I was on a bus back from work and it was insanely crowded because the route I take is very popular. We were stuck in traffic for a while because of the ongoing road work. I was standing closer to window when a guy taller than me ended up pushed up against my back side. I didn’t pay much attention to it at first, it’s just something that happens sometimes, I occasionally would brush up against guys bulges often so it wasn’t anything unusual. However, with the bus constantly rocking back and forth, the guy ended up rubbing against my ass for a while and after some time, I started feeling something getting harder and bigger. I glanced back and caught his eyes, he was blushing a bit a whispered “sorry” to which I just nodded. I tried to ignore it but I realized that he’s almost fully hard now with the shaft grinding between my clothed cheeks. I involuntarily started backing up into him to which he reciprocated by pushing his hips forward and placing one hand on my hip. I was wearing my work trousers which are like more formal tighter dress pants and it felt really good feeling his now fully erect dick. We tried to be super discreet about it which made the whole thing even hotter. After sometime, he became a little more intense with the thrusts and I whispered that we might get caught, to which he didn’t respond. But after a few minutes, he whispered “fuck I’m getting close”. He quickly distanced his hard bulge from me to not cum and get jizz all over himself and that’s when I got a good look at his impressive boner and little wet spot on the tip. I whispered thank you and started heading for the exit cus we were nearing my stop and brushed against him one last time before covering my own boner with my bag and leaving.

(Note: Everyone depicted is 18 and fully consenting)

(Click here to see Part 1)

There we are in our dorm room, standing naked and covered in cum, laughing like a bunch of idiots. The tension is gone, and I already feel so connected to Sam. I can't believe how quickly everything happened. If you told me yesterday that I just got done jerking off with my new roommate, I wouldn't believe you.

"So uhh... we should probably clean up some right?" Sam says, standing tall, face beaming. Neither of us could stop smiling since we both finished.

"Probably a good idea." I say back. Sam goes through his dresser, and picks up a towel. He wipes himself down and tosses the used towel over to me. I catch it with my right hand and I can immediately feel that it's wet. And even more so, I can feel how neither of us are uncomfortable with that. I wipe myself down too, noticing Sam watch me do this.

"There. Should we maybe, hit the showers?" I say to him. I toss the towel back to him. He catches it, his face unmoving. I can see his eyes light up at the idea, so we both start to get re-dressed. Sam grabs a new, clean towel along with a fresh set of clothes.

Shit. I don't have my laundry. All of my dirty and clean clothes were in my car. I've been cutting it close on laundry this last week, and I only had enough clean clothes to last me the trip. Damn, well. Might as well ask Sam, right?

"Sam, can I ask you a favor?"

"Yeah. What's up?"

"I left all of my laundry and my towels are in my car. Do you have a towel I can borrow?"

Sam smirks at me. "Sure." He tosses me the towel he's holding, along with his pile of clothes. "You can borrow these. But the catch is, I only have one clean towel... The only other one I brought is, y'know..."

He nods to the corner, where the used towel sits on the ground.

"So, would you be cool with sharing?" he offers. Guess I don't have a choice, and it's not like I don't want to. But at the same time, do I want other people to see that? Maybe there are some guys there I recognize, and I don't want them seeing me share a towel with him. I'm not exactly out of the closet yet, so I don't want it to be a risk.

"Do you think that'd be weird? Maybe there are already some guys in the shower."

"Well, how about this? I'll go to the bathroom and see if there are anyone in the showers. I'll text you if the coast is clear."

I agree with his plan. He grabs a new set of clothes and tears the towel back from out of my hands dramatically. He starts to walk out the door, but he leans against the frame of the door. He winks at me, smiling, before he shuts the door behind him. I fall onto my bed.

Holy shit. The reality of the moment, and how I'm going to live with Sam for another 8 months sinks in. The thought of going into this that fast is awesome, of course. But if things end up not working with this, it'll be awkward as hell until the summer. So for now I'll just have to enjoy this, and hope everything pans out. And it seems like it will.

As I lay atop my bed, I notice the towel out of the corner of my eye. No one's in here, and I know this is kind of perverted, but if I really wanted to... I could just get up and sniff the towel. I rush and pick it up. At least half of this cum is mine, right? That probably makes this less weird. Ugh, who am I fooling? I scrunch up the towel, holding it up to my nose, sniffing it. I feel crazy, but the smell we made together smells incredible. I get interrupted by my phone buzzing. A text from Sam reads,

"Coast is clear😎"

It's funny, he texts like a nerd too. I heart the message, pick up the pile of Sam's clothes, and start walking to the bathroom. I walk in, and Sam's the only one here. Sitting on the bench, naked already. Of course he is. He's probably just doing all of this to tease me.

"Heya. There you are, ready when you are." He walks over into one of the stalls and turns the water on. This shower area is a separate room, with 8 shower stalls, each separated with a curtain. I take my clothes off, with no towel to cover myself. I walk into the shower room and Sam's shower curtain is completely open, showing off his wet, naked body. I can tell this is a silent invitation of sorts. Despite my earlier protests about being caught, I can't say no to him like this. I walk into the shower stall, closing the curtain behind me.

I walk into the warm water, eyes meeting with Sam. He smiles at me, and we stare at each other in silence. He brings is face closer to mine, offering a kiss. And I go for it, kissing him back. His lips are so soft, and when I kiss him, he tastes familiar in a way. We keep kissing, bodies pressed against each other, the shower head pouring water onto us. He starts to feel my arms as we kiss. I use this as a chance to feel his abs and pecs. He's surprisingly firm, and I can tell he's putting a lot of work into it.

"You have a really good body, you know that?" I ask him. He looks to me and smiles.

"I'm glad you think so. You don't look too bad yourself." He scans my body, almost like he's confirming what he thinks about me, in his nerdy jokey way. As he scans my body, we both start looking at my now hard, dick.

Sam toward me mischievously. "So... do you need any help with that?"

I feel myself blush again. Damn, he always knows exactly what to say to catch me off guard. I nod, and he doesn't hesitate when he gets on his knees. Oh okay! He's helping me with his mouth. Hell yeah! Sam looks up at me and asks, "Can I?"

I nod again. I can't bring myself to talk right now, not that there's a need to. I just want to feel what it's like to have my dick in his mouth. He looks up at me, keeping eye contact as he slowly takes me into his mouth. My legs shutter the moment his lips make contact. Sam keeps sucking, and with a good pace too. I can tell he's done this before, and that's good news for me, because who doesn't love a good blowjob?

He keeps sucking, and I can tell how much he's into this. It's so sexy seeing his lips move from my shaft, all the way up to the tip of my dick. And the way his dark brown eyes look at me as he takes me deeper into his into his mouth makes it very difficult for me to stay composed.

Sam keeps sucking faster and harder, keeping the pace and not have taken a breath of fresh air this whole time. Surprisingly. Its seems he really is dedicated to pleasing me. The warmth of Sam's mouth and the warm water pouring down on us is enough to push me over the edge.

"Sam, I'm gonna cum." He seems to have taken this as a sign to go even faster. Oh fuck. Here it is. I start to cum into Sam's mouth, and he starts to swallow all of it. His face twists as the first shot hits his throat, but he went crazy sucking me while he was still swallowing. Even if I came just a bit ago in our room, I can still feel that my load was pretty sizable. The orgasm subsides and Sam stands back up, kissing me. We giggle a bit, enjoying the glee of both being horny college boys getting to mess around finally.

As we keep kissing, we hear the door open, and hear someone walk in. I can tell he's alone. But if he heads to the showers, he'll see that one of the stalls is taken. And under the curtain, he'll see of two pairs of feet, that both belong to guys. And hopefully this guy's chill, and we don't get rumors of two guys hooking up in the dorm showers.

Sam holds up a finger to his lips. I mouth the word "Duh!" silently. He rolls his eyes, then looks down to his hard dick, and then back up to me. He then whispers, "Do you want to keep going?"

I’m 30. I work as a car mechanic in my father-in-law’s workshop, side by side with him and my brother-in-law, who’s 26. My wife is 29. We’ve been together for ten years, married for five. But I’ve been sleeping with her brother for seven years. It’s purely physical. No feelings beyond the sex. No plans to leave anyone. I just don’t want it to stop. I like having both. Separately. I like that I can go home to her and still have this secret with him.

With my wife I usually have sex three times a week. The kind of sex that comes with years of knowing each other’s bodies. With my brother-in-law it’s four or five times. We take every chance we get. Early mornings before the old man arrives. Lunch breaks when the workshop is quiet. Evenings after the shutters are down and the place smells of oil and metal. Sometimes it’s quick and rough against a workbench. Sometimes we take longer when we know we won’t be interrupted. He doesn’t talk much during it. Neither do I. We just do it, clean up, and go back to work like nothing happened.

I don’t feel as guilty as I probably should. My wife gets attention, care, sex. I make sure of that. But I also need this other thing,the risk, the secrecy, the way it feels completely different with him. The way we can be in the middle of a normal workday and suddenly decide we need it. Then ten minutes later we’re both standing there again, wiping our hands, talking about a customer’s clutch as if we didn’t just finish.

Last night I had sex with my wife. Slow, the way she likes it. I was present. I cared. And still, for a second, my mind drifted to the workshop. To the smell of grease and the way my brother-in-law looks at me when he wants it but I pushed the thought away and stayed with her.

I know this can’t stay hidden forever. One day someone will walk in at the wrong time or something will slip. But right now I don’t want to end it. Because having both still feels better than choosing only one.
And guys I love my Wife very much

In my early 30s when I was a bartender I briefly dated, for lack of a better term, a female Instagram model, and she was a giant walking red flag in the form of a trendy influencer. It took me a couple of months to finally break up with her and she was not happy. I don't think she was ever dumped before and did not take it well. It started with insane messages to my friends and family, but after everyone basically blocked her everywhere, she decided to make a gay dating profile pretending to be me.

She had no idea that I was bi since I was always discreet about it, but she made the account thinking it would bother me. She used intimate photos that she either took or asked me to send to her and used those to talk to the guys on the app. She eventually moved on to the next step and arranged for a guy to meet up with me at the end of my bartending shift.

It was an uneventful Wednesday night at the bar. I had my regulars and as it got closer to closing time they all started to leave. With about 30 minutes to closing time an older man who was about 50 years old, white, combed back salt and pepper hair that went down to his neck, about 5'8", average build, and dressed a little nicer than the regulars on a black short sleeve button up shirt and gray slacks. I figured he must just be grabbing a drink while waiting for the nearby train. He took a seat at a stool on the opposite end of the bar from the remaining regulars and I walked over to see what he wanted to drink.

As I got to him he said hi Frank, calling me my first name like we were old friends, but I figured I probably just served him before and he remembered my name. I welcomed him to the bar and took his drink order like I would any non-regular. As the last few regulars left, I let him know it was last call and I was closing up shortly. He seemed confused about my lack of familiarity with him and why I was telling him he had to leave soon.

He introduced himself as Walter and said we've been talking all week. I politely apologized and told him that I honestly had no idea who he was. He then pulled out his phone, opened the app, and showed me the chat complete with x rated pics and asked me a little irritated if that refreshed my memory. I admitted that it was me in the pictures, but I wasn't on that app. I explained to him my crazy ex and made an educated guess that it was her that he had been chatting with. He told me that it was a shame, he was looking forward to having some fun tonight, but he understood. He then joked that my ass was wasted on a straight guy.

I half laughed at his comment and asked, out of curiosity, what exactly my ex said in the conversation that got him to come down to the bar tonight. He told me it got pretty graphic, but I told him it was fine. Pretending to be me, she told him that I act straight and masculine, but like to be used by older men. That I was a hungry cock sucker, wanted to be fucked like a bitch, and used as a cum dump and could take multiple loads. He also showed me the nudes she sent him as well. I agreed that it was a good sales pitch and I understood why he came to the bar tonight. He said it was too bad that it was all made up because he would've loved to breed my ass.

I played it cool, but his story and his aggressive comments were turning me on, but I didn't want to get caught on camera or by a regular accepting his overtures. I said for his troubles that I would lock up and give him a ride home to make up for his wasted trip.

He lived about 15 minutes from the bar and as we chatted a bit in my car, he kept testing his boundaries with his comments and getting no resistance from me. Drunkenly telling me how he loves fuckinh masculine men, especially ones with bubble butts, and how he bets I could suck cock real well. Maybe he was drunkenly confident or maybe he saw the bulge in my pants from my cock getting hard, but as we pulled into his driveway he aggressively grabbed my crotch and told me he thinks I should come inside with him. I agreed and we got out of my car and walked into his house.

As we got inside his house, he pulled me close, giving me a deep passionate kiss and guiding my hand to stroke his cock through his pants. He pulled off the kiss and said this was a pleasant surprise. He asked me how much of what she said was true and I told him it was pretty accurate other than the age preference and that I considered myself vers. He pulled me in for another deep kiss, pulled off, and said in a commanding voice that vers wasn't in the plans tonight. He started pulling off my clothes until I was naked and he stripped down himself revealing his already hard cock. He circled me, running his hands over my body, tweaking my nipples, squeezing my cock, and gave my ass a nice firm grab. He then told me to follow him as we made our way into his living room.

He sat down on a loveseat, spread his legs, stroked his cock, and told me to get on my knees, crawl over, and show him my cock sucking skills. I crawled up between his legs and took his hard cock into my mouth and started bobbing up and down his shaft. He put his hand on the back of my head and started thrusting in rhythm as he called me a hungry cock sucker. He held my head down on his cock, cutting off my oxygen, releasing, and repeating it until my eyes teared up. He let go of my head and said he waited long enough, but it was time to breed my ass.

He pulled me up and led me to his bedroom. As soon as we got in the room, he pushed me face down onto his bed, crawled on top of me, and pinned me down with one hand on the back of my neck as he reached into a nightstand and pulled out some lube. I felt lube dripping onto my ass as he started sliding one finger in and out before adding a second and then a third finger. I moaned as he stretched my hole with his fingers and he shoved my face down into the mattress with one hand as he finger fucked me with the other, telling me to take it like the slut I am. I muffledly moaned into the mattress as he dominated my ass with his fingers. Satisfied with loosening me up, he pulled his fingers out, told me to present my ass up, and then aggressively plunged his hard cock into my ass.

He pounded me hard and deep, telling me that this ass belongs to him now as I moaned and grunted. With every deep thrust I could feel his balls slapping against my ass as he called me a whore. He then flipped me onto my back, pushed my legs over my head, and started fucking me hard in that position. He stuck his fingers in my mouth, before removing them and slapping me, telling me to look him in the eyes as he fucked me. He reached down and choked me slightly and yelled at me to be a good slut and don't break eye contact. His thrusts got erratic and he let out a gutteral moan as I felt his hot load fill my ass. He pounded away until he was empty, pulled out, and laid on top of me stroking my cock as he started giving me a deep kiss.

As I felt his cum dripping from my ass he started to stroke me harder and faster,. telling me to cum for him and within moments I was shooting my load up on to myself. He swept some up with his fingers, licked them, and then gave me another deep kiss making me taste my own cum. He told me I really was the slut he was hoping I was and that he should thank my ex. I joked that at least she was good for something. We exchanged phone numbers and planned to explore some more in the near future.

[All characters are 18+]

This is Part 1 of my short story “Three Guys Watching Porn” from my College Guys First Time series!

---

Scott and I were sitting on the couch when David came into my dorm room. He came through the door with a grocery bag, which he unceremoniously emptied onto my empty bed. It was all the typical stuff you’d expect for a freshman video game marathon - bags of chips, pretzels, salsa, Red Bull - and a porno DVD?!?

I walked over to the bed and picked up the video. I found myself holding it by the corner, like it was something dangerous - this was the first time I had ever actually seen hardcore pornography.

“What’s this for?” I asked David.

“I figured we could watch it before we get into the game.”

Scott snatched the video from my hand.

“Fuck, yeah! Where’d you get it?” he asked David.

“Swiped it from my roommate - that was the only one he had that wasn’t all dudes!”

“Your roommate’s gay?” I asked him. I had only been away from my hometown for a month, and I hadn’t ever actually met a gay person.

“Yeah, he’s a complete ‘Loud and Proud’ type. He’s even made a few passes at me!”

“Did you turn him down?” Scott asked.

“Yeah - he’s not my type. And he’s not the first dude who’s checked out my bod,” David said, playfully flexing his bicep as he flashed a grin. “I’ve been with guys before, but the ones I’ve been with were more into fucking than they were into labeling each other. I usually prefer chicks, but when you’re horny, a hole’s a hole, right?”

Scott laughed and I was totally stunned. I had never heard guys talk like this. Where I come from, even the slightest intimation that a guy might be gay was sure to lead to a punch in the face. And these two guys were casually talking about guy-on-guy sex?

My head was spinning - I had been raised to believe that having sexual feelings for someone of my own gender was one of the worst things that could happen to me. I think my parents would probably prefer to hear that I’d killed someone or been paralyzed from the neck down than that I was turned on by dudes!

I grew up in a very small, very religious town, and the closest I’d ever come to porn was a Penthouse magazine that I’d found in the woods when I was a kid. Just looking at the pictures in that magazine had made me feel guilty and ashamed, especially the ones that showed a man and woman having sex. Looking at those pictures had confused me as much as they had turned me on - I found myself focusing more on the guy in that part of the magazine, but the ladies in the rest of the book still did it for me. I’d stroked off to that magazine so many times that the pages eventually fell out!

Scott had swapped the game disc for the porno in the PS3 and was clicking through the menus to start the movie.

As the terrible music from the soundtrack began to play, we all sat down on the couch - me on one end, David on the other, and Scott in the middle. On the screen, a guy with a crazy-huge cock had a girl bent over a chair while he fucked her. Her huge tits jiggled wildly as the guy pounded away at her, and the camera went to a close-up shot of his thick cock slamming in and out of her hairless pussy. They were both moaning and groaning with obviously fake passion, but this was still the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

My dick was growing uncomfortably stiff inside my jeans - I was sitting at an angle that pressed it crookedly against my thigh, and my balls were being squeezed inside my underpants. I desperately needed to adjust myself, but I was afraid the other guys would notice my erection, so instead I sat as still as I could and just suffered in silence.

The movie switched to a new scene - it was the same big-titted chick, but now she was being joined by another, even hotter girl. I’d heard about movies like this, but I’d obviously never seen one until now - it was definitely hot to watch while they 69’d each other, but I was in real pain. By the time that scene had ended, I couldn’t take it any longer, and I dared to glance over at Scott and David sitting beside me on the couch. Both of them were sporting raging boners, fully on display through their clothes,  with zero shame about it.

Scott was in sweatpants, and there was clearly a tent being pitched in his lap. David was wearing loose-fitting cargo shorts, and his hard-on was just as obvious as Scott’s. I guess I’d been pretty naive to think that they would give a damn if I had a boner - and when I thought about it, I felt pretty dumb: who wouldn’t have a boner in that moment? That’s the whole point of watching porn!

Now that I felt like I could relax a little, I sat up and adjusted my package through my jeans, moving my dick into a more comfortable position and relieving the pressure against my balls.

As I settled back in to watch the video, my dick was throbbing inside my jockeys, and I continued to adjust myself as needed, but this time without embarrassment. Soon I realized that I was rubbing my cock more than I was actually just adjusting its position, and I blushed deeply, afraid that the other guys might have noticed.

When I dared another glance over at David, he was fixedly staring at my hand as it moved along the denim outline of my hard dick. I started to look away, but caught a glimpse of his hand as it went into his own lap. He made a twisting motion with his hand over his crotch, and I noticed that the legs of his cargo shorts were hiked up. I saw a lot of exposed thigh, as well as the head of his dick, which was now poking out of the left pant leg!

David moved his hand from his lap and down to the edge of his shorts and touched the newly exposed tip, then moved the cuff up to reveal some of the shaft. Scott noticed me looking over and he looked, too, just as David lifted the cuff even higher up his thigh to reveal several inches of his hard cock.

His dick was pretty big from what I could see of it, and I felt my own dick rise a little as he touched himself. Scott put his hand in his own lap - I guess he’d gotten a little stiffer then, too. I looked back at the TV and saw that a new guy with an even bigger dick than the first was about to join the two ladies in the action.

That’s when David said, “Oh, man. This is the best part,” and unbuttoned his shorts. When he pushed them down around his knees, his dick shot up like a spring-loaded flag pole. David’s cock was porn-star huge - he would have fit right in with the guys we were watching on screen!

