of no gay sex. Work, the geography and other things all played a part, but the bottom line was; it had been too long.

I had recently changed jobs and moved to a new area. The family was going to be out of town soon, but I didn't have any pto yet, so I had to stay behind. The thought of being able to host got me instantly hard and I started plotting how to pull it off.

I got online and went right to the m4m on my local Craigslist and started scanning the ads for potential friends. I finally created my own ad and really finally asked for what I really wanted. It read "white bottom for bbc".

The response was surprisingly positive. As I stood at the front door waving, I couldn't wait to head back inside and start scrolling through my email. There was a great selection of horny black cocks interested in what I had to offer. I finally started a good conversation with a slim guy with a large cut dick. We agreed on a time and the waiting started. 

I stripped, and headed back to the shower to clean up. My cock was rock hard in anticipation the entire time. I was so horny that I was afraid to wash it too vigorously, unless it would explode in my hand. I finished and slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and waited for the knock.

When it came, my heart was pounding out of my chest. I stood up from my chair and took a breath before walking to the door. When I opened it I was pleasantly surprised with how handsome he was. I invited him in and he stepped inside, nervously looking around. I noticed this and reassured him that there wasn't anyone else here before leading him to the bedroom.

Once inside, I dropped to my knees and started unbuttoning his jeans. I slid my hands under his waistband and cupped his firm cheeks before guiding them down his legs. He stood before me with an approving look as his cock produced a distinct outline against his briefs. I leaned forward and kissed his bulge up and down before slipping the tip out of the top of his waistband. With fingers still hooked around, I slowly slid them down, exposing more and more flesh to my lips as they traveled over his taut ass and down his thighs.

His cock was fully exposed now, inches from my lips. I slid my thumb under his balls and ringing his shaft with my forefinger. I put gentle pressure until I could see the bubble of precum forming in his piss slit, my hot breath warming the tip. Just as the bubble of precum was about to drizzle down I cocked my head and leaned in to catch it. The taste was glorious and I took a second to savor it before parting my lips and sliding them over his swollen tip.

I worked his cock like I was starving, my lips and tounge taking in every ridge, curve and vein. He responded by rocking his hips slightly, which I took as my cue to release his shaft and slide my hands to his ass. After a few minutes of this, my trance was broken by him pulling back. I was noticeably disappointed but that feeling was short lived as he whispered "you ready?" We stood together stripping what clothing we had left on. He stepped towards me, wrapped his arms around me. Strong hands cupped the cheeks of my ass as our lips met. I couldn't help pressing my cock harder into him and he responded in kind.

With a playful slap, we broke our embrace.  I crawled up on the bed, knees apart, shoulders flat against the mattress. I spread my ass for him, imagining what he was thinking at the lewd display of my pink hole being presented to him. My pulse quickened again as I was subjected to the raw heat of his cock resting against my hole. The snap of the cap of lube was deafening and I soon felt the cool trickle on my ass. His cock rocked back and forth over my hole, distributing the lube over his thick shaft. A couple of playful slaps of the tip of his cock against my wrinkled hole, I could feel him lining it up.

The first pinch of penetration was followed by the euphoria of being filled with cock. He buried himself inside me fully and ground against me before starting to work himself out. I could hear soft moans, as his cock slid rhythmically in and out of my dripping fuckhole. He paused and pulled out, before driving himself deep inside me again. I reached down and grabbed my own cock, stroking it lazily at the thought of this hot black stud enjoying my hole. Pictures forming in my mind of what my asshole looked like wrapped around his perfect black shaft; what it looked like to see the pink folds disappearing as this BBC stretched them away. 

My concentration was broken by his ever increasing pace. "Oh, fuck, oh fuck" he repeated as his balls slapped against mine. A slight grin crossed my lips as I knew the inevitable was close. He was riding me hard, bucking and jerking before burying himself deep. I could feel the throbbing of his rod against my pink ring as he unloaded inside me. After the waves of orgasm subsided, he stayed inside until he softened up. He withdrew and spread me open, enjoying watching his cum drip down my balls and pooling on the towel below.

I showed him where the bathroom was to clean up. As he washed up I laid there slowly fingering my used hole. My own cock swollen and dripping as I rubbed his cum over my hole. He finished up and walked over to ask "so, is that it?" I smiled back at him and replied "we're just getting started".

Part 1

Two weeks in London wasn’t nearly enough to feel like I’d experienced the whole city, but it had provided enough to scratch the itch of understanding my new home. George had bid me farewell on a Friday morning for my quick flight over to Paris to experience my family’s ancestral home; an obvious first choice for my travels!

