All characters engaged in sexual activity are 18 or older.

I was trying to relax in our dorm room after swim practice, my wavy blond hair still damp and sticking to my forehead. The sun was filtering through the half-closed blinds, casting lazy stripes across the cluttered floor strewn with clothes and empty cans of energy drinks. I was mindlessly scrolling through my phone, chuckling at the latest TikTok trend, when the door flew open with a bang. Dylan charged in, his straight black hair tousled from the wind outside, his swimmer's build filling the frame as he grinned like he'd just won the lottery.

"Dude, Oliver! Check this out, I signed us up for the frat's Halloween costume contest," he said, dumping his bag and collapsing onto his bed across from mine. His eyes sparkled with that infectious excitement he always had for competitions. "The grand prize is five hundred bucks. We're talking easy money, man."

I propped myself up on my elbows, raising an eyebrow. "You signed us up? Without asking me first? What, are we going as a duo or something?"

He laughed, reaching over and punching my arm lightly. "Hell yeah man, we're a team. Come on, we both love competitions! We can brainstorm costume ideas right now."

We tossed ideas back and forth for what felt like half an hour, superheroes felt too generic, horror movie characters too overdone. Then Dylan snapped his fingers, leaning forward with a sly smile. "Greek gods. You can be Zeus bro, between your blond hair and the way you're built, you'd be perfect as a him. And I can be Hades, I'll dress all dark and mysterious to match my black hair. The contrast will help us kill it in the competition!"

I blushed at his compliment and felt a flutter in my stomach. But I tried to keep it down and we high-fived on it, already picturing the win.

***

Fast forward a few days to Halloween night, and our room had turned into a makeshift costume workshop. The air smelled like cheap body paint and the pizza we'd scarfed down earlier. We stripped out of our clothes without a second thought. After years of being on the swim team together, seeing each other naked was no big deal. Or at least, it hadn't been before. There we stood, buck naked, our lean, muscled bodies on full display to each other. We both had defined abs from the endless laps, broad shoulders, and V-lines that dipped low. I caught myself glancing at Dylan a bit too long, noting how his skin glowed under the fluorescent light, but I pushed the thought away.

I slipped into my ivory toga first, the fabric soft against my skin, the gold trim shimmering as it draped over one shoulder. Dylan stepped up close to help adjust it, his breath warm on my neck. "Here, let me fix this," he muttered, his fingers grazing my collarbone as he tugged the material into place. Then he grabbed the bottle of metallic gold shimmer, squirting a generous amount into his palms. He rubbed them together before sliding his hands over my shoulders, down my arms, and across my chest in slow, deliberate strokes. The cool liquid warmed quickly under his touch, his thumbs circling my nipples almost teasingly, making them harden. A shiver ran down my spine, and I felt a stir in my groin, nothing major, but enough to make me shift uncomfortably.

"Damn, Oliver, you're looking straight-up godly," he teased, stepping back with a wink. His voice had a playful edge, but his eyes lingered on my body a second too long. Heat flooded my cheeks causing a blush I couldn't hide. "Shut up," I mumbled, laughing it off, but my heart was pounding a little faster.

Then it was his turn. I sat him down on the edge of the bed and started on his makeup, dark liner for those smoky eyes, blending it out until he looked like the brooding lord of the underworld. He tilted his head back, trusting me completely, his throat bobbing as I worked. Then came the silver body paint. I dipped my fingers into the pot and spread it across his chest, feeling the firm ridges of his pecs and abs under my palms. My hands moved lower, tracing the lines of his muscles, the paint highlighting every cut and curve. He sucked in a breath when I brushed over his nipples, and I swear I saw his cock twitch slightly beneath his toga. The room suddenly felt smaller and hotter.

We finally headed out, the cool October air nipping at our exposed skin as we walked to the frat house. The party was already in full swing, with music blasting, strobe lights pulsing through the windows, and the smell of cheap beer hitting us as soon as we stepped inside. People turned heads immediately. "Whoa, Zeus and Hades? You guys nailed it!" some girl shouted over the noise, her eyes raking over us appreciatively. A couple of the bros clapped us on the back, complimenting the details, the gold leaf crown on my head and Dylan's skull-motif helmet for the props we'd thrown together.

We were grabbing drinks and mingling when the bomb dropped. One of the sorority girls chatting with us mentioned it casually, "The contest is couples only, right? You two make such a cute pair."

My beer nearly slipped from my hand and I dragged him to am empty corner. "Couples only? What the hell, Dylan?"

He turned pale, rubbing the back of his neck. "Shit... I must've skimmed that part. Oliver, I'm sorry, man. That's a total screw-up on my end."

I was fuming, whispering harshly so no one else heard. "You drag me into this, get me all dressed up, and now we can't even compete? That five hundred was gonna buy us a killer weekend."

His face flushed with embarrassment, but he leaned in close, voice low and urgent. "We can still do it. Just... play along. Act like we're together for the night. No one knows us all that well here. We win, split the cash, and then it's all over."

I hesitated, staring into his pleading eyes. The prize money dangled like a carrot. With a sigh, I nodded. "Fine. But if this blows up, it's on you."

The contest started pretty quickly after that, the crowd gathering around a makeshift stage in the living room. We strutted up there, me brandishing my lightning bolt prop like a boss, Dylan leaning on his staff with a dark, intense stare. The judges, a mix of upperclassmen, went nuts over the details, the golden arm cuffs on me, the silver accents on his leather-like chest piece, they even liked the white contact lenses I'd popped in. "Incredible craftsmanship and theme!" one announced. When they called our names as winners, the cheers were deafening. We grabbed the envelope, grinning like idiots.

But then Jake, that jealous asshole of a frat brother, tall, bulky, and always nursing some type of grudge yelled from the back. "Hold up! Those two aren't a couple. They're just roommates. Everyone knows they're straight as hell!"

The room went quiet and people started whispering all around us. The guy who handed us the prize paused, looking uncertain. Dylan spun around, his face hardening. "That's total bullshit. We are a couple." And before I could blink, he grabbed me by the waist, pulled me flush against him, and crashed his lips onto mine.

It wasn't a peck. It was deep and hungry, his tongue invading my mouth, tasting of beer. The heat of the moment surged through me, and I was stunned, frozen for a split second, but then instinct kicked in. I leaned into it, kissing him back, my fingers tangling in his hair. My cock stirred again, hardening against his thigh, the friction sending sparks up my spine. The crowd erupted in cheers and whistles, apparently convinced of our supposed relationship.

The party kept rolling, but a group of us ended up in a circle for truth or dare, the energy turning rowdy. It started off innocent enough, embarrassing stories, chugging drinks, but things escalated fast, the dares getting bolder. Jake, still smirking like an asshole, pointed at Dylan. "Dare. Suck Oliver's cock. Right here, in front of everyone. Prove you're really together."

My stomach flipped. "No way in hell," I snapped, heart racing while my face burned red.

Jake leaned back, triumphant. "See? I knew it. You guys are fakes."

Dylan shot me a desperate glance, then turned to Jake. "We are a couple, dickhead. But I'm not putting on a show for the whole house."

Jake shrugged, his eyes gleaming. "Fine. Let's find a private room upstairs. Or… you can hand back the money."

I felt cornered, like the walls were closing in, but Dylan's pleading look, silent and urgent, convinced me. What the hell, I thought. We've come this far. I nodded reluctantly, and the group, about five people, including Jake, headed upstairs to a dimly lit bedroom. Everyone crowded in so they could see what was about to happen.

Dylan didn't waste time. He pushed me gently onto the bed, his hands steady but his breath shaky. He pulled my toga off in a rush, the costume thrown to the floor, leaving me exposed, my cock already half-hard from the tension, thickening under everyone's stares. Gasps rippled through the room. Dylan knelt between my spread legs, his dark eyes locking onto mine for a moment, almost apologetic, before he leaned in.

His mouth was warm, enveloping the head of my cock first, his lips were soft, his tongue flicking teasingly over the slit, tasting the pre-cum already beading there. I groaned low in my throat, my hips jerking involuntarily as he sucked deeper, taking me inch by inch until his nose brushed my trimmed pubes. The wet heat was intense, he bobbed slowly at first, then faster, hollowing his cheeks and made my toes curl. Spit slicked down my shaft, dripping onto my balls as he worked me, one hand cupping them gently, rolling and tugging just enough to build the pressure.

"Fuck... Dylan," I muttered, my fingers gripping his hair, guiding him. I couldn't believe my best friend was sucking my cock! He hummed around me, the vibration shooting straight to my core. Meanwhile, his free hand slipped under his own toga, fisting his cock, thick, veined, and already leaking. He stroked himself in rhythm with his sucking, his moans muffled against my skin.

The room was silent except for the wet sounds of Dylan sucking me, everyone's eyes were wide in shock. I didn't care though, pleasure coiled tight in my gut, building until I broke, cumming hard down his throat in pulsing waves. He swallowed greedily, milking every drop with his tongue until I was spent, twitching.

As I softened and slipped from his lips, Dylan rose up on his knees, his hand blurring on his shaft. His abs tensed under the silver paint, chest heaving. With a guttural moan, he came, thick ropes of cum splattering across my stomach and chest.

The group stared, jaws dropped open, and Jake was muttering something incoherent. I lay there, panting, my body humming with pleasure. But deep down, a hunger stirred. I wanted more, more of him, more of this. And luckily for me, the night wasn't over yet.

So I have this friend who's basically a tall femboy, he's like a 6'0/6'1 kinda skinny/lean and overall a good looking guy. Me on the other hand i'm like average height at best, about 5'9 and skinny. I'm basically what most would consider a "twink".

Anyways though, this friend of mine and I have hung out a lot, just enjoying time together like normal. One day though randomly at his place, we start bringing up dating lives and stuff, and he asks me why he hasn't seen me dating or flirting with anyone. And so we talk about that for a few minutes, until eventually I start to realize I literally haven't seen him dating anyone either. Then he mentions that he's been interested in me this whole time, and I really had no idea.

At the time, I was bisexual, however I had never been with or dated any guys so I was a little thrown off but I was not sure how to say it. He knew this too, and I told him that I had used dildos and stuff on my ass, just never been actually fucked.

The good thing is I told him I wanted him to fuck me, or at least stuttered it out to him. And he really led the way from there knowing I was completely down for it. He took me upstairs and then we started making out, him grabbing me, starting to slide my shirt off and then eventually he starts taking his clothes off, only leaving on his thigh high socks. And to my surprise, his dick was fucking massive. Like probably 8 inches and thick, and somehow I never noticed. It was definitely bigger than mine, and mine is decent size itself but it looked average at best compared to his.

So once he gets the rest of my clothes off, he goes back to making out with me, telling me to stroke his cock, and he strokes mine and grabs my ass a bit too. After a bit he spanks me and tells me to start sucking his cock. And I mean it was a challenge with his size, I was gagging so much and he's just watching me and occasionally playing with my hair while I suck it. Then after that he tells me to get on the bed, turn around and bend over. And he gets a ton of lube applied, knowing my hole is still gonna be tight. He asks if I want him to use a condom or not, and I tell him no. Once I told him that he knew I was his. And I was about to find out too.

He started sliding his huge cock slowly into me, letting me adjust to his size. Once it was all the way in and i'm already moaning, he grabbed be my hips and spanked me a bit telling me "i'm not even moving yet." Then he started moving, slowly at first which I certainly appreciated. But it didn't take long before he was ramming my tight ass, and i'm moaning like a bitch. And he made it clear, spanking my ass and calling me a good girl while he pounded my ass. I was moaning like a total slut by then, grabbing the sheets and the pillow. Eventually he stops, and lays down telling me to come ride his dick.

So I do, thinking I would control the pace. Lol no chance, he let me go slow for a little bit then he grabbed me by my hips and went right back to slamming his huge cock deep in me. The sounds of him slamming into me and me moaning like a complete slut were so loud I thought the neighbors might have heard me. And he's not slowing down, i'm just taking that pounding and moaning.

And then after awhile he flips us into missionary, and he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, with my knees to my chest and feet on his shoulders. When this happened, I was blushing kinda hard because he was very attractive like I said. That was the most submissive moment i've ever had in my life, and by that point I didn't think he could go harder, and I still got absolutely railed. He was fucking my brains out, just every inch slamming into me and it seems like he wasn't even close yet. And all I could do is moan his name loudly and take every inch while he pounded me.

Eventually he switches his grip so that my wrists are pinned by one of his hands, and he used the other to start jerking me off. His thrusts slowed down a bit then as he focused on making me cum all over my self, which certainly didn't take long. He made me cum all over myself, calling me a good girl as I squirted easily the biggest load of my life all over my own chest and stomach. And then he tells me he's gonna fill me with his cum now since I came first. And he pounded me right in missionary a bit longer, still keeping me pinned down until his thrusts turned into slower but still deep thrusts. Then I felt his thick cock spasming in me and I told him yes daddy please fill me up.

That he did, once he pulled out I was absolutely stretched out and leaking his cum. That was something I will never forget, and I know he won't either. Absolutely turned me into a complete slut for his cock.

[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!

Want to find the full story and so much more high quality smut? Check my bio!

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

I was on the couch when he knocked.

My sister Susan had been gone for three days with her girlfriends after the breakup. Her stuff was still half-packed in boxes by the door. I had the place to myself until she decided whether she was coming back or not. The knock was two hard hits. I opened it and Bulk filled the doorway. Her ex. 26yo. Firefighter. Dumb and loud.

He was bigger than I remembered from the last time he’d been over. Tank top stuck to his chest. Arms out. The left one was covered in black and gray from shoulder to wrist — a cat face on the upper arm, Celtic knots lower down, thick lines that moved when he flexed. His hair was messy from the gym. Short beard. He smelled like sweat and the inside of a locker room. The gray shorts sat low. He had a duffel in one hand.

“Susan said I could grab the rest of my shit,” he said. Voice low. He didn’t wait for me to answer. He walked past me into the living room. “She’s not here, right?”

“No.”

“Good.” He dropped the duffel. Looked at me. Really looked. “You always stare at my arms like that when she’s around too, or is it just when she’s not?”

I didn’t answer. He smirked. Lifted the tattooed arm and flexed. The bicep jumped. The pit opened. Dark hair dampened. Sweat. The smell hit me from where I was standing.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” He flexed again, slower. “She dumped me three days ago. Said I was too much. Too loud. Too everything. So now I don’t have to pretend I didn’t notice you looking. And you’re lucky today. Gym got me horny as fuck.”

He stepped closer. The tank top rode up a little. Abs. A line of dark hair. More sweat at the waistband. He raised the arm higher, right in front of my face.

“Kiss my bicep, bitch.”

I did. The skin was hot. Salty. He made me do the other arm too. Then he turned, lifted both arms, and told me to lick. I pressed my face into the left pit first. The hair was damp. The smell was strong — gym, deodorant that had given up after the intense workout. He kept me there until I licked it clean. Then the other side. Same thing. My cock was already hard in my shorts. He noticed.

He made me stay on the pit longer the second time. Pressed my face in until I couldn’t breathe right. The hair was coarse. Wet. I licked until my tongue hurt. When he finally pulled me off, my chin was shiny. He looked down at me and flexed again, slow, so the muscle jumped right in front of my eyes.

“This is what an alpha male looks like, your little bitch. On your knees.”

I dropped. He hooked his thumbs in the gray shorts and pulled them down. No underwear. His cock came out heavy. Long. Thick. Already half-hard. He grabbed the back of my head with one hand and pulled me forward.

“Balls first. Kiss the balls.”

I licked them. They were warm. Sweaty. He made me take one in my mouth, then the other, while he flexed the tattooed arm above me so I could still see it. Then he pulled me up by the hair and fed me his cock. No warning. The head hit the back of my throat on the first push. I gagged. He didn’t stop. Both hands on my head now. He fucked my face hard. Short, deep strokes. The curve wasn’t there — it was straight and long and he used all of it. Spit ran down my chin. Tears. Throat slime. He talked the whole time.

“This is what you wanted, right? Every time you looked at my arms. Every time you pretended you weren’t staring. Susan’s little brother on his knees with my dick in his throat. Yeah. Take it.”

He didn’t ease it in. Grabbed my hair with both hands and shoved. The head hit the back of my throat and kept going. I gagged hard. Spit poured out. He held me there for a second, then started fucking again. Brutal. Short strokes that used my throat like it was nothing. The tattooed arm stayed flexed above me the whole time. I could see the cat and the knots moving every time he thrust.

Tears ran. He didn’t slow down. Just kept talking, low and mean, about how Susan never took it this deep, how she’d complained, how I wasn’t complaining. When he pulled out to come he aimed high.

“Take my nut, little bitch. Don’t you dare run away. FUCK YEAH!”

The first rope hit my forehead and ran into my hair. The second crossed my nose. He stroked through it, grunting, covering my cheeks, my lips, my chin. Thick. Hot. It dripped onto my shirt before he was done. He watched the last of it land, then wiped the head across my lower lip and stood up.

“Tell your prude sister I got my stuff,” he said. “And don’t wipe that off until I’m gone.”

He left. The door shut. I stayed on my knees with his cum cooling on my face and the taste of his pits still in my mouth. My phone was on the couch. I didn’t touch it. I just breathed.

Everyone is over 18

Part 1

Quick recap: I joined an amateur football team, hoping for a new challenge and a sense that I finally belonged somewhere. After my first really good game, I discovered that the guys had an unusual rule: after a win, the whole team blew off steam by jerking off together in the locker room. When they invited me to join them, I realized I was no longer just the new guy, but truly one of the team.

A few days after that first win, I noticed that something had really changed.

I wasn't just the new guy who had shown up because the team was short on players anymore. The guys were more relaxed around me. They slapped me on the back after good plays, joked with me in the locker room, and no longer made that brief pause that used to happen sometimes when the conversation turned to girls, sex, or bodies.

After one practice, all of us were sitting around the locker room in nothing but our boxer briefs. We were sweaty, exhausted, and in that good mood that came after a really hard workout. Someone was checking sprint times. Mason complained that his thighs felt like rocks. Carter bragged that he'd beaten everyone in the gym again. Logan immediately said Carter would turn breathing into a competition if he thought he could win it.

Blake laughed quietly.

"Everything on this team has to be a statistic."

"Because statistics don't lie," Carter replied.

Tyler looked at him, then at me, and grinned stupidly.

"If we're measuring everything, maybe we should finally measure our cocks."

The locker room immediately erupted in laughter.

I shook my head, trying to pretend it hadn't affected me.

But Carter was already looking straight at me.

"What? We've got Matt. For once, someone can judge fairly."

A few of the guys laughed again, but nobody backed away from the idea.

Quite the opposite.

Suddenly, everyone looked like that stupid joke had just turned into something much more interesting.

I looked at them one by one.

"If you really want me to," I said calmly, "I can do it."

That made the laughter die down a little.

At first, everyone still acted like it was only a joke. Tyler laughed the loudest, Mason kept shaking his head, Logan pretended the whole thing was beneath him, and Carter looked like he'd just heard the best idea of the week.

Blake sat on the bench with a towel draped around his neck, watching us calmly like a captain who knew there was no point trying to stop the team once they had started winding themselves up.

"All right," Carter said, standing up first. "If we're measuring, we're doing it properly."

"Of course you're first," Logan muttered.

"Someone has to set the standard."

Tyler opened one of the equipment lockers and started digging through it.

"What are you doing?" Mason asked.

"Finding the most important piece of football equipment we've ever used."

A second later, Tyler turned around with a tape measure in his hand and a grin on his face.

I looked at him in disbelief.

"Why do you have a tape measure in the locker room?"

"Because it's football," he replied, like that explained everything. "There's always something to measure."

The guys laughed again, but this time there was something different underneath it.

Something heavier.

More nervous.

A few of them adjusted their boxer briefs.

Carter stood in front of me with his hands on his hips, looking more and more pleased with himself. Mason kept joking that it was stupid, but he didn't leave. Logan looked away, but he stayed. Hunter, leaning against a locker, only raised an eyebrow.

Tyler handed me the tape measure.

I took it, and suddenly I felt the entire locker room watching me.

"If you want accurate results," I said, trying to sound calm, "we can't do this through boxer briefs."

For a second, the room went silent.

Then Carter's grin widened.

"Well, I guess we all know what to do."

He was the first to hook his thumbs under the waistband and slowly pull his boxer briefs down over his hips.

The others followed.

One by one.

No embarrassment.

No avoiding each other's eyes.

They looked more like players lining up for another test than men stripping completely naked in front of one another.

A moment later, they were standing naked in front of me.

And I was holding a tape measure, trying not to show how ridiculously happy I was that I'd actually joined this team.

"If I'm going to measure you fairly," I said, lifting the tape measure, "you need to be fully hard."

Only after I said it did I realize how absurd it sounded.

For a second, the locker room went quiet.

Then Tyler burst out laughing, Carter's grin widened, and Mason shook his head like he still couldn't believe we were actually doing this.

"Weirdest team test in history," Tyler muttered.

And yet nobody backed out.