I’d seen plenty of other guys naked in the shower (and, yes, I’d mentally compared their cock sizes to my own), but the only erect penis I’d ever seen was my own. The sheer size of David’s took me by surprise, and watching him touch it turned me on more than a little.

He grabbed the base of his shaft and started to rub the tip with his other hand. Scott was sitting between David and me, and he stood and dropped his jeans, and then his boxers, to the floor. He was pretty well-hung, too, but nowhere near as big as David and probably even a little smaller than me.

As Scott sat back down in the middle position on the couch, he turned his attention back to the TV. I glanced over at David, then back at Scott, both with their cocks out. Being fully dressed now made me feel like the odd man out, so I undid my jeans and slid them down my thighs. Along the way, I hooked the elastic waistband of my underpants with my thumbs and guided them both to my knees. Once it cleared the waistband, my stiff dick popped back into place and came to rest flat against my belly, with the tip reaching to just below my navel.

David looked over and said, “Nice rod, dude,” then went back to watching the video and slowly stroking himself.

I noticed Scott looking back and forth from the TV, to David, then to me, then back to the TV, and my boner twitched as I took it in my hand. Over the next few minutes, Scott continued switching his attention between David’s man-meat and the TV. After a few minutes of that back and forth, he walked over and got a plastic ruler from the pencil cup on my desk.

When he got back to the couch, he sat down, handed the ruler to David, and said, “Just how big is that fucking thing?!?”

David answered, “Why don’t you measure it and find out?” as he tossed the ruler back to Scott.

Scott happily obliged. He got down on his knees in front of David and held the ruler up against his hard tool. David was holding it upright from the base, and when the cool plastic of the ruler touched the skin of his shaft, his cock twitched vigorously. Both Scott and David chuckled as Scott grabbed David’s tip to steady it, then pressed the bottom of the ruler against his ball sack. The tip of David’s cock reached to just below the far end of the ruler, and Scott used his thumb and forefinger to press the tip against the clear plastic to get a more exact measurement.

“Ten inches, plus,” Scott announced. “Holy fuck.”

David wiggled his hips as Scott held the ruler steady. He now had one hand wrapped around the base of David’s shaft as the other pressed to the tip against the ruler. Scott squeezed the mushroom shaped head, looked up into David’s face, and quietly asked, “You like that?”

David moaned a little and pushed his hips forward, forcing Scott’s hand to slide up along the shaft of his dick. Scott tossed the ruler onto the couch and used both hands to stroke David’s shaft a few times, then moved in closer to David’s lap.

David put his hand on top of Scott’s head and pushed his dick forward until it touched Scott’s chin, then slid it up until it touched his lips. Scott licked his lips and parted them softly as David guided his dick into Scott’s mouth - first just the very tip, then the entire swollen head, pushing a little farther in each time, until half of David’s cock had disappeared into Scott’s mouth. Scott pulled back and David shifted in place as the two of them got into a comfortable rhythm. David’s hips writhed gently as Scott took more and more of that long cock into his mouth.

David looked over at me and said, “How big is yours?”

I was so mesmerized by the sight of Scott sucking David’s huge cock that I was lost for a second.

“How long’s your dick, bro?” David prompted, glancing at the ruler next to me. “Come here, stand up on the couch,” patting the empty cushion between us.

I stood up and let my jeans fall to the floor. Scott continued to impressively work his way further and further down that massive dick as I pulled my underwear all the way off and got up on the couch and stood over David. He grabbed my right foot and pulled me closer, positioning me until I had one foot on either side of his spread thighs. A drop of pre-cum dripped from my cock and landed on David’s belly. He rubbed it against his smooth, tight abs, then grinned and licked his finger.

He took the ruler from my hand and held it against my stiff dick.

“Put the end right at the base of your nuts,” he instructed, cupping my nuts in his hand and holding the ruler in place with his thumb. I held the edge of the ruler tight against the shaft of my penis as David used his other hand to line it up with the ruler. He pressed the head against the plastic and announced, “About nine inches,” then adjusted my throbbing hard cock along the ruler and corrected himself. “Actually, a little over nine. Think I can take the whole thing?”

…

To be continued!

I stood there dripping in the tub for a few seconds after he left, listening to his heavy footsteps going down the hall and the creak of my bedroom floor when he stepped through the door.

Two minutes.

I climbed out and picked up his towel off the bathmat. It was damp from his body, warm in the middle, and when I pressed it against my face to dry off, it smelled like him. Soap and sweat and something underneath that was just Tom. I dried my chest and my arms and my legs, and then I reached back and dried between my cheeks, and my fingers brushed my hole. It was still slick. Still soft. It twitched against my fingertips like it knew what was coming.

I almost lost my nerve right then.

I looked at myself in the mirror over the sink. My lips were puffy and red. There was a pink mark on my chest where his knees had been. My cock was standing straight up, bobbing every time my heart beat, the head shiny and leaking. I looked like somebody I didn't know.

Eighteen years old. Valedictorian. Headed off to college in August. And in about a minute and a half, my dad's best friend was going to fuck me for the first time in my own bed.

"Clock's ticking, boy."

His voice came down the hall, calm and low, and my feet were moving before I even decided to move them.

My bedroom door was wide open. Tom was standing beside my bed, naked, his cock jutting straight out in front of him, so hard it was bouncing a little with his pulse. He had the lube bottle in one hand. His phone was lying face down on my nightstand next to my alarm clock, and the red numbers said 11:41.

He'd pulled my comforter all the way off and thrown it in a heap on the floor. It was just my sheets now. My plain blue sheets, wrinkled from where I'd been pinned down on them earlier with his cock in my throat.

"Not on top of the blanket," he said, like he could read my mind. "On the sheets. Right where you sleep."

He patted the middle of the mattress.

"Every night from now on, you're gonna lay your head down on this bed, and you're gonna know. This is where you lost your mouth to me. This is where you lost your ass to me. And you're gonna smell it, too, 'cause I'm gonna sweat all over these sheets and leak all over 'em, and you ain't washing 'em. Hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Face down. Ass up. Show me what I'm taking."

I crawled onto the bed. I pushed my face down into my pillow, the same pillow I'd slept on last night thinking about nothing, and I pulled my knees up under me and pushed my ass up in the air. I spread my knees wide. The air from the ceiling fan hit my wet hole, and I shivered all over.

Tom didn't touch me. I could hear him breathing behind me. I could feel him looking.

"Reach back," he said. "Both hands. Spread it for me."

My face burned against the pillowcase. I reached back and grabbed my own cheeks and pulled them apart, and I felt my hole open up a little in the air, felt it flutter, exposed and pink and empty.

"Goddamn, Jakey."

The mattress dipped hard as he climbed up behind me. His knees pushed between mine and shoved my legs even wider. Then I felt his hands on top of mine, big and rough, squeezing my fingers into my own ass, holding me open.

Then I felt his tongue.

"Ohhh! Ohhh fuck, Tom... sir... oh God..."

He didn't tease. He buried his whole face in my crack and licked me from my balls all the way up, slow, his 5 o’clock shadow scraping the insides of my cheeks, and then he went back down and pressed his tongue flat against my hole and just held it there, hot and wet and heavy. Then he started working it. Circles. Little flicks. Then he pointed it and pushed, and it slid inside me, and I swear my eyes rolled back.

The sounds he was making back there were filthy. Wet, sloppy, slurping sounds, like he was eating a peach. He groaned into me, and I felt the vibration all the way up my spine. My cock was trapped against my stomach, throbbing, dripping a puddle onto my sheets.

He ate my ass for what felt like forever, until I was pushing back against his face and grinding on his tongue without even meaning to, until I was babbling stuff into my pillow that didn't even make sense. Then he pulled back and spit right on my hole.

"Listen to you," he said, and I could hear the grin in it. "Grinding on my face like a little slut."

The word hit me like a slap. Nobody had ever called me that. Nobody had ever called me anything except Jake, or Jakey, or the smart one. My face got hotter, and my cock jerked against the sheet, and Tom laughed, because of course he saw it.

I heard the pump of the lube bottle. Two fingers pressed against me, cold and slick, and he didn't stop at the tip this time. He pushed both of them in slow, steady, all the way to his knuckles.

"Ahhh! Ungh... it's... it's big..."

"That's two fingers, boy." He laughed, low. "You think two fingers is big, you got a real long afternoon ahead of you."

He scissored them. He twisted them. He curled them down and found that spot again, the one from the shower, and pressed it until my whole body jerked and a long string of precum dribbled out of me onto the sheet. Then he pulled them almost out and slid a third one in with them.

"Ohhhh God... ohhh fuck, Tom, it burns..."

"Breathe through it. Push out. Same as your throat. Same as the nozzle. Your body knows what to do, Jakey, you just gotta quit fighting it." He gave the back of my head a light smack and the distraction made me open up easier, showing me it’s just in my head.

And slowly, so slowly, the burning faded into this deep stretched ache, a fullness that was almost good, and then it was good, and then I was rocking back on his three fingers and moaning like a whore.

"There it is." His voice had gone rough. "There's my little slut. Fuckin' himself on my fingers. Listen to you."

He slid his fingers out. My hole gaped for a second and clenched on nothing, and I whimpered into my pillow.

"Please..."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me."

"Louder."

"Please fuck me, sir!"

"Hell yeah. But remember you asked for it." I could hear the smirk on his face.

The mattress shifted. I heard the lube bottle pump twice, then the slick, wet sound of him working it over his cock, slow and heavy. Then there was a quieter sound, the little scrape of his phone sliding off my nightstand. I didn't think anything of it. I didn't think anything of anything, because a second later I felt the fat, blunt head of his cock press right up against my hole, and every single thought I had went straight out of my head.

It was so much bigger than his fingers. Even after three of them, even after all that stretching, it felt like he was pressing a fist against me. He didn't push. He just rested it there, hot and slick, and slid it up and down my crack a few times, letting the head catch on my rim every time it passed over.

"Look at that," he muttered. "Look at that little hole kissing my dick. It wants me, Jakey."

"Yes, sir... please..."

"Reach back and hold yourself open. Don't let go till I tell you."

I grabbed my cheeks again and spread myself as wide as I could. His one hand settled on my hip, heavy and hot. I couldn't feel his other hand anywhere on me. I'd find out later exactly what it was doing.

"Push out for me, boy. Big breath. Push."

I pushed.

He leaned in.

"Ahhh FUCK! Ohhh God, ohhh God, Tom, it's too big, it's too..."

The head popped through my ring, and the whole world went white. It burned. It stretched me so wide I thought I was going to split down the middle, this huge thick blunt thing wedged inside the tightest part of me, and my whole body locked up around it. I was squeezing so hard I could feel his pulse.

He didn't move. He held perfectly still with just the head inside me and let me shake.

"Breathe," he said, real quiet. "Just the head, boy. Just the head. You're doing so good. Breathe for me."

"Hhhuh... hhhuh... hhhuh..."

"There you go. Feel it. That's my cock in you. Nobody's ever been in there, and now I am. That's forever, Jakey. That's mine now. Nobody gets to be first in this ass but me, and here I am."

I don't know why, but that was what did it. Hearing him say it. Something in my chest let go, and my hole let go with it, and I felt myself loosen around him just a tiny bit.

He felt it too.

"Good boy," he breathed, and he started to sink in.

Slowly he pushed forward. So slow. One inch, then he'd let me breathe, then another. Every inch was bigger than the last. His cock was so thick it was pushing my insides out of the way, filling places in me I didn't know could be filled, and I could feel every vein, every ridge, the foreskin bunched up behind the head dragging against my walls as he slid deeper.

"Ohhhh... ohhhh... ohhhh my God..."

"Halfway, boy."

"Halfway?!"

He laughed. It was a deep, dirty laugh, and I felt it through his cock. He kept going. Deeper and deeper, until I was sure he had to be in my stomach, and then I felt his wiry pubes press against my spread cheeks, his heavy balls settle against mine, and he stopped.

"That's all of it." His voice was rough and shaky now. "Every fuckin' inch. You took it, Jakey. Took all of my big dick on the first try."

I was crying a little. It hurt, but that wasn't why. It was so much. I was so full I couldn't think, and my cock was so hard it hurt, and my dad's best friend was buried balls deep in my ass on the bed I'd slept in since I was a kid, and I'd never wanted anything more in my whole life.

I thought I heard a soft clicking sound but my mind must have been playing tricks on me because I quickly felt Tom’s hand slid up my back and pushed my face deeper into the pillow.

There it was again.

Ch-chk. Ch-chk.

My face went so hot. He was taking pictures. Of his cock, buried in me. Of my hands holding myself open for him. Of me.

"Gotta remember this," he murmured, and I heard a different sound, a soft little ding, and I knew that one too. He was recording. "Gotta remember the day I claimed it. Your virginity is mine. Look at your pussy stretched around my thick cock."

"My... my what?"

He pulled back slow, almost all the way out, and I felt my rim grab at him, clinging to the head like it didn't want him to leave. Then he slid all the way back in, slow and smooth, till his balls kissed mine again.

"Fuuuuucccckkkkkkkkk..."

"Your pussy." He did it again, slow, long, deep. I could picture the phone in his hand, angled down, watching his cock glistening as it disappeared into me. "That's what it is now. A hole's just a hole, boy. It's a one way thing. A pussy's for taking cock. And that's all this is ever gonna be for from now on, ain't it?"

He pulled back and slammed in, one hard stroke.

Unnnph. His cock battering into my guts, knocking the air out of me in shock. My hole tightening at the shock.

"Say it for the camera. What is it?"

The camera. Oh God. My voice was going on there. My voice and my ass and his cock.

"It's... it's a pussy, sir..."

"Whose pussy?"

"Yours. It's your pussy, Tom."

"Goddamn right it is." Another soft ding. "That's for me. Nobody else ever sees it. Just me, any time I want to watch that little cherry pussy swallow my cock."

The phone clattered back onto the nightstand. Both of his hands grabbed my hips.

"Grab the headboard boy, it’s time for you to learn how a man fucks."

I let go and reached out and wrapped my fingers around the wooden slats of my headboard, and Tom started to fuck me.

Long, deep strokes, all the way out to the head and all the way back in, so I could feel every inch every time. The burn was fading. What was left behind was this deep, heavy, stretched-out ache that throbbed every time he bottomed out, and under it something warm was building. Every time he pulled out, my pussy clung to him. Every time he pushed in, the head of his cock rubbed right over that spot inside me, and I'd jerk and squeal into my pillow.

Shlick. Shlick. Shlick.

The lube was loud. The bed was louder. My headboard started knocking against the wall, soft at first, then harder as he sped up.

"That's it," he grunted. "Loosening up. Your pussy's learning what it's for now."

He picked up speed. His hips started slapping my ass, smack, smack, smack, and my cheeks jiggled every time like he'd said they would. He grabbed my ass and squeezed, kneading the meat of it while he pounded into me, and then he spanked me, hard, right on the cheek, and my pussy clenched around him so tight he hissed.

"Fuck! You like that, pussyboy? Do that again."

Pussyboy. My brain snagged on it. He'd made it up on the spot, or maybe he hadn't, maybe he'd been saving it. Either way it went straight down my spine and into my dick.

He smacked the other side. I clenched again.

"Hnnngh! Yes sir!"

"There you go. Good little pussyboy. Squeezin' that dick like you were born to."

I don't know how long he fucked me like that. My knees started sliding apart on the sheets. My back arched so low my face was mashed sideways into the pillow, and I could see the red numbers on the alarm clock past my own arm. 11:52. My cock was swinging under me, slapping my stomach, leaving wet streaks all over my belly and the sheet.

He reached under me and wrapped one big fist around it. One stroke.

"Ohhhhhh..."

He let go.

"Not yet. Told you. You don't touch it, and you don't cum till I say."

"Please, sir, please..."

"Beg all you want, bitch. Ain't gonna change nothing."

Bitch. He said it so easy. The same voice that used to yell "Nice hit, Jakey!" from the bleachers at my Little League games. The same voice that called his buds or my dad "brother." Now it was calling me his bitch with his cock in my ass, and I was moaning into my pillow like I'd waited my whole life to hear it.

He pulled out all the way.

The emptiness was awful. My hole gaped and clenched on nothing, and I actually reached back for him like an idiot, whining, and he just laughed and grabbed me by the hip and flipped me over onto my back like I didn't weigh anything.

"I wanna see your face," he said. "Wanna see what your face does when I'm inside you."

He grabbed my ankles and pushed my legs up and back until my knees were by my ears and my ass was tilted up off the mattress, wide open for him. Then he grabbed his dick, lined it up, and sank back in, all the way, in one long smooth slide.

"Uuhhhhhhhhhhh..."

It was different on my back. Deeper somehow. He was hitting something way up inside me that made my legs shake. And I could see him now. I could see all of him.

He was huge over me. His big hairy chest was shiny with sweat, his stomach flexing every time he thrust, his arms bulging where he was holding my legs back. His face was red, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked right onto mine. I'd known that face my whole life. I'd seen it at every Thanksgiving, every Fourth of July. I'd seen it lean over the grill and tell my dad a dirty joke. I'd never seen it look like this, hungry and mean and owning me.

"There it is," he growled. "There's that face. Look at you. Little fag's eyes rollin' back in his head."

Fag.

I flinched. I couldn't help it. That word had been thrown at me in a hallway exactly once, sophomore year, and I'd gone home and cried about it in this same bed. Tom saw the flinch. He slowed down, his cock buried to the root, and he leaned his face right down over mine.

"Look at me."

I looked.

"You know who'd pin a kid against a locker and call him that?" he said, real low. "Some little prick who's scared of what you are. That ain't me. I ain't scared of what you are, Jakey. I'm balls deep in what you are." He ground his hips into me, slow, and the head of his cock pushed right against that deep spot, and my whole body arched.

His worry pubes scratched at my pussy as his moved his hips. "When I say it, I mean you're mine. I mean you're a faggot who just found out what he's for and it’s something you should be proud of. Look how well you are taking my big cock on the first try. Now you tell me what you are."

My throat closed up. My cock was so hard it was leaking straight onto my stomach in a steady drip.

"I'm... I'm a faggot, sir."

"Whose faggot?"

"Yours."

"That's right." He leaned down, folded me in half, and kissed me.

I didn't expect it. He hadn't kissed me once all morning. His stubble scraped my face, and his tongue shoved into my mouth, and he kissed me hard and sloppy with his cock buried in me. . His fingers and cock had been in both holes already, but his tongue hadn’t claimed my mouth yet. His final claiming. I moaned into his mouth and wrapped my arms around his thick neck and held on.

"Mmmph... mmmnnh... mmmm..."

When he pulled back, a string of spit stretched between our lips. He let it fall onto my chin and didn't wipe it off.

Then he really started fucking me.

He pinned my legs to the mattress with his forearms and drove into me fast and hard, his whole weight behind every thrust. The bed was creaking like it was going to break. The headboard was banging the wall so hard I thought it would leave a dent. His balls were slapping my ass, wet, loud, smack-smack-smack-smack, and every time he slammed home, I got pushed a little farther up the mattress, until my head was mashed up against the headboard.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Uhhh! Fuuuck!"

"Take it! Take my fuckin' cock, faggot! That's what you wanted, ain't it? Laid in this bed every night wishin' some big man would come wreck your pussy?"

"Yes! Yes sir!"

"Say it!"

"I wanted it! I wanted to get fucked by a big cock!"

"Wanted your daddy's buddy to fuck you." His hips hammered down. "Dirty little fag."

Sweat was dripping off him onto me. It ran down his chest and splashed onto my stomach. It dripped off his nose and landed on my lips, and I licked it off. It was soaking my sheets under us. I could smell him everywhere, his pits, his crotch, the sweat pouring off him, the thick funky smell of sex filling up my whole room, and I knew it was soaking into the bed. I knew I'd be lying in it tonight.

He fucked me on my back until I lost track. Then he pulled out again, and my pussy made this awful wet sucking sound, and he flipped me onto my side and climbed in behind me, spooning me. He hooked one arm under my knee and hiked my leg up in the air and slid back in from behind, and this time he went slow again, long lazy strokes, his mouth right against my ear.

"You know what time it is?"

I looked at the clock. 12:14.

"Twelve-fourteen, sir."

"Been fuckin' you over half an hour, slut. Know why I ain't cum yet?"

"N-no, sir..."

"'Cause I already gave you one load this morning. Pumped your belly full. So this one's gonna take its sweet fuckin' time." He bit my earlobe, and I gasped. "You're gonna be on this dick a real long time, pussyboy."