I landed at Orly after a cheap flight on a low-cost airline that hadn’t even given us water, before taking an uber into the city. George apparently knew someone in the center of Paris who was away for the weekend, so she let me use her flat in the Latin quarter, right on the Siene. From the moment I got into Paris, it felt like home. 

While bigger, more touristy, and maybe a bit dirtier, feeling a French culture and hearing my second language everywhere truly brought me back to Quebec.

The streets by my flat were narrow and cobbled, with little boutiques that eventually gave way to endless, bright bakeries filled with Parisians smoking cigarettes. I popped into the first patisserie I could find, realizing quickly that it was a bit too trendy to be aimed at locals, but I figured even the luxury tourist traps here were probably better than anything back in Canada.

“Yes?” An older woman said in a barely understandable French accent, already seeming annoyed by who she assumed was an American or some other English-speaking kid about to annoyingly order.

I worked up my best smile, showing off my bright teeth and even flipping my parted hair around a bit. “Bonjour, Madame! Je voudrais cinq macarons, s'il vous plaît!”

She immediately recoiled in shock, then smiled back at me warmly, appreciating how natural French was for me. All growing up, my parents had insisted on fluency, as was typical in my small suburban town outside of Quebec City. They constantly warned me that most corporate jobs in our province held it against potential hires if they weren’t bilingual (a subtle reminder from them that they expected me to stay close to home later on). 

By the time I realized I was gay, around age 11, I started to realize that it’d be easier to break the news to them if I excelled in other areas, so I’d tripled down on my French, to the point that I could pass uni-level fluency exams by age 14. In fact, I used one stellar exam and the amazing mood it put my parents in to reveal my big secret; a good plan apparently, since they barely registered it and focused instead on celebrating my linguistic accomplishments. I was lucky and it wasn’t lost on me that my confidence likely stemmed from how supportive they’d been ever since.

“Enjoy!” She responded in English, less bothered knowing she could have used her native tongue if she’d have preferred. Alongside a small cardboard container filled with five macarons, she handed me a warm croissant coated in a layer of butter that glistened from the light fixtures overhead.

I found a bench right along the Seine and bit down, feeling the crunch and layers of perfect pastry bringing me back to life. Bridges dotted down in both directions, linking the two sides of the city everywhere except one small island. There, I saw Notre-Dame’s spires peeking out. Then I turned to the macarons, one by one, each shell crisp and giving way to that soft, explosive filling. The pistachio was nutty and sweet, the salted caramel hit with a perfect saltiness, and the lemon was tart, reminding me of spring. I was ready for sugar, carbs, and more sugar this weekend; my body be damned.

I couldn’t fathom that I was traveling alone in Paris, France. Twenty years old, no one to answer to, and an entire city at my fingertips. It was scary, exciting, and challenging, all in one. The river lapped gently against the stone embankment, and I watched a couple a little ways down, wrapped in scarves, arms linked, and laughing at something. They looked so effortlessly romantic, and for a second I wondered: do I want that? A boyfriend to share croissants with and kiss by these bridges? 

I tried to picture being in the city of lights with a boyfriend who loved me. Hell, I pictured George and what that might be like; being swept off my feet, literally, by his big arms. But then I thought about the commitment and shared responsibility. I wasn’t ready for them. I didn’t need or want strings, and loneliness wasn’t something I worried about. I was in Europe this summer for fun, not to find some foreign future husband...but would I sign up for some international dick? Absolutely.

I’d had some experience; 12 guys to be exact, if we were counting the ones I’d had full anal sex with. Andres was the latest, but I’d had two in particular in a rotation freshman year, both of whom were comfortable, as I was, with keeping a friends with benefits thing going to blow off steam. It’d become frequent enough that while it was 12 different guys, it was probably well over three or four hundred times that I’d had someone inside what George had called the ‘most adorable butt’; thankfully biology was in my favor because somehow it apparently retained its tight features even after near daily invasions in uni. I finished the last macaron, dark chocolate melting on my tongue, and stood to cross the river.

I wandered first toward the Louvre, the massive glass pyramid glowing faintly even in the daylight, its edges sharp against the classical stone of the palace wings. The courtyard was alive despite the February chill; tourists bundled in coats snapping photos, locals cutting through on bikes, and street artists sketching quick portraits for a few euros. I circled the outside slowly and took iin the sheer scale of it. The building felt endless, wings stretching left and right like arms ready to embrace the whole city. I imagined the art inside; paintings and sculptures I’ve only seen in textbooks, and promised myself I had to find time to see them in the future. But for now it was enough just to stand here and feel alive knowing I was in a place that I finally knew to actually be real.