They stood naked in front of me, side by side, like they were waiting for some athletic measurement, except instead of sprint speed, strength, or reaction time, each of them was slowly moving a hand over his cock.

Carter, of course, turned it into a performance. He looked at me shamelessly, like he already knew he'd have something to brag about.

Blake was calmer, confident without needing to say anything.

Logan pretended to be bored, but his body gave away that he was taking it more seriously than he wanted to admit.

Mason laughed under his breath.

Tyler kept commenting on everything until his own breathing started getting heavier.

Hunter stayed silent, leaning against the locker, but one look at him was enough to know he had no intention of coming in last.

Once they were ready, I walked over to Blake first.

I carefully placed the tape measure, checked the number, and swallowed.

"Eight inches."

Blake only smiled slightly.

Carter stepped in front of me next, practically vibrating with impatience.

"Eight and a quarter," I said.

He immediately looked at Logan like he'd just scored a point.

Logan rolled his eyes, but when I measured him, the locker room got louder.

"Eight and a half."

"Bullshit," Carter said.

Mason burst out laughing.

Then I measured him.

"Seven and a half."

"With those thighs, nobody's going to complain anyway," Tyler said.

Tyler was just under eight inches.

And then came Hunter.

I placed the tape measure, looked at the result, and didn't say anything for a moment.

"Almost nine."

The locker room exploded with laughter, whistles, and protests.

Hunter just shrugged.

Like it genuinely didn't impress him at all.

When I finished measuring them, nobody got dressed right away.

That was probably the strangest part of the whole situation.

The test was over.

The results had been announced.

Hunter had officially destroyed everyone's ego, Logan was pretending he wasn't pleased with himself at all, and Carter was still muttering that half an inch didn't prove anything.

And yet they were all still standing around the locker room, naked, hard, and too worked up to simply go back to normal.

Tyler looked around at them, then at me, and gave me a wicked grin.

"Would be a shame to waste results like these."

Mason laughed.

"We're already hard," Carter added. "Might as well finish."

For a moment, I just looked at them.

A few days earlier, I'd thought that post-game routine had been something special.

One strange, hot welcome to the team.

Now I understood that in this locker room, all it took was a good mood, a little competition, and a handful of guys who were way too confident for everything to head in the same direction again.

Blake looked at me calmly.

"You joining?"

I didn't answer right away.

I simply set the tape measure down on the bench, pulled off my boxer briefs, and stepped in among them.

This time, there wasn't the same shock as before.

There was awareness.

Their bodies.

Their looks.

Their hands.

Carter stroked himself quickly, like he still had something to prove.

Logan went slower, more controlled, but his breathing gave everything away.

Mason kept laughing under his breath until he started moaning too.

Tyler lost his joking tone with every passing second.

Hunter was the quietest, but the tension in his body said enough.

One by one, they came.

Carter first, loud and shameless.

Logan a moment later, quieter but harder.

Mason muttered a curse.

Tyler threw his head back and finally stopped talking.

Blake came calmly, breathing heavily.

Hunter lasted the longest.

And when he finally broke, the whole locker room went quiet for a moment.

I came with them, my hand wrapped tightly around myself and the tape measure lying beside me on the bench like evidence of the strangest team test of my life.

After that first win, I learned about their routine.

After the measurement test, I realized that on this team, any competition could end exactly the same way.

First part here

All characters are 18+

The bedroom was steeped in darkness. The curtains were drawn and the bedsheets were bunched at the end of his feet. Charlie lay sideways on the bed, his head buried in his arms and his pillow trapped somewhere underneath him. I stood at his door and smiled.

“Morning” I said, and the young man groaned.

There were times when I thoroughly enjoyed the fact that I rarely drank, anymore. I strolled across his bedroom and dragged open the curtains so that daylight could spill into the cave, and Charlie groaned, again.

“What time is it?” He moaned, and I checked my phone.

“Nearly eleven. Your mom’s pissed that you missed church”.

“Fuck” he whined.

Charlie was still dressed the way I’d left him. He wore only a pair of boxer briefs and had his legs curled up near his chest. For a man, my best friend had a surprisingly good ass.

“I brought you something” I said, pressing two headache pills into his hand and setting a bottle of water down next to him. It took him a moment to find the energy to take them, but he eventually sat up and rubbed his tired eyes.

“How much did I drink last night?” He asked, throwing the pills into his mouth and gulping down a few mouthfuls of water.

“Four, apparently” I shrugged, and Charlie squinted.

“Huh?”

“No idea” I smiled.

I’d spent much of the night trying to forget what I’d seen on Charlie’s phone, but it was proving difficult. I couldn’t take my mind off the fact that my best friend was hiding a pretty significant secret from me, nor could I forget the mental image of him sitting on a dildo. I glanced around the room and briefly wondered where he kept it, before pushing it from my head.

“Thanks for getting me home last night” he said, swinging his legs from the bed and burying his head in his hands as the room spun.

“Don’t mention it” I replied, watching as he dragged himself to his feet. He hadn’t noticed it, yet, but Charlie was sporting some serious morning wood as he stumbled toward his bedroom door. I looked away and smiled to myself as he disappeared into the bathroom and showered.

I’d never questioned his sexuality. Maybe, I just hadn’t noticed anything that had made me suspicious, but as I sat in his bedroom, I began to think about it, properly. He’d never had a long term girlfriend. Sure, there were some brief relationships that fizzled out within a few weeks, but he’d never settled down with anybody.

He commented on women all the time. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realised that Charlie commented on women far more than anybody else in our friend group. Was he trying to compensate for something else? The longer I thought about it, the more confused I became, until eventually, he returned from the bathroom, dripping wet, with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“Feel better?” I asked, and he nodded his head.

“Much”.

It didn’t feel like something that I could just bring up. After all, if Charlie was gay then it was clearly a secret that he wasn’t ready to talk about and who was I to force him to change that? I watched as he covered himself with the corner of the white towel and began to dry the rest of his muscular body.

“You know you can talk to me about shit, right?” I blurted, and Charlie paused what he was doing and glanced at me.

“Huh?”

“I just mean… If you ever have shit on your mind. You can talk to me”.

I could feel my cheeks tingling as he squinted at me, confused, before finally scoffing. “Yeah, bro” he said, still staring. “I know”.

What more could I do? If Charlie knew that he could talk to me about his personal issues and he still chose not to, then I couldn’t exactly make him. I shifted awkwardly on his bed and watched as he turned his back to me and dropped his towel. How had I never noticed how good his ass was, before?

“I need food, bro” he grunted, as he pulled a fresh pair of boxer briefs up his legs. He was dressed a few minutes later and the two of us walked toward his door. “Damn, my keys” he said, and without thinking, I reached over and pulled open his nightstand and just as my eyes landed on the same, large brown sex toy that I’d seen in the video, Charlie had already shoved me aside and slammed the drawer shut. “Never mind” he almost yelped, “got them”.

He knew I’d seen it. I knew he knew I’d seen it. His face was already turning red and the pitch of his voice confirmed it. We stared at each other for a moment and I could almost hear the frantic beating of his heart, and then I shrugged and returned to the door.

“Cool” I said, and we left.

The drive was rather awkward. For the first few minutes neither of us spoke and a little while later, we both tried to speak at the same time. Silence fell, again, until Charlie forced some words out.

“Did uh… Did you have fun last night?” He swallowed, his eyes pinned to his shoes.

“Yeah” I nodded, “it was good. Did you?”

“I think so” he half laughed. “I can’t really remember it”.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I wanted to tell him what I knew. I wanted to tell my best friend that I didn’t care whether he was gay or not, and that I didn’t care what toys he used to enjoy himself in the privacy of his own bedroom. I wanted to say a lot of things to Charlie, but he was eager to get out and the young man quickly yanked off his seatbelt and bolted from the car.

“Just a coffee for me, please” I smiled at the young waitress before Charlie ordered half the menu. I truly had no idea how he had such an impressive physique and still managed to eat like a hog. When the woman returned with my coffee, I sipped it.

“Are we good, bro?” He asked, looking out the window rather than at me.

“Uh… Yeah?” I replied, “why wouldn’t we be?”

“No reason” he shrugged, but I could tell that he was still reeling from my discovery in his nightstand.

“Look, man” I said, but the waitress returned with his plate of pancakes and my voice trailed off.

“Want some?” He asked, and I shook my head.

“What I was going to say–”

“Here you go, sir” the waitress said, again, as she set down a plate of bacon. I was becoming increasingly frustrated. I needed Charlie to know that I didn’t care about his secret. I needed him to know that he didn’t need to keep a secret, so i took another breath.

“Dude, I don’t–”

“Can I get you two anything else?” The woman smiled, and I clenched my jaw so hard that I was surprised it didn’t break.

“No, thanks” Charlie mumbled as he stuffed his mouth with food. “What were you saying, bro?” He asked, as the waitress walked away, but I’d lost my nerve.

“Nothing” I replied, and took another sip of my coffee.

Was it really such a big deal? Was it really a conversation that I needed to have with him? If my best friend was gay, then that was his business. I sat back and noticed that every few minutes, Charlie picked up his phone and began to text.

“You must have a new girlfriend” I joked, and he smirked at me.

“Jealous?” He asked, and I scoffed.

It was a low blow from both of us. I already knew that the person he was texting was likely the same person who he had impaled himself on a dildo for, and that person wasn’t a chick. Charlie knew that I was still salty about my recent breakup. I set my cup of coffee down and stared at him until he noticed me and stared back.

“I don’t care about what was in your nightstand” I said, and the colour drained from his face. Perhaps, he’d thought that I hadn’t noticed it.

“Huh?” He gulped, trying to play it cool, but failing, instantly. “I… It wasn’t mine” he lied, “I was hooking up with some chick and… She uh… She just…”

“Charlie” I said, cutting him off. “I don’t care, bro”.

He blinked at me for a moment before setting his fork down and wiping his mouth with a napkin. I could see how uncomfortable he was, and I felt a punch of guilt for putting him in an awkward position.

“Um, thanks” he said, looking down at his plate. “Just… Please don’t tell the guys”.

“Your secret’s safe with me, man” I smiled, and then Charlie looked back up at me with a strange glint in his eye.

“All of them?” He asked, and my heart skipped a beat.

(I’d posted the first part of this but had gotten a bunch of requests to share what happened after, so here’s the whole thing.)

I had been on a date with a guy that had been going really well. He was really attractive and after dinner had invited me to his place to try his apartment’s new hot tub.

We got to his place and he tossed me a pair of his swim trunks for me to borrow. They were a little loose on me, but it was kind of sexy feeling them slipping down my hips as I walked. I figured they’d stay on in the hot tub though.

We had a couple drinks, both of us in our trunks, before he led me outside his building to the pool area. The water felt amazing as he turned on the jets. I was definitely feeling the buzz and we were both getting flirtier by the second.

We started kissing, and before long he was playing with my nipples which made my whole body shudder. His hand quickly traveled down my abdomen, slipping into my swim trunks. I almost gasped as I pulled back.

I squirmed a little as he gripped my cock. I realized I was blushing because he could feel I was already rock hard. He was grinning. I was grateful the hot tub jets were still going.

“I wanna take off your trunks.” He said it so directly, I could feel my cock pulse. He felt it too because he started gently stroking me.

I asked if he was going to take off his and he just said “maybe.”

I couldn’t believe it but I felt myself submitting. I lifted myself slightly in the water and he tugged off my trunks, stripping me completely naked. He took my swimsuit and tossed it several feet away from the hot tub, then kissed me, his hand gripping my cock possessively. I was trying not to moan, suddenly afraid someone would come down and see us.

“Sit up on the ledge.” I almost couldn’t breathe when he said that. But I was so turned on, I obeyed. Dripping wet and completely bare, I sat up on the ledge. If anyone was watching from the windows, they’d be seeing all of me. He told me to open my legs, but when I hesitated, he gently opened them for me, exposing achingly hard penis.

I closed my eyes out of sheer humiliation, then felt his mouth on me. This time I couldn’t help moaning.

In a blur, I came harder than I ever had before. Then I heard the gate to the pool area nearby. Someone had seen me.

My heart pounded as I jumped back into the hot tub. He just laughed and gripped my cock under the water, tormenting my sensitive tip as I squirmed. When he made me get out of the hot tub to get my swimsuit, I was already hard again.

I felt like I was in a trance as he played with my tip. Finally, he suggested I go get my trunks. I asked him to get them for me but he just grinned again and shook his head.

I found myself involuntarily thrusting into his hand under the water as he played with me. I reached over and touched his bulge through his swimsuit. He was raging hard. I asked him again to take off his suit, but he was loving having me at a disadvantage. He whispered something about accepting my fate and I knew I was beaten.

I stood up in the hot tub, baring myself completely and stepped out. Dripping wet and utterly naked, I rushed to my trunks, but he jumped out of the tub and got them first. He playfully whipped me with them, laughing as I jumped back into the tub to cover myself.

Then the jets stopped. My naked body was completely visible through the water. At this point two (very attractive) guys came down to swim in the pool next to us. I begged him as quietly as I could to turn the jets back on as anyone coming close would be able to see all of me.

One of the guys got out of the pool to join us and my heart was beating out of my chest. At the last second, he turned the jets on, thankfully covering me. My tormentor played with my trunks as the guy chatted with us for a while, wanting to draw attention to the fact someone wasn’t wearing a suit.

I honestly couldn’t tell you what we talked about, I was in such a blur of horniness. The two guys finally left, and only then did I realize I had been touching myself the whole time.

My date said something like “let’s see you,” and I stood up in the hot tub in front of him. He told me to move my hands, as I was covering myself, and I finally gave up, feeling like I was accepting my naked defeat. I swear he looked at my cock hungrily, simply reaching out and holding it.

Dripping wet and utterly naked, I started thrusting into his hand again. I heard the gate close again but at this point I didn’t even care. He licked my tip and it wasn’t long before I was going off like a rocket.

He’s been teasing me about it constantly via text and requesting naked selfies. The teasing was so hot, I finally confessed that I had posted on here. He loved that people wanted to hear more and told me he wanted me completely naked when I typed my next post…

When I go on work trip I'm always horny, so as soon as I get to the airport I whip out the apps. I've always fantasized about having fun in between flights, but never happened before because of the rush, the fact that airports are usually very crowded and I actullay never found somebody attractive for me interested.

Today I was lucky though, I found a guy and like in 5 minutes we were in a more peripheral toilet area, we waited a few minutes and we managed to slip into a box in a rare moment where nobody was there. He didn't loose any time, he immediately untied my pants and we started to touch each other.

He was few years older than me but fit and big pecs with nice nipples that I gladly licked and nibbled. We sucked each other and he ended up cumming into my mouth.

During the whole thing (ten minutes top) he kept signaling me to be quiet, at first I thought because he didn't want to be heard by the people outside, of course. But then he kept making the silence sign and then pointing to his earplugs. I realized he was in a conference call or something.

Not much of a sorry honesty, but for me it was so hot, and I really like the idea of sucking and being sucked by a guy in a cool in an airport bathroom.

Read Part 4 here

--

The weather turned the moment they stepped out of the car.

Rain came down in heavy, wind-driven sheets that soaked them in seconds. By the time they had dragged the bags from the boot and ran their way up the short path, water was running down the backs of their necks, soaking them to the skin.

Inside, the cottage felt smaller than the photos had promised. One main living space that bled into a small kitchen, a short hallway, two bedroom doors, and a single bathroom. The air smelled of the wood burner from the main living room. Rain hammered the windows from outside.

Oliver dropped his bag and tried the second bedroom door, it didn’t budge. It was locked and in the house manual, he found a note saying it was being redecorated.

Oliver told Liam, Liam stared at him. “You’re fucking joking.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Oliver’s voice was flat. He pushed wet hair back from his forehead. “We have no signal either, we’re not calling anyone.”

The argument that followed was short, whose fault the booking was, why their parents hadn’t double-checked. How exactly two people who could barely share a car were supposed to share one double bed. They argument flared but then petered out under the noise of the rain and the fact that both of them were wet and cold.

“Fine,” Liam said at last, “We can manage, it’s a double bed and we can take separate sides. Just be sure not to touch me.”

Oliver’s mouth twitched. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Oliver took his bag into their now shared room, Liam followed.

They stripped off their shirts, they peeled off with a soft, sticky sound. Oliver’s torso came into view first, broad, solid, the kind of muscle that came from real physical work, a hairy chest but with a faint trail of hair darkening below his navel, the clear outline of his cock against his wet boxers where the rain had soaked through. Liam’s own shirt clung stubbornly; when he finally dragged it off, water ran down the lean lines of his chest and stomach. He was narrower, less heavily built, little hair, but the cold had tightened his nipples and the wet fabric of his jeans left little to the imagination.

Neither of them looked away as quickly as they should have. The awkward silence stretched, with only the sound of rain outside.

“I think we should both shower,” Oliver said eventually. His voice had gone rougher. “You go first.”

Liam took a towel from the pile left on the bed and walked down the short hall without answering.

He had barely stepped under the hot spray when the bathroom door opened. Oliver stood in the doorway exactly as he had that morning, shoulder against the frame, making no move to leave. But this time, he was only wearing his boxers. Steam from the shower began to fill the small space, Oliver tried to make small talk.

Liam didn’t tell him to get out, and Oliver didn’t offer to.

Water ran down Liam’s shoulders and chest. He could feel Oliver’s eyes on him even though the glass shower door had steamed up. Liam felt Oliver’s gaze, the scrutiny was heavy, almost physical. Liam’s cock, which had been half-hard since the car, began to fill properly under the attention. He didn’t turn away from it; he let Oliver look.

When he finally shut the water off and opened the shower door, he was fully hard. Water still ran down his body. He reached for his towel he had left on the rail and started to dry off.

Oliver stepped forward and his hand settled on Liam’s waist, the same place it had that morning. It stayed there for a moment, thumb stroking once across his wet skin, then slid lower without hesitation. His fingers wrapped around Liam’s cock, they were firm, Oliver gave a slow stroke, feeling the weight of it, the way it thickened further in his grip. He watched Liam’s face the entire time. Liam blushed and went red; his hips made a small, involuntary push into the touch. Oliver smiled, knowing that Liam liked it, and gave one more deliberate stroke, thumb swiping across the head where moisture had gathered that had nothing to do with the shower.

Then he let go and stepped back.

“I better go and get ready for the shower,” Oliver said, and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.

Liam stood there breathing hard, cock still rigid and wet, the phantom pressure of Oliver’s fingers vivid enough to make his thighs tense. He dried off slowly, trying to will his erection down and failing. When he finally dressed in clean joggers and a T-shirt, the fabric tented obviously.

They barely looked at each other when Liam came back into the bedroom. Oliver was there the solid expanse of his chest and stomach came into view again. He glanced once at the front of Liam’s joggers and then away.

Oliver stepped away and removed his boxers, standing naked for a moment longer than necessary, his broad back, the heavy curve of his arse, the thick hang of his cock, already half-hard. He walked past Liam on his way to the bathroom. As he stepped past Liam, his hand moved almost without thought, a brief, deliberate brush of fingers across the warm curve of Oliver’s ass, slow enough to be unmistakable.

Oliver paused, the muscles under Liam’s fingers flexed, then he kept going and Liam heard the shower start.

Liam shut the door, he leaned against it, exhaled shakily, and pressed the heel of his hand against the hard line of his cock through the joggers. The memory of Oliver’s grip was still sharp, the exact pressure, the slow stroke, the smile. He rubbed himself once, twice, then forced his hand away. He didn’t want to cum like this, alone and in a rush, when the reason for his horn was in the shower.

He combed his hair and then went back out to the kitchenette before the water in the bathroom shut off. He filled the kettle, then unpacked the shopping they collected en-route and set about making a basic dinner.

A few minutes later, Oliver came out of the bedroom, freshly dressed from his shower.

“Look, that was a one-time mistake,” Oliver muttered, not quite meeting Liam’s eyes. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” Liam said, though his voice was quieter than before.

Oliver stepped closer, then stopped himself. “It can’t happen again.”

Liam swallowed. “I know.”

Oliver held his gaze a second too long. “Good.”

“Good,” Liam echoed, looking away first.

 --

Follow the link in my bio to read more

Open to critique! This my recount of a series of hookups I had a few years ago.

I (28 at the time) was horny one night on Grindr when a near blank profile messaged me; 46, white, above average sized cock.

“Hey” - all he started with, I knew I’d have to carry the conversation to get anywhere

“Hey, how’re you going?” I responded.

“Horny” all he returned back.

Less than a km away and I’m feeling pretty horny too.

“Want some help? :p” - tongue face to look cute and come off indifferent. He sends me his address soon after. It’s walking distance so I tell him I’ll meet him in 20.

He just replies with “good”.