He fucked me on my side for a while. Slow and deep, then fast and hard, then slow again, grinding his hips in circles with his cock buried in me, until I couldn't tell where my body stopped and his started. He licked my neck. He bit my shoulder. He reached around and pinched my nipple and twisted it, and I yelped, and my pussy squeezed down on him, and he groaned right into my ear.

"Fuck, you're a natural. Squeeze it again."

I squeezed.

"Ohhh, that's it. That's my good little pussy." He kissed the back of my neck, almost sweet, then whispered right into my ear. "Born cocksucker. Born bottom. Smartest kid in the class, and the only thing he's really good at is bein' a hole for a man."

I should've hated that. Instead I moaned so loud he had to clap his hand over my mouth.

"Easy. Mrs. Patterson's out gardening, and that window's open." He laughed when my eyes went wide over his fingers. "Or don't. Let the whole street hear what you are. Your call, fag."

He pulled out and rolled onto his back in the middle of my bed, his cock standing straight up, purple and shiny and slick with lube.

"Climb on."

I was shaking so much I could barely move. I crawled over him and straddled his hips, and he grabbed his dick and held it straight up, and I looked down at it, at the size of it, and couldn't believe it had been inside me.

"Sit down on it, bitch. Show me how bad you want it."

I reached back and lined the head up with my hole and sat down.

It went in so naturally now. My pussy just opened up for him like it had been made for it, and I sank down and down and down until I was sitting on his lap with all of him inside me, my hands flat on his hairy chest.

"Ride it."

I'd never done anything like it before. I didn't know how. I lifted up, clumsy, and sat back down, and the head of his cock rammed right into my spot, and I nearly fell over.

"OHHH FUCK!"

"There you go. Again."

I did it again. And again. I found a rhythm. Bouncing on him. Grinding. Rolling my hips the way he showed me with his hands. He lay back with his hands behind his head and watched me fuck myself on his dick, grinning up at me, his pits wide open, the sweat glistening and dripping onto both of my pillows.

"Look at you. Two hours ago you were mowing the lawn. Now you're bouncing on my dick like a two-dollar whore." He reached up and slapped my chest, right across my pec. Smack. "Faster, fag."

I went faster. My thighs were burning. My cock was flopping up and down, slapping his stomach and mine, leaving trails of precum in his belly hair. Bed creak. Ass slap. My own voice, high and whiny and breathless.

"Uhn! Uhn! Uhn! Ahhh! Sir! Sir, please, I need to... I need to cum, please..."

He watched my face for a long moment. Then he reached over without looking and picked his phone back up.

"Keep ridin'. Look right here."

He pointed it up at me. I could see the little red dot in the corner of the screen.

"Tell the camera what you are."

I almost stopped. My whole body went hot and cold at once. He smacked my thigh, hard.

"Didn't say stop."

I kept bouncing. I looked right into the lens, my face soaked with sweat and spit and tears, my cock bobbing in the frame.

"I'm... I'm your fag, sir."

"Louder."

"I'm your faggot! I'm your pussyboy! My pussy's yours!"

"Good boy." He stopped recording and tossed the phone on the pillow. "Gonna watch that one a lot."

We’ve been cool for over 4 years. He’s never told me anything about him liking dudes. We hug when we greet each other and he’s grabbed my ass a few times jokingly but we’ve never done anything until today. I mistakenly walked in the bathroom while he was in there jerking off. He told me to “come here”. He said it with such assertiveness I felt like I had no choice. He put me on my knees and he kept jerking. When it was time for him to cum he told me to open up and busted right in my mouth. It was a lot of so I was about to spit it out but he told me to swallow it so I did that for him. He said “good boy” then went to watch tv with my cousin and acted like nothing happened. I feel like a slut. Has this ever happened to you guys before?

In my early 20s I met this Latina chick. We actually had sex the first night we met. There was solid chemistry and the sex was some of the best I had. We met up a few more times before we officially started dating. She was freaky and really pushed my boundaries. Public places, road head while I was driving, etc. things were hot, wild, and fun.

One evening she is blowing me and her hands are exploring my body and starts rubbing my asshole. I’m just going along with it and she slowly works her tongue down there and bam she starts eating my ass. It was quite unexpected but it actually felt really good. She’s there for a few minutes and she’s moaning like she’s really in to it. She works her mouth back up to my dick and her fingers are on my asshole again. Except this time with a bit more pressure but doesn’t go in all the way. She keeps blowing me and finishes the job.

Afterwards we were cuddling and she was talking about how much fun it was playing with my ass and I agreed that it felt really good. I could tell this excited her because she said next time she was gonna stick a finger in and give me a crazy orgasm by hitting my prostate. I didn’t think much of it.

This went on for awhile and as she said she fingered my ass while blowing me and it was crazy good. Something about hitting my prostate. Started with one, two, and then three. It felt good and I enjoyed it.

Fast forward a few months, I get home from class and she tells me she got a new toy for us to play with. We head back to the room and there is a strap on laying on the bed. I see it and she comes up behind me and grabs my chest and whispers in my ear “I wanna fuck your ass”. Honestly I was really nervous about it not to mention what it might mean for my sexual identity but after talked about it for a bit i agreed to try it.

I’d preface it by saying she did a fantastic job of getting me relaxed and making the build up something intense. I was super horny. She ate my ass, blew me, etc. finally, she assumed the position. I was on my back on the edge of the bed with my legs up in the air. Comically, she takes the strap on and taps it on my cock and teases my hole like I do to her. I feel a pressure as she presses against me and gets the tip in. It hurt a little bit but not really bad. She took it slow getting inch by inch inside me. Granted it was only like 5 inches but still.

She finally got all the way inside me and we made out for a bit with it inside me. She slowly started pumping her hips and the strap on was hammering my prostate. It started feeling really good. She ws talking dirty to me and it was really turning me on. I was rock hard and leaking precum while she was fucking my ass. It was honestly really hot and I was feeling amazing. She’s grabs my cock like a handle and starts stroking me and I bet I didn’t last but a minute before I erupted all over myself.

I was in ecstasy. She was like “see, I knew you’d like it”. She was right, it was incredible. I had never had an orgasm like that before. We continued having sex like this for a few months. I would fuck her occasionally but mostly it was her fucking me.

She brought the idea of a threesome with another guy playfully. She said she wanted to watch me get fucked by a real cock. I hadn’t told her but all this butt play had gotten me curious about what a real cock would feel like. I wasn’t attracted to men but the idea of a fit guy with a nice cock turned me on. So I played it off like I was hesitant. And she gave me her best convincing. So I agreed.

We found a guy who agreed. He was a discrete bisexual top. He had a killer body. 6’3, 205, very well built. 7.5 inch dick. Well groomed. I was excited.

The night comes abs he actually shows up. We all start on the couch having some wine and conversation. He and I hit it off really well. Eventually we all end up naked and he’s sitting on the couch and I’m on my knees in front of him and my girlfriend is sitting in a chair next to us rubbing her pussy.

I grabbed his cock and it was so warm. I licked it and slapped it on my face. The warmth and scent was amazing, totally different from her dildo. I was so fucking hard and leaking precum from sucking his cock. He told me he wanted my ass and holy shit if I was turned on before that sent me through the roof.

I got lubed up and we started in missionary. It didn’t take me long to get stretched out and he was inside and the warmth of his cock and thickness was crazy. I wasn’t expecting it but he started making out with me while he was fucking my ass. It made it so much more intense. We’re going at it for a few minutes and he tells me he wants to watch me ride him.

We get up to switch positions and i realize my girlfriend is still here. She’s just kind of watching. He lays down and i straddle him and we make out a bit more before insert him back inside me. My girlfriend and I had never done this position before and the angle was incredible. I felt so slutty bouncing in his cock and it was turning me on like crazy.

He grabs my hips and starts pumping from the bottom and sprinkling in spots where I’m just sitting on it and kind of grinding. Hard to describe but my body starts to tingle, get super warm, and I feel this pressure building in my cock and I fucking cum like crazy without ever touching my cock. I shot all over his chest and probably not even thirty seconds later he’s moaning and shoots his load in to my ass. My body is shaking and I just kind of fall off to the side and we lay there for a bit. Feeling his load leak out of my ass was so hot.

When I get up to clean off I remember that my girlfriend is there and she doesn’t look super happy. So after he left I asked her about it and she said it was hot but it looked like I enjoyed it too much. And I told her it was amazing and i thought that was what she wanted. We dated for a bit longer but she broke up with me about a month later saying she couldn’t get past how much I enjoyed it.

This happened a few weeks ago.

My mom left for work and my gf went home.

I was alone bored and horny so I decided to have some fun.

I took a bit of cocaine and looked through my gfs clothes.

I put on a red string a black leather bra with the matching skirt and tied my tiny clit and balls with rope.

I also put in the biggest plug I had.

I hopped on a dating app and one guy messaged me. He wasnt far from me about 5 minutes. I already met him a few times but only sucked him till then. We tried anal once but it hurt so we stopped. He has an 19 cm long and 5 cm wide cock.

Well something in me decided that Ill go full whore today. So I took another line, smeared some on my asshole and wrote the following to him:

When I come over I want you to let me suck you hard. Then you tie my hands togheter and tape my mouth shut so that I cannot say stop no matter what.

He instantly said come right now.

So I took another big line covered myself with a hoodie and pants and drove over to him.

I went inside and instantly to the bathroom. I undressed, snorted another big line and felt a bit scared but really horny knowing he is gonna use me like a cheap toy.

My vision was already blurry and I couldnt really think straight anymore. We went to the bedroom and he took of his pants, his cock instantly shot out in my face.

I started to lick his tip and make it wet, I took it in my mouth as far as I could. I gagged and could not breathe but I did not care and neither did he.

He let me suck him a bit until he told me to stand up.

He took the tape I had and started to tie my hands behind my back. Next he taped my mouth shut and pushed me onto the bed.

I laid there unable to fight back, unable to scream or tell him to stop if it hurts. I was so horny and so nervous at the same time. And also I was to high on coke to plan all through in my head.

He climbed on me and slowly took out my plug and pushed it back in a few times. He spat on my hole and on his massive dick. He yanked out the plug and put his tip right on my hole.

He pushed slow and I felt him expanding my ass. He pushed in every inch he could. It felt amazing. Once he was fully in he came to my ear and whispered. Now Im gonna use you like the cheap slut you are until I fill your hole with my cum.

Then It started he began to fuck me like an animal. Every push harder and faster.

It hurt and I wanted to tell him to stop but I couldnt. It hurt it felt like my body was about to break from his massive penis. But somehow it also felt good. I wanted him to go deeper, I wished there would be more guys to use me.

He fucked me for about 30 minutes until he pushed even harder and deeper. I could feel him filling up my sissy ass with hot juicy cum. He stayed in me for a few seconds and then he pulled out. He put my plug back in and untied me.

I put on my clothes and went home but not before he told me to come again.

I got home. Took out the plug and masturbated while licking his cum of it.

Im thinking about going again today and ask him to record or stream ;)

In my senior year of high school, after turning 18, it was like a switch flipped and all I could think of were two things at any moment of the day: sports and guys.  I was a three sport letterman, so at least there was something to absolutely throw myself into each season...and it was good to have that distraction.  

Basketball (winter) was my best sport, and I was the captain of the team.  It was my true passion, but it was also a lot more stressful with the weight of the responsibility -- feeling like you need to carry a team through the season, etc.  That made football (fall) and baseballl (spring) more fun.

Best Teammates

Jake was the quarterback of the football team and the leader on the field and in the locker room.  As his go-to wide receiver, we became exceptionally close, particularly over that last varsity year.  And it wasn't for lack of hard work that we became such an in sync and formidable duo on the field.  He lived a block away from me so we were constantly out in front of his house or mine, or the field nearby, practicing for hours and hours.  

Running the same route over and over again till we got it just right.  Or trying to best our previous "record" for longest completed pass at the very end of a practice session.  I was fast, so I could always get there, but it was fun to see how far he could chuck the ball in a controlled fashion.

I had so much respect for him as a quarterback.  My job was easy...I just had to run a route and chase that ball down.  But I was always in complete awe of the quarterback's craft -- the skill of throwing a perfect pass to an empty spot in the field and knowing your receiver would be at that spot at a precise moment.  And, man, I can't express the absolutely thrilling feeling of making the reception and that bond between the QB and his WR.  During the game, there was no better moment than when Jake would run over and hug me or slap me on my backside after making a reception. 

In the winter, we didn't see much of each other as I was fully immersing myself in basketball.  It sort of reinforced the fact that we were really best teammates, not best friends.  When spring came around, though, it was good to be around him again and the tight bond between us got stronger on the baseball diamond. 

 
His arm went to work as the team's star pitcher, and I got to work one-on-one with him as our catcher.  In baseball, I was able to take a more active role by helping manage our game strategy by calling pitches...very different from the more passive WR role.  I knew each of the pitchers well -- I knew their better and weaker pitches, I knew how long they could stay sharp in a game, and I could tell if/when they were rattled.  I really loved having some of that control when calling pitches, and as the star pitcher, we spent a lot of time working 1-on-1.       

Hottest Guy at School

Jake was objectively hot -- tall, very attractive, great hair, and a perfect smile.  He had that Greek god body, which he worked hard on.  Long torso, kick ass chest, great arms, nice backside...and he had that sexy trail of hair that traveled from his navel down.  He was a little older than all of us (he turned 18 right before the school year started), so that probably gave his body a little head start on the rest of the guys.  No one had a better chest and treasure trail than him, and it was hard not to just want to stare at that.  

Jake was definitely the most sought after guy in the school when it came to the girls.  His prom date was the hottest girl at school, and he was voted homecoming king.  I definitely noticed his hotness and admired his body, but I wasn't really lusting after him sexually earlier in the year.  There are probably a few reasons for that.  First, I was distracted sexually by other guys that I knew at the time and who were all older -- my brother's hot friend (my current bf!) or fantasizing about that certain teacher or coach.  

Or maybe it was because our relationship was more like that of brothers?  Or it might have also been because we took sports too seriously and it was almost like "work."  The stakes were so high for him as he was hoping to get an athletic scholarship to a school and was under so much pressure from his demanding father.   

But now the pressure of athletics was quickly waning, and I could taste the end of high school on my lips.  I could finally start relaxing and enjoying the moment.  And boy was it fun to just have to stare and watch Jake on display on that pitcher's mound for hours on end.  Something was so awesome about how he strutted up onto the mound with confidence.  It felt like no one else was there and like I was watching him move in slow motion or something.  

Getting Horny for Jake

Jake's body filled out his baseball uniform perfectly.  He wore a more tight-fitting, not baggy, one so every feature of his great body was proudly visible.  I swear he was the best dressed one on the squad...a great athletic specimen on display.  

I distinctly remember when he would arch backwards to stretch his arms behind his head, I could see the outline of his dick pressing up against the crotch area of his pants.  It was so hot.  And it was such a huge distraction for me when he would adjust his dick around during the game...sometimes even shoving his hand inside his pants for a bigger readjustment.  I guess it makes sense that guys who are show-ers (not growers) with big soft dicks have to readjust more!  

I would get so fucking hard in those moments. Luckily, as a catcher, I had to wear a hard athletic cup which totally hid my arousal.  Especially since he's already staring at my crotch for my hand signals to him.  It was fun to not have to worry about hiding my raging hard on during games...and it felt good having my dick pressing hard up against that hard cup.  

In the showers after the game, it took a lot for me to ensure I didn't get super hard in there.  He just looked so great completely naked in the shower and I loved getting that view.  His dick seemed so perfect and big when soft, unlike mine.  His would hang down with water pouring down off of it.  When he walked around in the locker room, it would swing back and forth a bit.  I seriously wished there was a world where it was just him and me in there, and I could just drop down to my knees and worship his cock 

Falling for Jake

Graduation finally came and then it was the last hurrah before college.  Those last two months of summer before college were awesome.  Jake and I pretty much spent every waking hour together. Throwing around the ball outside, playing video games, surfing, hiking, etc. 

I don't know if he knew about me and that I was into him, but I would literally get hard when we were hanging out.  When tossing the football around, it probably didn't help that he would lift up his shirt and map out plays on his abs. He had that perfect treasure trail that was constantly taunting my eyes to follow it down. 

We would play video games so late into the night, that we'd end up crashing at each other's places so many nightss.  I loved it when I crashed at his place because it would end up being in his bedroom.  He had a couch in there that I'd crash on, but I'd get a great view of him.  I'd stay fully clothed on the couch, but he'd sleep in just his Under Armour boxer briefs.  

Man was it hot when he'd eventually kick off all the covers at night, leaving him just lying there on his back with his glorious bulge and the rest of his amazing body in full view.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't move in closer for a better look on several occasions while he was still asleep.  I was tempted to reach out and just cop a quick feel or, ever more so, lift up his underwear waistband for a quick peek.  Never did any of that.  He always had morning wood, so I would get so hard looking over at his bulge before he woke up and when he would first get out of bed and walk out.  And sometimes we'd be wrestling around and I could feel his soft dick bulge all over me...even in my face once when he had me pinned down. I would dream about just pulling them down and sucking him off.  

Off to College

We ended up getting really close in a short amount of time those last few months before we headed off to different colleges.  I even decided to come out to him the night before he flew out of town.  I wasn't out in high school, but I was determined to be out from day one in college so that I wouldn't have to hide my true self anymore.  In my last year of HS, I didn't really care anymore if people found out.  But all the hints I'd drop or comments I made on the side went over everyone's heads.  Someone giving me advice online encouraged me to tell people before I left for college, or otherwise I'd burn those bridges or those people wouldn't be a part of my new life/identity.  

Somehow I got the courage and I just told him that last night when we were chatting.  He laughed and punched me as he thought for sure I was making some practical joke.  But he quickly realized when he saw the expression on my face.  He was trying to say it was no big deal, but boy his body language said the total opposite.  It was like he was slowly inching away...LOL.  I left pretty quickly and we did a bro hug.  I was surprised the next morning when he called and said, "You're taking me to the airport, right?"  I'll never forget that...it was his way of letting me know that my revelation didn't change anything. Boy did I want to plant a kiss on him during that last hug at the airport.  

First Summer of College

That first year away for college raced by.  I had a blast in my first year -- it was an all-guys school in the south with horny, hot dudes with no girls around.  So I had a few hot encounters with straight (or bi) guys looking for no strings, discrete blows.  I liked knowing they were getting the best bj they'd ever had.  Like athletics, I was obsessively competitive so I practiced a lot on a dildo because I wanted to become really good at that and to learn how to deepthroat a big dick. 

 
Coming back home for the summer was sort of like backsliding because none of my new college friends lived anywhere nearby.  So the only option was reconnecting with old friends from high school.  Jake reached out even before summer began to ask whether I'd be back and to ask about hanging out.  It was like those last two months before college again where we were pretty inseparable and crashing at each other's places every night.  

The last week of summer vacation, his parents were gone on a cruise, and we had a ton of fun.  It was like two guys in a frat house.  Eating and drinking what we wanted to, staying up to crazy hours, and even holding a party with old high school friends one night.  The night before his parents got back, we just stayed up late drinking whiskey and talking.  He started sharing details about his college hookups and the slutty sorority girls he fucked.  He was just in his boxer briefs and I could see him getting hard.  I was so hard looking at that.  I eventually mentioned what I was up to in college -- and about the straight dudes I sucked off in college.  He was surprised and intrigued.

I'll admit, I was shamelessly trying to get him horny and curious.  I'll laid it on pretty thick about how much better gay guys are at sucking dick b/c they have one.  About deepthroating, swallowing, etc.  How most straight dudes are curious about that if they're man enough to admit it.  I kept emphasizing that it didn't mean they were gay or bi.  We were so drunk and I just didn't care anymore and finally said "I can prove it" and sort of pushed him back on the couch.  He didn't resist and I pulled his underwear halfway down his legs and just went to town on him.  

I still had my shorts on, but damn was I hard having his dick in my mouth finally.  The smell of his crotch was intoxicating, and his dick looked and felt so perfect.  He must have been 7 or 7.5 and average girth, and I tried so hard to give him the best blow he'd ever had.  My heart was racing and I was afraid he'd stop me at any moment...but he didn't.  I just kept sucking away.  I wanted desperately to touch his body all over, but I was too cautious and didn't.  His moans and "jesus christ's and "aw fuck's were encouraging to me and just made me harder and harder.  Finally he was going to cum and I made sure to swallow every last drop of his impressive cum shot.  