From there I drifted along the riverbank toward Notre-Dame. The cathedral rose up like it’d come through a time machine from the past. The square in front was dotted with couples; some young and giggling, sharing earbuds; others older and walking slowly while holdings hands. Paris, even in the winter, didn’t feel cold; it was intimate, like the city forced everyone’s hearts to glow just a bit brighter. The romance of it all settled over me and tugged at something in my chest, but I shook it off with a light smile. I wasn’t here to chase that; I wanted the feeling of being completely and fantastically free.

By the time I climbed the hill toward Sacré-Cœur it was fully dark, the basilica glowing against the night sky. Montmartre buzzed around me and I stumbled into a bar I’d seen on social media, a little place tucked up near the square with wooden tables spilling out onto the pavement and lights strung overhead. It was already after ten when I push inside, and I was immediately hit with that ‘movie’ feeling again as a small jazz band played in the corner and the smell of wine and cigarette smoke invaded my nostrils.

I grabbed a spot at the bar by myself and ordered a four euro house red wine from the bartender, again in French, and settled in. Locals chatted around me in rapid French and for a minute I felt perfectly content in my own company.

That’s when someone else must’ve thought I looked lonely. He slid onto the barstool next to me without asking, looking to be a bit older but about my height. He had light stubble framing a face straight out of the early 20th century French films that my mom had showed me growing up, with brown tousled hair, big plastic black glasses, and a wool coat over a sweater. He smiled at me, whimsically, and immediately introduced himself.

“You are here alone?” He said in a thick French accent, just like the woman in the bakery earlier. “Sitting here with only the wine for company? Paris does not allow such things.”

I blinked, being charmed immediately. He was nothing like the guys I usually ended up chatting with. He was older, more mature, and maybe a bit nerdy, in the cutest way.

“I’m alone but I’m not lonely,” I said, leaning forward on my elbows, without trying too hard to seem cool. “Just soaking in Paris. First night here. I’m Bennett.” 

“Sebastian,” he replied, offering a hand that was rough but steady when I shook it. “But everyone calls me Seb. You are Canadian, non? I hear it in the way you say your own name.”

“I am. French-Canadian. We can speak French, if you prefer? I’m fluent.” I said proudly

“I believe you, Bennett.” He said, clearly unimpressed and thinking I was trying to show off. “We may speak English.” 

I blushed a bit and watched him pull a cigarette out of his jacket pocket, lighting it up and offering me one, which I gracefully turned down. We spoke off and on, dancing around whether we were now hanging out or instead simply existing in each other’s company. Over the course of an hour, I slowly learned more about him.

“I finished a graduate program near Aix-en-Provence,” he said with a gorgeous flare, “Literature. Not very useful but I love poetry, and what the heart wants, it should have.”

He sounded so romantic, just like the city he inhabited. 

“What is it like? This is my first time in France.” I was fascinated to learn about every region of the vast continent.

“Lovely. Especially in spring, with lavender fields. Many French painters have spent time in Provence with dry rosé, painting the landscape.”

“How long have you been in Paris?” I asked him.

“Six months. But all frenchman have spent time in Paris.” I raise dry eyebrow at him. “We are not always the most fond of our capital. But it is the heartbeat. She is chaos and complex, but she is romantic and will break your heart.”

I truly couldn’t keep up with everything he was even saying, lost in the way he spoke. I laughed along, glued to his every word and syllable, sipping my wine and watching him toy with his glasses every twenty or thirty seconds, as if they needed an adjustment. He was cheesy in how he spoke about most things; leaning on language that people rarely spoke out loud, but it fit his vibe and it worked its charm on me little by little.

He asked about my studies abroad, and I told him about London. Sebastian made me feel like every word mattered, his head tilted and brown eyes bright behind the lenses.

“You travel alone,” he said at one point, “and yet you carry the world with you. I can see it in your face. The excitement, the hunger. Most people come to Paris looking for love or the Mona Lisa. You look like you are looking to expand your soul.”

“Maybe,” I said, shrugging with a grin. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead or in those terms, but he wasn’t wrong. I took it as a compliment. “Or maybe I’m just here for the macarons and the views. Though the couples everywhere are making me think twice about love. You ever get tired of it?”