I arrive at his place, it’s a small unit on one of the nicer side streets. He greets me at the door, tells me to take my shoes off and walks into his living room. He stands there with his arms crossed, in pajama pants and a white tshirt and I walk over, get on my knees and fish out his cock and lick his head. It’s already slick with precum. I get something out of him, a moan but I don’t think it’s a sexual moan. He grabs the back of my head and thrusts his cock into my mouth, hitting my throat rough. A couple thrusts and he whispers “cumming” before unloading in my mouth and on my tongue. It’s smokers cum, quite bitter but I’m not one to complain. He slips his cock back into his pants and tells me “pull the door tight when you leave” before sitting down and watching tv. I walked 20 minutes for a 20 second blowjob and now I’m walking home.

My minds reeling. I’m angry I wasted my time for that, I feel a bit gross from swallowing that guys cum and I’m still fucking horny. The whole experience was bullshit! But some small part of me liked how used I felt. A fetish to be filed away for later in life I thought, until a few days later.

“Hey” - same guy messaging me again. My first thought is to ignore it but he sends a picture alongside it. His big cock leaking just a bit of precum.

“Hey man” - I reply back, semi annoyed at myself.

“Come suck me again” he replies. “Drive this time, I don’t want to wait.”

Well shit. I can’t drive. But I guess the Uber would be cheap. Checking the app I see there’s someone 2 minutes away and it’s a 5 minute drive. ‘I guess my main issue was the walk’ I justify to myself so I book it. I get on a singlet and track pants to look the part I’m playing.

I arrive at his place but this time he doesn’t greet me, just tells me the doors open. He’s sitting on his couch with his cock out, I walk over and get to work. He lets me nurse his balls for a bit but it’s not long before he’s pushing his prick into my mouth. A few more thrusts and he whispers again “cumming” but this time he rams his cock down my throat as he’s unloading. I can feel it hitting the sides and just let it happen. At least I didn’t have to taste it this time.

I get up wipe my mouth and he looks at me a couple seconds before looking out the window. “It’s raining. Good thing you drove” - fuck this guy.

I don’t want to admit I Uber’d over to suck his cock so I walk home again, rain on my shoulders contemplating why the fuck I did that again and why the fuck was my dick so hard? I get home, pull it out, drenched in precum and shoot a huge load all over myself. It’s only a couple days before I hear from him again.

“You take it in the ass?”

“Yep”

“Drive over”

I don’t know what I expected. Was I going over there to sit on a cock that’d just immediately unload in me? I got lucky with the Uber again, being 3 minutes away, got to his house and let myself in. He’s naked, lubing his hard cock up. He’s not lying on his profile, it’s probably 7 inches and has an upwards curve so it’s a good quality dick. “Get naked and on your hands and knees” he says and I comply. He rubs some lube off his cock and pretty roughly applies it to my hole, sliding his finger into me. I moan and he pulls his finger out and pushes me down lower. He aligns with my hole and pretty expertly slides in. That curve hits my gspot almost instantly and I meet his thrusts quickly. Unfortunately the rhythm doesn’t work in my favour very long because after a few more thrusts the familiar “cumming” is uttered. He grabs my hips and pushes deep in me, unloading hard with his dick quivering against my prostate.

He doesn’t waste time, he pulls out fast and gets up and towels himself off. He throws the towel aside instead of giving it me so I just grab my clothes and go. Walking home with his load leaking out of me. I’m pretty content with feeling like a sex doll.

A few days later, “come suck me” - we’re dropping pleasantries now. “Walk over this time, I have some things I need to do” - cool with me, it’s my off week for pay and Ubers are a costly decision even if they do result in me getting used. At this point, I know I’m going over to swallow his load and go home; foreplay is a waste of time, I just want his cum. I get there, he’s on the couch and I go to work. I don’t waste time on licking his balls or teasing his head, I just inhale his cock. “Good boy” he growls and I get dizzy. I’m pumping away at his cock and he’s building up but I was already cumming! Praise from this jerk and I’m creaming myself without even touching myself. I’m moaning with his prick in my mouth.

He grabs my hair roughly and I expect him to unload down my throat but he pulls me off his cock and lowers me down. He tugs on his rod and busts a nut all over my face. I can barely close my eyes in time before he hits me.

“Leave it on your face” he says and pulls up his pants.

“What do you mean?” I reply

“Walk home with my load on your face.” He comes back with, almost sternly. He cracks a smile.

Have you ever cum without jerking yourself off? I dunno about you but the post nut clarity did not kick in for me. I did as I was told. I walked home at midnight with a gnarly load running down my face and a stiffy leading the way. Once I got home I took a photo of myself with what was left of his load and sent it through. No response of course but I felt like it was my duty.

Unfortunately I ended up moving after that last encounter. As soon as I wasn’t less than a km away he didn’t need me anymore. I notice there’s a cute twink close to him, at least on the grid so maybe someone else is giving him his 1 minute of pleasure every few nights. Who knows?

This is a completely real story and happened back in like 2010. I was 19, in college, played on the lacrosse team and exploring my sexuality. I stayed fit and was nick named JLo cause I had a bit of a bubble butt.

what the guys on the team didnt know was that after practice I would look on craigslist and mostly just jack off to anyone attractive. Eventually one night I dont know what came over me but I finally responded to this gorgeous older bear who was looking for a college jock. He was in his mid 50s with a bit of a belly and not the largest dick, but something about him made me want to let him have his way with me.

I messaged him and we chat for a little while and he invited me over. I snuck out of the house in a t-shit and shorts and met him outside his apartment building which was about 10 mins away. As we took the elevator up he grab my ass and said we are going to have some fun.

I was so nervous I didnt know what to do, but as he unlocked his apartment and led me in he kissed me deeply and I melted. I immediately kissed him back and felt for his cock. I fumbled at his belt and he pushed me to my knees as I pulled his boxers down. He grew hard as I sucked on him and he really wasnt that long but was thick. He would moan as he held the back of my head, pressing me all the way down to the back of my throat.

After a short while of blowing him he asked if I was ready to be fucked, which is what I really wanted. Blowing him was fine but I wanted to feel him inside me. I dropped my shorts, revealing I was commando and climbed onto his bed. He asked if he needed a condom and I said no, I want you to cum in me.

I heard him open a drawer and a moment later felt lube hit my hole. I had played with a few toys but he was going to be my first real dick. He slowly put a finger in then a second, but they didnt stay in me for long. I felt him press his cock against me and he slide right in. It felt so good! But also so wrong. This man was so much older and just using me to get off.... and yet I was enjoying it.

He started to fuck me harder and it just kept feeling better! I wish it could have gone on for longer but he gripped my hips suddenly and pushed in deeper. He grunted and I moaned as I felt him shoot his load deep into my ass! He lasted maybe 5 mins fucking my virgin ass.

As he pulled out I felt a sudden wave of guilt. I mumbled thank you as I put my shorts back on, his cum already leaking out of my ass. He said my pleasure and walked me to the door still naked.

If you get off on very slow-burn psychological corrosion, humiliating power games, fucked up denial, and a straight guy getting dragged into filth he can’t escape… you're welcome. Next chapter is on the way here! Check out my profile for early access, NOAH'S POV, images of the cast, selfies!

This is all fiction. All characters are 18+

Previous chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen (P1) | Thirteen (P2) | Fourteen (P1) | Fourteen (P2) | Fifteen | Sixteen (P1) | Sixteen (P2)

(college, mast, dom, big cock, auth, sub, jock, teasing, manipulation, cum denial, humiliation, feet, armpit, sweat, mindfuck, gym, gooning, straight to gay, nipple play, pheromones, primal, sloppy, edging, pre cum, edging, condescension, consensual non-consent, praise kink, ass play, rimming, anal orgasm, public, big sub small top, piss, cum play, brainwashing, public, caged, spanking)

DUDE THIS IS A GOOD ONE LMAO

---

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - GRAVITY

A cheap, sugary scent clung to the air, the kind that didn’t belong anywhere near a gym. He never got why some girls doused themselves before working out.

Liam walked in like he always did, hoodie on, earbuds in. Just… slower. He kept his eyes forward. Like he wasn’t scanning. Like he wasn’t hoping to catch a smirk from the front desk,

A voice calling him a dumbass.

But Noah wasn’t there.

Fine. People take time off. Maybe he swapped shifts for the day. Maybe he just didn’t want to see Liam.

That’s fine.

Totally fine.

It’s happened before.

Except last time there’d been a reason. Right? This time, he hadn’t even done anything.

He hadn’t asked to know about George. He didn’t go digging. It just happened. Fell on his lap.

And yeah, maybe he should’ve told him he knew. But come on. Did they really need a round two of this bullshit? This wasn’t that deep.

The leg press machine was too easy. He added weight. Still easy. He added more. His knees shook.

He felt like a balloon with too much air inside, he turned the volume up louder.

“Hey, stranger.”

Liam looked up. Dylan stood there, bottle in hand, hair wet from his workout, shirt clinging in ways that felt… intentional.

“Didn’t see you yesterday,” Dylan added casually.

Liam shrugged. “Busy.”

Dylan smiled. “Missed your angry grunts by the squat rack.”

It was friendly. Chill. Even playful. Liam gave a polite smile and looked down, like he hadn’t noticed. He just didn’t feel like talking. That was all.

Dylan noticed. That soft, unreadable twitch of his brow. “Hey. I was kidding.”

“I know,” Liam said, maybe too quickly. “I just, rough morning.”

Dylan nodded slowly. Like he could tell it wasn’t just a rough morning.

“Alright,” Dylan said. “Well. You know where to find me if you wanna vent about life or just rage at the punching bag.”

And then he walked off. Just like that. No lingering. No nudging. No teasing smirk over his shoulder.

Liam stared after him.

He didn’t sit around long. Just finished his sets, showered quick, and got out, too aware of the empty space behind reception on his way out.

The office was better. Colder. A neutral scent. Paper, coffee, monitor glare.

Liam exhaled through his nose. He liked this part of the day. Work gave him shape. Structure. Something his thoughts couldn’t claw into. He could answer emails. Adjust layouts. Track progress. Even if the rest of him felt fuzzy and slow, this, this made sense.

He sat at his desk and opened the latest report. The numbers blinked back at him. He adjusted his chair and clicked around like he had energy.

His fingers hovered above the keyboard, but his eyes drifted. Past the spreadsheet. Past the task bar.

The door clicked.

Glass shifted in its frame.

Connor. Walking past the office. Fast. Too fast.

They didn’t lock eyes. Not even for a second.

And still, Liam’s shoulders tightened before they dropped.

Liam sat back slightly in his chair.

He hadn’t realized he was bracing. Still.

The relief that followed was instant.

Good. Connor was still behaving.

The screen dimmed a little. He reached forward, jiggled the mouse, pulled the project back into view.

Work.

Just work.

---

It had been a week.

Same gym. Same shift. Same faces.

Dylan was always around, hovering just enough to be noticeable. He smiled when he passed, sometimes waved, sometimes dropped a dumb joke about triceps that made Liam exhale through his nose and shake his head.

Once, he nudged Liam’s arm during rest and said, “Damn, you trying to get me lightheaded? Can’t spot you with arms like that.”

Liam had just rolled his eyes. But he’d smiled.

It was low-key. Polite. Mindful. Flirtation with a safety net. And Liam appreciated it more than he’d admit. Not the flirting, the company. It made him feel less alone.

He kept his head down, showed up to work on time, even brought his own snacks instead of buying the overpriced stuff from the vending machine. Everything stayed... steady. Enough.

But by Friday, the cracks were showing.

Noah still hadn’t come back.

Liam still hadn’t asked. Hadn’t texted.

He kept checking the front desk a little too fast each morning. Just enough to make him hope that someone would mention Noah casually, like, “Oh yeah, he swapped shifts,” or “He’s sick,” or anything that made it not weird that he was still gone. Just so he could explain himself.

No one said anything though.

Liam just kept showing up.

And the spreadsheets kept staring back at him.

The shitty LED panels made everything look grey, Liam sat at his usual desk in the back, trying to drown out the anxious hum behind his eyes with work.

And then Connor walked in.

Liam glanced up instinctively, and regretted it immediately.

Connor smiled tentatively the second their eyes met.

“Umm… hey…” Connor said, voice carrying a little too loud across the room. He looked ashamed.

Liam ignored him.

“Random question, but, did Noah unfollow you?” his voice was gentle. Tentative. “I thought maybe… y’know, if you were okay.

Liam blinked.

What?

“…What?”

Connor’s eyes dropped to the pen he’d been flipping, slowing now, like even that motion felt too loud.

“Shit. You didn’t know…”

He tried to laugh, but it broke halfway out.

“Sorry. Yeah. Insta…”

He wasn’t grinning like it was funny. More like he didn’t know what else to do with his face.

Liam froze. Didn’t answer.

Because he didn’t know.

Because he hadn’t checked.

Because that was never even a possibility.

Connor watched him quietly. Tilted his head, concern softening the edge in his voice.

“So… Did you have a fight?”

Liam didn’t say anything. He was still in shock.

And for a second, Connor looked like he might say more. Might try to ask. But then he stopped himself.

His shoulders dropped just slightly, like something settled.

“Right. Okay,” he said gently. “Didn’t mean to pile on.”

He tucked the pen into his pocket, a small frown lingering as he stepped back, like he wanted to fix it, but knew he couldn’t.

He gave Liam space instead.

Liam wanted to grab his phone. Wanted to check right then. Noah couldn’t be that petty. But Connor might still be watching, and Liam didn’t trust that his crazy was fully out of the system.

So he stayed still.

Staring at the same line of numbers on his monitor until they stopped meaning anything at all.

At home, Liam sat on the edge of his bed and opened Instagram.

His hands felt wrong.

He typed in Noah’s name anyway.

Clicked. Scrolled. Checked his own followers list. Then checked again.

Noah wasn’t there.

Not even in following.

He hadn’t just unfollowed,

He’d removed him!

He stared at the screen like it would undo itself.

“What the fuck, man,” he whispered.

Not even in anger at first. Disbelief. Sadness, maybe.

He hadn’t done anything wrong for fucks’s sake! He hadn’t meant to overhear it. Shit, he wished he hadn’t.

But now he did. And apparently, that was enough for Noah to cut him out like dead weight?

Seriously?

Immature. That’s what this shit was. Liam sat back against the wall, arms crossed, the light from his phone still glowing in his lap. It was stupid. It was childish. Cutting someone out without even talking to them first.

His jaw was tight. His heart too. He was angry now.

A fucking unfollow? What are they? Fifteen?

Liam scoffed under his breath. This was so Noah. Anything but a fucking conversation.

Cool.

Liam should’ve been pissed days ago.

He should’ve texted. Called. Shown up and demanded to be heard. But no, he gave him time. Like a fucking idiot.

You know what? Fuck this. Liam didn’t need this half-assed friendship.

And on top of everything there was Connor! What? Now he felt free to do whatever the fuck he wanted again?

Great.

Just what Liam needed.

Jesus Christ.

He raked a hand through his hair, trying not to let it get under his skin. But it was already under. Pressed in. Tight.

He kicked his shoes off, sank into bed, and stared at the ceiling. Maybe if he got off, he’d relax, get out of his head. He slipped a hand under the waistband of his sweatpants, slow, unsure. But even as he touched himself, it felt wrong. Off. Like his body didn’t want it. Like he didn’t want it. Not really.

He let out a low, frustrated breath, pulled his hand away, and turned to face the wall.

---

The weekend was shit and it was Monday again.

Liam sat down at his desk, the one tucked furthest into the corner like some afterthought, and pulled his hoodie over his head. He opened the same document he’d closed Friday, stared at the blinking cursor, and reminded himself he didn’t care anymore. Not about Noah. Not about what he said or didn’t say. Not about the fucking Instagram thing. Not about being cut off like garbage someone forgot to take out.

He was past it.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard, eyes scanning cells that blurred together, when he felt it, that tingle in his spine.

 Connor.

He didn’t have to look.

“Hii. Morning, Liam,” Connor said, sliding into the desk across from him like this was just any other day. His voice wavered, like he was forcing casual.

Liam didn’t answer again.

Connor leaned forward, elbows braced, eyes flicking down to the desk instead of at Liam. “Liam…”

Liam exhaled slowly through his nose. “Busy.”

“Please,” Connor said, rubbing the back of his neck. His voice was rough around the edges, like he hadn't spoken in hours.

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a coward, but… I fucked up. Bad.”

He took a breath. Shaky.

“What I did, it was wrong. I know that. I… wasn’t thinking.

He glanced up. “I mean that. I promise.”

Liam didn’t say anything. Just raised his eyebrows, arms crossed.

Connor’s words stumbled out faster, clumsier.

“I’m not a bad guy, I swear. I just,  I got caught up. The whole uner the sheets thing… it messed with my head.”

He stopped, winced.

“That’s not an excuse. I’m just saying… I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I know I did, but I wasn’t trying to.”

Liam finally looked at him. Really looked at him.

This was the guy who used to hand Liam extra fries at lunch just to see him smile. The guy who stuck around after lunch to help him pick up his shit, who covered for him.

Where was that Connor? How did he get replaced by that twitchy, shadow version?

But Connor wasn’t defensive. Or dodging or brushing it off.

He just looked small.

Embarrassed.

Wrecked by his own guilt.

Liam sighed.

He wanted to be angry, to keep the wall up. But the whole thing just felt… sad. Like watching someone break their own bones on accident.

“What the hell happened to you?” He asked quietly.

There was no accusation in it, just… disappointment. And maybe, underneath, a little grief.

“You’re not like this.”

Connor swallowed hard.

“I don’t know.”

A beat passed.

Then, softer:

“I got punished for it, though.”

Liam said nothing.

Connor glanced up, cheeks burning. “You were there.”

And yeah, Liam had been.

He remembered. The way Connor’s voice had cracked. The way he couldn’t stand up after.

Connor looked down, staring at his hands like they were dirty.

“When it started… it hurt. Like, really hurt. I wanted to tell him to stop. I thought I would.”

He swallowed.

“But then, I don’t know. Something happened. Stuff got weird inside… my body stopped fighting it.”

His voice went lower. Quieter. Like he was trying not to hear himself say it.

“It was like everything I was feeling got scrambled. I couldn’t tell if I hated it or—”

He blinked, lost in it. “Once he started moving, it was like… like something broke open in me. Like my whole body… needed it.”

He exhaled sharply, bitter.

“I kept asking for… more. Saying shit I didn’t even believe. Saying I liked it. That it felt good. And it did, somehow. That’s the worst part.”

His voice caught. “It felt like I couldn’t breathe unless he kept going.”

A humorless laugh slipped out.

“I hate thinking about it now. Makes me feel sick. But at the time? It was like my whole brain melted. Like there was nothing else but him and what he was doing to me.”

Liam felt something cold slide down his spine. Yeah. He didn’t know what Noah did to himself either.

Connor looked down, voice catching like it embarrassed him to even say it out loud.

“And you were watching.”

His voice dropped.

His gaze flicked up, raw, desperate.

“Doesn’t that count for something?”

Liam hesitated.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then finally:

“I don’t know,” he said quietly. “I need to think about it.”

He turned before Connor could reply, the chair scraping behind him.

And walked out.

He’d get through the day. Then he’d hit the gym. He was going to train, stay strong, and pretend like none of it mattered.

Because it didn’t.

That was the new plan. And he was sticking to it.

So work passed in a blur. Liam barely remembered what he did, but no one yelled, not even the new boss, and his inbox was clean, so whatever. It was a win.

Connor hadn’t come near him again

See?

Liam didn’t need backup. Didn’t need anyone stepping in. He could handle his own shit.

And he had.

That thought settled like armor as he grabbed his bag and headed out. He was fine. He was strong. And he was done being a fucking pushover.

The soft beep barely registered.

He stepped in the gym, eyes set on the floor ahead, every nerve steeled.

But then he saw him.

Noah.

He was leaning on the counter, scrolling something on the desk monitor, shoulders relaxed, backwards cap, hoodie pushed halfway up his arms.

Liam barely let his eyes linger. Just long enough to confirm it, like checking for a scar. Yup. Still there.

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t wave, didn’t speak, didn’t look again. He ignored the pull in his chest and walked right past like he’d trained for it. Head up. Back straight. Like he didn’t care.

But fuck, he did.

He hated that he cared.

Inside, he was still pissed. Righteous about it even. He hadn’t done shit. He was the one being punished for overhearing something he didn’t ask to hear. He was the one who got told to stay away, and listened.

Whatever.

He dropped his gym bag near the machines with a practiced thud, headphones in, no music playing yet, and pulled off his hoodie in one motion. He forced a smile, mostly for himself, and squared his shoulders like it was game day.

You're fine.

“Liaam,” Dylan’s voice popped into the silence beside him like it’d been summoned by rage.

Liam startled slightly, then smoothed his face before turning. “Hey.”

“You’re looking... weirdly cheerful.” Dylan grinned, clearly sweaty already, towel draped around his neck.

Liam snorted. “Something like that.”

“What happened?” Dylan’s eyes scanned him for a second too long.

“Nothing!” Liam gave a dry smile. “I always look like this.”

That got a laugh. Dylan fell into stride next to him as they headed to the benches.

“Legs again?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Damn. What did your legs do to you?”

Liam huffed. “They’re attached to me.”