I got up to use the bathroom so I could drink some water and also beat off (which didn't take long!).  By the time I was back, his underwear was back on and he was passed out or asleep.  The next morning we didn't talk about it at all and it was like everything was normal.  His parents were back later that day and I was off to head back to college for my 2nd year.   

Second Summer of College

After the 2nd year of college, summer vacation was similar.  Back to my hometown with only old high school friends around.  Jake and I hung out a fair amount again and caught up on our 2nd years of college.  He had more sexual conquests to brag about this time, and he even had a homemade video he made of fucking a chick.  He only showed me the start of the video -- the girl is fully naked while he's just shirtless.  He's making out with her, kissing her breasts, and licking her pussy.  He still has khaki pants on, but they're slipping off revealing a really hot pair of Under Armour striped boxer briefs.  I tell him how hot it is and I even convince him to send me some screencaps.  

Another time he shows me a sexting chain with another girl who is horny af for him.  Naughty pics are exchanged and I see dick pics that he sent and even a j/o video.  I may have had to figure out a way to get my hands on those too.  

One weekend when his parents are away, we end up really drunk and talking throughout the night.  He admits to me that he thinks he might be bi but he won't ever say so publicly b/c everyone assumes that means you're gay.  We talk about it a bit and it's clear that he's really flattered and turned on by dudes being attracted to him and also curious about doing things with dudes.  He admits to getting a few bjs from dudes in college.  

I lay it on thick again like the year before, but this time about how guys can offer up the tightest hole and can tighten up on a dude's cock like nobody else.  I ask him if I can suck him off again and he says yes.  This time my hands are all over his body while my mouth is on him.  I'm rubbing his sexy chest and moving my hand slowly down lower.  Playing with his sexy treasure trail and rubbing it up and down.  He's so drunk and loving it.  I stop to take my clothes off and he reaches over to grab my dick and stroke it a little.  

I'm raving about his body and his dick to him.  How hot I was for him in high school and how I have to admit I've fantasized about him fucking me.  I keep egging him on to experiment and experience the tightest hole and he finally throws me back and gets on top of me.  He grabs my legs and throws them up and over my head.  I feel so vulnerable but I'm so hard.  I hear him say "damn, totally smooth" and I realize he's talking about my butt and asshole.  I suddenly realize he's spitting on my asshole over and over again and before I could process that he's pushing his dick inside of me.  

Holy shit he's fucking me.  I couldn't believe a fantasy was being fulfilled finally.  He seemed good at this...but maybe it's from all the practice he's had messing around with chicks?  He was thrusting so eagerly but also naturally.  It was like he was trying to get in as deep as possible.  

And the noises...damn.  He was grunting so loudly with every thrust and it just sounded so ridiculously hot to hear his masculine grunts.  Occasionally he'd mutter a "fuck yeah" or a "fuck that's tight," which just drove me crazy in the best possible way.  

I was so turned on that I was so rock hard during it all.  Maybe because he was pretty long and hitting my prostate the whole time or maybe I was too aroused by the hot grunts, but I came hands free as he pounded me deeply.  

Immediately after, he pulled out and shot so far.  I was so proud seeing how far his cum shots flew and loved feeling them hit my face.  I got up to clean up and get out of there for a second.  Again he was asleep or passed out by the time I got back.  

The next morning he merely made a mention of keeping what happened totally vaulted and of course I told him he had nothing to worry about.  That was the last time we fucked around.  He's engaged to a gorgeous girl now and I truly believe he's just bi curious but mostly into women.  I can only wonder whether there's another encounter to happen down the road.  

Even tho I am not into bro/bro play unless its other brother lol, me & my twin bro use to mess around when we were much yunger. Didnt kno what we were doin and it never got to actual contact, we would dry hump each other & pretend we were havin sex (got exposed to sexual stuff early on). Dad & his friends would make fun of him cuz he was more sensitive then me & would think he was goin to be gay. I would try to look at my uncles, dad & his friends fuckin girls (dad would cheat on mom) and try to watch them & touch them while they would sleep. Even tho I was yunger, dont think they thought too much into it (they all been in prison/jail for no less than a yr before).Did it to a cousin (another story) but I ended up the gay one & my bro has kids & a wife, although I think he is secretly bi. A few times I got scared, maybe too nervous at older guys wantin to do sumthin or callin my bluff. I told my mom once and she bitched at my dad & it never happened again with him

Then he grabbed my hips and lifted me off him like I weighed nothing and threw me back down on my stomach in the wet spot.

I barely had time to gasp before he was on top of me. He spread my legs with his knees, laid his whole heavy body down along my back, and drove his cock back into me. All of his weight pushed me down into the mattress. His hairy chest was plastered to my sweaty back. His breath was hot on my neck. I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything at all but lie there and take it.

He fucked me flat, his hips pounding down into my ass, burying my face in my pillow and my cock against the sheets. It was the most helpless I'd ever felt in my life.

"Clock," he grunted in my ear.

"T-twelve... thirty... eight..."

"Fifty-some minutes on my dick." He laughed, breathless. "And look at you. Still beggin' for it. You're a fuckin' cumdump in training, you know that, faggot?"

"Yes sir... yes... please..."

"Please what?"

"Please let me cum... please, please, I can't..."

"Please let me cum, sir. Please. I'll do anything."

"You already are doin' anything." He laughed against my neck, low and mean, and gave me three hard, deep strokes that drove the breath out of me. "Look at you. Flat on your belly, face in your pillow, fuckin' your own sheets with that little dick 'cause it's the only thing you're allowed to rub it on. That's what you are now, Jakey. A desperate little bitch."

"Yes sir..."

"Say it."

"I'm a desperate little bitch, sir... please..."

He stopped moving.

He stayed buried in me, all of him, his weight crushing me into the mattress, his hairy chest heaving against my back. I could feel his heart hammering through my ribs. For a second I thought he was going to make me wait more. I thought I might actually start sobbing for real.

Then he hooked his arm under my chest and hauled me up.

He pulled me straight up off the mattress with his cock still inside me, until I was kneeling upright on the bed with my back plastered against his front, my knees spread wide over his, sitting all the way down on his dick. The new angle shoved him so deep I saw stars.

"Hhhhaaaaaahhhh... ohhh fuck... ohhh fuck, sir..."

"There you go." His arm wrapped tight across my chest like a seatbelt, his big hand clamped on my pec, holding me up and holding me still. His mouth was right at my ear. "Now. You wanna cum, Jakey?" His emphasis on my name felt caring and domineering at the same time.

"Yes sir!"

"Then you're gonna cum on my dick. You ain't touchin' yourself. I'm touchin' you. You understand? That load belongs to me same as the rest of you."

"Yes Tom. Yes sir, please..."

His other hand slid down my sweaty stomach, through the mess of precum smeared all over my belly, and wrapped around my cock.

"OHHHHH..."

His fist swallowed me. His palm was rough and callused from twenty years of busted knuckles and engine blocks, and he gripped me tight and slow, from the root all the way up, squeezing a fat bead of precum out of the tip and smearing it back down with his thumb.

Then he started fucking up into me again.

He drove his hips up off his heels, short, hard, deep, every stroke slamming the fat head of his cock right into that spot, and his fist jerked me in time with it. Up into me. Down on my dick. Up. Down. Up. Down. He bounced me on his lap like I weighed nothing, and every time I came down, I came down onto his fist and his cock at the same time.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Uhhh! Ahhhh!"

Smack. Smack. Smack.

"Look down," he growled. "Look at it. Look at your little dick in my hand."

I looked down. His huge hairy forearm was flexing across my stomach, his fist pumping my cock, the head poking out the top of it red and swollen and drooling all over his knuckles. Behind me I could feel his balls slapping up against my ass every time he thrust.

"Look how small it is in my hand," he said. "Cute. That's a pussyboy dick. Ain't ever gonna get used for nothin' but leakin' while a real man fucks you."

"Ohhh God... fuck Tom..."

"You gonna cum for me?"

"Yes... yes sir... I'm close, I'm so close..."

"Then cum, bitch. Cum on your dad's buddy's dick. Cum all over the bed you sleep in."

He slammed up into me and squeezed my cock and twisted his fist over the head, and that was it.

"AHHH FUCK! SIR! TOM! OHHH GOD, OHHH GOD, I'M CUMMING!"

It tore out of me. I'd been on the edge so long that it didn't feel like cumming. It felt like something breaking open. My whole body seized up around his cock, my pussy clamping down so hard he cursed, and my dick erupted in his fist. The first shot went so high it hit me in the chin. The next one splattered across my chest. Then another and another, pumping out of me in long, thick ropes that splashed all over my pillow and my headboard and my sheets, and he kept jerking me through every one of them, milking it out of me, his cock still grinding into that spot until I thought I was going to pass out.

"Hhhuuuuhhh... uhhhh... uhh... ah..."

"That's it. Give it to me. All of it. Every fuckin' drop."

He squeezed one last fat glob out of the tip with his thumb and let it drip onto the sheet. I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering. My pussy kept spasming around him, little aftershocks, squeezing and fluttering, and every time it did, he groaned into my neck.

"Holy fuck," he breathed. "Holy fuck, Jakey. You just about milked me dry with that pussy."

I couldn't talk. I just sagged back against him, limp, gasping, my cum dripping off my chin and running down my chest.

He brought his hand up in front of my face. It was coated. My cum was dripping off his fingers, strung between them, pooled in his palm.

"Clean it."

I didn't even hesitate. I opened my mouth, and he shoved his fingers in, and I sucked my own load off him. It tasted different than his. Thinner. Sweeter. I licked between his fingers and lapped his palm clean while he watched me over my shoulder, breathing hard against my ear.

"Good faggot," he whispered. "Now it's my turn."

He shoved me forward.

I fell face first onto the pillow, right into my own cum, and before I could even catch myself, he grabbed my hips and yanked my ass back up into the air. He didn't go slow anymore. He didn't ease into me. He gripped my hips so hard I knew there'd be bruises, and he started fucking me like he was trying to put his cock through the mattress.

The air caught in my lungs at his assault on my hole. "AHH! AHHH!"

"Shut up and take it!"

SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK.

It was so much harder than before. Now that I'd cum, everything was a hundred times more sensitive, and every stroke over that spot inside me felt like being electrocuted, too much, way too much, and I was clawing at the sheets and crying into my cum-soaked pillow and pushing my ass back at him anyway.

"Fuckin' take it," he grunted, every word a thrust. "Take it. Your pussy's mine. You hear me, faggot? Mine!"

"Yours! It's yours! It's yours!"

"Whose bitch are you?"

"Yours, sir! I'm your bitch!"

"Fuckin' right you are. And I'm gonna fill you up. Gonna breed this little cherry pussy so deep you'll be leakin' me for a week."

The headboard was slamming the wall. Bam. Bam. Bam. Bam. Something fell off my shelf. Sweat dripped off him onto my back like rain. His breathing went ragged, then turned into this deep animal grunting, and I could feel his cock swelling inside me, getting even thicker, even harder, throbbing against my walls.

The clock said 12:44.

He'd been fucking me for almost an hour.

"Here it comes," he gasped. "Here it comes, Jakey. I'm going to claim his pussy like I claimed your mouth. Fuck, here it fuckin' comes..."

He slammed in one last time, buried himself all the way to the root, grabbed my hips and dragged me back onto him so hard my knees came off the bed.

"FUUUUUCK! UNNNGHHH! TAKE MY FUCKIN' LOAD!"

I felt it.

Oh God, I felt it. His cock jerked inside me, and I felt the heat of it, this hot wet flood blasting deep up inside my guts. Then again. And again. Every pulse of his dick pushed more of him into me. He was grinding into me in slow tight circles while he unloaded, like he was trying to push it even deeper, like he wanted to make sure not a drop of it went to waste.

"Uhhh... uhhh... fuck... fuck, that's it... take all of my cum faggot..."

"I can feel it... I can feel you..."

"Good. Feel it. That's me in you now. This pussy's..." He gave one more weak thrust, and one more pulse twitched out of him.

"...mine."

He collapsed on top of me.

All two hundred and something pounds of him came down on my back and flattened me into the wet sheets, his cock still lodged deep inside me, his face mashed into the back of my neck. Neither of us moved. Neither of us said anything. We just lay there, panting, sweating, his chest pressed against my back and both of our hearts going like jackhammers.

The ceiling fan clicked around. The lawnmower down the street had stopped. Somewhere outside, a bird was singing like nothing in the whole world had happened.

I don't know how long we lay there. Long enough for my breathing to slow down. Long enough for his cock to soften inside me, slowly, until it finally slid out on its own with a soft, wet shhhlp. I felt a warm trickle follow it right away, running out of me and down over my balls onto the sheet.

"Don't you push that out," he mumbled into my neck. "Clench."

I tightened my pussy as best I could. Fuck. My pussy... not my hole anymore...

He rolled off me onto his back with a heavy groan, and the whole bed bounced. I stayed where I was, face down, my cheek in a cold wet spot on my pillow I didn't want to think about.

And slowly, like waking up from a dream, I came back.

It was a weird feeling. For the last hour, my whole world had been his voice and his cock and the next thing he told me to do. Now there was space in my head again, and all the normal stuff came rushing back into it at once. My sheets were soaked. My room smelled like a locker room. There was cum on my headboard. My ass hurt. My throat hurt. My hat was somewhere behind my bed. Mrs. Patterson was gardening just down the street from my open window.

And Tom was lying naked next to me in my bed.

Tom. Who coached my T-ball team. Who taught me to change a tire. Who was going to be at the Fourth of July barbecue next month, standing at the grill next to my dad, with pictures of his cock in my ass on his phone.

"Oh my God," I said into the pillow.

Tom laughed. It was his normal laugh, the big easy one, which somehow made it worse.

"There he is."

I rolled over onto my side, wincing as my ass twinged, and looked at him. He was lying on his back with one arm tucked behind his head, his hairy stomach rising and falling with clenched abs, his soft dick lying fat and wet against his thigh. He looked completely relaxed. He looked like he'd just finished mowing a lawn.

"Tom," I said. "Did we... I mean... what did we just..."

"Sir."

I stopped.

He didn't say it loud. He didn't even look at me. He just said it, flat, to the ceiling, the same way you'd correct a kid who said "ain't."

"I... we finished, though," I said. "Sorry, I mean, I just thought..."

He turned his head on the pillow and looked at me, and I stopped talking.

"You thought when I came, it was over," he said. "You thought you'd get your old Uncle Tom back. That we'd both just get dressed, and I'd go home, and we'd never talk about it, and next time I came over for football I'd mess up your hair and ask about school."

I didn't say anything. That was exactly what I'd thought.

"That ain't how this works, boy." He reached over and put his hand on the back of my neck. It wasn't rough. He just put it there, warm and heavy, and his thumb rubbed slow behind my ear. "You think I'd wait with a shower enema in my truck for three weeks for one afternoon? As soon as your dad told me you came out as gay, I pieced together what you were. You always following around your coaches, doing your best to please the adult men in the room. Your face would go red every time a guy took off his shirt at the lake." His thumb kept moving. "Today wasn't me gettin' lucky. Today was me collecting what's mine."

My throat was tight. "What about my dad?"

"What about him?"

"If he finds out..."

"He ain't gonna find out. Not unless I want him to. He will always be you dad, just like now I'll always be your daddy." His grip tightened just a little. "And that's another thing that's mine to decide now. Not yours."

"And the... the pictures, sir...?"

I didn't even notice I'd said it. Sir. It just came out. I saw him notice, though. That slow grin spread over his face.

"Look at that. Don't even need remindin' anymore." He let go of my neck and reached over me to the nightstand, his big hairy arm dragging across my chest, and picked up his phone. He thumbed it open and held it up so we could both see.

There I was.

It was a photo, taken from right above. My hands were holding my own cheeks open, my fingers pale where they were digging in, and his cock was buried in me all the way to the root, his dark bush mashed right up against my spread ass. You couldn't see my face. You could see my back, and the blue of my sheets, and the edge of my pillow, and the little Bulldogs logo on the pillowcase my aunt bought me when I got into State.

He swiped. Another one, the head just pushed in, my rim stretched pink and shiny and tight around it.

He swiped again, and it was the video. He hit play without asking me.

His cock, sliding out slow. My rim clinging to it. Then sliding back in, inch by inch, and my voice, high and broken and tinny through the phone speaker:

"It's... it's a pussy, sir..."

"Whose pussy?"

"Yours! It's your pussy, sir!"

I made a sound I'd never made before and shoved my face into the pillow.

Tom laughed so hard the bed shook.

"Oh, I'm gonna get some mileage outta that one." He paused the video and tapped the screen, and I heard it whoosh. "Private folder. Locked. Nobody sees it but me. That's the moment I took what's mine, and I'm keepin' it forever. Some guys frame their first deer. I got that."

"What if somebody sees it?"

"Nobody's gonna see it, 'cause I ain't showin' it to nobody. You're my faggot, Jakey. I don't share." He set the phone face down on his chest. "As long as you keep bein' a good boy, that's just for me to jerk off to when you ain't around. Got it?"

As long as you keep bein' a good boy.

He said it so casual. He didn't make it sound like a threat. But it sat in my stomach right next to his load, warm and heavy, and I couldn't tell anymore if the twist in my gut was fear or something else.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good boy." He slapped my ass, hard, right on the bruised spot, and I yelped. Then he sat up and swung his legs off the bed. "Now go get your jock."

"My jock?"

"Your jock. The one you left on the bathroom floor like a slob. Go get it and put it on."

I blinked at him. "Shouldn't I... I mean, shouldn't I shower first?"

He turned around on the edge of the bed and looked at me, and his face did that thing again, the flat patient look, like he was waiting for me to hear what I'd just said.

"You ain't showerin'."

"But I'm..."

"You're covered in my sweat and your own cum and you got my load in your pussy." He shrugged. "Yeah. That's the point, faggot. You ain't washin' me off. Not today. You don't wash me off till I say you do."

My face went hot again. Under it, my cock gave a weak, sore twitch against my thigh, which was impossible. I'd just cum harder than I'd ever cum in my life.

"Go on. Get the jock. And take a piss while you're in there, 'cause you ain't gonna get another chance for a while." He stood up and stretched, his arms way up over his head, and his whole body pulled tight, his hairy pits wide open, his soft cock swinging. "Clench the whole time. If I see a drop of my load on that bathroom floor, you're lickin' it up."

"Yes, sir."

I got off the bed slow. My legs felt like wet noodles, and my ass ached deep inside, a hot stretched throb that I felt every time I moved. I walked down the hall bow-legged, clenching so hard my cheeks hurt, holding his cum inside me like he told me to.

Behind me I heard my bed creak as he stood up, and then I heard the soft scrape of my dresser drawer sliding open.

He must be looking for a towel or one of my t-shirts to wipe his dick off. I was thinking about my ass, and the stinging spank marks on it, and the fact that I'd just been fucked for over an hour by a man who used to buy me Slurpees after T-ball.

The bathroom was a mess. There was water all over the floor and the tub, the lube bottle sitting tipped over on the counter, the shower shot hose still coiled in the tub like a silver snake. His towel was lying in a damp heap where I'd dropped it. His shorts were wadded in the corner next to the hamper. My jockstrap was right where I'd stepped out of it, a crumpled little pile of white cotton and elastic, the pouch still stiff and yellowed from all the precum I'd soaked into it that morning.

I sat down on the toilet and pissed, slow, my cock so sore and sensitive that it stung a little. I kept my hole clenched the whole time, which was harder than it sounds. When I was done, I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror again.

I looked wrecked.

My hair was sweaty and flattened. My lips were swollen and chapped. My chin was crusted with dried cum, and there was more of it dried in streaks across my chest. There were red finger marks on my hips, and a pink bite mark on my shoulder, and a beard burn on my neck. When I turned around and looked over my shoulder, both my ass cheeks were blotchy and red with the outlines of his hand.

I looked used.

I looked like his.

I picked up my jock and stepped into it and pulled it up. The pouch was cold and clammy where it had dried, and when it closed around my sore balls and soft dick, I let out a little whimper. The straps framed my ass, pushing it up, and I could feel the cool air against my well-fucked hole.

I stood there for a second longer than I needed to.

Then I went back down the hall.

My bedroom was empty.