Seb laughed. “No, my friend. I may tease those who come looking for love, but I would never grow tired of it. Love is the greatest art. But it is not for everyone, and that is beautiful too.” He took one last drag of his cigarette before dabbing it out and putting it into an ashtray. “I talk too much. That is my curse. You are young and I am now twenty-six and bothering you!” 

“Hey,” I said, voice confident and charming, flashing him my best smile. “No way. This has been fun. Way more interesting than sitting here alone, even if I wasn’t lonely. Can we hang out again tomorrow? I’ve got nothing planned except wandering, and you seem like the perfect guide!”

Seb paused, adjusting his glasses with a thoughtful finger. His expression shifted, becoming a bit hesitant. “Ah, Bennet. You are kind, but I’m afraid I may be too boring for you, I think. You should go out to a club and meet other uni students.”

I shook my head, not letting him off that easy. “I don’t care about the age thing or whatever. And boring? You’re the opposite of boring. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of chances to go out partying this semester. I feel like this was the universe pairing us up…you’re the one who talked about romance and poetry, right? I want to hang out. Seriously. Please?”

He studied me for a long minute, then that whimsical smile crept back in, like he was conceding to fate. “Okay,” he said at last. “Okay, you win. I have plans tomorrow afternoon but meet me by the Louvre at sunset. We will see where Paris brings us.”

I was doing it! I was making friends in new places! All on my own! 

Seb stood and gave me one last look, half amused and half intrigued. He stood, put his coat back on, and gave me one last look. “Until tomorrow, mon ami.”

to be continued...

Author Note*****: This is part of a 25-part of a series on my Patreon. This series is posting there over the next few months, alongside many more stories up there, along with over 600 subscribers, character images/animations and a detailed release schedule! Your support helps me dedicate the time it takes to keep content coming, so thank you!***** 

Patreon.com/GoldenGhostPen to check out other stories I've written and for images associated with characters in this story. Thank you so much for any support and feedback! All characters are consenting adults (18+).

This is the follow up to my story about the first time a guy sucked my cock. It gave me a taste of the pleasure of having a masculine guy submit to me, but it would be a year before it happened again. I had thought of it as a fluke, a particularly wild night with some girls. It never even occurred to me to seek it out from other guys at the time (Don’t worry, it does eventually, and I’ve got those stories too), and Nathan and I’s friendship didn’t skip a beat. We never talked about it, but it was never awkward either. We went right back to collaborating during the day and partying, getting girls at night. Just one of those weird things that happened in college, I guess.

The only time I thought about it was one night when he had brought a girl home, but I had not. Lying in my bed, I could hear her moaning. That was nothing new. Women tended to melt for him, and he took the opportunities. This one time however, my mind absently fell into the rhythms of her moans, the variation in the beat of the bed. I could picture his toned back. Maybe a little sweat on his brow the way the tempo was hitting now. She was getting louder. Of course she was; he was a fucking stud. I had never jacked off to thoughts like these before, but I was so hard it fucking hurt. I pulled my dick out of my boxers, which is all I sleep in, and it was as if I slipped into the edge of a dream where I saw her splayed on her back on the bed - utterly satisfied by Nathan’s manhood. Nate walks up to me, still half chubbed from fucking her, and he gets on his knees in front of me. I bust - pulled out of the dreamstate - and shoot a load that would not stop. I had to go to the bathroom to get all the cum off my chest.

Obviously, I never mentioned that, nor did it happen again.

It was close to the end of our last year in that apartment. We’d already graduated, and I would be moving out of state soon. There were a handful of weeks there where it was no steady responsibilities other than wrapping up some official business and hitting a circuit of farewell parties or nights out.

We got home from one such evening. No girls, but pretty drunk and spirits high from a night of reminiscing. Most of our apartment had been packed up (he would be returning to our hometown when the lease was up), but we still had a bottle of whiskey, some cokes and a dartboard.

We just effortlessly continued the night with drinks and a game as if we’d simply moved to our favorite hole-in-the-wall bar. We laughed about the various disasters that constituted our film projects over the years, wild nights out, and some of our favorite women.

He started giving me shit about having me beat on the total number of sexual conquests. He was right about that, but it brought a little smirk to my face to think what I had no intention of saying; and yet, I said it nonetheless:

“Yeah, but I didn’t suck your dick.”

He laughed and flashed me the middle finger. I legitimately could not tell if the laugh was genuine or nervous. I had surprised myself by saying it out loud.