Dylan laughed harder at that, slapping Liam’s shoulder. “Bro, mood.”

They settled into a rhythm, machines, reps, light banter, and for a while, it actually worked. Liam laughed. Genuinely. He didn’t fake it. Dylan was getting easy to be around. He didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t stare too long. And Liam was quietly grateful that Dylan’s flirting had mellowed into something mostly platonic, just teasing, not serious.

But every now and then, like a tide that couldn’t help but return, Liam’s eyes flicked back toward the front desk.

Noah hadn’t moved much. Still there. Still not looking his way.

He wasn’t laughing with anyone. He wasn’t goofing off with the kids from the earlier class. He wasn’t loud or smug or performatively ignoring Liam like he’d done after the cabin fight.

He was just… there.

Working.

It was that stillness that bothered Liam most.

This clean-cut detachment?

It felt… heavy.

Liam loaded more weight than he should. Legs trembling. Chest tight.

He pushed through the set anyway, stubborn, breath held, muscles screaming. By the last rep, his vision fuzzed out at the edges.

As the bar clanked back into place, he swayed.

Dylan noticed.

“Dude. You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Liam said too fast.

“Uh-huh,” Dylan said, unconvinced. “Want to take five?”

“I’m good,” Liam said, standing up. “Seriously.”

Liam gave him a nod of appreciation. Then grabbed water. Sat.

And as he looked up.

Noah was watching him.

Like he’d been staring without realizing it. Like Liam wasn’t what he was really looking at.

Just for a second.

Then he looked away.

Liam exhaled, slow.

Turned the music up.

---

The breakroom wasn’t even a room. Just a chipped table by the water cooler and two chairs that nobody sat in unless they had to. Liam usually didn’t. But today his legs felt like bricks, so he did.

His container clicked open. Chicken and rice. Again.

Connor showed up two minutes later, carrying a sandwich. “Hey...”

Liam didn’t look up.

Connor sat anyway, unwrapped the sandwich, and chewed a bite before glancing up. “So, uh… you okay?”

Liam blinked once. “Huh?”

“I said, are you okay?” Connor repeated, quieter this time. “You just look… tired. Like, not just tired-tired.”

“I’m fine.”

Connor nodded quickly, looking down at his food. “Yeah. Sure. Fine...”

Liam poked at his chicken.

“I thought about it.”

Connor looked up, cautious.

“I think I can forgive you,” Liam said, voice even. “If you do the budget for the next six months.”

Connor blinked. “Jesus, six months?”

Liam nodded, still chewing. “Yep. And my client reimbursements"

Connor stared for a second, then huffed out a breath and smiled, like he couldn't believe it.

“Alright. Six months.”

Liam looked up at him, finally meeting his gaze. “Good.”

“Also…” Connor shifted in his chair, restless. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but… if you two had a fight, doesn’t mean it’s over or anything.”

Liam set his fork down. “Why are you saying this?”

Connor’s eyes dropped to his sandwich. “I dunno. You looked like you needed someone to say it.”

Liam laughed once. “Yeah. You’re a real beacon of emotional clarity.”

Connor scratched the back of his neck. “I’m serious. Like… if you want, I could talk to him? To Noah. Just, I dunno, tell him to stop being a dick or something.”

Liam blinked. “You’d talk to Noah.”

“I mean… I’d try,” Connor muttered, suddenly looking very interested in his plate. “Assuming he doesn’t rip my spine out through my throat.”

Liam almost smiled. Almost.

He exhaled, slow and quiet. “No. That’s okay.”

A pause.

“Fuck Noah.”

“Fair.” He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Can I, ask you something?”

Liam nodded.

His voice gentle. “Did you… even a little… like what happened? Not saying it wasn’t messed up. Just, it kinda looked like maybe part of you didn’t hate it.”

Liam’s heart jumped.

Connor saw it immediately and held up both hands, backpedaling. “Sorry. That was dumb. Forget it. Sorry.”

Liam shoved another bite of sandwich in his mouth like he could bury himself in bread.

But his brain was already betraying him.

The memory didn’t come as images. It came as sensation. Pressure. Thickness. That stretch, slow, unavoidable. The way his body had gone tense and loose at the same time. It did feel good.

Too good.

He swallowed, jaw tightening.

Jesus.

His cock was already hard. Not half. Not maybe. Fully, embarrassingly hard, pressing against his jeans like it had been waiting for permission. Like it remembered too.

Connor was saying something.

“…Liam?”

He hadn’t heard a word.

Liam stood so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “Bathroom,” he muttered, already moving. One hand tugged at the hem of his hoodie, trying to pull it lower.

Connor blinked. “Uh, okay.”

The bathroom was empty. Fluorescent lights buzzing. Too bright. Too quiet.

He locked himself into a stall, stood there for a second, breathing hard, hand braced against the metal wall. He unzipped, tried to piss.

Nothing.

Of course.

His cock twitched instead, drooling and angry in his hand.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

It had been weeks. Weeks of stress, of sleeping like shit, of everything piling up. Of not letting himself think about, everything. Not cumming.

He leaned back against the stall door, dragged his hand down his dick once.

That was all it took.

His hips jerked forward, breath catching. He closed his eyes, bit down on his lip, and let himself go. Just a quick one. Just so he could focus again. He finally felt like he wanted it.

His strokes sped up, quiet but frantic, chasing relief, chasing silence.

“Just get it out,” he muttered. “Just, fuck—”

And the door creaked open.

He froze.

Fuck me.

It was Connor wasn’t it?

Footsteps.

Liam leaned back against the stall wall, panting quietly, hand still wrapped around himself. Tense. Everything was burning up inside him. He was so close, just needed a bit more,

"Liam?" Connor’s voice echoed across the tiled room. Closer. "Do you need help? You feeling sick?"

Damn it!

Liam hurried to shove himself back into his underwear, zipper half-stuck as he yanked his jeans up with shaking hands. He opened the stall door fast, heart slamming in his chest.

"I’m fine," he said, a little too quickly. "Just needed a minute."

But Connor wasn’t looking at his face.

His gaze dropped low. And Liam followed it.

Liam’s pants were strained, the bulge so obvious now that Connor noticed.

"Uh…you were jerking off in there?!"

Liam’s face burned.

“I, no,” he said, too fast. Too loud.

Connor didn’t answer right away.

He just smiled.

Almost shy, like he’d been handed a gift he hadn’t expected. His eyes flicked once more to the bulge straining Liam’s jeans, then back up to his face.

“It’s okay…,” he said softly.

And then, casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned, stepped into the stall across from Liam, door open.

“What are you—” he started.

But Connor didn’t answer.

His fingers moved to his belt. A clink. A pull. The metal teeth of a zipper rasping down.

Liam watched, stunned, as Connor leaned back against the stall wall, shoved his pants halfway down, and wrapped a hand around his already half-hard cock. Pink.Thick as fuck.

He didn’t say anything.

He just started stroking.

His eyes flicked up, met Liam’s, searching. Gauging.

“I swear I’m not trying to push you or anything,” Connor said quickly, cheeks flushed. “If you wanna leave, that’s okay. I just… I feel hot too.”

His feet didn’t move. Couldn’t. His eyes dropped before he could stop them, zeroing in on the movement of Connor’s hand, the way his thumb swept over the giant head and smeared precum down the shaft.

“Connor,” Liam rasped. “What the fuck.”

Connor smiled, light and breathy.

He glanced down at himself, gave a slightly faster stroke. “You started it!”

He shifted his hips forward slightly, letting the light catch him in all the worst and best ways. Liam could see everything, his flushed cock, he could see it throb, the way his abs tensed, his damp inner thighs, all of it open and there.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Connor said quickly. “I mean it. You can just… watch. If that helps.”

Liam yanked his hand back like he’d touched a burner. “Someone could walk in.”

Connor didn’t even slow down. “Nooo, it’s fine.”

“What do you mean no—”

“I put the ‘out of order’ sign on the door,” Connor said, earnest. “Thought you were throwing up. Wanted to give you space.”

Liam blinked at him, brain short-circuiting.

“Do you wanna touch it?” Connor said, hopeful. “You don’t have to, though!

Liam didn’t move. His throat was dry, and his cock, hard. Way too hard. What the fuck was happening? This wasn’t real arousal. Couldn’t be. Not from Connor. It had to be stress. Confusion. Leftover adrenaline. But his body wasn’t listening. It just reacted.

Liam turned his head. “No! Shut up.”

“Like… just a little?”

There was a beat.

Then something broke.

Liam shoved the stall door and grabbed Connor by the collar, forcing him back with a thud, his own breath wild in his chest.

“Fuck you,” he hissed.

Then:

“Don’t fucking talk.”

Connor didn’t.

Liam dropped to his knees like it wasn’t even a choice. Like anger did it for him.

His hands were shaking. His mind was racing. This was a mistake. This was fucked. At work? He knew it, he knew it. But his mouth was already parting, and Connor’s cock was right there, thick and wet and throbbing like it had been waiting for him.

Liam hated the way his lips trembled when they got close. Hated the way his breath caught when he felt the heat of it against his face. Hated the way his own cock pulsed, aching in his pants, betraying him.

Connor’s cock was already glistening, already dripping, the air thick with the sharp, musky stink of it. Humid. It hit Liam in the face like a wall, and for a second, he froze.

God. The smell matched the cock, Liam thought. It was strong. Intense. Warm.

Different than Noah’s though.

He exhaled through his nose, tried to swallow the shame, tried, but it choked him.

Then he opened his mouth again.

The first taste was salt. Pungent. Liam grimaced, but he didn’t stop. His lips wrapped around the head, and Connor let out this low, fucking breath, barely a moan.

“Yes!” Connor murmured. “Oh, shit!”

Liam’s eyes snapped up, fury sharp beneath the haze.

He didn’t like that.

He hated that.

He pulled off with a wet pop, strings of spit clinging from his lips to Connor’s cockhead.

“I said don’t talk,” Liam growled, voice low and frayed, like it had been scraped raw.

Connor blinked, surprised, but nodded fast, breath catching. “Okay.”

Liam didn’t wait for more.

He shoved him back against the stall and dove down again, rougher this time, like punishment. Like silence was the fucking price for being this disgusting.

Connor grunted but stayed quiet.

He gagged.

Spit dribbled out the corner of his mouth, dripping down his chin. Connor’s cock stretched his lips wide, thick and heavy, the vein running underneath pulsing like it was alive. Deeper each time. How the fuck did someone that skinny have this much cock? Liam’s throat spasmed around it, raw and tight, and the taste, fuck, the taste was everywhere. Funky and slick and coated in pre, thick enough that it clung behind his teeth.

He pulled back, coughing once, strings of spit hanging from his mouth to the tip. His jaw ached. His eyes burned.

But his cock was leaking in his pants, and his thighs were tensed.

His hands dug into Connor’s hips. His nails might’ve left marks. He didn’t care.

He sucked harder. Deeper. Violent. Like he could punish Connor with it. Like he could erase the humiliation by owning it.

But Connor just moaned low again. “Ohhhhhhhhh, Fuckkkkkk.”

Liam groaned around him. Hating how true it felt. He was getting off on sucking Connor. Shit. Even forcing his dick deep felt good.

Every motion now was sloppy. Filthy. His chin was wet. His throat was raw. His knees hurt from the floor. And Connor was twitching, getting closer, breathing heavier, fucking loving it.

“Dude, wait, wait, wait! Can we go slow?” Connor gasped, grabbing a fistful of Liam’s hair and tugging back, his cock slipping wetly out of Liam’s mouth with a messy strand of spit still clinging between them. “Please, nghhhhhhh, slow down!”

Liam blinked, panting. His mouth was red, chin soaked, lips puffed and shining. He stared up, eyes glassy and pissed.

“What the fuck,” he snapped. “Don’t you wanna cum?”

Connor groaned, half-laughing through it, hand still in Liam’s hair. “Yeah, obviously, just not in thirty seconds!”

“You said you wanted this.”

“I do!”

“Then shut the fuck up and let me do it!”

Connor’s hips twitched forward instinctively. He looked down at Liam, chest heaving, his own dick flushed and deep-pink, still throbbing, drooling pre onto Liam’s cheek like it missed his mouth already.

“…Okay,” Connor said, eyes low. “Okay, but, slow. Let me watch. Let me… feel it.”

Liam rolled his eyes, but something about that made his stomach flip. He gave a mocking little nod, wiping his chin with the back of his hand like a boxer before the final round.

 “Just don’t fucking talk.” he muttered.

Then he wrapped one hand around the base, steady, tight. And he looked up as he sank back down, slow this time, torturously slow, letting Connor feel every inch of it, all heat and spit and tight, angry suction.

Connor’s breath hitched. His hands dropped to the sides of the stall, gripping like he was bracing for impact.

And then, voice rough, low, like it broke right out of his chest, he said it:

“…Thanks.”

Liam paused.

Ugh.

He glanced up, still stroking the base slowly, his lips shiny, brow furrowed in confused disbelief.

Connor was flushed and breathless, eyes heavy-lidded, jaw slack like he didn’t even mean to say it out loud.

He panted. “Fuck. It feels so good like, ohhhhhhhhhhhh,  like that. This is so amazing—”

Liam stared at him for a second like he wanted to punch him. Or laugh at him. Or maybe both.

Then he shoved his mouth back down, harder, meaner, like he was erasing that moment.

Connor groaned, loud this time, fingers curling against the stall walls.

And Liam? Liam took his time now. Drew it out. Flattened his tongue under his cock, teased the underside of the head with tiny flicks, let his lips drag up the tip until Connor was shaking.

It was almost a power play now.

Connor was quiet now, shockingly quiet, his chest rising and falling in uneven little gulps. Every so often, he let out these tiny gasps, like the pleasure kept sneaking up on him. Like he couldn’t believe it felt that good.

Liam didn’t stop.

The way Connor looked down at him, not smug, not arrogant, but wide-eyed and almost soft.

Like Liam was doing him a favor.

Like this was intimate.

“Jesus,” Connor whispered, “you’re really fucking good at this.”

Liam groaned around him. Not from arousal, pure annoyance.

He pulled off for a second, spit clinging to his lips again. “Dude, can you not?”

Connor blinked, confused. “What?”

Liam raised a brow.

Connor laughed nervously. “I mean, I’ve only gotten head once before, but like, it wasn’t like this. You’re just, fuck. I feel like I should be paying you or something.”

Liam rolled his eyes and went back down, mumbling, “Again, just shut the fuck up, man.”

But Connor was buzzing now. Happy. Like his whole body was lighting up from the inside, and every stroke of Liam’s mouth made him melt a little more.

Liam hated how warm he sounded. How earnest.

And then,

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck—” Connor gasped, hand clamping against the stall wall again. “I’m close. Fuck. Liam, please, can you… will you swallow?”

Liam stilled.

Connor looked down at him, eyes pleading, hair falling over his forehead, face flushed and honest and so not the villain he was that day.

“Please,” he said again, softer. “I just… I want it. Nobody ever did.”

Liam blinked once.

Then he grabbed the base of Connor’s cock, locked eyes with him, and shoved it deep again. Gagged on it.

And Connor whimpered.

His breath hitched, one sharp inhale, and then he groaned, loud, guttural, head tipping back against the stall wall.

“Fuuuuuck, I’m, ok, I’m gonna—”

Liam didn’t pull off.

Didn’t flinch.

“I’m cumming I’m, I’m cumm—”

He just held him there. Mouth stretched, throat tight, tongue dragging under the shaft like he wanted to swallow the soul out of him. Let’s fucking get this over with.

And he felt Connor cum.

Hard.

It hit the back of Liam’s throat like a shot, hot, thick, a lot. He could feel the jizz oozing inside of him.

More than he expected.

Way more.

Liam felt Connor’s cock pulsate hard with each shot, barely managing to keep it down. The first, then came the second. Then a third. Each one thick as fucking glue, spilling fast, flooding his mouth until it felt like he was trying to swallow fucking paint.

Connor grunted through it, fingers curling tight on the stall walls, legs trembling.

“Shit, dude, fuck, that’s… that’s a lot, huh?”

Liam glared up at him with watery eyes, cheeks puffed slightly, clearly struggling.

Connor laughed with his eyes closed, apologetically, even—”Sorry, man, I always nut big. Thick too. Ohhhhhhhh, feels so good.”

Liam pulled off finally with a desperate gasp, coughing once, a line of cum sticking to his lip, trailing down his chin. He wiped it with the back of his hand, furious.

“But… damn. You took it,” Connor said, breathless, still catching his wind. “You really fucking took it. That was… Jesus. That was awesome.”

Liam’s jaw was tight. Then, without thinking, his tongue swiped the corner of his lip, catching a stray drop.

He froze.

He tasted it.

And immediately wanted to rip his own tongue out.

“Yeah,” he muttered darkly, scrubbing his mouth with the back of his wrist, “just fuck off now, okay?”

Connor blinked, but didn’t seem offended. If anything, he looked... delighted.

“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still smiling like a guy who just won a raffle. “I’ll, uh… see you out there?”

Liam didn’t answer.

Connor lingered one second too long, then gave a small, awkward thumbs up—”Thanks again, dude. For real.”, and ducked out the door, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

The door clicked shut.

Silence.

Liam sat down hard on the toilet seat, elbows on his knees, hands rubbing over his face like he could delete what just happened from his memory.

His mouth was still sticky. His throat still raw. Dick still hard.

And now there was this weird weight in his chest, because yeah, he still wanted to cum. Bad. Even more now. But the taste in his mouth was still Connor.

And that was enough.

Enough to make him reconsider. Enough to make his hand freeze halfway down.

He let out a breath, half-disgusted, and yanked his pants back up.

He pulled the door closed with shaking fingers, locked it, and leaned back against it like the air itself was too heavy to stand in.

It wasn’t about Connor. It wasn’t about him.

He was just pent up. That was it.

He hadn’t cum in ages. His brain was fried. His body was touch-starved, stressed out, desperate for anything to take the edge off.

That’s all it was.

 ---

Noah had been back a few days

Liam wasn’t watching him, he wasn’t, but he noticed.

Noah looked different. Same face, same body, but the energy was still wrong. Muted. Tight. He wasn’t joking with the front desk guy. Wasn’t roasting clients. Wasn’t flashing that cocky half-smile he used to wear like armor.

He was distant with everyone.

But then Ashley showed up.

And Noah changed.

His shoulders loosened. His voice rose, casual, even light. Noah’s hand was on her back. Casual. Easy. She nudged his side, and he smiled, actually smiled, like it came organically.

Liam’s eyes fixed on the mirror.

He’d never seen them like that.

He didn’t think he had at least.

Then he caught himself.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. Noah could do whatever he wanted.

He just didn’t get it though.

He sat on the bench, gripping the edge with both hands, jaw clenched. His reflection in the mirror looked angrier than he expected.

He wasn’t affected.

He was fine.

He had every right to feel like this.

Liam was still gripping the bench, when Dylan appeared at his side.

“Damn,” Dylan said, grinning. “You started without me?”

Liam forced a smirk. “What, you want me to sit here twiddling my thumbs waiting for your ass?”

Dylan chuckled, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” He dropped his bag, started setting up on the machine next to him. Easy, relaxed, like he always was.

They worked in silence at first. The rhythm helped, counting reps, moving weight, sweat pooling at Liam’s collar. But his eyes kept drifting. Over Dylan’s shoulder. Across the floor.

To them.

Ashley laughing, leaning close. Noah saying something quiet, his fingers brushing her arm.

Dylan followed Liam’s line of sight, brow quirking. “They’re close now, huh?”

 “Yeah, what the fuck is up with that?” Liam blinked, scoffed. “...not that I care or anything, it’s just… weird, you know?”

A beat.

“Yeah… “ Dylan kept his voice low.

He paused.

“Hey… uhh, did you and Shorty have a falling out?”

Liam stiffened.

“I asked him why he hadn’t been hanging with you.” Dylan adjusted the weights casually, like he wasn’t poking at something sharp. “He told me to fuck off.”

Liam scoffed mid-rep, shaking his head. “Yeah. Sounds right. He’s a child.”

Dylan leaned against the machine, voice casual. “Thought maybe something was up. I haven’t seen him much lately either, since I got my own place around here, we haven’t really talked.”

Liam looked over, surprised. “Wait, you got a place here?”

“Yeah.” Dylan grinned, stretching his arms over his head. “Got a job at Ground Zero Strategies.”

Liam blinked. “Seriously? Ground Zero? That’s huge.”

“Right?! Figured you’d know it, since you’re in consulting too. And wasn’t planned or anything, I came here for a workshop but hey, now I’m staying. At least for the time being.”

Liam shook his head, smiling despite himself. “Congrats, man. That’s… actually impressive.”

Dylan shrugged, proud but playing it cool. “Guess I’m a corporate bigshot now.”

Liam let out a quiet laugh, but it didn’t stick.

His eyes wandered, again.

Back across the gym.

Ashley still hadn’t left. She was brushing something off Noah’s shirt now..

And they looked… good together.

God, they looked good together.

Cut, pretty, golden. A matching set.

Of course they made sense.