I stopped in the doorway. The sheets were a wrecked, twisted, soaking mess, the pillow stained dark where my face had been, a drying white streak of my cum running down the slats of the headboard. My comforter was still in a heap on the floor. The dresser drawers were all shut. His phone was gone from the nightstand. So were his shorts, which had been lying on the floor by the closet since round one.

He wasn't there.

"Tom?" I said. Then quieter, because it felt wrong. "Sir?"

Nothing.

For one awful second I thought he'd left. I thought that was it, that he'd gotten what he wanted and walked out the front door, and I'd be standing here in my cum-stiff jockstrap with my ass full of his load forever. My heart jumped into my throat.

Then I heard the side door downstairs bang shut, and the slap of the big trash can lid out by the garage, and heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

Tom walked in barefoot, in nothing but his shortss, the waistband hanging low enough that his bush showed above the zipper. He was wiping his hands off on his thighs.

"Where'd you go?" I asked.

"Out." He walked right past me without explaining, picked my backpack up off my desk chair, and dumped it upside down. The book I was reading hit the carpet with a thud. My laptop charger. A half-eaten bag of pretzels. Three pens and a crumpled parking pass for State orientation.

"Hey..."

He tossed the empty backpack at my chest. I caught it.

"Pack your shit, boy. Whatever you need for the night. You're sleepin' over."

"Sleeping over? At your place?"

"Did I say my place?" He grinned. "I said you're sleepin' over. Toothbrush. Phone charger. Your wallet. Your meds if you got any. Whatever you need that you can't live without for a night or two."

"A night or two?"

"Your dad is gone for the week til Sunday night, right? He told me himself. Asked me to keep an eye on you." His grin got wider. "So I'm keepin' an eye on you."

I stared at him. My mind went straight to my dad's voice at breakfast on Friday morning, cheerful, pulling his cooler out to the truck: Tom'll check in on you, bud. Call him if you need anything.

He sure was checking in.

"Okay," I said. "Okay. Let me just grab some clothes and..."

"Nope."

I looked at him.

"You don't need clothes," he said, like it was obvious. "Where you're goin', you won't be wearin' 'em."

"But... I... what am I supposed to wear to get there?"

He looked me up and down, slow. My bare chest with the dried cum still crusted on it. My bruised hips. The dingy pouch of my jock. My bare legs. Then he bent over, reached behind my bed, fished around for a second, and came up with my backwards hat. He brushed a dust bunny off it and set it on my head himself, adjusted it, and tugged the bill down at the back of my neck so it sat just right.

"That," he said. "That's what you're wearin'."

"I can't..."

"You can, bitch."

"But... daddy... the neighbors... Mrs. Patterson's out front, you said so..."

"Yep." He crossed his arms over his chest. "And you're gonna walk right past her."

My stomach dropped through the floor. My dick throbbed in my pouch. Both at the same time. I didn't know which one I hated more.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, sir. Just a pair of shorts. Just let me..."

"You know what you sound like right now?" he said. "You sound like a pussy. And you know what, you got one. You got a sopping wet pussy full of my cum right now. That's what you are, Jakey, a pussyboy. And a pussyboy don't get to decide what he wears." He stepped in close. I could smell him again, sweat and sex and his pits, and my knees went weak all over again. "You got about five minutes to fill that backpack, or I'm walkin' you out there without the hat, too."

I packed.

My hands were shaking. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, my phone charger, my wallet, my phone. I stood in front of my dresser with my hand on the top drawer, thinking about grabbing one pair of boxers, one, just to have them, just in case, and I looked back over my shoulder and saw him leaning in the doorway watching me with his arms crossed and one eyebrow up.

I took my hand off the drawer.

"Good boy," he said.

I zipped the backpack and pulled it onto my shoulders. The straps sat right on my bare skin. Then I followed him down the stairs, still clenching, each step sending a little throb up through my ass.

At the bottom of the stairs, right by the front door, he stopped and turned around.

"One more thing." He pulled his phone out of his back pocket. "Turn around. Bend over."

"Sir..."

"Bend over, fag."

I turned around and bent over and grabbed my ankles right there in my front hallway, under the family photo of me and Dad at Disney World when I was twelve, the backpack sliding forward onto the back of my neck. He hooked a finger under my jock strap and tugged it aside, even though it wasn't really in the way, and I felt his thumb press right against my hole. I was so sore I hissed.

"Push out," he said. "Just a little."

I pushed. I felt it right away, warm, a slow thick trickle, his load easing out of me and starting to run down toward my balls.

Ch-chk.

"There we go. Cherry pussy, all bred and leakin'." Ch-chk. "Okay. Clench it back up. That's all you get to lose. Rest stays in."

I clenched. He scooped the drip off my taint with his finger and held it in front of my face, and I sucked it off without being told.

"Fuckin' learnin'," he said, almost proud. Then he opened the front door.

The sunlight hit me like a slap.

It was one in the afternoon on a Saturday in June, and the whole neighborhood was out. I could hear a sprinkler going somewhere. Somebody's radio playing country. Kids shrieking on a trampoline farther up the street. The air was hot and smelled like cut grass, my own cut grass, from this morning, from back when I was just Jake.

Tom walked out first, barefoot, his shorts loose and tank top in his hand, totally unbothered. He walked down the steps and stood on the front walk and turned around and waited.

I stood in the doorway.

My whole body was shaking. My hands were gripping the backpack straps so hard my knuckles had gone white. My face was on fire.

"Come on, Jakey." He didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. "Don't make me come get you."

I stepped out onto the porch.

The concrete was hot under my bare feet. The breeze hit my exposed ass, my bare hole, and I knew that from the street, from the sidewalk, from anywhere, anybody could see me. Straps and nothing. Red handprints and bruises. My jock pouch hanging there, stained and filthy, everything I had barely held in by a little triangle of dingy cotton.

I went down the steps.

I walked down the front walk, past the flower bed my mom planted, onto the grass I'd just mowed. Tom fell in beside me, slow, matching my pace, one big hand resting on the back of my neck like he was walking a dog.

"Chin up," he said. "Let 'em look."

Up the short street of our cul-de-sac, Mrs. Patterson was kneeling in her flower bed in her big floppy sun hat with a trowel in her hand. She was facing her roses. She didn't look up.

"Afternoon, Barb!" Tom called.

My heart stopped.

She looked up. She shaded her eyes with her gardening glove. She looked right at us, Tom with his hairy, muscular torso gleaming in sweat in his loose shorts and me in my jockstrap and backwards hat and backpack, cum crusted on my chin.

"Afternoon, Tom!" She waved her trowel. "Hot one, huh?"

"Scorcher!" he called back. "Takin' the kid to the lake! Gonna get him all sunburnt!"

"Well, you two have fun!"

She went back to her roses.

I didn't breathe again until we were past the end of my driveway. I don't know if she didn't see. I don't know if she didn't have her glasses on. I don't know if she saw everything and just didn't care, or if she'd gone straight in to call my mother. I'll never know. I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering in the ninety-degree heat.

And my dick was so hard it was poking straight out of the top of the pouch.

Tom looked down at it and laughed.

"Look at that. Little exhibitionist faggot I see." He squeezed the back of my neck. "You fuckin' loved that."

"I didn't," I said, and I sounded like I was about to cry.

"Your dick says different."

Tom's house was just next door, a pretty typical two-story house and his big black F-250 parked in the driveway, the tailgate still dusty from whatever job site he'd been on Friday. I'd been in that house a hundred times. Super Bowl parties. Poker nights with my dad where I'd sit on the arm of the couch and he'd let me hold his cards. I'd never once walked up to it in a jockstrap with a man's cum leaking out of me.

It felt like two miles to go not even a hundred feet.

Then we were on his lawn, and up his front walk, and he was punching the code into his door lock, and I was standing on his welcome mat with my ass hanging out to the whole street, waiting on him like a dog waiting to be let in.

The door swung open. Cool air from his AC rushed out over my sweaty chest. I almost cried from relief.

"Stay," he said.

I stopped.

"Right there. On the mat." He stepped inside and looked back at me. "I'll be two minutes. You don't come in, you don't sit down, you don't cover nothin' up. You stand there with your hands on those straps and you wait for me like a good little bitch."

"Sir, please, somebody's gonna..."

"Then somebody's gonna see a faggot in a jockstrap waitin' on his man." He shut the door in my face.

I stood there.

It was the longest two minutes of my life. The sun beat down on my bare shoulders and my bare ass. Sweat trickled down my spine and ran right into my crack, stinging my sore, swollen rim. A car went by on the street behind me. I heard it slow down. I heard it speed back up. I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped my backpack straps and clenched my hole as tight as I could, his load sloshing warm and heavy inside me, and my dick stayed so hard it ached the whole time.

Behind the door I could hear him moving around. Drawers. A closet. Something heavy getting dragged. The fridge opening and closing. The clink of glass bottles.

When the door finally swung back open, he had a big black duffel bag over one shoulder and a cooler in his other hand, and he'd put a t-shirt on. Just a plain gray one, sleeves cut off, his hairy arms sticking out. He swapped out another pair of athletic shorts now. He had a pair of beat-up work boots on his feet. His keys were hooked on one finger.

He was dressed. I wasn't.

That was the point. I knew it was the point. It still made my face burn.

"Truck," he said, and walked right past me.

I followed him down the steps to the driveway. He tossed the duffel in the back seat of the cab, and it landed with a heavy thunk. He set the cooler on the floor behind the driver's seat. Then he walked around and opened the passenger door for me, like a gentleman, like it was a date.

"In you go, pussyboy."

I took off my backpack and climbed up into the cab. The leather seat had been baking in the sun all morning, and when my bare ass hit it, I yelped and practically jumped back out.

"Fuck! It's hot."

Tom laughed so hard he had to lean on the door.

"Sit down."

"It's burning, sir..."

"Sit. Down."

I sat. I bit my lip and lowered myself all the way down onto that scorching black leather, and the heat bit into my red, spanked cheeks and pressed right up against my sore hole, and I sat there whimpering with my backpack hugged against my chest. He watched me the whole time. Then he reached in and pulled the backpack out of my arms and tossed it on the floor at my feet.

"Nope. Ain't hidin' behind that. Hands on your thighs."

I put my hands on my thighs. My cock was standing straight up in the pouch, the tip poking out over the waistband, wet and red and right there in the sunlight for anybody walking by to see.

"Good faggot." He shut the door.

He walked around the front of the truck and climbed in behind the wheel, and the whole cab rocked under his weight. He started it up. The engine roared, deep and loud, and the AC blasted hot air in my face before it slowly started to cool. He backed out of his driveway with one arm slung over the back of my seat, looking over his shoulder, and his fingers brushed the back of my neck on the way.

We rolled down our street. Right past my house. My freshly cut grass. My bedroom window on the second floor, still wide open, the curtains moving a little in the breeze, my wrecked sheets right on the other side of it.

Mrs. Patterson looked up from her roses again and waved.

Tom honked twice and waved back.

I sank down in my seat so far I was practically on the floor mat.

"Sit up," he said, not even looking at me.

I sat up.

We turned out of the neighborhood onto Route 9, and he opened it up, the big engine growling, the trees and mailboxes whipping by. Every time we passed another car, I felt my whole body go rigid. Every pickup that pulled up beside us at a light, every minivan, every SUV sitting up high enough to look down into the cab. At the light by the Walgreens, a guy in a landscaping truck pulled up right next to my window and glanced over, and I stared straight ahead through the windshield with my heart trying to punch its way out of my chest. I don't know if he saw. Tom did. Tom grinned and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Sir," I finally said, when the light turned green and we pulled ahead. My voice came out tiny. "Where are we going?"

"The lake. Nobody around for miles. Nobody to hear you."

Nobody to hear you.

He said it the same way he'd said "Afternoon, Barb." Easy. Friendly. His thumb rubbed little circles on the inside of my thigh.

"What's in the bag?" I asked.

He didn't answer. He just smiled at the road and turned the radio up.

I turned back around fast and stared at the dashboard.

I thought about my phone in the backpack at my feet. I thought about how easy it would be to text my dad. I thought about how I wouldn't, and how both of us knew I wouldn't. I thought about my bed back home, soaking wet and stinking of him, and how I was going to have to sleep on it Sunday night. I thought about the pictures on his phone. I thought about the word "pussy," and how it didn't even sound weird to me anymore.

Tom's hand slid up my leg. His fingers slipped under the edge of my pouch and wrapped around my balls and squeezed, firm, just enough to make me gasp.

"Hhhn..."

"Still leakin' my load into my seat, fag?"

I could feel it. A warm, slick little wetness spreading under me on the leather. I'd been clenching so long my ass was cramping.

"...Yes, sir."

"That's alright." He gave my balls one more squeeze and let go, patted my thigh twice, the way he'd pat the dash of his truck after it started up on a cold morning. "Gonna be a lot more of it by tomorrow."

He hit the turn signal. Click. Click. Click.

We left Route 9 behind and swung onto a narrow county road I'd only been down a few times, and the houses got farther apart, and then there weren't any houses at all, just cornfields and trees and the long gray strip of road shimmering in the heat ahead of us. Tom cranked the radio louder, rolled his window down, and hung his hairy elbow out of it, singing along off-key to some old Alan Jackson song like it was any other Saturday afternoon.

I sat beside him in my jockstrap and my backwards hat with my hands on my thighs, his cum seeping out of me into the leather, my dick throbbing against my stomach, and I watched the road unroll in front of us into nowhere.

All characters are 18+ and fully consenting...

~

I was sitting on the back porch of my parents’ place in Ohio, beer going warm in my hand, scrolling through nothing, when the phone buzzed.

Landed. Pick me up?

Three years. Three fucking years since Logan shipped out. We’d been best friends since sophomore year of high school... same football team, same dumb parties, same late-night drives where we’d talk about everything except the one thing that sat between us like a live wire. I’d driven him to the airport the day he left. He’d hugged me hard, clapped my back, and said, “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone, asshole.” I’d laughed it off and watched him walk away in that uniform that made him look like someone else.

I typed back On my way and grabbed my keys before I could talk myself out of it.

The airport was the usual chaos. I spotted him the second he came through the doors... taller somehow, broader in the shoulders, hair cut tighter, that same crooked half-smile that used to make the girls lose their minds. He saw me and the smile got wider. He dropped his duffel and pulled me into a hug that knocked the air out of my lungs. He smelled like something sharper underneath, like he’d been living in places that didn’t smell like Ohio.

“Jesus, man,” he said against my ear. “You got soft.”

“Fuck you. I’ve been hitting the gym.”

He laughed, that low rough sound, and squeezed harder before letting go. His hand stayed on the back of my neck for a second longer than it needed to. I felt it all the way down my spine.

We loaded his bag into the trunk of my truck and headed toward his parents’ house on the edge of town. The radio played some country song neither of us was listening to. He talked about the heat over there, the food, the guys in his unit. I told him about the job I hated and the girl I’d dated for six months who left because I was “emotionally unavailable.” He snorted.

“You always were,” he said. “Even in high school.”

I glanced over. He was looking out the window, jaw working like he was chewing on something.

“You good?” I asked.

He was quiet for a stretch of road. Then he said, “I’m better now that I’m here.”

The way he said it sat heavy in the cab. I didn’t push.

His parents were out of town for the week... some anniversary trip they’d planned months ago... so the house was empty when we pulled into the driveway. The same blue house with the cracked front steps and the basketball hoop that still leaned a little left. Logan stood on the porch for a second just looking at it, then unlocked the door with the key he still had.

Inside smelled like his mom’s lemon cleaner and old wood. He dropped his bag in the hallway and headed straight for the fridge, pulling out two beers like he’d never left. We ended up on the back deck as the sun went down, feet up on the railing, talking the way we used to... easy, overlapping, finishing each other’s sentences.

Somewhere around the third beer the conversation slowed. Crickets started up. Logan stretched his arms over his head and the hem of his T-shirt rode up, showing a hard strip of stomach and the edge of a scar I didn’t recognize.

“You got quiet,” he said.

“Just thinking.”

“Oohhh… that’s dangerous.”

I smirked. “About how different you look.”

He turned his head. The porch light caught the side of his face. “Different how?”

“Bigger. Harder. Like the Army sanded you down.”

He laughed under his breath. “You always did notice shit like that.”

The air between us changed. I felt it in my chest first, then lower. I took another swallow of beer and kept my eyes on the dark yard.

Logan set his bottle down. “Remember senior year? That night after the championship game?”

My stomach flipped. Of course I remembered. We’d gotten fucked up on cheap whiskey in his basement. He’d put his hand on my thigh and left it there while we talked about nothing. I’d almost leaned in. Almost. Then his dad came downstairs and the moment broke.

“Yeah,” I said. “I remember.”

“I thought about that a lot over there.”

I looked at him. He was watching me like he was waiting to see if I’d bolt.

“You did?”

“Every time things got quiet. Every time I needed something to hold onto that wasn’t sand and blood and the next mission. I’d think about that night and how close we got and how I was too chicken-shit to do anything about it.”

My mouth went dry. “Logan... ”

“I’m not chicken-shit anymore.”

He said it quiet, but it landed like a punch. I set my beer down carefully because my hands had started to shake. He stood up, took the two steps to my chair, and looked down at me. For a long second neither of us moved. Then he reached out, grabbed the front of my shirt, and pulled me up.

The kiss wasn’t soft. It was three years of held-back want slamming into the present. His mouth was hot and tasted like beer and the mint gum he’d been chewing earlier. His hands went to my waist and yanked me flush against him so I could feel how hard he already was. I made a sound I didn’t recognize and opened for him, tongue sliding against his. He groaned into my mouth and walked me backward until my shoulders hit the sliding glass door.

“Inside,” he muttered. “Now.”

We barely made it. The door slid shut behind us and he had me against the kitchen counter, mouth on my neck, hands under my shirt, dragging it up and off. His palms were rough, calloused from years of work I couldn’t imagine. He scraped them down my sides and I shivered hard.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he said against my collarbone. “Been thinking about this skin… this body…. About how you’d sound.”

I got his shirt off next. The body underneath was all hard lines and muscle packed tight, a few new scars, a dusting of hair that trailed down into his jeans. I ran my hands over his hard chest and he pushed into the touch like he’d been starving for it.

We made it to the stairs somehow, kissing and cursing and pulling at clothes. His childhood bedroom still had the same twin bed, the same posters, the same faint smell of laundry detergent and teenage boy that never quite left. He kicked the door shut and shoved me toward the bed.

I sat and he stood between my knees, looking down at me with eyes that had gone dark. He thumbed the button of my jeans open, dragged the zipper down, and pulled everything south until my cock sprang free, already leaking. He stared for a second like he was committing it to memory, then wrapped his hand around it and stroked once, slow.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “Look at you.”

I reached for his belt. He let me. The second his cock was out I forgot how to breathe. Thick, heavy, flushed dark at the tip, the kind of cock that looked like it would wreck a person and leave them grateful. I leaned in and took the head into my mouth without thinking. The taste of him flooded my tongue... clean skin and salt and pure Logan. He hissed and threaded his fingers into my hair.

“Fuck, yeah. Just like that. Take it.”

I did. I worked him deeper, tongue flat along the underside, cheeks hollowed, the wet sounds loud in the quiet room. He kept talking, voice low and rough, telling me how good my mouth felt, how many times he’d jerked off thinking about this exact thing, how he was going to fuck my throat until I choked on it. Every word made my cock jump against my stomach.

He pulled me off with a wet pop when I started to gag around him. Spit connected my lips to his cock. He wiped it with his thumb and pushed it back into my mouth. I sucked it clean.

“Get on the bed,” he said. “On your back. Legs open.”

I scrambled up. He stripped the rest of the way and climbed on after me, kneeling between my thighs. He spit into his palm and slicked his cock, then reached lower and rubbed the wetness over my hole. The first press of his finger made me jolt. He worked it in slow, watching my face the whole time.

“Breathe,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

One finger became two. He scissored them, stretched me open, crooked them until he found the spot that made my vision white out. I was panting, cock leaking a steady string onto my stomach, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Please,” I heard myself say. “Logan, please just... ”

“I know what you need… Patience Ryan”

He pulled his fingers free, lined up, and pushed in.

The burn was immediate… Goddd… He went slow, inch by thick inch, until his hips were flush against my ass and I felt stretched around him like I was made for it. He stayed still, forehead pressed to mine, breathing hard.

“Fuck, you’re tight.. Ryan... So fucking tight around me.”

“Move,” I begged. “Please move.”