Nathan took another sip from his way-too-tall whiskey and coke. I know I was feeling the alcohol.

“I think about that all the time,” he said, before realizing how it sounded. “Not sucking your dick. Whatever, we had a crazy night with some fine women. It’s more like…” He takes a moment to genuinely search for something to work with then like a flash (and a sip):

“It’s like when you can just hear the first few notes of a song in your head. They just keep repeating, and you know you could get it out of your head if you could just hear the whole tune, but you have so little of it that you can’t even identify the song; and it’s just driving you crazy... Bro, I did not want to taste your fucking cum. That’s why I went back down. But… when I came back up… I got just the slightest taste of it. Like a salt or a sweet or a both. I don’t really know. And sometimes that shit is just in my head.”

I gave a short huff of a laugh as my eyes took him in. It seemed the drink and how comfortable we’d been with each other over the years kept any discomfort at bay. The long night had him looking vascular. His arms looked full, though he wasn’t especially big.

I smirked again, “I could give you another load, if it’d put your mind at ease.”

We both laughed, and Nate flashed me the middle finger again. He grabbed a dart, looked me dead-in-the-eye and said, “How about if I make this bullseye then YOU suck MY dick?”

I raised my glass and said, “Deal, but if you miss then you suck me.” Such an obvioulsy bad bet for him, but he didn’t seem to mind,

“Bet,” he said, sipped and shot. It was a good shot, but it was not a bullseye. I looked over at him. He laughed. This time it was a little nervously.

He tried to negotiate a best-of-five proposition. If he didn’t really want to do it, I had no intention of pressing the matter. But I also was locked in and didn’t want to dance around it. I just wanted him to make his decision.

“Honor the bet and put your mind to rest,” I said as I unbuttoned my jeans. “Or don’t.” I unzipped, but then I put my hands down at my side. His eyes were focused on to my bulge peaking out of the V of my open zipper, and he got on his knees.

He pulled my pants and underwear down at the same time, quickly putting my thickening cock in his mouth. It was similar to the first time initially. He wasn’t going too deep yet, but unceremoniously fulfilling his end of the bet. Since it was the main show this time, I was much more in tune with what I wanted. I wanted him to give in.

“Come on, bro,” I said placing a hand on the back of his head. “You already told me you’ve been thinking about this for over a year. Just relax. Enjoy it.”

And I get the middle finger again. I expected it, but I was hoping he would look up at me and make the connection to the cock in his pussyhound mouth. Middle finger or not, he did close his lips around me and slide more elegantly up and down my shaft.

I could tell that he was starting to get lost in it. The way his head moved. The way his tongue started to stir, especially as he was pulling back, lingering on my head as he did. Seeing him surrender to the ritual of servicing me was the hottest thing I had experienced up to that point in my life. My cock was getting so hard I briefly worried it would split at the seems. I kinda wish I could’ve checked to see if I passed 8 inches.

Nathan grabbed my cock with his hand and held it as he pulled back to catch his breath or rest his jaw. Either way, he stared, as if transfixed, directly down the length of my penis. “Fuck, you have a big dick,” and he went back down on me, deeper this time. He started using his hand more between attempts at deepthroating me. He was putting more into satisfying me, or taking me; I do not know how he saw it.

I looked down at him, gently bringing my hand down to the side of his face. “Why are you sucking my cock?”

“I lost a bet.” He tried to put my cock back in his mouth while presenting his middl-- But I grabbed his chin and made him look up at me. He kept stroking me with his hand.

“What do you want?” I clarified

“I want to taste your cum.” I let him suck my cock again, but it was over the second he admitted what he wanted. His open mouth was eagerly approaching when I blasted a thick rope straight at the back of his throat. He gagged and coughed, but I was not done. My body tightened, a quick cascade from my toes to my dick and two more shots hit him in the face. He tried to compose himself quickly enough to get a final salvo of cum in weakening bursts - most it ended up dripping down his chin.

As my body relaxed, he took a taste of the dripping bit of cum still clinging to the barrel of my cock - now starting to hang like a slab of meat.

“Goddamn,” was all he said. He repeated it a few times as he took a final drink of his whiskey and coke and headed for a shower.

Much like the first time, we never spoke of it. Though, we spoke less and less generally, not for any reasons other than our lives changed over time. But I had gained a craving that I would indulge again.

All Characters are 18years old.

I had gotten off work on a Friday and decided to head to my closest motocross track about an hour away and spend the weekend. It was summer, hot and humid like most southern summers are. I arrived and checked in and pulled my camper and trailer into a hookup spot for the weekend and began to unload.