Of course they did.

Liam’s face tightened. He sat back against the machine, adjusted the handles like he wasn’t staring.

He gripped the bars.

Pulled.

And then,

A jolt of pain. Sharp. Sudden.

“Shit—” Liam winced, teeth gritted.

“Hey, hey—” Dylan was already at his side, hand on his arm, steadying him.

Liam kept his eyes down, heat crawling his neck. Angry. Not at Dylan. Not at the pain.

Fuck.

Dylan squeezed gently, voice softer now. “You alright? Need a breather?”

Liam didn’t answer. His throat was too tight. So instead, he forced himself back into position on the machine. He tried one rep, slow, shaky, his back screaming.

“Oww,” he hissed, jerking upright. He knew it was pointless.

He leaned back, wiping sweat off his brow with the edge of his shirt. “Yeah… I’m done. Gotta rest it.”

Dylan stood, towel around his neck. “I’ll walk with you.”

Liam shook his head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Dylan’s tone was calm, but firm. “You tweaked something, I can see it. Come on. You don’t need to make it worse.”

“I said I’m fine—”

“And I’m saying I’m walking with you,” Dylan cut in. “End of discussion.”

Liam stared at him, jaw tight, ready to argue, but the pain in his back was still biting, and the stubborn heat in Dylan’s eyes wouldn’t budge.

“Okay,” he muttered finally.

Dylan just gave a small nod, easy smile flickering. “Good. Let’s go.”

Liam stood, shouldered his bag. He didn’t look back across the room.

By the time they reached Liam’s place, his back was worse. He was almost grateful Dylan had insisted on coming along.

Dylan slung Liam’s arm over his shoulder and helped him up the stairs, into his room, and finally onto the bed. Liam groaned as he sank into the mattress, pressing a hand into the small of his back.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Definitely worse now that the muscles are cooling down. Fuck.”

“You should ice it later,” Dylan said. He hovered for a second, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, mind if I shower here? I’m already sweaty as hell, and I can keep an eye on you in case it gets bad.”

Liam hesitated, then shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. Bathroom’s down the hall.”

Dylan gave him a grateful nod and disappeared into the hallway. A moment later, Liam heard fabric sliding. When he leaned just enough, he saw it, Dylan curving out of sight, already naked, leaving his gym clothes piled in a small heap on the floor just inside Liam’s room.

Shirt. Shorts. Socks. Underwear.

The sound of running water filled the silence.

Liam stared at it.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

But his body ached in more ways than one. He still hadn’t gotten off, and the whole Connor thing had left him wanting, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He was desperate now, heat pulsing through his crotch. It wasn’t gonna hurt anyone. It’s harmless.

“Damn,” he muttered, easing himself off the bed, wincing as his back protested.

He grabbed the pile of Dylan’s clothes and shuffled back to the mattress, lowering himself carefully. Sitting again, breath uneven, he set them in his lap.

For a long second, he just stared. His hands trembled slightly as he lifted the shirt, brought it tentatively to his face, and inhaled.

His eyes widened.

That scent. Sharp. Musky. Heavy with sweat and hormones. His stomach flipped, because he recognized it. Immediately.

It was Noah!

Or… damn close.

His cock twitched.

“What the fuck,” he whispered, taking another pull.

He groaned, low and guttural, the heat spreading through him, shame already biting at the edges. Genetics. It had to be genetics. Dylan was his cousin, right? That was the only explanation.

He grabbed the underwear. Thin, damp at the front. He pressed it to his nose, shaky, and inhaled again. Stronger. Richer. Even closer to Noah.

His head tipped back, mouth falling open. “Fuuuuck.”

His cock was straining now, hard and angry in his pants once more.

He took another hit, louder this time, moaning softly into the fabric, eyes fluttering shut.

And then,

“Hey man, is it—”

Liam froze.

Dylan stood at the doorway, naked, sweaty hair clinging to his forehead, his lower half hidden behind the wall. He held up one of Liam’s towels, expression caught halfway between intrigued and curious.

“…okay to use this…?” Dylan’s words came out light, but his face betrayed him, a flicker of surprise he couldn’t mask fast enough.

Dylan’s underwear was still pressed against his nose, his eyes wide, his cock straining against his shorts. He lowered it slowly, like peeling off a bandage, but the damage was done. His face burned.

“I—” His voice cracked. He coughed, tried again. “It’s not, it’s nothing—”

Dylan’s gaze lingered, sweat droplets running down his chest. His lips parted like he might say something, but then he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, eyes narrowing, curious rather than cruel.

“…Is everything okay?”

The softness of it made Liam’s stomach knot. He wanted Dylan to laugh, to call him a freak, to do something. Anything but this patient silence.

“I was, fuck, I was just—” Liam dropped the underwear onto the bed like it had burned him. His hands flexed uselessly against his thighs. “Forget it.”

Dylan stepped a bit further into the room, still naked, his lower body hidden by the wall. He hooked the towel tighter around his shoulder. “I mean… I can leave, if you want.”

“No,” Liam said too fast. He clenched his jaw. “Just, shower. Forget what you saw.”

Dylan shifted his weight, eyes still fixed on Liam. The towel slid a little further down his shoulder.

“To be honest…It’ll be hard to shower like this,” he said quietly.

Liam blinked. “Huh?”

And then Dylan stepped fully into the room.

His whole body was bare. Damp. Ripped. And his cock.

Liam’s mouth went dry.

What. The fuck.

Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than Noah’s. A monster, hanging there casual and obscene, and Liam’s brain stuttered. Even his balls were big. What genetics were these?

Noah had been unfair already. But Dylan? Dylan was something else.

And it wasn’t just that. It was the resemblance. The way his shoulders sloped, the line of his jaw, the shade of his hair.

Liam’s stomach flipped. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. It was like staring at Noah again.

He realized he was staring. He swallowed hard, shifting back on the bed, hands curling into the sheets. “I, I—”

Dylan stepped forward slowly, cautious, like he was approaching a wounded animal. He stopped just short of the bed, voice low and even. Monster cock hanging hard but low with each step. Balls too.

“Look, man. I don’t wanna push you into anything. That’s not me.”

His gaze flicked to the underwear still near Liam’s thigh, then back to his face.

“But if that’s your thing?” Dylan’s mouth quirked, not mocking, just honest. “You should know… it’s much worse where it came from.”

Liam’s chest was heaving, heat crawling up his neck. He couldn’t stop staring at Dylan’s cock, at the sheer size of it, the unfairness of the whole fucking family tree. The words slipped out before he could stop them.

“Does, does anyone have a giant cock but me?”

Silence. Then, Dylan laughed. A low, easy laugh that made Liam’s ears burn.

“You talking about Shorty, right?” Dylan said, grinning. “I knew it, I knew it! I saw you guys at the party. That nipple thing? Not very subtle. You liked that, huh?”

Liam looked down.

But Dylan was already moving. He reached down, gripped the hem of Liam’s shirt, and peeled it off in one smooth motion. No question. No hesitation. Just gone.

“Can I?” Dylan asked, voice even, like he already knew the answer.

Liam paused.

“Man… I don’t know…” Liam breathed out, the word leaving him before his brain caught up.

Dylan’s fingers were on him immediately, brushing over his chest, circling a nipple, then pinching lightly. Liam gasped, back arching against the sheets. His whole body lit up, sharp heat firing down his spine. His back pain? Forgotten for a second.

“Yeah,” Dylan murmured, watching him carefully. “I know Shorty’s hung too. We used to mess around when we were younger.”

Liam’s eyes flew open. God, it had been so long since he felt this.

Dylan’s fingers twisted his nipple a little harder, making Liam groan despite himself. His voice stayed calm.

“Mine’s bigger though,” he said, almost conversational. “Think it’s ten inches. Thicker, too. He hates it”

Liam’s hands clenched at the sheets, his head fall.

“Ngggggggghhhhhhhhhh, Hmmmmmmmmm”

Liam’s eyes snapped wide, breath sharp as Dylan rolled both his nipples between two fingers. A jolt shot through his chest straight down to his cock.

Dylan chuckled low, eyes fixed on him. “Wow… you really, really like nipple play thing. That’s hot. I love doing it.”

Liam let out a broken sound. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His chest was tight, his cock rock-hard, and Dylan’s calm voice made it worse.

Then Dylan shifted closer. Slow. His hand never left Liam’s chest, fingers still teasing his nipples, but now the weight of his cock dragged across Liam’s neck, hot and heavy, smearing dampness along his skin.

Liam’s breath caught as Dylan rubbed it higher, along his jaw, the blunt head brushing his cheek. He could smell it now. Fuck it smelled good.

Dylan leaned closer, voice dropping. “Let me ask you one more thing, though… at the party, when you came down from Shorty’s room and stood near the table…” His fingers twisted Liam’s nipple a little intensely, pulling another gasp from him. “Did you have his cum in your mouth?”

Liam’s whole body jolted. His eyes flew open, face burning red.  He tried to look away, but Dylan’s fingers held him, kept him there, steady, relentless.

“'Cause I know him,” Dylan went on, voice calm, weirdly gentle, like this wasn’t a grenade he’d just dropped in Liam’s lap.

Liam swallowed hard, his body trembling under Dylan’s touch. “Y-yeah…” he gasped finally, heat flooding his face.

Dylan’s lips curled, not cruel, just knowing. Like he’d already had the answer before he asked. “Classic,” he said softly. His thumb flicked Liam’s nipple again, dragging a groan out of him. “Could see it on your face. Could smell it in your breath too.”

Liam’s chest rose and fell in quick bursts, the confession still ringing in the air. He wanted to hide, wanted to disappear, but Dylan’s hand stayed, steady, grounding. God this was good. He could feel his own dick leaking a river of pre cum.

Dylan’s cock dragged slow across Liam’s cheek, leaving a damp smear that made his skin prickle. His voice stayed level, almost gentle.

“You like the smell on my clothes,” Dylan said, eyes steady on him. “So why don’t you try the real thing? See if it’s better up close.”

Liam’s breath hitched. His pride screamed, but his body… his body leaned forward before he could stop it.

Dylan didn’t guide him. Didn’t push.

Still, Liam’s nose pressed into the head of Dylan’s absurd cock. The scent hit him instantly, raw, musky, overwhelming. Stronger than the shirt, stronger than the underwear. Again, a lot of Noah in there. Pure testosterone. His own cock throbbed.

He inhaled, deep, helpless, and the heat shot through his skull like a drug.

“Fuuuck,” he moaned against Dylan’s skin, the sound muffled, shame and pleasure tangled tight.

“See?” Dylan’s cock twitched against his cheek, heavy, pulsing, and Dylan’s calm voice hummed above him. “Hits better when it’s straight from me.”

Liam’s hand trembled slightly as he reached up, on instinct, fingers curling around Dylan’s cock. He peeled back the foreskin, slowly, exposing the slick head beneath.

The smell hit him instantly.

Stronger there. Saltier. Sharper. Faintly bitter, like sweat and skin.

His dick throbbed.

Then he leaned in.

Liam’s face burned as he shifted slightly, nose brushing along the thick shaft, catching the sharper scent of sweat and pre fuck smeared there. He moaned again, louder, his hips jerking up against nothing.

The musk flooded Liam’s head, drowning out thought. His nose was buried in Dylan’s pubes, the heat of him pressing against his cheek, the weight making his chest tight.

And before he could think of anything else, his mouth parted, instinct, impulse, and he wrapped his lips around the swollen tip.

Warm. Slick. The taste was instant.

He groaned, low, involuntary, the sound vibrating around Dylan’s swollen cock head.

Dylan exhaled through his nose, still playing with Liam’s pink nipples.

“Damn,” he murmured, voice low, even. “Feels so good, Liam.”

Liam shut his eyes, heat crawling his skin as his tongue traced the slit, gathering more of that taste he swore he hated, yet couldn’t stop from chasing.

The thickness stretched his lips, heavier than Noah, weightier, and yet the resemblance was brutal. His cock twitched in his shorts, desperate, humiliated.

Then Dylan’s voice cut through, calm and gentle.

“Why don’t you take your pants off,” he said. “Slow. Don’t wanna wreck your back worse.” His thumb flicked Liam’s nipple again, soothing the words into his skin. “And while you’ve got me in your mouth? Stroke yourself. I wanna see you feel good too.”

Liam’s eyes snapped open, a muffled sound breaking around Dylan’s tip. His whole body flushed, shame and heat tangling in his chest.

But his hands moved anyway.

Shaky, clumsy, he fumbled with his waistband, easing it down inch by inch so the pull wouldn’t bite his back. His cock sprang free, flushed and leaking already.

“Yeah,” Dylan whispered, watching him. “That’s it. Nice and easy. Don’t push too hard.”

Liam’s fist closed around himself, trembling as he stroked once, twice, while Dylan’s cock filled his mouth, weight stretching his lips, taste flooding his tongue.

His moan was pure instinct, lost in Dylan’s sweaty fleshy cock and his hands own his chest.

“Mm, mmmmmhhhfuckkk—”

And Dylan’s hand stayed gentle on his hair. His voice was steady, almost affectionate.

“Dude! Liam, you’ve got a nice cock.”

Liam froze. The words didn’t compute. His eyes flicked up, wide, confused. What?

Noah would’ve laughed again. Called it names. Small. Mocked him for leaking before being touched. That was what Liam knew. That was what he expected.

But Dylan’s gaze held his, calm, steady, unwavering.

“I mean it,” Dylan said, softer this time. “It’s a good cock. Hot. Like you. Looks fucking perfect in your hand.”

Heat exploded in Liam’s cheeks. His chest stuttered. He wanted to scoff, to deny it, but his fist squeezed around himself involuntarily, and his cock pulsed like it believed Dylan before his brain did.

His chest squeezed, and for a moment, just a moment, he wasn’t humiliated or confused or angry.

Liam worked his mouth over Dylan’s cock, slow at first, then deeper, wetter, his tongue dragging along the underside, gathering every drop of pre and heat he could find. The pre-cum was raw, sharp and thicker than Noah’s, like it had teeth. Dylan had warned him, and he was right. It flooded his tongue, stung the back of his throat. His fist pumped his own cock in a ragged rhythm.

Dylan stroked his hair, voice low, steady, coaxing. “That’s it. Duuuude, you’re amazing. Lips stretched, cheeks hollowed, hot as hell, Liam. Suck it.”

Liam groaned, the sound vibrating down Dylan’s shaft, making Dylan hiss through his teeth.

“Yeah,” Dylan whispered. “Moan on me. Love feeling you like that. You’re unreal, man. Are you enjoying this? Feel good too?”

The words slammed into Liam.. Again, Noah would never ask that.

But Dylan did.

He looked up, lips stretched around Dylan’s cock, spit glistening on his chin, eyes glassy. Their gazes locked.

And slowly, helplessly, Liam nodded.

Dylan’s breath caught. Then he smiled down at him, earnest, warm, real. No mockery. No sharp edges. Just a soft, devastating smile.

“Good,” Dylan murmured, brushing his thumbs on his nipples again. “That’s all I wanted to know.”

A muffled moan broke out of him, loud against Dylan’s cockhead, his hand jerking himself frantically. His thighs tensed, stomach twisting, he was right there.

And then he stopped.

Pulled back just enough, spit trailing from his lips to Dylan’s tip, chest heaving. His fist froze at the base of his cock, the air thick with need and shame.

Dylan’s eyes softened. His hand stayed on Liam’s hair, thumb brushing gently against his temple.

“Why’d you stop?” he asked, quiet, steady.

Liam pulled off, chest heaving, spit stringing from his lips to Dylan’s cock. His hand was still tight around himself, trembling. “I was, fuck, I was about to cum. Sorry.”

Dylan blinked, eyebrows tugging together. “Sorry?” he echoed, like the word didn’t compute.

He reached down, brushing Liam’s damp hair back from his forehead.

His voice stayed calm, but there was a little frown in it now. “Why the hell would you be sorry for that?”

Liam opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Dylan’s thumb grazed his temple, grounding. “You think I’d be pissed? That you liked it too much?”

Then softer, more certain: “I want you to like it, Liam. That’s kind of the point.”

“Do it. Cum, man. Isn’t that kind of the point?”

Liam blinked up at him, flustered. “But… you didn’t yet.”

Dylan chuckled low, shaking his head. “I’ll survive. This is fun regardless. Besides—” he gave Liam’s shoulder a light squeeze, “, you hurt your back. Wouldn’t want you moving too much for me.”

The unexpected gentleness broke something in Liam. His fist started working on him again, faster, slick, his cock pulsing hard against his palm. Every nerve screamed, strung tight as wire.

Dylan’s cock was still in his mouth, massive, heavy on his tongue. The sheer weight of it stretched his jaw, the thick head leaking into him with every pulse, salty slickness smearing across his taste buds. The smell was everywhere ,  musky, raw, pure male heat filling his nose, drowning him.

He groaned around it, the sound buzzing through Dylan’s shaft, and Dylan’s fingers twisted his nipple again, sending another hot jolt straight to his cock.

Liam looked up, lips stretched, mouth full, and saw him.

Dylan. Towering over him.

This tall, jacked man, broad and flushed and looking down at him like he owned the moment. Like Liam was exactly where he was supposed to be.

“Yeah,” Dylan murmured above him, voice steady, grounding. “Just like that. Enjoying my sweaty cock, right?”

Liam’s chest heaved. His hips jerked up helplessly into his fist, pre smearing across his abs. The combined sensations ,  the musk clogging his head, the taste coating his tongue, his own hand pumping frantically ,  it was too much.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?”

He was.

Shit.

He was so close.

About to feel good. About to finally cum.

Oh my god.

His throat spasmed around Dylan’s cock as the first pulse hit. He ripped off with a gasp, and his own orgasm slammed through him.

“NghhHHHHHHHHh, Mmhhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Fuuuck—” he said muffled, doubling forward, as hot ropes of cum shot over his fist and stomach, streaking his chest. Each spasm wrung another cry from him, raw and desperate. His whole body trembled, thighs jerking, chest tight, hand still milking his cock until he was dizzy.

Dylan’s dick was still in his mouth, throbbing. The taste lingered at the back of his throat, addicting.

And he just stayed there, cock still hard, slick with spit, hanging heavy in the air between them, smiling down at him with steady calm.

“Heh,” Dylan murmured. “Did that feel good?”

Liam’s chest was still heaving, his skin flushed and sticky. He swallowed hard, throat raw, but the answer came out before he could stop it. “Yeah… it did.”

His body sagged back against the pillows, boneless, drained. Dylan moved with quiet efficiency, stood, grabbed the bottle of water from the desk, twisted the cap, and pressed it into Liam’s shaky hand.

“Here. Drink. Then rest that back.”

Liam took a long gulp, the water cooling his throat, grounding him. He stared at Dylan, at the huge, still-hard cock hanging between his legs, at the calm in his face. It didn’t make sense.

“You’re… really okay with not cumming?” Liam asked, voice small, almost disbelieving.

Dylan gave a little shrug, the faintest smile curling at his mouth. “Yeah. I’m good. This was about you.”

The words hit Liam harder than the orgasm had. The resemblance to Noah was brutal, the broad shoulders, the face, the structure, the cock even the fucking smell. But the man standing there wasn’t Noah. Not even close.

Dylan was something else entirely. He was kind. Gentle.

He gave him that steady look for a moment longer, then reached for the towel he’d left draped over the chair. “Alright,” he said, voice even. “I’m gonna shower now.”

Liam nodded, still catching his breath, throat working around words he couldn’t quite find. “...Yeah. Okay.”

Dylan gave a small nod back, almost like thanks, and padded out toward the bathroom, leaving Liam sprawled on the bed, sticky, confused, and staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had just happened.

 ---

Liam woke to silence. Too much of it.

He shoved the feeling down before it had a name.

He sat up slow, stretching until the muscle in his lower back complained. His mind flickered back to Dylan, the way he’d handled himself, the way he’d smiled, warm and calm. Too nice.

Liam rubbed at his face.

It felt weird. Probably just guilt about Dylan. A gay guy. The wrong kind of intimacy, with the wrong person. The wrong reaction afterward.

And yet his chest felt tight in the quiet, his stomach twisting like he’d lost something he couldn’t name, let alone admit.

Liam shoved the covers back, muttering, “Whatever. I’m fine.”

By the time he got to work, the morning haze still clung to him. He was sore, restless, trying not to think too much.

Connor was the first to cross his path. He held out a coffee, the kind Liam usually bought for himself, like an awkward offering.

He took the cup, grateful for the gesture. At least Connor wasn’t spinning out, wasn’t manic and dangerous anymore. This version, quiet, almost sheepish, made more sense. That whole bravado Liam had seen before hadn’t really been him.

At the gym, Liam kept his movements measured. Only the machines that wouldn’t bite at his back, nothing reckless. Prudent, careful.

Noah was there too. Of course he was. He worked there. Leaned casually by the free weights, close to Ashley, their shoulders brushing when they laughed. Claire stood with them, a step back, not quite part of the circle but orbiting it.