He did. Long, deep strokes that dragged over that spot every time. The twin bed creaked under us. His hands pinned my wrists above my head and he fucked me like he’d been saving three years of need for this exact moment. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. I moaned every time he bottomed out, the sound punched out of me.

“You take it so good,” he growled against my mouth. “Look at you. Best friend’s cock buried in your ass and you’re leaking all over yourself… Sooo Filthy.”

I came first, untouched, cock jerking between us and painting both our stomachs. The way I clenched around him dragged a broken sound out of his throat. He fucked me through it, relentless, until I was oversensitive and shaking and still asking for more.

He pulled out, flipped me onto my stomach like I weighed nothing, and shoved back in from behind. The new angle made me cry out. He covered my body with his, chest to my back, mouth at my ear, one hand braced beside my head and the other reaching under to stroke my spent cock back to life.

“Gonna fill you up,” he said. “Gonna come so deep you’ll feel it tomorrow when you’re sitting across from my parents at dinner pretending nothing happened. That what you want?”

“Yes... fuck... yes, Logan... ”

He slammed in harder. The headboard knocked against the wall. I pushed back to meet every thrust, greedy for it. When he came it was with a long, low groan against the side of my neck, hips stuttering, cock pulsing as he emptied inside me. I felt every throb, every hot pulse of it.

He stayed buried for a long time after, breathing hard, one hand stroking down my side like he couldn’t stop touching. Eventually he pulled out slow. I felt the warm slide of his come leaking out of me and onto the sheets. He rolled me over, looked down at the mess between my legs, and dragged two fingers through it before pushing them back into my loose hole.

“Look at that,” he murmured. “Staying right where I put it.”

I was still half-hard and overstimulated and floating. He kissed me slow this time, deep, like he was claiming the taste of me. Then he settled beside me on the too-small bed, one heavy arm thrown across my chest.

We stayed like that in the dark, the only sound our slowing breaths and the occasional distant car on the road outside. His thumb traced idle circles on my skin.

After a while he spoke, voice quiet.

“I’m home for three weeks before I have to report back. Three weeks, no one else in this house.”

I turned my head on the pillow. His eyes were open, watching me.

“What are you saying?”

His hand slid lower, over my stomach, down until his fingers brushed the sticky mess still clinging to my cock and the inside of my thighs. He pressed two fingers back into me, easy, like he belonged there, and curled them just enough to make my breath hitch.

“I’m saying,” he said, “that I spent three years thinking about all the ways I wanted to ruin my best friend. And I just got started.”

He added a third finger, stretched me open around them, and leaned in so his mouth was right against my ear.

“Tomorrow morning I’m going to wake you up with my tongue in your ass and my cock down your throat. And after that I’m going to bend you over the kitchen table and make you thank me for every year I waited. You good with that?”

I was already hardening again around his fingers. My voice came out wrecked.

“Yeah. I’m good with that.”

He smiled against my skin  and kept working his fingers deeper.

-
Up for Part 2?

I posted an ad a while ago about a potential meeting as I have been pretty horny and wanted to have another session with a guy as it had been 10 years since I had been with a guy and wanted to try it again. I got a few people contacting me, some fakes and had a couple of legit guys but times due to work etc through no fault but my own could not align except for 1. This is me and Jim's' session.

We messaged for a week or 2, Jim said he was 55(I think closer to 60 but I don't care) shared some photos and what we were into and organized an early morning meet up at his place. I arrived at his place at 6am in the darkness. Nervous and excited I knocked on the door, the lights were on and a saw the shadow behind the frosted door approach and we were on. Jim answered with a big smile you must be Matt? I nervously said sure am, your Jim? He laughed and " Relax Hon, it's ok". I breathed and we shook hands and Jim pulled me in and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. I instantly felt at ease as we hugged and held Jim in close and I got a little hard. Jim pulled back a bit and asked what I thought of his bath robe and I said it looked really sexy as I grabbed the end of robe and slowly pulled at it. Jim laughed and slapped my hand away and then held my hand and said come with me.

We went into his room and he asked me if I wanted to take my clothes off, without even thinking my shirt was unbuttoned and I loosened my belt and then Jim undid my fly, I undid my button on my pants then Jim came in gave me kiss on the lips. I let my pants drop to my ankles with some help from Jim and we began making out slowly. Our tongues twirled in and out of each others mouth as I pulled at the robe until it was open. I slid my hand around his back and brushed my hands over his arse as we made out. Jim moved from kissing my mouth to my neck and worked down to my chest and licked and lightly bit my nipples then dropped to his knees. He worked his head and tongue over my boxers into my hardening cock and pulled the front of my boxers down and I let my cock out. Jim complimented me and said you have a really nice looking cock as he began licking away and then taking me into his mouth ever so slowly. It felt amazing to be getting head again form a guy as his hands massaged my arse and teased my balls as he sucked away.

After a few minutes I told Jim to get on the bed with me, We laid on the bed and began making out again and I started giving Jim a hand job, his kissing intensified with the strokes and then I made my way down on him. My mouth was wet as I licked the head and took his small-medium cock into my mouth and began sucking. Jim rubbed his hands in my hair and I slowly got into the groove again after 10 years without a cock in my mouth as the saliva lathered his cock. During our talks prior Jim had mentioned he was a bottom but I had no interest in topping but I pulled my mouth back and said have you got any lube? Jim reached to his bedside drawer and I squirted some on my fingers and began slowly fingering his arse and within minutes Jim was moaning as I slowly pushed in and out. I pulled out and finished Jim off with my hand as he squirted his load on his bed sheets, I kept stroking him until he went soft in my hand as Jim caught his breath he pulled me up and kissed me again and said "I was not expecting that, I would have preferred your cock fucking me." Jim went down on me and got some lube and have me a hand job mixed with his mouth as I blew my load over his shoulder. As I was cumming he teased my arse with his lubed up finger and if felt great.

Jim offered me a shower and a coffee after our fun and I went to work that day with no idea where the day went and if I did anything at all as I was in an absolute daze. We have chatted a little but have not organised a further catch up.

Read Part 2 here

--

The back seat of Brad’s car was smaller than it had any right to be.

Liam sat pressed against the door, trying to keep space between him and Oliver, but every time the car took a corner or slowed for traffic, their knees brushed. After the third time, Oliver shifted, just enough that his thigh stayed against Liam’s. His leg was firm, it was warm and this was to Liam, deliberate.

But neither of them moved away.

In the front, Hazel was talking about the new house. “It’s got that big open-plan kitchen. Once you two stop circling each other like cats, it’ll be lovely. We can have proper family dinners again.”

Brad nodded. “Exactly. It’ll be good for everyone once you’ve sorted things out this weekend.”

Liam stared at the back of his mother’s head and tried not to think about the phantom pressure of Oliver’s hand still lingering on his waist from that morning. In the rear-view mirror, their eyes met for half a second. Oliver looked away first, Liam did the same a moment later.

-

At the hire place, the clerk handed over the keys and pointed them toward a dark grey hatchback at the far end of the row. Hazel and Brad waited by their own car, and them waved them off with reminders to call if the cottage was locked or the weather turned.

Liam and Oliver loaded their bags into the boot in silence. Their hands almost touched on the same handle of Liam’s duffel, both pulled back at the same time.

Oliver opened the driver’s door, then paused. “Can you check the glovebox. The lady said it contains a map’s in case the signal goes.”

Liam was already reaching for it. Oliver leaned across him from the driver’s side to grab something from the passenger footwell at the same moment, an old service booklet, or maybe just an excuse. Their chests brushed, Oliver’s shoulder pressed into Liam’s for a beat longer than necessary. Close enough that Liam could feel the heat from him, could smell his deodorant that had clung to his skin.

For a second neither moved.

Then the clerk called across the forecourt, “You’re all set, lads. Any problems, just ring the number on the key fob.”

They broke apart. Oliver slid behind the wheel without looking at Liam. Liam shut the passenger door harder than he needed to.

-

The hire car smelled of air freshener and new plastic. Oliver drove whilst Liam sat in the passenger seat, on his phone and occasionally staring at the road.

They sat in awkward silence and did so until the dual carriageway opened up and the traffic thinned.

Liam broke it first, “You always walk in on people naked, or was that just me?”

Oliver’s hands tightened on the wheel. “I told you, I forgot my deodorant.”

“Bullshit, the door was locked.”

“And yet here we are.” Oliver’s tone was flat, but a muscle jumped in his jaw. “You could’ve said something louder instead of standing there dripping like a…”

“Like a what?”

“Like someone who didn’t exactly rush to cover up.”

The argument flared fast, it got almost vicious, then died just as quickly back into silence. The only sounds were the engine and the tyres on tarmac.

Liam put on the radio.

Oliver’s right hand rested on the gearstick, Liam’s eyes kept dropping to it, the manly knuckles, the short nails, the way the tendons shifted when he changed gear. Liam’s own hand lay on his thigh and he felt Oliver glance at it more than once.

A longer stretch of empty road opened ahead. No other cars, hedge rows and open fields.

Without warning, Oliver’s hand left the gearstick and settled on Liam’s knee.

His hand was firm and claiming. “Making a point,” the touch said, though neither of them spoke.

It stayed there longer than it should have. Oliver’s thumb shifted once, almost absently, the same way it had on Liam’s waist that morning. This caught Liam off guard, his pulse increased. He didn’t push the hand away, he didn’t look at Oliver either. He just stared straight ahead, his pulse loud in his ears, while the weight of that hand felt like it was burning through the fabric of his jeans.

Eventually Oliver moved it back to the gearstick, neither of them mentioned it.

The rest of the drive passed in awareness of every small movement, the flex of Oliver’s forearm when he turned the wheel, the way Liam’s own fingers curled against his thigh. They were both turned on, half-hard and doing a poor job of pretending otherwise.

When the satnav finally announced the last turn, Oliver slowed. The road narrowed into a single-track lane lined with trees.

They were almost there.

Liam kept his eyes on the windscreen and tried not to think about how much longer two full days of this was going to feel, the tension was real and it was sexual.

 --

Follow the link in my bio to read more

Fiction. All characters 18+.

Part 3 here

Originally posted on r/gaystories: here

I’m Hugh. I’m 25. I told myself I was only driving by.

I didn’t text. I didn’t put socks on. One amber bulb behind the half-drawn shutter, and a voice that wasn’t his. Male. Low. Then John, calm, teaching someone how to press just under a ribcage until a body starts to squirm.

I should have left. My cock was already hard against the seam of my pants, and the shame of that didn’t slow me down. I wanted to be the body on the bench. I had known it since the car.

John turned and found me in the doorway. Shirtless. A bigger man beside him, early thirties, broad, dark hair across his chest, still looking to John for where to put his hands. An empty bench. Towels. No one else.

“Come in, Hugh. You’re not interrupting. This is Todd. Hugh’s the one I told you about.”

Todd nodded like the story had already been told.

“Clothes off. Only if you want to be what he practices on.”

The yes was already in my throat. “I want it.”

Every layer I dropped felt like handing something over. Cool air on my stomach. My cock lifting, flushed, leaking before anyone had touched it. I climbed onto the bench because my body had decided before I finished the thought. John cuffed my ankles up to the posts, spread, then my wrists. I couldn’t close. I didn’t try. Being held open like that — seen, offered — went through me hotter than a hand.

“Watch,” John told Todd, and drew one finger between my cheeks. I twitched. My hole clenched on nothing. “He answers before you ask. Touch him. Slow.”

Todd’s hands were warm, calloused, a little unsure, then sure. Thumbs spreading me. I felt his breath on my rim, long and hot. I whimpered and pulled at the cuffs, not to get free. To feel that I couldn’t.

“Lick him.”

John put a hand on Todd’s shoulder. Then I felt a broad tongue, dragging, pressing in. My toes curled. Something in my chest went quiet and loose. This was the part I had driven here for: not deciding anymore.

“Last chance to say no.”

“Don’t stop.”

John handed Todd the bottle and told him to warm the lube in his fingers. Two of them slid in easy. I had been opened three times already this month. My body remembered. It softened around him, greedy, and the sound I made embarrassed me until John said, low, “That’s it. Give it to him.”

Todd picked up the medium plug like he was afraid of breaking it. John told him to warm it in his hand first. He did, turning it, slicking it until it shone, glancing up for permission before he brought it anywhere near me. The first touch was only the tip, circling my rim, not pushing. I clenched. He stopped.

“He’s not saying no,” John said. “He’s feeling it. Stay there.”

Todd stayed. The tapered head kissed me, retreated, kissed me again. Hesitant, almost careful, which made it worse. I could feel every degree of the stretch before it became a stretch: pressure, then a dull ache, then the slow give as my hole decided to take the point of it. He didn’t shove. He let the weight of the toy do the work, a patient inch, then another, the ring of muscle burning and opening around the widening shaft. I gasped when the thickest part reached me. For a second, I didn’t think I could. Todd froze, hands steady on my thighs, and John said, “He can. Watch him.”

I bore down. The widest point popped through and the rest followed in one slick slide, seated, heavy, my hole closing behind the neck like it meant to keep it. The fullness was different from a cock. Blunt. Motionless. A claim that didn’t thrust, just sat there and made me aware of every nerve. I arched. My cock jumped and leaked onto my stomach.

Todd didn’t fuck me with it. Not yet. He tapped the base. Twisted it a quarter turn. Pulled it out until the thick part tugged at my rim and I whimpered, then seated it again. Shy at first, then less shy once he heard what it did to me. Each withdrawal dragged the ridge over raw, slick skin. Each push stuffed me full before I had finished missing it. By the third time, he was breathing harder, still looking at John, but his hand had stopped asking.

“Out,” John said. “Slow. All the way.”

Todd drew it free ridge by ridge. The loss was obscene. Cool air rushed in. I felt myself stay open, fluttering, wet, unable to close around nothing, and the want that followed was immediate and stupid. I needed to be filled again. Not by silicone. By one of them.

I heard noises. Todd’s belt. Jeans down.

I saw his cock from the side. Thick. Uncut. Heavy even half-hard, veins dark under the skin, low full balls in coarse hair, a slight upward curve, the head already wet. He squeezed the base and it jumped. My mouth watered. My hole fluttered like it had recognized the shape before he touched me.

John tossed him a condom. “Between his legs. Tip only. Let him take you.”

Todd stepped into the V of my raised thighs. Latex and heat against me. Thicker than the plug. Alive. I bore down without being told. The head slipped in and the stretch bloomed up my spine, sharp, then sweet. I moaned and offered him the rest with my hips.

He sank to the root. I felt stuffed and split, claimed by a man I had met ten minutes ago, and the wrongness of that only made me harder. John stood at Todd’s shoulder, hands on his hips, and rocked him. An inch. Back. An inch.

“Don’t hammer him. Feel him pull you back in.”

He did. Every time Todd eased out, my body tried to keep him. I heard myself thanking him. I didn’t plan the words.

Then John nodded, and Todd withdrew.

Cold. I gaped. I could feel myself not closing, wet, fluttering, obscene under the bulb. John looked at it the way he looks at an engine that finally runs right. He stepped into the same place between my legs, lined up, and pushed in — thicker, hotter, the cock I already knew. One long stroke. Familiar in a way that undid me. Todd had stretched me. John took what was left and made it his again.

He didn’t rush. He had already come in me on other nights and still fucked like a man with hours. Deep. Patient. Grinding at the end of each stroke until my cock drooled on my stomach and my thinking thinned out.

He pulled out slow. I stayed open.

“Back in,” he told Todd.

They traded like that. Todd between my thighs, then John, then Todd. Sometimes only the head, mean, waiting until I whined. Sometimes a slam that knocked a sound out of me I didn’t recognize. John never softened. When Todd had to pause, chest heaving, John took his place and kept the same rhythm, like stamina was just another tool on the wall. I stopped counting. I stopped being embarrassed. I lay there cuffed and open and let them use the fact that I had come back.

John ground in, hips flush to me, and held there.

“Whose slut are you now?”

I had to swallow. “Yours. Both of yours. Please don’t stop.”

I came with no hand on me. Messy. Across my stomach. My hole clenched around him and he didn’t pull out. He stayed and let me milk it.

“He’ll do it again,” he said.

He had Todd bury himself and stay still. Then he slicked his own cock and set the head against my rim, right beside Todd’s. Same space. Both of them standing in the spread of my legs, shoulder to shoulder, two shafts pressed together at the place I was already open.

“You want both?”

“Yes. Do it.”

John pushed. The stretch was too much, and then it was exactly what I had driven here to feel. I opened. I shook. I took them. Two cocks, one hole, the weight of both men between my thighs, and the only thought left was more. They held still until I understood how full I was. Then they moved together, slow, grinding against each other inside me. I drooled. I cried a little. I was hard again.

Todd came first, pulsing in the condom, folded over my chest, still inside. John didn’t stop. He kept working past the softening shaft, deeper, endless, the same patient stroke he’d had an hour ago. I came dry — just the clench, the shake, a raw sound — and he growled and spilled in me on the next grind, one last push like he was signing it.

They eased out one after the other. I whimpered at the air. I was gaping, leaking, ruined, still trying to hold a shape that wasn’t there. John wiped me down. Unbuckled me. My legs didn’t want to close.

“Not just mine anymore,” he said against my temple. “Ours. Same time. Or sooner.”

I nodded. I drove home on a towel, sore in the way that feels like a promise, and smiled at the empty road.

I already knew I’d be back before he asked.

Full series on Patreon

I used to workout with a friend of mine for quite a while. we used to shower after our workouts and one us always “needed shampoo” or something. So when we would bring the soap to the shower stall thats when it started. I’d open the curtain to my friend already hard so I would just grab his throbbing wet dick. We would take turns getting on our knees and sucking each other or just stand in the hot water dripping in soap jerking each other off. He has such a big hard dick and it felt so good to hold and stroke. This went on for quite a while like if we were working out together we were going to suck each other in the shower. However outside of the gym we were both straight. I haven’t had another experience with a guy before or after this but sometimes I think about holding his massive hard dick in my hands again and it turns me on like crazy. I havent been turned on by men before and don’t generally find men attractive but something about his dick really get me going. It’s a shame we don’t workout together anymore. It was a fun secret experience.

So for the longest time I stopped buying toys because it was just a hassle to hide at one point and I never really needed it anymore. Getting a job with god awfully boring men as coworkers changed that really quick.

My first two days were horrid, because it was just straight men who all had some level of homophobia, did NOT give an ounce of manliness, and overall just lame. As boring as it is, me being me always somehow manages to get horny and whenever I get a 20 minute break idk what to do with it except talk to horny men online and get riled up.

I decided Im getting a dildo no matter what and take it to work for the third day and so I did. I kept my toy in my locker for emergency uses and never take it home, and for the past week my breaks have been amazing, and even when everyone leaves for 5 minute smoke breaks, I go for my dildo break and I love it!!

Just wanted to let that out into the universe x

Chapter 3
 
Orientation day! New Student Sessions is today, finally. The whole Covel Commons is buzzing. It feels like my whole existence has been leading up to this moment. I woke up very early in the morning—before the sun even slit through the drapes—a whole five hours before orientation began. I had my runners on and my ass out of the dorm in no time. I didn’t sleep very well, but I have so many reasons to get up early, and my excitement is through the roof. I took advantage of the time to explore the campus. The university is huge; there are several places you can actually run to, and I chose the easy one near the dorm to explore our neighborhood as well.
 
I came from bumfuck Texas, where everything you see is endless nothingness, so this place is basically a new planet for me. So many possibilities and endless opportunities. My eyes can’t get any bigger seeing new things; the campus is beautiful, and I’ve been working my whole life to get here. It wasn’t easy. I had to keep my focus and avoid so many obstacles due to being in the closet, and I can’t believe I am finally here.
 
I ran for two hours, which is not new to me. I’m not an athlete, but running is one thing that clears my mind. Back in Texas, I lived about a ten-minute drive from my best friend, but instead of driving, I ran. I ran almost daily after school to his house. Once I felt content with a few laps, I went to the nearest campus café. There are several, and I chose the cheapest one—I could tell it wasn’t that expensive based on the exterior. I’ve saved money my whole life to get here, and I am proud to say I can spend some dime on coffee and a sandwich for at least six months.
 
Then, I had to get a job. Fuck my life—being poor ain't easy. My mom and dad promised to send me some allowance every month, but I know it’s not going to be enough. I’m still very grateful to have them supporting me, though guilt gnaws inside me whenever I think about them not knowing about my sexuality. My dad would seriously disown me. My mom... I’m not so sure. She’s always been silent but loving. She doesn’t throw her opinions around carelessly—or throw any opinions at all—so I don’t know her stance. There were no gay people in our small town, and I never heard them talk about the topic in my entire life. I’m completely blind when it comes to their stance on homosexuality.
 