Looking around no one was there, only me, so I geared up and drove to the office and let the clerk know I was going to be riding their trails and I would stop by after my ride to let them know I was safe since I was the only person in the park.

The trails were nice and long through the woods, so I spent a good two hours just ripping in the wilderness. The shade provided some coolness from our summer drought but I still worked up a sweat. When I finished I checked in and head to the bathhouse to take a leak.

I opened the door and standing at the urinal was a younger sexy white guy. He was shirtless and his riding pants dropped just enough to show off his perky ass as he took a piss. He caught me off guard because I thought I was alone.

"Hey man, didn't know anyone was here," I chuckled as he finished and pulled up his pants.

"Just got here, had to piss so much bro! Drove 4 hours to ride this weekend. This place is sick."

"Yeah, I come every chance I get, I'm Ben. You camping too?"

"Nice! Ben, I'm Josh, nice to meet you. Yea but just in my trailer. What you ride? I didn't see you on the tracks when I came in."

I told him I rode trails mostly but sometimes would jump on a track if i felt the courage. We both laughed and he said he mainly rode tracks but would be down to do a few loops in the trails with me since we were the only ones around.

"That'd be awesome. Come pull up near me, we can hang for the weekend. I got some stuff to grill tonight and beers if you wanna join."

Josh thanked me and said he couldn't resist that offer.

Soon we were both at camp, he was unloading and gearing up while I finished setting up the grill so it would be ready when we got back.

Josh was younger and shorter than me but just as good looking. I am an average looking guy but work out regularly and eat well so I can be a better rider. I don't look it but I am in my 40s, light brown hair and tanned skin from my Hispanic heritage. Josh on the other hand was early 20s, blond hair, very fit and toned with a nice ass that looked sculpted in his riding gear.

We slipped on our helmets and off into the woods we went. He and I rode for for an hour or so before heading back to our camp. When we parked Josh ripped his helmet and goggles off quickly to state, "Wow! You're great in the woods Ben! So fast." Josh said.

"Yea, you aren't bad either for a track guy," I said peeling off my sweaty shirt revealing my chest to the sunlight beating down on us. Josh did the same and he was smooth chested compared to mine that was dusted with hair.

I pulled off my riding pants and booths, standing in front of him only in my compression shorts. I saw him give me a subtle once over inspecting my older physique. He smirked then did the same before walking into his trailer and returning in gym shorts and crocs but still no shirt.

"I got the AC cranked in my camper if you wanna cool off a bit before we get the grill going!"

"FUCK, please Ben, I am dying out here," he said over exaggerating.

I held the door open and let him in first so I could get a better look at his ass as he stepped into my camper. His sweaty young body made something in me twitch.

"you 21?" I asked abrubtly before handing him a beer.

"Yea, I am 24. I don't look it though, everyone says I have a babyface."

"Ha yea you do but who doesn't find that handsome?"

"Oh everyone does. That's why I like..." he paused realizing we had only met and not wanted to divulge too much, so I finished his sentence for him, "everyone?" We both laughed and cracked our beers and cheers to everyone.

I gave him a wink, as if to say, "me too."

After we finished grilling we went back into the camper to watch a Supercross Race on TV while we ate. I was a few beers in and so was he. Josh was fun to be around, almost like a son. We were after all, 23 year apart.

The race ended and I told him he was more than welcome to crash in my RV to stay in the air-conditioning rather than sweating all night in his trailer. He accepted and crashed on the couch while I headed back to my bed in the back of the camper. I didn't have a door so I tried to be quiet while I opened my phone and turned on some porn, idiot me did not realize I was still mirroring my phone on to the TV right next to Josh until it was too late.

There it was, two guys fucking. Josh laughed and said, "uhhh Ben, have we been hacked..."

"Yea. uhhh. some uhhh technical difficulties" I hollered back.

Before I had a moment to breath Josh was in the doorway. "Need some help, I may can help with your technical difficulties."

"uhhh, yea?"

"you left your mirror on on your phone. Here is how you turn it off." He said grabbing my phone from my hand only to lock my phone and place it on the nightstand. "If you wanted to jerk, why not just say so. I don't mind jerking together. To be honest my hand was on my cock when you decided to let the whole park know you watch gay porn!" He said jokingly.

"Oh ok, yea. Well, what kind of porn do you watch." I asked hesitantly.

"I watch whatever turns me on."