Liam caught it in the mirror, rolled his eyes, and scoffed under his breath. He bent into his next set, willing himself not to care.

Minutes ticked by in the rhythm of reps, the buzz of conversation, the sound of metal clinking. He kept his focus forward.

But when he racked the weights and lifted his head, Claire’s eyes were on him.

He looked away immediately, didn’t feel like talking, but it was too late. She was already moving toward him.

“Hey.”

Liam flinched at the sound before he even looked. Claire was standing a step away, her gym bag strap hooked in one hand, hair pulled back, eyes soft but knowing in that way only she could manage.

He forced a little smile. “Oh. Hey.”

“You don’t look happy to see me,” she teased.

“I am!” he said quickly, adjusting the bar above him.

Claire tilted her head. “Mm. That sounded convincing.”

He huffed through his nose, refocusing on the machine. “Seriously, I am. Just hurt my back, that’s all.” He pushed through another set of shoulder presses, wincing slightly, trying to mask it.

Claire leaned against the next machine, arms folded, watching him with quiet patience. She didn’t speak until he finished the set, racking the weights with a dull clink.

“I was gonna say hi anyway,” she said lightly. “But also… Noah and Ashley? Being around them lately just feels weird. Like, I don’t know, too close? It makes me feel off.”

Liam’s head snapped toward her before he could stop himself. His voice came out louder than he meant: “Right???” His eyes were wide, almost relieved. “Like what the fuck is that? Noah was never like that. And now suddenly he’s all—” he gestured vaguely, frustrated—”so warm and loving and whatever the fuck? With her? Since when?”

Claire smiled softly, the corner of her mouth tipping up like she’d been waiting for that exact explosion. “I knew there was something wrong.”

Liam realized a second too late what she’d done. He looked down at the floor, muttering, “That was a trap.”

Claire didn’t argue. She just stepped closer, sat down on the bench across from him, her eyes steady on his face. After a beat, she said quietly, “What happened, Liam?”

He swallowed, throat dry. “Nothing. It’s not—”

“Come on,” she said gently. “It’s me. You can tell me.”

“Seriously, I’m—”

He stopped.

God. How many times had he said that lately?

I’m fine.

He let out a long breath and sank onto the bench beside her, shoulders slumping. He stared at his hands for a long moment, words fighting to stay inside. Then, finally:

“He cut me off.”

Claire frowned, waiting.

Liam’s jaw worked. “Because I told him I knew about his dad.” His voice cracked on the last word, anger and hurt tangled up in it. “You were right… he didn’t even let me explain. Just, shut me out. Like I’d crossed some line I didn’t even know was there.”

The silence between them stretched, heavy, but not uncomfortable. Claire let it sit, her presence steady beside him.

Liam scrubbed a hand over his face. “And now he’s out there, laughing with Ashley like nothing happened. Which is whatever, who cares, right? It’s his life. But I feel like this is some weird alternate reality.”

Claire placed a hand lightly on his arm, squeezing once. “You’re not crazy.”

Liam glanced at her, eyes sharp, then away again. “Feels like it.”

The words caught in his throat after that. He shifted forward on the bench, elbows on his knees, staring down at the floor. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Finally, the dam cracked.

“Fuck, Claire… I miss him.” His voice was low, almost strangled. “Just… his friendship. We got close. Closer than I’ve ever been with anyone. I never had a friend like that before, and then he just—” He gestured vaguely, frustrated.

Claire stayed quiet, listening, her expression soft, steady.

“I mean…” Liam rubbed his hands over his face. “We talked about shit. Real shit. He got me in a way most people don’t.”

Not even at home had that ever felt safe.

His mom treated silence like scripture, like keeping quiet was some kind of sacred offering. And his dad, well, he followed his own gospel. Not her verses or explanations, just a set of rules no one spoke out loud. Especially when it came to feelings.

“And now it’s just gone. Like it never mattered.”

Claire tilted her head, her voice gentle but certain. “Of course it mattered. That’s why it hurts.”

Liam huffed, shaking his head, bitterness edging back in. “He even unfollowed me.” He let out a harsh laugh. “Like, what a fucking child.”

Claire’s lips quirked, not mocking, but sad.

Liam leaned back, chest tight, trying to swallow down the mess of anger, hurt.

Claire let the silence stretch, then asked softly, “Have you tried talking to him?”

Liam scoffed, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye. “I don’t even know if I want to anymore. After all this shit, after what he said…” His throat tightened, the words cutting deeper than he meant them to. “He told me to ‘stay the fuck away’ or whatever.”

Claire’s brows drew together, her mouth parting like she wanted to say something. This time she didn’t hold back.

“Noah’s an insensitive asshole,” she said flatly.

Liam let out a sharp breath, almost a laugh, but it came out cracked. “Yeah. He is.”

Claire just watched him, steady, her silence filling in the rest.

Liam shifted. He hated how dramatic it sounded out loud. Over the top. Like it meant more than it should. It was just a friendship. He had lost friends before. Everyone had.

The edge in his voice cracked as it left him, and he leaned back, chest tight, trying to swallow down the mess of anger, hurt.

“Like… I know who he is,” Liam said quietly. “He’s not… nice. He’s not chill. He’s not kind.”

He let out a bitter breath. “He’s… chaos, intense. He makes everything harder.”

He shook his head, eyes low.

“Whatever,” he muttered, shaking his head like he could clear it. “Doesn’t matter.”

They let it drop there. Claire stayed beside him a moment longer, then stood, stretching out her shoulders like the conversation had never happened. Liam followed, wordless.

Back at the machines, he kept his sets light, careful with his back. Between reps, though, his eyes strayed across the room, to where Noah and Ashley were still side by side, too close, too warm.

He scoffed under his breath again and went back to his presses. Claire pretended not to notice, giving him the space to stew in it without calling him out. But he caught her watching anyway.

She didn’t say anything. Not then. But the air between them shifted, faintly off, like she was holding something back. Even as they finished their sets, grabbed their bags, walked side by side to the door, Liam felt it.

Outside, the air was cool, the street buzzing faintly with traffic. At the corner, their paths split.

“See you,” Liam muttered, adjusting the strap on his shoulder. “Thanks for listening…”

“Yeah,” Claire said.

She took a few steps away.

Then stopped.

Turned.

“Hey...Liam?”

He turned as well.

She was looking at him with that same expression she’d had all afternoon.

And finally:

“Have you ever… been in love?”

The question landed… weird.

Out of nowhere.

Liam blinked. “Mm?”

He gave a short, awkward laugh.

“No…I, uh, I don’t think so.”

Claire’s face softened.

She paused.

Her eyes stayed on his

“...I think you have...”

The words slipped under his skin before he could deflect. He froze, a sharp twist in his gut leaving him caught between denial and recognition. His mouth opened, closed. Nothing came out.

And then he understood.

Noah…

She meant Noah.

Right?

What the fuck was she saying?

Carnivorous butterflies churned in his stomach, nausea rising with every twist. It burned cold, panic clawing icy tracks through his chest.

Claire’s gaze stayed on him, kind but unflinching. When she spoke again, her voice had dropped, softer still, almost reverent.

“You talk about him like he’s gravity...”

Liam’s breath stuttered.

His body went completely still.

His eyes widened, unblinking.

He had no answer.

Of course he had no answer. That wasn’t true, He wasn’t,

Claire gave him a small, knowing smile. Nothing more. Then she turned, bag swinging lightly at her side, and walked away down the street.

Liam stood rooted in place, the strap cutting into his shoulder, his whole body strung tight and unsettled.

He told himself to move.

But his body wouldn’t listen.

His throat locked, his tongue thick.

He wanted her to turn back, so he could deny it, so she could explain, so he wouldn’t be left choking on it.

But he couldn’t voice it.

So he just stood there.

Silent.

A bus roared past and sent a gust through his hoodie. He didn’t feel it.

This happened about 2-3 days ago and I had to tell someone. So I am a m(19) and I have been flirting with this guy at work, let’s call him H. We work at a movie theater and he’s about 2 years older than me. He’s a “straight” guy, not much taller than me but super cute guy. We always got along and obviously I had a little crush on him. One night after a late shift we were talking in the parking lot and continued our conversation in his car. One thing led to another and I ended up sucking his dick. Massive dick, about 8-9 inches long and 3 fingers wide (biggest I’ve seen/had in my mouth). After that we’ve been texting and sending nudes back and forth and decided to actually hook up after a week or so of texting after the whole sucking him off thing.

So fast forward to the day we decided to meet up. I have my own apartment, nothing crazy just a studio so we decided to do it at my place.

I was super nervous the whole day, we both had work that day and gave each other looks and smiles the whole shift. I left earlier than him so I decided to go home and prepare myself. I cleaned myself out and took a nice long shower. Put on a cute little gstring and some net legging things I had. When I got out he was about an hour from being off work and heading over to me. So I decided to hop on Grindr and start asking people for advice. I know it’s silly but I genuinely never had a dick in my ass. The most maybe a finger or two. So I wanted to prepare and ask if it hurt, if I’m going to bleed, or what to really expect.

After spending a while on Grindr, talking to other bottoms I got some pretty good advice on positions and techniques that would help me. Next thing I knew he was on his way. He knew it was my first time so I reminded him to take to take it slow and if it hurt to please stop. After about 10 minute he was at my complex. I waited outside and waved him down to come in. We got into my apartment and my stomach was turning and I got a little awkward and silent. He’s really good at making things not awkward so after making a couple jokes and gossiping about work I eased up and started looking at his body and getting horny. I think he knew because he got up from one of my chairs I had set up and walked to me on my bed, grabbed my head and started kissing me.

We made out for a couple of minutes and things got hot and heavy quick. I had on sweats and a hoodie, they were both off within minutes. He looked at what I was wearing flipped me around and was staring my ass up and down and gave me a little slap. He layed me on my bed and told me to stick my ass up. I listened and got into position, he didn’t take off my gstring or leggings, he just moved them to the side and started to lick my ass. I instantly started moaning as I felt his tongue lick me up and down. And as I felt his breathe and mouth on my hole I realized my dick was Rick hard and I was moaning pretty loudly lol.

After a couple of mins I told him to stop and take off his pants. A log fell of his underwear and I immediately threw him on the bed and started to suck him off. He grabbed my head as I bobbled up and down on his, spiting and sucking it back up on his tip. After a while he told me he needed my ass now. So he got up, grabbed a condom and lube out of his pants and I got in the bed layed on my stomach and stuck my ass in the air. He then put lube on my hole and started to spread it around all over me and then stuck a single finger in my ass. A moan escaped from my mouth and he took it out and lathered his own cock with the line. He told me to tell him when to pull out or stop and I just shook my head.

I felt his tip press on my hole and put a little bit of pressure for a couple of seconds, at first I thought it wasn’t going to happen and then “pop” the tip slipped right in and I let out a gasp. It did hurt so I told him to wait. I was actually in a lot of pain and was considering to take it out and run away for a split second but I wanted this so I stuck it out. After a couple of minute of me adjusting and him playing with my cheeks the pain went away and I told him I’m okay and to start again. He started to thrust slowly and I felt his dick slowly touch every crevice of my insides. It felt so good and I was moaning and grabbing my sheets. He was thrusting in and out of me slowly and talking to me telling me I’m his slut and telling me to say it back to him

He started picking up speed after a while and I was just moaning “yes yes yes, I’m your slut daddy” and I got lost in pure pleasure and a little bit of pain but mostly pleasure. At one point he leaned down and wrapped his hand around my mouth while continuing to thrust and talked in my ear saying “you love this dick in your guts baby” all I could do it mutter yes through his hands continuously. He took his hands off my mouth and told me “let me hear how much you love it then baby” and instantly started to scream while he pounded me and slapped my ass. He told me to cum and as if he had a remote that controlled me I felt it to start building up into the best, most intense orgasm I’ve had in my life. I continued to scream through my orgasm and start to shake, and on queue he started to cum inside me ass well. Even though it was through a condom I felt the pulse from his dick inside me and every shot of cum in me and it just made my orgasm last longer.

After we both finished and caught our breath we layed together for a while joking and laughing how everyone in my complex knows I just got the best dick of my life. We talked for a while and finally left. When I stood up to let him out my legs were shaking so bad I almost fell. We are still texting and plan to meet again and try some new positions :)

I also did get a noise complaint from one of my neighbors lol

Thanks for listening to my story, sorry for how long it was.

Everyone involved is 18+

Hey everyone since my last post over a year ago I’ve had 2 more encounters with someone else and both times have been amazing with him and lately I’ve been thinking about hitting him up again since he’s moving out of state very soon.

Our first time he came over my house and we were supposed to drink and smoke a blunt then see what happens after. We both started with two buzzballs each and then idk what happened but we ended up talking and talking for 4 hours forgetting about smoking so when he brought it up it was already 12am so I told him do you just wanna kiss and see what happens and he said he was down. We ended up making out for cool 5 minutes or so then I asked him if he wanted to sit in the couch. We sat down started making out again and he ended up getting ontop of me slowly grinding on my cock. I grabbed his hand so he can start stroking me and a few seconds later he was giving me head and let me tell you guys… it was probably the best head I had because of how warm and wet his mouth was. I ended up lasting roughly less than 10 minutes and when I told him I was going to cum he kept going and swallowed my whole load.

Second time we hooked up it was months later. I hit him up since I was feeling so horny and we ended up agreeing on seeing each other later that night. He came over we both drank a buzzball each chatted a bit then I asked him if he wanted to go to my room. We went into my room and right away we started making out he pushed me down to my bed got on top and started kissing me. We both took our shorts and underwear off and honestly kissing someone while we’re both naked is probably my favorite thing ever. Once again he went down on me and the head was just as amazing as the first time he swallowed my whole load AGAIN.

Perhaps this third time I’ll return him the favor and actually fuck him before he moves out of state because he’s been wanting to bounce on it ever since our first encounter 🙈

All characters are 18+ and fully consenting....

I’m Adam, 34. Until last summer I thought I had my shit figured out. Closeted enough that only a handful of guys on Grindr knew I liked getting my guts rearranged, but open enough with myself that I stopped pretending I was bi after the third time I ghosted a woman mid-date because my dick refused to cooperate. 

My best friend Aiden is 36, built like a brick shithouse from fifteen years of framing houses, married to Lisa for eight years, two kids, the whole American Dream package. He’s the kind of guy who’ll talk about pussy for hours, then get weirdly quiet when the conversation drifts toward anything involving two dicks. I always figured he was just one of those straight dudes who needs the idea of women in the room to stay hard. Turns out I was half right and completely fucking wrong.

Last July Aiden invited me up to his family’s lake house for the long weekend. Lisa’s younger brother Jordan was coming too with his new wife, some soft-spoken nurse named Megan. Jordan’s 29, leaner than Aiden, darker hair, that quiet intensity that makes you wonder what the hell he’s thinking. I’d met him twice before at family cookouts. Both times he held eye contact a little too long when Aiden wasn’t looking, then laughed it off like nothing happened. I told myself I was projecting. I’m good at lying to myself when the alternative is complicated.

Friday night was normal. Burgers, beer, the kids running around until they crashed. Lisa and Megan went to bed early. Aiden, Jordan, and I stayed out on the deck finishing a second case of shitty domestic. Aiden got drunk enough to start talking about how Lisa hadn’t blown him in months.

Jordan just smirked into his bottle and said, “Maybe you’re not asking right..man.” The way he said it made the hair on my arms stand up. I changed the subject to work and pretended my cock wasn’t starting to thicken in my shorts.

Saturday afternoon the women decided they wanted to grill again and shooed us out of the kitchen. Aiden suggested a swim. The lake was private, no neighbors close enough to give a shit. We stripped down to boxers and jumped in. Cold water, good for hiding half-chubs. 

We horsed around like we were twenty again, shoving each other under, racing to the floating dock. At some point Aiden and I were treading water a few yards from the dock while Jordan floated on his back, arms out, looking like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Aiden swam closer, voice low. “Adam….”

“Mmm… yeahh”

“Y-you ever think about… you know… Um.. Just trying it?”

I almost swallowed lake water. “What…? Trying what?”

“Don’t play dumb, man. You’ve been looking at my brother-in-law’s ass since we got here.”

My face went hot. “Fuck you.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t mean. “I’m serious.. man…Lisa’s been talking about how quiet Jordan’s been since the wedding. Thinks he’s stressed. But I think he’s horny and doesn’t know what to do with it.” He paused, treading water, looking at me like he was deciding something.

“You still suck dick or what?”

I stared at him. “You’re married Aiden”

“And you’re my best friend who’s been jerking off to the idea of getting used by two guys who ‘aren’t into that’ for years. Don’t look so shocked. I’ve known since that camping trip when you got drunk and tried to kiss me.”

“That was fucking six years ago… you sick”

Yes. that was six years ago. I’d blacked most of it out. Apparently Aiden hadn’t.

Jordan paddled over, water dripping off his chest. “Hey… you two… Er… plotting something?”

Aiden didn’t even hesitate. “Asking if he wants to get on his knees for us later.”

Jordan’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Aiden. He didn’t look surprised. He looked interested. “Your wife’s twenty feet away making potato salad.”

“She’s busy. Bathroom’s got a lock.. bud.”

I should have said no. I should have laughed it off and swam away. Instead my mouth said, “You’re both fucking insane.”

Jordan’s voice was quieter. “But you’re hard.”

I glanced down. 

“Shit”

Boxers don’t hide shit when the water’s clear. Neither did theirs.

We climbed out, toweled off, and walked back up to the house like nothing had happened. Lisa waved from the grill. Megan was setting the table. Aiden clapped me on the shoulder and said something about needing to piss. Jordan followed. I stood there like an idiot for thirty seconds before my feet moved.

The bathroom was the half-bath off the mudroom, small, one window high up, door that locked with a little push-button. Aiden was already leaning against the sink when I stepped in. Jordan shut the door and locked it. The click sounded loud as hell.

Aiden didn’t waste time.

“Hey.. you stupid.. Fucking s-slow…” , He reached out, grabbed the waistband of my wet boxers, and yanked them down.

“- slow down” 

My cock sprang up, already leaking. He wrapped a rough hand around it and stroked once, slow. “Hell to slow down.  Jesus knows how I wonder what this felt like.”

Jordan stepped in behind me, chest against my back, mouth near my ear. “You gonna be quiet or do we need to shut you up?”

I turned my head enough to catch his mouth. He kissed like he’d been thinking about it for a while... hungry, a little clumsy, tongue pushing in like he was claiming territory. Aiden kept stroking me while Jordan’s hands slid down my sides, over my hips, then around to cup my balls. I made a noise into Jordan’s mouth that was half laugh, half moan.

Aiden dropped to his knees. I looked down. My best friend... married, two kids, talked about tits like they were the only thing that mattered... opened his mouth and took the head of my gay ass cock in like he’d done it before. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d practiced on something. I didn’t care. The warm mouth of him, the way his hand braced on my thigh, the low sound he made when I pushed a little deeper... it short-circuited whatever leftover shame I had left.

Jordan’s fingers found my puckered hole, slick with spit he’d worked up while watching. He pushed one in, then two, stretching me open while Aiden sucked like he was trying to win a bet. I braced one hand on the sink, the other in Aiden’s short hair, and just took it. The bathroom was tiny. Every sound seemed amplified… Outside I could hear the women talking, the kids laughing somewhere farther away. It made everything sharper.

Aiden pulled off with a pop. “Fuck… damnnn… Adam, you taste like lake water and precum. Jordan, you want a turn?”

Jordan spun me around, pushed me toward the sink so I was bent over it, and dropped his own boxers. His cock was thicker than Aiden’s, darker, already leaking a string of pre cum that hit my lower back when he lined up. He didn’t ask again. He just pushed in, slow enough that I felt every inch, fast enough that the burn made my eyes water. I hissed through my teeth. Aiden stood up, stepped in front of me, and fed his cock into my mouth to keep me quiet.

They found a pace like they’d planned it. Jordan fucking me in long, deep while Aiden used my throat, one hand on the back of my head, the other braced on the sink next to mine. Every time Jordan bottomed out I made a muffled noise around Aiden’s cock. Every time Aiden thrust forward I gagged a little and Jordan’s grip on my hips tightened. It was the kind of sex that leaves you dripping and red-faced and still wanting more.

Aiden came first, pulling out of my mouth at the last second and painting my tongue and chin. I swallowed what I could. Jordan lasted longer, hips snapping harder, one hand sliding around to stroke my cock in time with his thrusts. I came against the cabinet door with a broken sound that Aiden muffled with his palm. Jordan followed a few seconds later, burying himself deep and flooding me, hips stuttering, forehead pressed between my shoulder blades while he cursed under his breath.

We stayed like that for a minute, breathing hard, the only sound was the distant sizzle of the grill and someone calling for the kids to wash their hands. Jordan pulled out carefully. I felt him drip down my thigh. Aiden handed me a towel, then used another to wipe his own cock and my face. Nobody said anything. Jordan just looked at me, still half-hard, and said, “We’re doing that again tonight after they go to bed.”