Today, I dressed mostly in university merch: a navy blue hoodie and sweatpants. Chris, my best friend, ordered a bunch of sets and gifted them to me before I left home—a gesture I never saw coming, but severely appreciated. I almost cried when he gave them to me; I teared up a little, actually. Knowing how much it cost and how much effort it took, I almost kissed him right then and there. Now, dressed in UCLA gear from top to bottom, I look like the university's biggest fan. Thank God I wasn't the only one.
 
Back to the present: after I checked in, the student volunteers showed us where the New Student Sessions would be. The place is massive. I can't stop looking around. I haven't met anyone yet; I feel shy and overwhelmed to start a conversation with anyone. I also haven't spotted Matt anywhere—which is good. Better that way. I want to avoid that man at all costs, especially after what happened last night—stop. I don't want to think about it at all. I pray I don't run into him at all. He was still snoring when I left this morning, and when I came back after the run, he was gone, just like I was hoping. I remember him mentioning an early meeting with his new team today, so it is less likely for him to be at this orientation, but it's still a huge possibility since he is a freshman like me.
 
"Hi."
 
A voice interrupted my inner monologue, making me blink and follow the sound. It belonged to a cute, petite Asian girl. She was also wearing merch, but in a cute white shirt and a yellow cardigan. I blinked and looked around; she was looking at me, but I wasn't sure if she was talking to me. I looked around to confirm if she was indeed talking to me, and I confirmed she was. I blinked again, feeling shy all of a sudden.
 
"Hi there," I was able to let out quietly. The girl gave me a warm and welcoming smile. She was holding the same welcome kit as me, and my nervousness eased a little bit.
 
"My name is Jean. What's your name?" she asked, reaching out her hand for a handshake. I looked at it like it was about to bite me for two seconds before recalling my manners. I cleared my throat, reached for her hand, and squeezed it gently. Her skin was warm and soft.
 
"I'm Benjamin. How are you?" I said, my voice a little throaty since I hadn't used it in a bit.
 
Jean gave me a warm smile again, making me smile back. "I'm good now! I was a little lonely not knowing anybody, so I looked around trying to spot a friendly face, saw you, and decided to introduce myself. I decided I want to be your friend," she monologued, still smiling and seemingly having a boost of endless energy out of nowhere.
 
My eyes widened, and I couldn't help but smile. Her energy was electric, and I felt relieved she picked me. I told her that: "Thanks for picking me. I feel overwhelmed and don't know how to start a conversation with anyone," I said, feeling out of breath.
 
Jean made an excited squeal, bounced, and grabbed my other hand. "OMG, we're gonna be besties!" she exclaimed. I let out a nervous laugh, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden and afraid we might draw attention, but oddly, it was making me happy. I couldn't help but laugh with her.
 
"Besties, yay," I agreed, not knowing what else to say.
 
Jean chuckled, looking at me fondly. "You're an introvert, huh? I'm so glad I picked you—you're going to need me, Benny," she declared, hooking her arm around mine and leading us to the door of the auditorium. And just ...like that, I was adopted by Jean, and she didn't leave my side for the whole orientation. I found out she's from Thailand and was adopted when she was a baby by her current parents. She's a yapper; I feel like she's told me everything about her life already. She asks about mine from time to time, but I can only give her short answers before she brushes it off and proceeds to talk about herself, her dreams, and her plans for the next few years we'll be studying here. At this point, we have explored the campus and finished lunch, and we're still talking. We manage to walk almost everywhere, or at least she talks and talks while she drags me around places.
 
And now we are sitting on the grass. We went to a nearby convenience store and bought some snacks. Jean is still talking, and right now her subject is boys. She's telling me about her ex-boyfriend. They broke up since they are going to different universities, and she wants to explore her sexuality since she thinks women are also very attractive, though she's never kissed one and would like to. I went silent after she mentioned sexuality and just let her talk, which she must have noticed, since she squinted at me and pursed her lips.
 
"Benny, are you a homosexual?" she asked suddenly, playfully wagging her eyebrows at me. I was sipping on my bottled water, and it went down the wrong pipe, making me choke. It felt like I was dying. Jean yelped and rubbed my back in alarm. It took a few minutes to recover.
 
"Holy shit, Ben, I'm so sorry! I almost killed you," she said as soon as I started to get ahold of my breath. I drank more water; my throat was painful. It was actually quite funny, and I started to giggle, which turned into a full-on laugh. Jean looked at me like I was crazy and started cracking up, too. We shared the laugh for a long time, calming down a little only to start laughing again. For some reason, the tension I had been feeling all day evaporated, and I felt comfortable for the first time today. We finally calmed down, and silence enveloped us. I was still smiling.
 
"I am, yeah," I said quietly, finally answering her question.
 
She looked at me proudly, and we cracked up again.
 
"Hey Ben," Jean said, making me look at her. "I knew," she said, winking at me and making me nod.
 
"Is it my ass that gave it away?" I said jokingly. For some reason, there was no panic in me knowing she had clocked me right away. It probably meant it was obvious to other people, too—except my roommate, apparently. I don't want to keep my sexuality a secret here. I want to be myself, and I hate that I didn't establish that with Matt.
 
Jean giggled and nodded at me. "Yes, babe, it's your massive rack that gave it away," she said. "No, really, it's your energy. You just ooze gay and kindness; you have the softest energy to you. It's what drew me to you," she confessed, making my heart tender.
 
I smiled at her and said, "Thank you for picking me in the crowd," gratefully and sincerely.
 
I was able to talk about myself this time, comfortably sharing where I came from and my upbringing. Jean surprisingly listened silently, nodding here and there and asking relevant questions. I told her I'm inexperienced with being gay and with sex, and she was very supportive. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, realizing I'm actually experiencing college now. I feel free. All I need to do is come out to my hot roommate. It's going to be so hard, knowing what happened last night.
 
Jean sat up suddenly and let out a short gasp. I followed her gaze, and what I saw made me frown: a group of men walking nearby. They were all tall and massive—clearly athletes.
 
"OMG, the football players!" she exclaimed, her mouth agape.
 
My heart suddenly began to beat erratically inside my chest—not from excitement, but from dread. As if on cue, I saw him.
 
Matt was with them, walking alongside another buff dude behind the front line. There were about fifteen of them total, and I didn't know where to focus. They were laughing at something, looking so good and commanding. They clearly commanded attention from everyone around; like a magnet, everyone’s eyes were glued to them. They all looked amazing—I felt like I was drooling.
 
"That’s the new quarterback, Matthew Jean Vanetzel," Jean murmured, seemingly in a trance.
 
She was obviously talking about none other than my roommate. We hadn't talked about our housing situations yet, so he hadn't come up as my roommate in our conversation. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but right now, it felt as though revealing that information would trigger a sleeper cell.
 
"We went to the same school together, do you know?" Jean said, still watching them.
 
They had crossed the lawn and were now getting closer to where we were. We were thankfully tucked out of the way under a big oak tree, so there was no way they’d head our direction.
 
I was so distracted by the alpha-looking guys that what Jean said didn’t register at first. When it finally clicked, I looked at her, curious. "Really? Which one are you talking about?" I asked, even though I knew exactly who she meant.
 
She pointed at Matt using her lips, prompting me to look at him again. They were getting closer now, and I hated the thought that they might be heading our way.
 
"He’s a very nice dude, but he seems to always be in his head. I wish I was friends with him, but he’s always surrounded by people," she added, her eyes still on them. Jean had mentioned earlier that she lived nearby and chose this college because it was close to her parents—the same reasoning as Matt's, I realized.
 
We both watched them in silence. To my surprise, they were heading our way. They stopped a few paces from us and started tossing a football around. Their voices grew louder, and it was fascinating to watch—like watching Picasso paint. Their muscles were prominent even though they were wearing varsity jackets; you could just tell how powerful their bodies were.
 
Meanwhile, panic began to set in. I didn't want to get spotted by Matt and be forced into mandatory niceties with him. I didn't want to be reminded of last night, especially by him.
 
"Are you friends?" I asked, curious because Jean seemed to know him well.
 
She shrugged and looked at me. "We’re cool with each other. We hang out with different crowds and share some classes, so we're friendly, I guess. Matt is friends with everybody," she said, a hint of fondness in her voice.
 
"I actually know who he is..." I started to say, turning back to watch them, only to find Matt already looking our way.
 
He spotted us and waved enthusiastically, looking straight at me. My heart instantly stopped before hammering against my ribs.
 
Holy shit.
 
Matt kept waving, and then he started to jog toward us. He wasn't too far away, and before I knew it, he was right in front of us. His smell hit me first, the musk of a real man and his cologne. My god, I forgot how handsome he is, his long hair looks really good on him. His neck is so girthy and powerful, I wonder how it feels licking them, lust consumes my whole body whenever he is near and seriously affecting my logical thoughts. 
 
"Hey, roomie!" he said, smiling widely. Completely clueless to what he’s doing to me. I opened my mouth and closed it again as he flopped down onto the grass right in front of us. He looked at Jean, and his smile widened even more.
 
"Hey, Tweety Bird," he said, referring to Jean, who turned a deep shade of red.
 
"Fuck you, Vanetzel, don't call me that here!" she spat, though she was clearly amused. She looked back and forth between me and Matt, who was laughing.
 
"Wait... roomie?" she exclaimed, looking at me wide eyes as if I had betrayed her. I felt a surge of nervousness, but before I could answer, Matt was already talking.
 
"Yes, Ben and I room together. He's the best—we get along quite well," Matt said. He winked at me, smiling so beautifully that it made me even more nervous. Saliva pooled in my mouth, and I had to swallow quickly as last night played back in my head...
 
"Do you like what you see?" Matt had asked me last night. His voice was like butter, smooth and seductive. I almost died when he asked, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were soft and he was smiling gently at me; my heart felt like it was about to pop right out of my chest. I had never been that nervous in my life. I couldn't answer him and just stared, unmoving, like a deer caught in headlights. Weirdly enough, his expression was nowhere near hostile or grossed out. He was just asking, looking genuinely inviting. He bit his lower lip softly and flicked his tongue out briefly to lick it—the action almost caused a total combustion downstairs.
 
I could only nod, and he smiled before running his hands back down his body toward his soft cock.
 
"You can look anytime, buddy," he whispered, still smiling softly and rubbing his cock gently. I had never felt so thirsty in my life, my mouth watering uncontrollably. I just gulped and kept staring until I finally fell asleep.
 
...Something had definitely shifted in the air, and I was in so much trouble.
 
 
 
 
 

Everyone is over 18

Part 1

Quick recap: Ethan, my straight college roommate, came back horny after a canceled date, and I helped him relieve some tension. After our first night together, he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened. A few days later, while we watched porn and jerked off together, he found himself more interested in me than the screen. Eventually, he took the initiative and made me come for the first time.

After that night, Ethan could not pretend as well as before.

That did not mean he suddenly became brave. He could still spend half the day acting as if nothing between us had changed. He went to class, came back from the gym, tossed his bag under the bed, and answered my questions in the same short tone as always.

But there was something new in him.

It was no longer only about the shame of letting me touch him. I knew that. I had seen it after the first night, when he did not know what to do with the fact that my hand and my mouth had given him so much pleasure.

Now it was different.

Now Ethan knew that he had also liked doing something to me.

I saw it in his glances. In the way he sometimes looked at my hands, as if he was remembering his own hand on my body. In the way his eyes lingered on my mouth a little too long, then quickly darted away, as if he was afraid he had given too much away.

He did not ask anything directly.

And I think that said the most.

A few times, he looked like he wanted to say something. He would sit on his bed with his phone in his hand, not even looking at the screen. He would open his mouth, take a breath, and then only shake his head and go back to pretending everything was normal.

I did not push.

Partly because I liked watching him get there on his own. Partly because I knew that if something happened this time, it had to come from him.

Because for the first time, his curiosity was not circling around the question of what I could do to him.

Now it was about something else.

I could see him slowly starting to wonder what he could do to me.

And I knew that sooner or later, Ethan would find a way to look for the answer.

The answer came sooner than I expected.

Two days later, I came back from class earlier than usual. The dorm hallway was loud, someone was laughing behind the wall, someone was slamming doors, but when I reached our room, it was surprisingly quiet inside.

I thought Ethan was not there.

I opened the door without knocking.

And stopped in the doorway.

Ethan was sitting on his bed with his laptop in front of him. He was so focused on the screen that for the first second, he did not even notice me. Only then did I see what he was watching.

Two guys. One kneeling between the other's legs. Mouth, tongue, hand, slow rhythm.

An oral scene.

But it was not the screen that stopped me the most.

It was Ethan.

He was leaning slightly forward, his face red with tension, one finger at his mouth. It did not look like a random gesture. He had it between his lips, slowly, uncertainly, as if he was trying to understand the movement he had just been watching. As if his body was learning something before his mind had managed to admit it.

"Practicing?" I asked calmly.

Ethan froze.

Then everything happened at once. He jerked, nearly slammed the laptop shut on his own fingers, and looked at me with such terror that it was as if I had caught him doing something much worse than being curious.

"It's not..." he started quickly. "It's not like that."

I walked into the room and closed the door behind me.

"No?"

"No. I mean... I was just..." He rubbed his face with his hand. "Fuck."

I did not laugh. I did not want him to feel humiliated. I could see how embarrassed he was, but beneath that shame, there was something else. Something that had not disappeared even now that the laptop was closed.

I stepped closer.

"You could have just asked."

Ethan only looked at me after a moment.

"I didn't know how."

That one sentence stayed between us longer than it should have.

It sounded different from an excuse. There was no joke in it, none of that nervous defense Ethan usually tried to hide behind whenever he could not name something. This time, he simply looked like someone who had genuinely tried to find the answer on his own because he was afraid to ask me directly.

I sat beside him on the bed.

"You don't have to make it into a huge thing," I said.

Ethan huffed quietly, but without conviction.

"Easy for you to say."

"I didn't say it was easy. I said it doesn't have to be huge."

For a moment, he looked at the closed laptop.

"It's not like I want to become an expert or something."

"No," I replied calmly. "You just want to know why you keep watching it."

That hit.

I saw it in the way his jaw tightened for a second and his eyes darted away. He did not deny it. Not this time.

"After that night..." he started quietly. "When I touched you... I couldn't stop thinking about the way you reacted."

I did not move.

"And?"

Ethan swallowed.

"I wanted to know if I could do something more."

The words came out of him almost as a whisper. As if admitting it was harder than everything he had done before.

I turned more toward him.

For a moment, Ethan looked as if he wanted to pull back again. But then his gaze slid to my mouth, lower, to my body, and back to my eyes.

"Can I try it on you?" he asked quietly.

My heart beat harder.

"You can," I said.

I undressed slowly.

Ethan sat on the bed and watched. This time, he did not look away as quickly as before. He was embarrassed, of course, but beneath that embarrassment was focus. The same focus I had seen when he had his finger at his mouth and was trying to understand something he could not yet name.

When I stood in front of him, his breathing changed immediately.

"You don't have to rush," I said.

He nodded and slowly slid off the bed onto his knees. The sight alone did more to me than I wanted to show. Ethan, my straight roommate, the same guy who had come back frustrated a few days earlier after a canceled date with a girl, was now kneeling in front of me because he wanted to learn my reactions.

First, he placed his hands on my thighs.

They were warm. A little uncertain.

"So what now?" he asked quietly.

"Slowly at first," I answered. "Don't try to do everything at once. Watch how I react."

Ethan nodded. He leaned in and touched me with his lips carefully, almost too lightly. I sucked in a breath, and he immediately looked up, checking if he had done it right.

"Yeah," I said.

He tried again.

This time longer. Slower. His tongue moved uncertainly, but carefully, as if he was truly memorizing every breath I took. At first, he was clumsy, too cautious, tense at moments. But there was something incredibly arousing about it. It was not about perfection. It was about the fact that Ethan wanted to learn.

"Breathe," I said quietly.

He listened.

The longer it went on, the more confident he became. He started to understand when to slow down, when to use his tongue, when to add his hand. He reacted to my body the way I had reacted to his before.

At one point, I had to rest my hand on his shoulder.

"Ethan, I'm close," I said heavily. "You don't have to finish it."

I was about to pull away, but his hands tightened more firmly on my thighs.

He lifted his eyes.

"But I want to."

Those words went through me like electricity.

I did not have time to answer, because Ethan came back to me, more certain now than before. This time, he did not look like someone who was only practicing. He looked like someone who had made the decision himself.

I came in his mouth.

Ethan froze for a second, surprised by the intensity of the moment, but he did not pull away immediately. Only when it was over did he draw back slowly and sit on his heels, breathing hard, his eyes wide open.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Finally, Ethan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked at me, still breathing heavily.

"That was different than I thought," he said quietly.

"Worse?"

He immediately shook his head.

"No."

He hesitated, and then his eyes drifted down to my body again.

"More real."

I did not answer.

Ethan swallowed and added more quietly:

"I think that's why I wanted to try it so badly."

Author’s note: All my characters are consenting adults (18+). All sexual acts depicted are consensual between the adult characters.

Read CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

They called me back after the nachos were gone and the plates were stacked on the coffee table. I had been in the kitchen for almost an hour, listening to the game through the wall, the collar still tight, the taste of the first four loads still sitting at the back of my throat. When the skull-mask one yelled my way I wiped my hands on the apron and walked in.

The game was in the second quarter. They had pushed the coffee table aside. Marilyn Manson old hits were playing from a red beats pill, loud and ugly. The Ghostface one pointed at the open space in front of the couch.

“Dance. Slow. Like you mean it. Like you’re a slut at a strip club. Don’t stop until we say.”

I stood there in the maid outfit. Short. Apron. Fishnets already torn at one knee. The collar ring cold against my throat. They watched through the masks. The gas-mask one had his elbows on his knees again. The ski-mask one leaned back. The skull-mask one had his legs spread.

I moved because they told me to. Hips shifting under the short skirt. Shoulders rolling. Nothing practiced. The fishnets pulled at the tear on my knee. They laughed anyway, short and mean through the masks. Ghostface clapped once, slow and sarcastic. The gas-mask one tilted his head. The filters made the sound of his breathing louder than the music.

“Fucking hot and ridiculous. Turn around. Bend.”

I turned. Bent. The apron rode up. Someone whistled. The song changed. Another Manson track, heavier. “Beautiful People”. I kept moving because they hadn’t said stop and I was a good submissive bitch. My cock was hard under the cheap fabric and I hated that they could probably see it. My dick was so tiny compared to theirs.

“Enough,” the ski-mask one said. “Sofa. Head down. Ass up.”

They moved fast. Two of them grabbed me by the arms and the collar and put me over the arm of the couch, chest on the cushion, head hanging off the side, ass in the air. The maid skirt was shoved up. The thong pulled aside. Cool air on my hairless pink hole. Then hands. Spreading me. Someone spat. I heard a belt. A zipper.

The first one was the Ghostface. Big. Thick through the middle. He lined up and pushed in bare, no warning, the head forcing my ring, opening me. The stretch made me grunt into the cushion. He didn’t wait for me to adjust. He fucked me in long, hard strokes, one hand planted on my lower back, the other gripping the collar ring and yanking my head up just enough that I could suck air between thrusts. The couch creaked. The others watched and talked over the music and the noise of NFL.

“Look at that. Taking it.”

“Maid’s got a decent hole.”

“Don’t go easy. He brought the beer. He can take the work.”

Ghostface came fast. Deep. I felt the pulses. He pulled out and wiped his cock on my ass cheek, leaving a streak. Cum already leaking.

“Next.”

The ski-mask one stepped up. Long. Straight. Cut. He lined up and pushed in while I was still open and cummy. Different angle. Deeper. He held my hips and fucked me steady, eyes on the TV half the time. When a play happened he thrust harder once and laughed.

“Fucking Packers.”

He came inside me too. Added to what was already there. Pulled out. More cum ran down my balls and onto the couch cushion.

The skull-mask one was third. Medium. He made me suck him first while the gas-mask one got behind me. I had the skull-mask one’s cock in my mouth, tasting salt and the faint trace of the first load, while the gas-mask one pushed into my ass. Fat. Curved. The same one from earlier. It hit wrong and then it hit right. He held the collar and fucked me in short, mean thrusts while I tried to keep my mouth on the other one. Spit ran. Cum from the first two leaked around his cock and down my thighs.