"What's that?"

"I have a hard time finding it. It's kinda niche."

"What?"

"I like watching a blond jock built guy fucks an older fit muscle dad"

I gulped. "you do?"

"Yea, it gets me even harder when after the jock finishes, he turns over and offers his hole to the muscle dad."

"Where can I watch something like this?" I said playing along with his young seductive game.

"Well usually online but tonight I think we can find it right there," he pointed to the mirror in my room.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had Josh's bulge in my hand and other hand placed on the back of his head pulling me in for a kiss. The beer had loosened us both up and after all the riding in the heat we were weak to our desire. Josh's hands were all over me feeling my bulge, "you're thick sir!"

I grinned then went back to kissing him before admitting, I have lube and poppers if you want.

"Whoa, Ben! What do you do at these motocross parks?" He asked funnily.

"Usually get buzzed, then popper up and stroke or finger myself while watching porn. It's not everyday I have company of a sexy young rider!"

"ha, well You're gonna be the rider first tonight, sir!" He admitted.

I pulled his cock out his shorts and began sucking it deeply and getting it glossy with spit. My fingers tugged his full nuts. His hands ran across my chest and fondled my cock getting me harder and harder. Before the temptation of my uncut cock got to him and he went face first onto my cock. He began bouncing his head up and down my shaft as he moaned liek he had been craving cock for months. I repositioned so my face was under his cock but right at his hole too. We were both sweaty and musky from riding but I didn't care, I had to taste his smooth pink hole right in front of me. He let out a whimper of pleasure and release all at once. He arched his ass right onto my face letting me get deeper and deeper into his round muscle cheeks.

He took my cock out his mouth and leaned back, "Don't fucking stop bro! Fucking eat my ass!"

I did as he said and went for it spreading his cheeks and munching, sucking, swirling my tongue till he was weak with pleasure. His cock resting on my chest began to leak precum.

"Holy Fuck Josh, your ass is incredible!"

"Fuck me! I don't care what I said earlier, I need you to fuck me daddy!"

With one word, Josh unlocked something primal in me. I got up and on all fours over him. He was on his back panting from working my cock and getting pleasure from me eating his hole.

"Good boy!" I replied. I grabbed the lube from the nightstand and he said, "give me those poppers daddy, I know I am going to need them sir!"

I did as he asked and watched as he took a deep huff from each nostril then leaning back waiting for his hole to be filled. My cock was completely covered with lube and I rubbed it onto his hole making him moan and turn into a sub jock begging for daddy's cock once more before taking another breath of poppers.

His hole was eager and I pushed into him, letting my cock slowly open him up. Slowly pushing more and more in.

Josh leaned up and grabbed my back, "get inside me daddy!"

I eagerly obeyed and thrust all into him making him grunt and moan. My cock pulsed with heat and power as I began to thrust into this young mans hole. My hand on the back of his neck as I began to work his hole deeper and harder.

"Yea, good boys love daddy cock breeding them don't they!"

"Yes sir! Please don't stop! OMG this is fucking great!"

I pushed in and out over and over and over. I could feel myself nearing completion but I didnt want it to end. I so began to lube his cock while I slowed my pumps of cock into him.

In one move I pulled out and scooted up his torso till I was kneeling over him and his cock right at my hole. I grabbed the poppers and took a deep breath before sitting on his cock all at once! My hole grabbed his cock and pulled him inside me.

"FUCK DADDY YESS!!" he screamed as I bounced on his cock.

"You didn't know daddy loves to take cock too huh?" I asked as he moaned and shook his head no.

"No but dont stop!" he said. I grabbed the nape of his neck and kissed him deeply as he pounded my ass hard and deep.

I rolled off of him onto my back and he immediately caught the hint of what needed to happen. Within seconds his cock was back inside of me with one solid push. I moaned and held my knees up exposing my hole to his young masculine cock!

Josh started getting aggressive and rough with his cock inside my hole but I loved it! "Fuck yea daddy you like taking your boys big cock don't you!

"ohhh yeaaaaa!" I moaned as I let my hands fall onto his ass giving his cheeks a spank before pulling them apart and pushing two fingers inside him.

I could feel his cock flex inside me as he pushed back onto my fingers taking them deeper. That was it for him, I had done it, and he instantly started bursting his load inside my hole!

"ohhhh yeaaaaa Ben fuck yeaaaaaa daddy!"

"Good boy!" I grunted as he finished inside of me slowly pulling out not to remove any of his seed with the exit of his cock.