Aiden grinned, that same shit-eating grin he gets when he wins a bet. “Lisa’s out cold by eleven. Megan takes melatonin. We’ll be fine.”

I pulled my boxers up, wincing and unlocked the door. We walked out separately. I went straight to the fridge for a beer and drank half of it in one go. Lisa asked if I was okay. I said the water had been colder than I expected. She laughed and handed me a plate.

That night they both came to the guest room. No lights, just hands and mouths and the creak of the old mattress. Jordan held me down while Aiden fucked me this time, He was not like Jordan, he took his own sweet time, talking the whole time about how tight I was, how he should’ve done this years ago… Regretting wasting all those years.

When Jordan took his turn he made me look at him, made me say I wanted it, made me cum a second time with his hand over my mouth. He was a fucking hard horny fucker. Afterward they stayed long enough to clean up, then slipped out like nothing had happened. I lay there smelling like both of them and wondering how the fuck I was going to look Lisa in the eye at breakfast.

And Megan… Jesus

Sunday morning was almost normal…. Almost. Aiden kept finding excuses to brush past me in the kitchen. Jordan sat across the table and watched me eat toast like he was remembering the shape of my mouth around his cock. When the women took the kids down to the dock, Aiden cornered me in the hallway, hand already on my crotch.

“We’re not done… Adam..” he said. 

“Jordan’s got the guest room at their place next weekend. Megan’s on nights. You in?”

I should have said no… Really? Yeah.. I should have packed my bag and driven home and deleted both their numbers. Instead I said, “Yeah. I’m in.”

I drove home that evening with dried cum still in my boxers and a text from Jordan waiting..

Bring the lube next time… Spit doesn’t do shit… I’m not going easy on you.

~

Be honest, guys… 😂

If your married best friend and his brother-in-law pulled this shit on you

Would you have gone along with it too... or would you have run for the fucking hills?

No judgment

Everyone in this story is 18+.

Dylan and I had known each other for ages. We were ostensibly best friends, two bros who shared similar interests and loved to have sleepovers every weekend, playing video games until the sun came up and destroying our sleep schedules in the process. And while all of that was true, there was a crucial piece missing from that story. We were also boyfriends.

That last part was pretty new. It still made me giddy thinking about it. The love story of how two best friends realized there was something more, and somehow it all worked out.

Right now, I was standing on my boyfriend’s front porch and waiting for him to let me in. I’d already rung the bell twice, so there was nothing left to do but be patient.

I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. A second later, a much taller and wider figure than I expected opened up.

“Hello, Michael!”

“Oh, hi Mr. Smith!”

“Come on, Mikey. You know you don’t have to call me that.”

I smiled as I walked past him and on inside. “Alright, Harrison, then.”

He silently shut the door behind me, then led me into the kitchen. “What brings you here today?”

I looked at him, slightly confused. “I’m here to see Dylan,” I said. “We were gonna play some video games up in his room.”

“Shoot, I should’ve known you weren’t here for me!” Harrison joked. “Sorry, bud. Dylan’s not home right now.”

“Oh. Well, that’s okay! I can totally come back later. I didn’t mean to intrude or anything.” I turned to go, but my boyfriend’s dad stopped me.

“No no, it’s no problem at all, really. Here, let me get you something to drink.” Before I could protest, he was already filling up a glass of water. He placed it on the counter and pushed it across the surface, impressively not spilling a single drop as it slid into my hand.

“Uh, thanks,” I said awkwardly. I took a sip and set the glass back on the counter, wondering what in the world I was going to talk to my boyfriend’s dad about.

“So,” he began, breaking the silence. “How long have you two been dating?“

My jaw dropped. My face blushed and I was suddenly flustered, unable to form a coherent response. “I- we- what are you talking about?”

He laughed, leaning back and resting his hands on the kitchen counter. “Come on, Michael. Don’t act surprised. You think I don’t know what goes on in my own house?” He gave me a knowing look, putting extra emphasis on that last part.

I felt my heart fall into my stomach. If he really knew what he implied he knew, then that meant…

“That’s right,” he said, watching the look of realization form on my face. “The walls in this house are thinner than you’d think. I’ve heard my fair share of noise coming from Dylan’s room whenever you’re over.” 

“I’m so sorry,” I blurted out. “I… I don’t know what to say.” I could feel the panic flooding me, my mind racing a million miles a minute.

“It’s okay,” he said calmly. “I didn’t say I was mad about it. Quite the opposite, actually.” He stepped over and put an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close in a fatherly sort of way. “You’re a good kid, Michael. More than anything, I’m happy my boy’s in good hands.” He lowered his voice. “And I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed the ‘entertainment’ from sharing a wall with you two.”

My eyes went wide, my face turning a deeper shade of red.

“That’s right,” Harrison continued. “You two have kept me up more times than I care to count. I tried ignoring it for a while, but it can be pretty distracting. Especially the sound of your moans from the other side of that wall.” There was a wide smirk on his face, filled with the knowledge that he was in on my deepest, darkest secret.

I was beyond humiliated. I didn’t know what to say or do. All I knew was that my boyfriend’s dad knew we were together, he knew we were having sex in his son’s room, and worst of all, he knew that I was a bottom. “Please don’t tell Dylan that you know,” I said softly. “He’d be mortified.”

“Oh, I won’t,” Dylan’s dad said. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He rustled my hair, then stepped back to stand across from me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, unsure how to continue after that. “Do you know when Dylan will be home?” I asked.

”Not for a while,” his dad said. “Just you and me, buddy.” Harrison grabbed his crotch, drawing my attention to an enormous bulge I never really paid much mind to. Until now.

My heart began to pound in my chest. I could feel my pulse quickening, and worse, I could feel the blood rushing straight to my dick. This was so stupid. The most idiotic thing I could possibly do came to mind, and once it did, it was impossible to disregard.

“I guess… it wouldn’t be so bad to spend some time together,” I found myself saying. “Just the two of us. You know, since you’re my boyfriend’s dad and all.”

Harrison grinned. “Exactly. We should get to know each other a little more.” His hand was still on his bulge, which I only knew because I’d been unable to pull my eyes away.

“How- how do you suppose we do that?” I asked timidly. Our conversation was slowly circling the drain, and I was afraid there was only one way it could end.

“Well,” Harrison started, unbuttoning the top of his jeans as he spoke, “I already know what your moans sound like. What I don’t know is, how do they sound with my dick in your mouth?”

And suddenly I was rock-hard. He knew it, too. It was painfully obvious from the tent in my basketball shorts that I was incredibly turned on. I swallowed, stalling for time, thinking of any way I could back out of this situation. And in reality, there were plenty of options. But not when I wanted my boyfriend’s dad’s cock more than anything. It was tantalizingly close, and in my weakest moment, I gave in.

I got down on my knees, a familiar position but with a foreign participant this time. I glanced up at him, his intimidating presence towering over me. “May I?” I asked.

His grin widened. “Go right ahead,” he said. My boyfriend’s dad undid the zipper for me, but he left the rest to me.

I reached up with shaking hands and slipped my fingers into his waistband. I took a deep breath, acknowledging to myself that there was no going back from this. Then I tugged Harrison’s pants and underwear, bringing them midway down his thighs.

And that’s when I found out that my boyfriend’s dad was HUNG.

Mr. Smith’s - no, Harrison’s - dick stood right before my eyes. It was the fattest cock I’d ever seen, with a heavy set of balls hanging underneath. A dense bush surrounded it, all together creating the perfect package. I was in the presence of a real man.

“Go on, Michael,” he said reassuringly.

”Are you sure?” I asked.

He nodded. He placed a hand on the back of my head and gently guided me towards it.

I leaned forward, but stopped inches from his dick. “What about Dylan?”

My boyfriend’s dad just laughed. “He won’t be home for a while. It’s just you and me, boy.”

My heart skipped when he called me ‘boy.’ I tentatively reached for his dick and wrapped my right hand around it. I’d never touched a dick so big in my life. He had the same general shape as Dylan; I could tell they were father and son just from their dicks. But he was way, way bigger than my boyfriend.

I gradually started to stroke him. My heart raced a million miles a minute. Up and down, in long and steady strokes.

“Suck it,” Harrison said. His tone was firm. It was more of a command than a suggestion.

“O-okay,” I stuttered. I wasn’t new to sucking dick, not by any stretch of the imagination. But the only dick I had sucked before was Dylan’s. And now I was on my knees in front of his dad.

I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue. I closed my eyes as I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around him, feeling him fill my mouth more than I expected. It felt like I had to unhinge my jaw just to fit him, but once he was in, I wanted nothing more than to continue.

I half expected him to thrust forward, to abuse his son’s boyfriend and face-fuck him until he couldn’t take it anymore. But Harrison was nothing like that. He was experienced, firm but gentle, coaxing me into taking more and more with each pass.

“Ahhh,” he sighed. “That’s it, Mikey. Suck daddy’s cock.”

“Mmm,” I moaned back. My dick throbbed, aching in my gym shorts. I reached down and tugged my shorts down to my knees, letting myself free. I continued to stroke him with my right hand while I sucked, but my left hand was now stroking my dick at the same time.

“Goooood boyyyyy.” His hand was still on the back of my head. As the blowjob went on, I felt him pushing more and more, forcing me to take him deeper than I otherwise thought myself capable. “Think you can deepthroat Daddy?”

“Mhm!” I said eagerly. I stopped all else, focusing entirely on Harrison’s cock. I placed my hands on his ass and pulled myself forward, using his body for leverage. With entirely too much enthusiasm, I lunged forward and shoved his dick deep down my throat.

“Oh fuck!” he yelled.

I was proud of myself for taking so much of him, but I immediately gagged and had to pull back. I was gasping for air, with spit running down my chin. “Ah, sorry, Mr. Smith. It’s just… you’re so big.”

He didn’t seem mad or disappointed. He just grinned. “Is that how you’ve been sucking my son’s dick?” he asked. “Gagging before you’re even halfway down his shaft?”

I was taken aback. My cheeks flushed, suddenly hot with embarrassment. “No, Sir,” I muttered. Then more quietly, “He’s not nearly as big as you, Mr. Smith.” It was true. Dylan wasn’t small by any means, but he was nothing like his father.

“I see,” he replied. “Well, I’ll excuse it for now, but you’d better learn how to deepthroat come next time.”

“N- next time?”

Harrison chuckled. “Ohhh yeah. You think this is a one-time deal, boy? This is just the beginning.”

I stared up at him with wide eyes. I was so scared, so nervous… but also so horny. My eyes traveled downward, first to his enormous cock, then to the significantly smaller dick hanging between my legs. Given how horny I was, it was difficult to think straight. All I knew was that I enjoyed sucking Harrison’s cock. More, I enjoyed being told what to do. And if he said this was only the start, I simply had to take his word for it.

I looked back up at him, this time with a new sense of determination. I wasn’t going to be timid about this any longer. “How can I help, then?” I asked eagerly.

“That’s the right attitude,” he said, seeming pleased. “I’m not gonna make you deepthroat me again, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m honestly impressed you could take me as far as you did on your first try. But for now, just sit back and stick out your tongue. Let me do the rest.”

“Can I… jack off too?” I asked. I felt stupid for even posing the question.

There was a sly look on his face as he answered. “No,” he said firmly. “Consider yourself lucky you get to watch.”

I quickly shut up, nodding affirmatively.

Harrison took his cock into his hand and started jerking it. It was mesmerizing to watch. His big balls swung with every stroke, his fist closed around his dick, pumping it faster, harder, giving it all he had.

I wanted to jerk off so badly, but I knew better than to disobey a direct order. So I sat there with my tongue out like the whore I was, desperately waiting for his load.

“You like this, don’t you?” he said. “Serving other men. Serving your boyfriend’s dad.”

“Yes,” I breathed.

“Are you gonna swallow my load, boy?”

“Yes,” I said again.

“Keep that mouth open for me. Nice and wide. You spill a drop, you’re licking it up off the floor. Understood?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, Sir,” he spat. He was still furiously beating off, lasting impressively long considering his pace. “From now on, you’ll call me Sir or Daddy when my son’s not around. Got it, boy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I said. I felt so pathetic, so degraded, and yet… so right. “Please Daddy, can I cum too?”

“No, slut. I already told you that.” He grabbed me by the hair and bounced his dick off my forehead a few times, then rubbed his balls across my face. “Don’t ask again.”

“Can I have your cum, then? Please?”

“That’s more like it.” He let go of me again, then resumed jerking off. From the look of concentration on his face and the lack of further comments, I knew he was racing towards the finish.

“Cum in my mouth, Daddy,” I pleaded.

“Open wide, bitch.”

“Ahhh.” I stuck my tongue as far as it would go.

“Fuck, boy. I’m gonna- fuck! Agh!”

My boyfriend’s dad grunted, thrusting his hips forward, shooting his load like water from a fire hose. Hot ropes hit my tongue. I swallowed quickly, making room for more, but I couldn’t keep up. Cum spilled out of my mouth, coating my chin or dripping onto the floor. I swallowed what I could, savoring the taste of my boyfriend’s dad, subconsciously comparing it to the taste of Dylan’s cum. I couldn’t help myself. I was hard as a rock, leaking, yearning to touch my dick but unable to without disappointing Harrison.

“Holy fuck,” he sighed. He glanced down with a grin, fully satisfied. “Good work, boy. You’ve got potential, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you, Sir.” I glanced again at my dick, untouched and throbbing. “Can I touch it now?” I asked softly.

He looked down, past me, to the drops of cum that had made their way to the floor. He tapped his foot on the ground near them. “Clean this up.”

I did as he said, getting down on all fours and licking the kitchen floor in front of him.

“Atta boy,” he said. He grabbed his pants and pulled them up. “Now get dressed. I’m done with you for now.”

I looked at him in shock. So this was what it meant to get involved with my boyfriend’s dad. To be used, then discarded just as fast. And yet I couldn’t help feeling even more turned on by his blatant disregard for my needs. “Yes, Daddy. Anything you say, Sir.” I stood and pulled my shorts up, sticking my denied cock into the waistband at my best attempt to hide my boner. I wiped my chin with the back of my hand, then licked the last bit of cum off it.

Just then, we heard the front door opening.

“Dad! Mike!” Dylan called from the front of the house. “I’m home!”

Sorry it's been awhile for me posting. It was about a week since we had some fun. My uncles birthday was coming up so we were preparing for a bbq that weekend. A bunch of family was coming out to celebrate so I figured nothing was going to happen since we like to party pretty much all night. I thought the party was going to be on a Saturday turns out we did the family party on Friday. The next day we got up early and went to work. I didn't know that they had another party planned that night but with their friends. When we got home from work I went and got in the shower, my uncle came in and got in the shower with me. This was the first time he ever did that it caught me off guard. He said it would save time because his friends were waiting to throw him a party. Watching him wash his body had me turned on so much, he must've seen me watching him so he told me to help him and wash his cock and balls. I didn't hesitate grabbing the soap and started washing it. It was starting to get hard when he told me that was good. He rinsed off and got out. I went to turn off the water when I heard my grandpa tell me to leave it on. I didn't even know he was in there watching the whole time. He gets in the shower with a full hard on and tells me to get on my knees and start sucking his dick. I told him to rinse it off first with a really stern voice tells me "do it now and never talk back to him". I'm on my knees and I could smell the sweat from his cock and balls. I take a deep breathe and start licking that hard shaft and take it deep down my throat. Tasting the salty sweat on his cock made me gag a bit but he told me don't stop as he was close to blowing a load. He grabs the back my head and thrusts his throbbing cock, blowing his load in my mouth and down my throat. He told me to get up and rinse off, so I did. I get out of the shower so turned when he tells me that he wanted to be the first one to cum in me tonight. I didn't know what he meant about that, but I found out later that night.

Another true story coming soon about that night.

About 10 years ago, I used to date a legitimate Backpage whore named Danielle. I knew her before she started whoring herself out, but I was just fucking her every once in a while. We fully got together in my mid 20s, her sleeping in my bed, taking my dick in her mouth or pussy, and then going out and taking other guys dicks in every hole for money or drugs. She was very sexy and very good in bed, the main reasons I stuck with her for a bit. She took middle to high income clients and always used condoms for her ass or pussy, but would suck cock raw.

While she knew I was bi, she didn't know I was going out and getting fucked while she was working. I would find older guys on Craigslist who could host and top. If she knew I was cheating, she would have been pissed and used it against me. She was a very vindictive person. She also wasn't down for bi mmf threesomes, or I would have certainly done them. She only liked ffm, and we did two of those. She didn't like the idea of watching guys fuck.

There were multiple times she was out there swallowing a whole cock, taking a load down her throat for $100-$400 while I did the same thing for free. Sometimes I would be her lookout tho, watching from a distance as she gave someone a blow job in a car, or rode them, to make sure she didn't get hurt. I would get quite jealous when I had to watch.

I remember getting my ass fucked raw and holding in his cum until I was back with Danielle. We made out with other men's dicks on each of our lips, Danielle's mouth still tasting like cum. I told her in the past that I was fine with her not brushing after. I hadn't cum yet from getting fucked, so later that night when I fucked Danielle, she got a huge load up her pussy from all the prostate stimulation my top gave me with his cock.

I only got to fuck Danielle's ass once. I fingered it many times, but the one time I fucked her ass, my cock was too painful and she didn't enjoy herself. She ended up tapping out after about 10 mins of doggy, and I just jacked off and came all over her hole. When she did it for money, it was always with guys with smaller dicks, not much bigger than my 2 fingers.

I am proud that I can take more dick than an anal whore lol. I have used some really big dildos.

I have videos/pics up if u want to see what I look like! I'm married now, but it's my dream to one-day do mmf with my wife and a top we are comfortable with.

The room had gone quiet in the way a cathedral does before the first note of the organ. Except this wasn’t reverence born of prayer. It was hunger held on a leash. Thirteen men, arranged in a loose ring around the Wolves’ Den, all of them watching as Lachlan stepped forward.

Sebastian lay at the center of the pelts, utterly exposed. His skin had become a document of the night—sweat still damp against almost every inch of skin, cum smeared across his stomach, his own cooling in the hollow of his naval. His hole still felt the phantom pressure of every cock that had split him open, and when he swallowed, he tasted Callum and Noah and Oliver and himself all at once.

Lachlan didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to.

The captain dropped to one knee on the edge of the mattress, and the furs shifted beneath his weight. Up close, his body was even more overwhelming than the earlier glimpses had suggested—the broad span of his chest, the dark-blond hair that covered his pecs and arrowed down his stomach, the dense muscle of his thighs where they flexed against the pelts. His cock rose from a thick thatch of hair and stood eight inches against his lower belly, uncut, the full foreskin already drawn back from the wet head. A bead of precome gathered at the tip, then dropped in a long, slow string onto Sebastian’s hip.

“You’ve been so good for us,” Lachlan said, his voice pitched low, meant only for the man beneath him even though the whole room could hear. “I watched it all from the beginning. The way you took looked after Finn had taken you first. The way you held yourself together through Mateo and Bear. The way Oliver used you until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

You were made for tonight, weren’t you?”

Sebastian tried to answer, but his voice had been fucked out of him. What came out was a thin, ragged sound—half yes, half plea. His cock, which he’d believed could not rise again, twitched against his stomach and started to fill.

Lachlan’s hand came down on his knee, warm and vast. “I’ll take it as a yes.” He spread Sebastian’s legs with the same controlled strength he used to clear a ruck, then brought both knees up, folding him open. The position was final. Unavoidable. Sebastian’s heels ended up near his own ears, and the full length of his spent, slick, loosened body was offered to the captain of the Wolfhounds.

Across the room, Bear moved. The big Welshman had been standing near the bar, one hand resting on the polished wood, the other still carrying a faint sheen from his interrupted shower. His cock, thick and circumsized, hung between his thighs, already rising again as he watched his husband position their Little Spoon. He didn’t approach yet. But his presence became a second gravity well in the room, and Sebastian felt it's pull.

Lachlan reached into the tangle of blankets and found the bottle of lube. Then upon closer inspection realized there was no need. Semen was still dripping slowly out of Sebastions loosen hole. Lachlan to a long drag across with his tounge tasting his husband and others. Then he leaned forward, pressing the head of his cock through the slickness.

“I look forward to this part everytime” Lachlan said, his voice carrying now, deliberate and formal. “The last thing you get from us tonight. The first thing you’ll remember tomorrow.” He paused, his head just past Sebastions entrance. "Tell me you want this, tell me how badly you need me inside you"

“Yes.” The word came out stronger this time, scraped but clear. “God, yes. Please. I want everything.”

Lachlan’s eyes held his. Gray as rain, steady as stone.

He pushed in.

The first inch made Sebastian’s spine arch off the mattress. Lachlan wasn’t the longest cock he’d taken tonight—Finn had that honor—but the captain’s thickness was closer to Bear’s, and he used it with a patient, unyielding pressure that didn’t stop until Sebastian’s body yielded. The stretch was a slow burn, a bloom of heat that spread from his hole up through his lower back, down the backs of his thighs, into the soles of his feet. His own cock leapt and smeared fresh precome across his stomach.