“Fuck, dude. He’s leaking your cum on my cock. This is fucking hot and disgusting.”

“Don’t stop sucking,” the skull-mask one said. “You’re the half-time entertainment, forget Beyoncé.”

I didn’t stop. The gas-mask one grunted through the filters. His thrusts got shorter. He came hard, a lot of it, watery and thick at the same time. It flooded out around him. He stayed in for a second, then pulled out. More cum. My ass was a mess. Cheeks shiny. Hole open and leaking onto the couch.

He stepped around the couch. I heard the straps. The filters coming loose. Then the mask was off and his face was right there while I still had the skull-mask one’s cock stretching my jaw. Glasses. Thick mustache. Short brown hair damp at the temples. He looked down at me like he was checking a job. Ordinary. Straight. Sweat on his upper lip. He didn’t smile.

“Keep going,” he said. Voice clearer without the mask. “You’re not done.”

The skull-mask one pulled out of my mouth and came across my cheek and the bridge of my nose. Thick. I swallowed what landed on my tongue. The gas-mask guy — no mask now — watched it happen. Then he grabbed my hair and turned my face toward him.

“Open.”

I opened. He pushed his curved cock back into my mouth, still wet from my ass. I tasted myself and him and the others. He fucked my throat for a minute while someone else — the Ghostface again — got behind me and pushed back in. Bare. Again. No condom. I heard one of them say it.

“Fuck that,” Ghostface said. “We’re breeding the maid. That’s the point.”

“Yeah. Fill him again. She’s here for it.”

They laughed. The one without the mask kept my head steady and used my mouth while Ghostface fucked my ass in long strokes. Cum from the earlier loads made it wet and loud and sloppy as fuck. My own cock was trapped against the couch cushion, rubbing every time they thrust. I didn’t touch it. I didn’t need to. The friction and the stretch and the voices and the fact that I could see his face now — glasses, mustache, sweat on his upper lip — pushed me over. I came against the sofa, untouched, shaking, hole clenching around Ghostface while the other one was still in my throat.

They noticed.

“Fuck. He just came.”

“From getting used. Look at that.”

“Maid’s a real slut.”

Ghostface buried himself and added another load. Pulled out. The last one — ski-mask — took his place, pushed in through the mess, and finished inside me too. Four loads. Maybe five. My ass was overflowing. Cum on my cheeks, running down my thighs, soaking the apron and the couch.

They stepped back. Breathing. Laughing. The one without the mask tucked himself away and looked at me hanging off the sofa, face covered, hole open and leaking.

“Clean the couch later,” he said. “We’re watching the rest of the game. You can stay there or go back to the kitchen. Your choice. But the collar stays on.”

I stayed where I was for a minute. Head down. Ass up. Cum cooling on my skin. The game was still on. They were already talking about the next drive like nothing had happened. I could see the mustache guy without the mask and he was fucking hot. Glasses. Mustache. Beefy and nerdy.

None of them had used a condom.

I closed my eyes and listened to the game.

“If you keep behaving good and obeying us we may call a few more buddies after the game. You down?”

My cock twitched again with the new information, even though I’d just cum.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good slut.”

All characters are 18+

“Dude, take our photo, will you?” Charlie asked, his face drenched in sweat. The club was loud. Louder than I found reasonable, but it was his birthday so I had to at least pretend to enjoy myself.

“Sure” I said, and took his phone. He wrapped his sweaty arms around two young men who he’d met on the dance floor, and I snapped the photograph. Before I had a chance to hand it back to him, Charlie was whisked away into the crowd and continued dancing.

He was the youngest of the group, but he was finally old enough to get into the club. At twenty two, I was just a year older than him, but I already felt like I’d done enough clubbing to last a lifetime. I sat back on the chair and watched as the crowd swayed.

We were close. Closer than any of the rest of the guys. Charlie and I had grown up together and had even gone to the same college, so I wasn’t surprised that he was happy to leave his phone in my possession, even if he probably wouldn’t remember it. I smiled to myself as I looked at the photo I’d just taken.

He was a handsome guy. He took care of himself more than most young men his age. Admittedly, he took care of himself more than I did, too. He had messy blond hair that was perfectly styled, and I knew that for a fact. I was usually forced to sit in his bedroom while he did it. Aside from that, Charlie was simply attractive, so I’d always wondered why he opted to remain single.

I sighed as I sat back. Thinking about my closest friend’s relationship status only made me think about my own. I was newly single, and not by choice. My three-year-long relationship had ended abruptly, though, perhaps, it was only abrupt to me. Sarah had already moved on and it had only been a week.

Mindlessly, I flicked across Charlie’s screen and laughed when I saw the photo that he’d taken on our way to the club. He was wearing a birthday hat and a large badge that read 21 today. I swiped, again, and rolled my eyes when I saw the photograph that he’d snapped of himself in his bedroom mirror. He was wearing a pair of white Calvin Klein boxer briefs and flexing his muscles so hard that he looked like he was constipated. He had an impressive physique, but the image looked ridiculous.

I considered putting the phone down. I really did. I had no interest in snooping through my best friend’s private photographs, but something came over me and before I could stop myself, I swiped, again. This time, my eyes widened.

It was a video, but I could already see that Charlie was naked. I stared at the screen, studying the curvature of the young man’s muscular ass as he was frozen in motion. My heart pounded as I looked up to see him chugging a beer with his new friends.

“Don’t do it” I said to myself. It was a blatant invasion of his privacy, but once again, I couldn’t stop myself. I tapped the screen and looked around to ensure that nobody was watching, and then the video began to play.

It was taken in his bathroom. It was the same one that I’d used a million times, and I knew it like the back of my hand. He had already set the phone down and I watched as he walked over to the closed toilet, butt naked as the shower hissed in the background. Charlie turned around and I gawped at the sight of my best friend’s naked body. Despite the fact that I was straight, I couldn’t deny that he looked incredible.

There wasn’t a single hair on his body. Perhaps, he shaved or maybe, he waxed. Whatever it was, it made his tight muscle even more impressive, but it was his large penis that stunned me, the most. Charlie was already semi-erect. The drooping tool hung at an angle, already drooling silver strings of pre-cum onto the tiles. I took a deep breath. I wasn’t supposed to be seeing this.

I watched his lips move. I assumed that he had sent the video to a girl. Probably the one he’d been texting all afternoon, but curiosity got the better of me. As Charlie closed his fist around his meaty cock, I slipped one of my Airpods in and quickly connected to his phone. What I heard next, stunned me.

“I’m just a hole for you, sir” he whined, in a voice that I’d never heard, before. It felt like my heart froze in my chest, but the most surprising part happened next. Charlie reached down and picked up a large, brown dildo. He pressed it down onto the closed lid of the toilet, and I watched in shock as he began to rub his fingers between his ass cheeks.

“What the fuck” I gasped, as my best friend hovered over the large rubber cock and slowly impaled himself on it. His hand pumped even harder, squeezing more pre-cum out of his dick, and then he lifted his fingers to his mouth and began to suck his own juices off them. I wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted or impressed as his asshole swallowed the entire dildo and he began to ride it.

“You good, bro?” Charlie asked, stumbling toward me, drenched in even more sweat than the last time. His grey t-shirt clung to his body and his hair stuck to his forehead. I quickly closed the video and almost choked as I answered him.

“Huh?” I grunted, “oh, uh… Yeah. All good”.

My cheeks burned as he squinted at me. I could tell that he was incredibly drunk, and I could also tell that if I didn’t get him home soon, he was going to puke all over himself. Still, I couldn’t forget the video that I’d just watched.

“I’m gonna’ do some shots” he mumbled, slurring as he spun around and tried to find the bar. I caught him before he fell over.

“I think it’s time for bed, bro” I said, stuffing his phone into my pocket and pulling his arm over my shoulder. He tried to argue with me, but his words were lazy and mixed together. I had him home in less than an hour.

“You’re no fun, anymore, man” he sniffled, hanging over his kitchen counter and stuffing cold pizza into his mouth. He missed most of it and smeared tomato sauce across his cheek. “You used to be fun”.

“And you” I said, guiding his hand toward his mouth. “Used to be able to eat like an adult”.

Charlie grinned at me before hiccuping, and I could tell that he was about thirty seconds away from passing out. I filled a glass full of water and held it to his lips.

“I love you, bro” he mumbled, gulping down some water and allowing most of it to spill down his chin.

“God damn it, Charlie, how much did you drink?” I laughed, using his own shirt to clean his face.

“Four” he hiccuped, and I rolled my eyes as I dragged him to his bedroom.

“Your mom is gonna’ lose her mind if you puke in here” I told him, but he was too wasted to make any sense of it. He flopped forward onto his bed and grunted as he hit the mattress. “Dude, at least take off your shoes” I laughed, but he simply mumbled in response.

As I stood over my barely conscious friend, I couldn’t help but remember the video. It had stunned me in a way that I had never expected. Charlie and I were as close as friends could be. I didn’t care if he was gay or straight. I didn’t care what he did in his own free time, but I was somewhat upset by the fact that, if Charlie was gay, he’d never felt comfortable telling me. I pushed it from my mind and grabbed his foot.

“You owe me for this, motherfucker” I said, yanking one shoe off, then the other. He slurred out a mumbled thanks bro as I grabbed his belt and slipped it from the loops of his jeans. “Turn over, idiot” I added, dragging him onto his back. He looked down at me with one eye open as I unbuttoned his pants.

“Are you gonna’ blow me?” He grinned, and I scoffed.

“You wish” I said, and slid his jeans down his legs before throwing his duvet on top of him. “Call me tomorrow. I’ll bring over some painkillers” I told him, and as I reached his bedroom door and flipped off the light, Charlie spoke, again.

“I really do love you, man” he said, and I shook my head and laughed.

“Go to sleep, bro” I chuckled. “You’re drunk”.

Chapter 2
 
Warmth and relief spread through me at the realization. I felt safe all of a sudden, but a voice at the back of my head still told me it would have been better if Matt had gotten the hint that I'm gay. It's really hard to keep it a secret, but so much harder to come clean.
 
"It's not a problem for me, Matt. If that's comfortable for you, who am I to say? Besides, my best friend from back home used to get naked around me a lot, too. He has an aversion to clothes as well..." I shared, chuckling. Matt's face cleared of its worries and he smiled gladly at me. He let out a relieved sigh and started shoving food into his mouth.
 
"I'm glad to hear that. You see, I run hot all the time—clothes feel suffocating to me. Don't even get me started on our football uniform," he said. "Well, buddy, since you're comfortable with my nudity, I'll get rid of this as well," he announced, standing up to yank off his last piece of clothing. All I could think was that I had died and gone to gay heaven.
 
His cock and balls flapped in front of me. It was massive despite being soft, but looking at it now, he seemed to be chubbing up. A lump formed in my throat and my mouth started to water. I reached for my glass and took a big gulp of water. Matt sat back down and continued eating, as if it were all so casual and normal, oblivious to my obvious suffering—though it made me all giddy inside.
 
Meanwhile, silence enveloped us as we continued to eat. I couldn't help but let myself be consumed by his presence. He was magnetic and drew everything toward him, and I couldn't think properly, in all honesty. I could feel him and smell his scent all over our shared space; it smelled of heaven and of a real man. I really needed to stop crushing on this man. Matt seemed to be the epitome of a straight guy and so secure in his masculinity, which, unfortunately for me, made him even sexier and more irresistible.
 
"You said your best friend always got naked around you?" Matt asked, cutting through the silence.
 
My eyes widened. I hadn't intended to share that detail, let alone for him to remember it. "Yeah. He's also into all kinds of sports and works on a farm. He runs hot all the time, too," I answered. Thinking about Chris made me happy, though I did miss him a lot.
 
"And what about you?" Matt asked. I shook my head and let out a laugh. "I'm a scrawny guy," I said matter-of-factly.
 
"And?" Matt said, confused, his brow furrowing. "You look good to me. Honestly, nudity is freeing. If I could go naked everywhere I went, I'd do it," he said.
 
"I'm probably just insecure," I said hesitantly, shame crawling through my body. It was true, though: I had been scrawny all my life. I have a very fast metabolism and lose weight more than I gain, even when I eat a lot. My mom said it would slow down eventually when I reached my twenties and I'd gain weight.
 
Matt scoffed and looked at me in disbelief. "Are you kidding me? You're beautiful. I bet your body is great. Come on, show me. Get out of those clothes," he said, making me almost gasp. He sounded very dominant, and all of a sudden, I felt like my heart would burst out of my chest. If I got naked, he'd see my boner.
 
I was shaking my head vigorously, panicking a little bit. "N-No, no way, Matt. I'm sorry, that's not happening," I said indignantly.
 
Matt's face softened and he smiled at me. I realized he was just teasing me, and he let out a chuckle. "I'm just kidding, buddy. You look so scared. It's fine. I'm sure I'll get you naked one of these days..." he said, winking at me and making my heart stop. I breathed a sigh of relief and laughed with him.
 
We finished eating, and I cleared all the takeout boxes away while Matt went to his bed and scrolled on his phone. He was lying on his bed buck naked, and his cock was so big it looked like a third leg resting on his abs. He would play with it while continuing to scroll, which was really putting me in a trance. I finished tidying up the table, put the food away, and sat on my bed to scroll on my phone as well. It had been a long day, and we were both exhausted. I still needed to shower, but my body felt so heavy that I felt too lazy to get up and get ready for bed. Tomorrow would be another big day for us.
 
Matt let out a chuckle from time to time, which would make me look over at him. I'd see him playing with his cock, which looked so big and semi-hard already just from him playing with it. All I could think about was how it would feel in my hands or in my mouth. As if on cue, my mouth started to water, though he seemed completely oblivious to the fact that I kept staring at him. His cock looked so plump and was growing harder by the second. Matt grew quiet as his dick became harder. I looked at his face and saw a serious expression. His hand traveled down to his tight abs and went to grab his cock for real this time. I felt very, very hot all of a sudden, realizing he was about to jerk off in front of me.
 
Wow, this felt like too much for me to handle. The sudden urge to just straddle him and risk everything was overwhelming. Then Matt let out a rugged breath, and I decided I couldn't take it anymore.
 
"I'm going to shower," I announced, getting up from my bed and heading to the bathroom. Our shared bath and toilet were adjacent to our room and close to Matt's bed. I had to walk past his bed to get to it, and realizing this, I took a peek at him before going into the bathroom. He muttered a silent "Okay, buddy," but didn't look up from his phone while he continued to stroke his cock—which was now super hard, huge, and very close to me. I almost ran to the bathroom; my cock was so hard it felt about to burst. I quickly got my clothes off and turned the shower on. Before I knew it, my dick was in my hands, and I was stroking it like there was no tomorrow.
 
It was only the first day, and yet it had been everything. I really hoped I'd survive college.
 
I was shooting my cum onto the shower wall and trying to muffle my moans with my hand. Before I knew it, I felt like I had been heading toward this moment ever since I first laid eyes on him. I shot buckets and ...It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. My body came down from the high and I continued my shower, though the image of Matt jerking off still haunted my brain.
 
"Fuuccckk."
 
A loud moan from outside the bathroom erupted, making my movements stop and my eyes go wide. Holy shit, I think Matt is coming, too. He let out another moan and I could hear him jerking off from here. My body became so hot from the realization and my cock started to harden again. It got hard so fast I couldn't help but stroke it again. I stopped the running water and listened intently to Matt instead. He was still letting out small moans and ragged breaths; I could still hear the jerking motion he was making. It was like he was right in front of me from how clearly I was picturing him. I jerked off along with him, and suddenly he erupted. He let out another moan, longer this time. I opened my mouth, picturing him pouring his cum down my throat. Oh God, this is so hot, I'm going to hell. I imagined getting his cockhead in my mouth and sucking the rest of his cum, and I erupted for the second time like an active Southeast Asian volcano.
 
There was a beat of silence as we both calmed down from the euphoria. When my heart rate started to settle, I realized I sounded suspiciously silent in the shower since the water was no longer running. I turned the water back on and rinsed myself. I couldn't believe we jerked off together and came together. It sounded so romantic in my head, but it felt delusional—my brain cells clearly went off with the rest of my cum. I finished my shower and brushed my teeth at the sink. I felt nervous all of a sudden about the fact that I would have to get out of the shower and pass by his bed. So far, I didn't hear any commotion in the room; he seemed to still be in his bed. Just picturing him lying naked on his bed, covered in his cum, made me hard again. This day felt endless, and it was literally our first day here, yet so many things had happened already—so many horny things—and I wasn't complaining. I just hoped I'd get out of this unscathed.
 
I finally emerged from the bathroom and entered our room again. I was right: Matt was still lying on his bed, back to scrolling on his phone. I wanted to avoid looking at his cock, but it was the first thing I saw—and not just his cock, but his cum pooling on his belly.
 
"Hey, buddy. Do you mind getting me a towel?" Matt asked, snapping me out of my reverie. I had to swallow hard and give him a nod, not looking him in the eye.
 
I went back to our shared bathroom, picked up his towel, and tossed it to him. It landed on his stomach, and he chuckled.
 
"Here you go, bud," I said, feigning nonchalance.
 
He smiled and thanked me, proceeding to wipe his cum off his stomach. That sight alone would go straight to my spank bank fantasy. I couldn't help but watch him wipe his cum; it seemed like he had busted a liter-sized load, since he also wiped his neck and his chin. Now that I noticed his face was wet, seemingly covered in cum too, I felt like passing out from the thought of him cumming all over his own body and face. What I would pay to see that! After he wiped his face, he wiped his cock next—it still looked semi-hard—and Matt thoroughly wiped the massive rod. He looked fantastic doing it, making me lose focus on what I was doing, which was dressing in my boxers and tank top. 
 
"I'm sorry you had to see all of that, buddy. Today drained me, and I just needed to bust a nut," Matt said once he finished. He looked at me apologetically, still naked on top of his bed. The sight belonged in the Louvre, to be honest.
 
"It's alright. I busted one, too, in the shower," I said before I was able to stop myself. My eyes went wide at my sudden confession—I hadn't intended to say all that.
 
To my surprise, Matt laughed. "I know, I heard. If I'm not mistaken, you busted twice and we came at the same time," he said, chuckling.
 
I forced a laugh and pretended it was all normal. "I just needed to get it all out. Today has been a lot for me as well," I said. I finished getting ready for bed and slid into my comforter. Unlike Matt, who stayed on top of his bed in all his glory, I kind of prayed that he would stay like that until I fell asleep. I just wanted to look at him, praying he'd stay oblivious forever.
 
"Do you like what you see?" Matt asked out of the blue.
 

So when I was 19 I had my first experience with a man. I was working this closing shift in the super market and was working with this older dude 32m broad shoulders always used to pick on me and tell me I was lazy at work. But the same time had obession with touching me, like shoving or lightly push me to do stuff. I thought he was hot but he could never know, he would just pick on me more. I have always been with women but the way he was kinda dominating me, turned me on. Anyway we are closing and we were kinda in a hurry cause we needed to close quickly to not go overtime. He called me into the office and I was complaining on my way in there cause I was already behind on my stuff. He told med to shut up and sit down. Then he said - “your too late again, ur always on these closing shift and if it doesn’t stop I may have to tell our manager” I turned to go on with my work. He walked between me and door and closed in my head. “I can close this place in 10 minutes by myself why am I slower with you”

I don’t know I answered. I tried to go past him. But he took hold of me and dragged me towards him.. he kissed me and I was so shocked I just kissed back I didn’t know what to do.. he grabbed my ass and moaned in my mouth while kissing me..

I was getting so hard in my pants and he felt that… oh somebody likes it, he growled in my ear.

He pushed me on my knees. I was so horny I wanted this for so long but didn’t know till now. He pulled down his pants and said “lick you slut” a 8 inch cocked popped out his underwear and I started licking his balls and shaft till he couldn’t wait anymore and put it in my mouth facefucking me. There was saliva everywhere and I took him as good as could.. I was so horny. 10 min after he started fucking me mouth quicker and he called me slut and said take daddy’s baby’s.. that send me over the edge and I cummed in my pants and at the same time he came in my mouth… 5-6-7 long strokes and he came so much…

He told me to go home and that he would close alone.. and he spanked my ass on the way out.. to this day.. I’m still unhappy that we didn’t do more and cause I would have loved to feel him inside… and I’m still a anal virgin..to this day.

All true.. Hope you enjoyed…