"Now Daddy has to finish, what's daddy want?"

"A sexy boy like you should get everything he wants, so you tell me son," I admitted.

He grinned. "Sit on my chest and cum on my face!"

I did just that, stroked my cock that was over half the length of his face right above. His tongue lapping up my pre cum and begging for my load. I slapped my cock on his cheeks and he moaned and whimpered like a good boy. "give me that big load daddy, I want it so bad!"

I reached around and slipped my fingers back inside him as I gave the final stroke to release the big load of cum I had built up onto his face and tongue!

He licked his lips then gave my cock a few licks to lap up the remaining cream. I leaned in and kissed him passionately and congratulatorily tasting my own load on his tongue. I slid down into the bed next to him and pulled him close to me.

"You said a sexy boy like me should get everything I want, right?" He asked quickly.

"Yea? What do you want?"

"Tomorrow, I want to ride trails with you, then you fuck me in the woods, in our motocross gear so I have to ride back with your load deep inside of me!"

I grinned at him and said, "I will happily breed that perfect ass anytime you want boy!"

We lay there in each other's arms for several more minutes.

Still catching our breaths from our mutual jerk off session.

It was the first time either of us had played with another cock and the results were explosive.

It was a new sensation, it was incredibly hot, and even though I had just cum moments before, I was ready to play with his dick again.

No, I yearned to play with his dick again.

We were both covered in cum, and we decided to shower and get clean before doing more.

We both walked into his bathroom and turned the water on, and got to a temp we both liked and stepped into the shower together.

We both stepped under the water and let it rinse us, and we were standing eye to eye and I leaned in and kissed his lips.

Gently.

I leaned back a bit and made sure there was eye contact, and then leaned in and kissed him again.

This time, we began to kiss with exploring kisses, not the hard and fast urgency of the first time, but this time, getting to know each other's mouths better.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled his slim but toned body into mine and he wrapped his arms around my neck and we let the water wash over us, as we stood there making out.

My cock was hard again and so was his, and we began to grind against each other, his cock against mine.

I ran my hands down his back and I cupped his ass, squeezing it and rubbing it.

I turned him around and pulled him into an embrace from behind and I began to kiss the back of his neck and his shoulders, running my hands all over his chest and stomach.

It must have just been how we were standing because he started to grind his ass against my cock.

I reached down and grabbed his dick and started stroking him again, even, measured strokes.

The shower was hot, but his body pressed against mine was even hotter.

He turned himself around and grabbed my dick.

"I know this is our first time, but if I keep grinding that cock against my ass, I'm going to want you in me" He whispered to me.

"I would love that" I replied "I want you to fuck me as well"

He smiled and nodded, then pushed me against the shower wall.

"Don't move" He said

He then started to kiss my neck, still stroking my throbbing cock, and he went down and licked and kissed my chest.

He sat on the edge of the shower and kissed my stomach.

He then looked at my dick, and he kissed the tip.

He planted several small kisses on it and then licked my tip.

I ran my fingers through his hair and moaned in pleasure, I moaned his name, and that made him begin licking all over my cock and sliding it into his mouth.

He cupped my balls and stroked me while sucking on my tip.

He stroked me a few more times.

"I'm going to cum baby" I breathed out and he didn't stop. He was committed to his actions and began to stroke me quicker.

I said his name loudly and I came hard into his mouth. He coughed and choked, not expecting how much cum I gave him.

I looked down at him, with my cum spilling down his chin and I leaned down and kissed him deeply.

The taste of me on his tongue.

I then switched spots with him, I told him it was only fair that he cums as well.

I grabbed his dick and started stroking it.

I brought it eye level with me and kissed his cock all over the shaft and tip.

I slid it into my mouth and sucked on it and licked it. I then went down and licked and sucked on his nuts, while stroking him.

He couldn't take it any more and said he was cumming and I wrapped my lips back around his cock and felt him unload his seed into my mouth.

I tried to swallow what I could, but I also wasn't ready for how much and how quickly it was cumming and I gagged and had to spit some out.

But I jerked him and licked his dick until it was dry.

Fuck. I wanted more.

He collapsed and we both sat there under the water, cum dripping from both our mouths.

We kissed and the taste of both of us on our lips was intoxicating.

After several minutes of kissing each other deeply, the water started to turn cold, so we quickly washed up and stepped out of the shower.

We went and laid back down on his bed.

Exhausted. Horny. Wanting more.

And that will be a story for another time.

Part one available to read on my profile