“There,” Lachlan breathed when he was pushed in to the hilt. His hips were flush against Sebastian’s ass, his balls resting heavy in the sticky heat. The room was utterly silent. Even breathing seemed to have stopped. “Now you’re mine.”

He began to move.

The rhythm was not the frantic it was deeper, slower, a deliberate claiming. Each stroke pulled out until only the head remained, then pushed back in with an inexorability that made Sebastian feel every inch of his tunnel being opened and reshaped. The curve of Lachlan’s cock dragged along his prostate with a steady, building pressure that turned his bones to glass. His eyes rolled back at the first few thrusts, but Lachlan’s voice brought him back.

“Look at me.”

Sebastian forced his eyes open. Lachlan loomed above him, his face flushed, his jaw set, sweat beading at his temples. The gold ring of his body hair caught the light as he rocked forward, and the sight of him—this man who had led them through the match, who held the pack together, who now held Sebastian’s entire body on the edge of his cock—made a heat rise in Sebastian’s chest.

And then Bear was there.

The mattress dipped on Sebastian’s right, and a huge, warm hand landed on his shoulder. He turned his head and found Bear lying on his side beside them, his face close, his eyes on his husband. He had stripped off the towel, and his erection had returned in full—thick, uncut, the head dark and wet. He reached out and laid one big paw on Lachlan’s lower back, just above the swell of his ass.

“He feels good, doesn’t he?” Bear’s voice was a low rumble, Welsh and warm. “Tight even after all that. Greedy little hole.”

Lachlan made a sound, something between a grunt and a laugh. “He does. Come here.”

Bear didn’t need more invitation. He moved behind Lachlan, kneeling between his husband’s spread thighs, and pressed his chest to Lachlan’s back. The two of them together were a mountain of muscle and hair and heat, and Sebastian could only watch as Bear’s large hand disappeared between them, working something slick, positioning. Lachlan’s rhythm stuttered for a moment, his eyes closing.

“That’s it,” Bear said, kissing the back of Lachlan’s neck. “Open up for me.”

The sound Lachlan made when Bear entered him was raw and low, his whole body shuddering through its connection to Sebastian. He had to stop moving for a moment, buried to the hilt in Sebastian while Bear worked deeper into him, the three of them locked in a chain of sweaty pleasure.

Sebastian could feel the echo of it—the way Lachlan’s cock seemed to grow even harder inside him, the way the captain’s rhythm changed to accommodate what was being done to him.

Then Bear began to move, and Lachlan had no choice but to move with him.

The chain came alive.

Bear drove forward, and Lachlan was pushed deeper into Sebastian. Bear pulled back, and Lachlan withdrew with him. The three of them found a rhythm—not three separate bodies but one long, rolling wave of muscle and need. Each of Bear’s deep strokes sent Lachlan deeper into Sebastian, and each of Lachlan’s thrusts drove a sound from Sebastian’s throat. The wet slap of skin against skin rose from the Den, audible in the hush, and the men around them began to respond.

Somewhere to the left, Sebastian heard a moan. Callum, back from the shower, stood with one hand working his already-soft cock, watching with an expression of open admiration. Mateo sat on the arm of a couch, legs spread, his thick shaft angry and red. Finn had moved closer, closer than the others, kneeling on the floor beside the Den with his eyes locked on Sebastian’s face. His own cock stood up hard against his stomach, but his hands were still.

“He’s beautiful like this,” Finn whispered, and the wonder in his voice cut through the deeper sounds of the rutting.

Sebastian turned his head toward him, and Finn crawled the last few inches until his face was level with Sebastian’s hip. For a moment, he just watched the place where Lachlan’s cock disappeared and reappeared, his green eyes dark. Then he looked up at Sebastian.

“I want to taste you when you come,” Finn said, and the words were so earnest, so unlike the earlier bravado, that Sebastian felt a pulse of pure heat race down his spine.

“Yes,” he managed, and Finn’s face broke into a grin.

Then Finn’s mouth was on him.

The wet heat of it was like a new instrument added to an orchestra already at crescendo. Finn swallowed Sebastian’s cock with the same hungry skill he’d shown in their private moment, but this time there was no urgency. He worked his throat in long, slow pulls, his lips sealing tight around the shaft, his tongue flattening against the vein on the underside. His hand cupped Sebastian’s balls, rolling them gently, the touch electric against their furred skin.

Above them, Bear’s rhythm had changed. The big Welshman was no longer patient. He had both hands on Lachlan’s hips now, his face buried against the back of the captain’s neck, and he was driving into his husband with a force that shook the entire Den. Each thrust pushed Lachlan into Sebastian with enough impact that Sebastian’s body slid an inch across the fur, then was hauled back by the grip Lachlan kept on his legs.

“I’m close,” Lachlan ground out. His voice was ragged, barely his. “Bear, I’m close.”

“Not yet,” Bear answered, but his own voice had gone thick and strained. “Wait for him. You finish together.”

That command, issued in Bear’s warm, unbreakable rumble, was what finally tipped Sebastian toward the edge. He tore his gaze from Finn’s working mouth and looked up at Lachlan, at Bear behind him, at the sweating, straining column of their joined bodies. The room around them had gone soft and peripheral. There was nothing but the chain of them, moving together, and the tightening in his balls, and the heat building in his gut like water behind a dam.

Finn sucked harder. His cheeks hollowed. His free hand pressed down on Sebastian’s lower belly, steadying him, and the pressure added one more layer to the impossible weight gathering inside him. Sebastian’s hands found Finn’s hair, and he held on.

“Now,” Lachlan gasped. “Now, now, now—”

The dam broke.

Sebastian’s back arched clear off the mattress, and he came with a sound that didn’t even sound human. His cock kicked in Finn’s mouth, pulsing rope after rope of release down the younger man’s throat, and Finn swallowed and swallowed, his throat working around the head, his hand milking the last drops from the shaft. At the same moment, Lachlan drove deep and stilled, and Sebastian felt the sudden bloom of heat as the captain began to pump inside him, pulse after pulse filling a space already overflowing. Lachlan’s cry was swallowed by Bear’s mouth, but his body shook with it, a full-body tremor that traveled through his cock and into Sebastian’s core.

Bear let go a heartbeat later. His roar was muffled against Lachlan’s shoulder, and his hips bucked once, twice, three times as he emptied himself into his husband, holding himself so deep that his thighs quivered. The chain of them froze—Sebastian with Finn’s mouth on him, Lachlan buried inside him, Bear buried inside Lachlan—and for a long, suspended moment, no one breathed.

Then the room itself seemed to exhale.

Bodies sagged. Bear withdrew with a wet sound and collapsed onto his side, dragging Lachlan with him. The captain’s cock slipped from Sebastian with a final, obscene pull, and a thick gush of seed followed it out, pooling on the already ruined pelts beneath him. Finn released Sebastian’s softening cock with a kiss and sat back, his lips shiny, a trickle of white escaping the corner of his mouth.

Sebastian stared at the ceiling. His body was no longer his own. Every inch of him sang with use, with release, with a satisfaction so deep it had hollowed him out and filled him back up again. He felt the pack moving around him, heard soft laughter and low words, felt a hand squeeze his shoulder and another hand through his hair.

Then Lachlan’s voice, rough and warm, close to his ear: “You came so beautifully for us.”

Sebastian turned his head. Lachlan was smiling at him, one arm flung over Bear’s chest, his face flushed and loose. The captain reached out and wiped something from Sebastian’s jaw with his thumb, then brought the thumb to his own mouth.

“The ceremony is complete,” Lachlan said. “You’re one of us. You were always going to be.”

True story. All individuals over 18

Ok so this happened last night and thought y'all would enjoy.

I typically workout in the evenings. Lift for an hour, then a protein shake in the hot tub for 5 mins, then sauna for 5 mins, then a nice shower to wash off the sweat. I am always naked in the hot tub, but if there are others in the sauna, I towel up to be polite. If I'm alone, I'm naked. I'm normally the last one in my small gym and frequently have the locker room to myself.

Last night, after a nice chest day, I went into the locker room to do my post workout routine. Didn't see anyone in the locker room at first so I strut around naked holding my towel and my shake and head straight to the hot tub. From there, you can see who enters the sauna and steam room. I thought I was alone, but caught someone walking naked from the sauna to the shower and then back. He was a little older than me (probably late 40s) but had a decent body and surprisingly decent sized penis. I finished my shake in the tub and then went to sauna where he was sitting there naked and his cock hanging low.

Since he was naked, I didn't bother toweling up. We sat there together and he started light conversation as I caught him passing glances at my cock. (See my pics in my profile. I hang low.) He was visiting and leaving the next day.

I spread my legs to give him a better look. I could tell he was getting hard. He tried covering up. I said "it's ok. You can look. I know you like it. And I like the attention". All he replied with was "fuck" and started stroking. He kept on complimenting my dick, telling me his husband doesn't fuck him enough and he is into hairy sweaty men. His dirty talk was desperate. He begged me to let him hold it, to come to his hotel room as he stroked. I told him to check the locker room to see if anyone was there. He comes back and says empty.

I spread my legs and nods, and he gets on his knees and throats my cock to the base. No gag reflex. I shoved myself deeper down his throat and slap his ass and call him a good boy. At this point I can tell he's a sub. I sit him on the ground and hold him by his hair. I straddle him shove my cock deep down his throat, pull off, spit on him, put it back in, pull off, slap him. Finally he tells me he's going to cum and unleashes a big load all over himself.

I didn't cum but I enjoyed the domination and attention. We shower together and have good conversations. I'll be seeing him when he's back next month.

Everyone is over the age of 18

----------------------------------------------------

Of course, I remember him. I was shoved in lockers so many times by him that I can hear the sound whenever I see a picture of him. 

10 years later, he's running for city councillor and I have to see his smug smile on every lawn on every street. 

What sound does my body make against a locker, you ask? Well, there was that metallic bang. And then there was the snickering Brody and his friends made as they sauntered away. That's the main sound that I'm talking about. 

I’ve moved on, obviously. It's been 10 years and I've been out of the closet for 8 of them. I got my education and I make a decent living now. No steady boyfriend yet but I bought my own place before most of my peers. 

There’s another sound that rings in my head when I see Brody’s “vote for me” signs when I drive to work. It also happens to be the sound that makes me look for his pictures on Instagram.

“Take it, beta.” 

When he wasn't with his buddies, Brody would yank me into the washroom. 

“I know you're a cocksucker.” 

He never even took down his boxers. I had to blow him through the slit in the middle. 

“Yeah that's right. Suck it.” 

And he always held my head down when he came, so there was never any evidence of what we did. 

So, it was always between getting my body shoved or my head shoved. 

To this day, he's still the hottest guy that ever let me blow him. From his Instagram, Brody still has the perfect body. You know, the kind of chest that fills out a t-shirt, and an ass that makes you wonder how he even got that in the first place. There is one particular picture of him at the beach where his wet swim shorts sagged. The profile shot of his V line along with his muscle butt has taken my imagination to wild places on lonely nights.

Not that he ever let me touch his ass. I wasn't even allowed to use my hands on his cock. It was mouth or nothing for him. 

With his good looks in a nice suit, I already knew he was going to be elected city councillor. I’m grown enough to admit that the world works like that. The women love him, and the men want to be him. 

However, apparently, even handsome men have to canvas for votes. I was unlucky enough to be caught in my oldest shirt and sweats when his wife and he knocked on my door. 

Yes, you heard right. Wife. I knew that from his social media too. 

“Hi there, my name is Brody Sanders.” 

His eyes caught mine and I knew right away that he recognized who I was. 

“This is my wife, Tina.” Brody launches into his speech, despite the fact that he no longer made eye contact with me. 

I couldn't follow what he was saying either, so I just nodded until he was done. I might have finally taken a breath when he finished. 

“Even if you don't vote for me, don't forget to vote.” 

I took his pamphlet and closed the door. It threw me off for the rest of the day. While parts of my memory were activated every time I saw a picture of him, having him stand directly in front of me made me remember everything. 

The way he would grab my elbow in the hallway and then shove me in the back into the closest washroom. 

The sound his jeans made when he was pulling them down. 

The big exhale he would make when I swallowed his cock. 

Ding dong! 

For a lack of a cooler word, I was quite literally startled when the door rang around 8pm. I don't get visitors that drop by without notice, so my fantasy went directly to Brody.

And it was him. 

“Tobias McKinnon,” Brody says. “I didn't think you still lived here. Didn't you go to school out of town?” 

“Yeah.” I take a step backwards as the physical memory of him pushing me kicks in. Taking that as an invitation, Brody comes into my house. 

“Nice place.” He looks around. “A little empty.” 

He wasn't wearing his suit anymore. Actually, it looks like he's on a run with his shorts and athletic shirt. 

My nervous system must have been in a shock that my ex-bully was in my house, because I sort of just followed him around as he walked around my living room. 

“You live alone?” Brody asks. I nod, and he smirks. “Still a homo?” 

For all the work that I've done on myself since coming out, it all evaporated as the bigger man sized me up. I felt the dominance radiating off him as he stared me down, and I had to look at his chest instead of his smouldering eyes. 

“You still think about me, don’t you, you loser?” His breath on my forehead excites me and scares me all at once. “I can see you watching my Instagram stories, you know.” 

The humiliating feeling feels just the same. The same burning in my face. The same shame in my heart. 

“You still remember what I like?” Brody says. I look down past his chest and see his thumbs hooked up his shorts’ waistband. “Get on your knees, beta.” 

The same fire in my groin.

I drop down to the hardwood floor, and his shorts come down in front of me.

No underwear. 

And he was definitely on a jog before. The sweaty smell of his crotch hits me in the face and I look up at my ex-bully. 

“Don't you fucking look at me like that.” Pain rips through my head as he grabs my hair and my lips smashes against his flaccid cock. “Suck it, beta. Suck it!” 

“MMm!” I latch onto his dick. Without being erect, he humps into my mouth.

Like this, he got hard quickly. It swelled in my mouth, doubling and tripling in size as he fucked my face. 

There it is. The exhale. 

“Suck it, beta,” Brody groans and lets go of my hair. 

10 years ago, he was the first dick I sucked. No other dicks I've sucked have compared, but it's still 10 years of experience. I use every trick I've learned on him. 

“Oh…mmm… no hands!” He slaps my hand away as I try to stroke his base. 

“Ah!” I flinch as his hard cock hits my left eye. 

“You forgot?”

“GUhHh!” I gag as he jams his dick deep in my throat. 

“I ain't no homo!” Brody grunts, fucking my ability to respond away. “You're just a fucking hole, so open up!” 

“Guh! GUHH! GuHhh!” I sputter around his battering ram, my hands lifting to grab his thighs but stopping short of touching him. 

“That's right. Know your place, beta,” he hisses. I somehow manage to relax my throat during his rampage, and the stud pounds into it like he owns it. “Oh fuck… I'm going to fucking breed this mouth.” 

“Mmmm…” I salivate around his rod, licking what I can. His shaft engorges with each pump, until it fills up my mouth with delicious rock-hard meat. 

“Fu…MMm!” 

“PFFfFF!” I choke at my airway being blasted with cum. 

“Uh uh…” His arm on the back of my head warns me to make no wrong moves.

If anything, his dick goes further down my throat. 

“Oh….yes…” His strong forearms constricts around my skull, motivating me to relax my jaw and take his whole member in. “Oh….” 

“Ahhh…” I gasp as his hand pushes on my forehead and my airway is cleared. I take as many breaths as I can while trying to swallow down his thick cum. 

Brody pulls up his shorts and makes his way to the front door. I watch him pick up the pamphlet he gave me earlier and tear off the sticker on the last page. 

He opens the door, and slaps the “Vote for Brody” sticker on it. 

“Don't take this off,” Brody says without looking back at me. Leaving the door open, he jogs off into the night.

You wanna hear more of this?

As I lay on the couch, wearing only a tank top, I notice I can smell the cum that has been left in and around my stretched out hole. The smell fills me with joy wild desire.

Did that really just happen? Did I really just let some stranger, fuck me without even asking his name?
Why does this feel so empowering?

To fill you in on the last few weeks, after walking in on my best friends only fans shoot, I would say my brain broke, and I have now begun rebuilding who I see myself as.

Longing to be part of the hot gays, I started slowly by pushing my limits. With help from friends, I started dancing in clubs without a shirt. At first in the dark corners, and then gradually towards the light inner parts of the room.

I started working out. A few days here and there. As much as I could. Just to feel a little more proud of my body.
Then I started to wear more revealing and tighter shirts. Baseball hats. Shorter shorts.
I started seeing myself more as a sexual man, and less like a voyeuristic bystander.

And by god it’s been feeling good!

Today was another progress to making myself love me more: By deleting social media from my phone.
Goodby x, insta, etc. All the apps I use to see hot guys that I felt were better than me.

One I couldn’t delete. Sniffies.

We’ve all had that one app that we use for fun. Usually they are an endless barrage of profiles who are not interested. Or guys that look nothing like their pictures.

So today, I had my doubts. But I was needing a connection. I needed to be fucked!

After a few hours of checking in, I see the notification. Blank profile. “Hey, what’s up? Discreet here. 45.”
Followed by pics of a decent cock, with a large head, and an average torso pic. No face.
“ I love to eat ass.” He says. Followed by “how soon can you be ready?”

Honestly, I had my doubts. Usually guys like this flake. The discreet/no-face thing makes them feel like they can ghost with no consequences.

“Nice cock. Can I suck it? I can be ready in 20 mins. You wanna eat ass, or fuck too?” I respond.
He comes back, “FUCK! I’ll be there in 20 mins.”

So I go douche. If he flakes, at least I’m cleaned out.

All goes well, and I check the app.

Holy shit, he’s outside! He didn’t flake! Ok. Glad I cleaned out.

I tell him to come up to my apartment, and wait for him by behind the door.

He knocks, and I get to open the door. Fuck. He’s about 6’6”. Blonde, muscled Viking god looking fucker.
Face of an angel. Body clearly made for sin. That torso pic doesn’t do him justice!

I struggle to find words, as I have no idea as to why this LA 12 is at my door! He saw my pics right?
I stop myself mid thought. Fuck that, he did see my pics! He messaged me! I’m hot! Don’t go back to doubting yourself! Be a proud sexy bottom daddy!

I offer him water, which he accepts. When I return, I simply say, “where do you want me?”

“He removes his pants, and tells me to go to the bedroom. I do so, as I shed clothes faster than I knew I could. Thank god I didn’t put on underwear after the shower.

As I get to the room, he is there naked in front of me. All fucking shredded and hard as a rock.
I get on my knees and take his cock in my mouth. And at that point I realize, that the picture depicting his cock with large head, was now scaled to giant Scandinavian god proportions. The cock head barely gets in my mouth! How the hell is he going to fuck my hole? I am not ready for this ass fucking!

I slowly explore his giant cock with my lips. Mixed with moments where I indulge in my olfactophilia kink, and smell his balls, taint and massive cock. He had been at work all day, and his balls and taint smell sweaty and musky. Clean but manly. I love the smell of a sweaty set of balls.

He grabs my head, and lifts me up, and tells me to get on the bed. Ass up. Face down.
He goes to town in licking my hungry eager hole. His tongue glides around my ass crack like a hunter after its prey.
His tongue pushed further and further into my hole, as he holds my hips. Digging his fingernails into my flesh.

As I am in absolute bliss, I feel him stop. And that’s when I feel the massive cock head rub up against my wet hole.
Fuck, this is going to hurt!

And it does, at first. But I let him know to go slow. Which he does. And then he inserts again. But this time, my hole has eased. And is wanting him. My body needs this Viking of a man, and I need him to take me as his fucking bitch.

Slow at first, then faster, then harder. Each thrust gets stronger and more determined.
We change positions. Me ass up. Me on my back. Us on our sides.
Each position gets better. Each time he explores my body. Kisses my chest and back. Holds me like I am the sexiest man he has seen.

As we lay on our side, I can’t help by moan and keep saying, “fuck, your cock is so big!”
He keeps pumping me. And then he hold my cock as he thrusts his engorged fuck stick into my stretched out hole.
He brings me to the edge with just his touch on my cock.

He begins to moan, he yells out that he is cumming. It feels so good to have this god of a man, use me as his cum dump.

“Fuck me.” I moan, “fill me with your cum”.
He grabs my hair, and pulls me closer, as he thrust his cum into my man pussy. He pushes it in me as hard as he can.

After he cums, I lay on my side, exhausted. He goes to the bathroom and washes his massive cock, and says he has to get back home.

I try to make small talk but what do you say after you let a stranger fuck you to ecstasy?

As I see him out, I ask him if he wants to do it again. Not because I need validation or a relationship with him. But because I simply want to be fucked by that cock again. To feel like I am the sexiest man riding a Viking god.

As he leaves I decide to keep his cum in me as long as possible. To be as fucking dirty as I see the other gays be. After all, I’m a gay guy. I get to own it. And I get to feel hot about it. And I get to enjoy the feeling of being some hot guys cum filled whore, for today at least.