u/GWeymann01

This story is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend of mine, about a bromance at his work.

--

Matt and Josh had been inseparable since Josh joined the firm almost three years ago.

What started as typical banter quickly evolved into a full-blown bromance that everyone in the team noticed and everybody teased them about.

Matt and Josh always sat opposite each other in the open-plan sales floor, and they spent the working day trading increasingly dirty jabs, it was never subtle.

Monday mornings usually kicked off like this;

“Morning, princess,” Matt would say, dropping into his chair with a grin. “How was your Grindr date at the weekend? Did he at least make you walk funny?”

Josh would lean back, smirking. “You’re just jealous. At least I’m getting fucked regularly. When’s the last time you made a lass cum without her faking it?”

Matt would laugh loud, “Keep dreaming about my cock, you horny fuck. One day I might let you taste it just so you’ll shut up.”

Matt once “accidentally” sent Josh a shirtless gym selfie, bulge prominent, Josh replied instantly: “You little tease.”

Matt fired back: “You love it really. Bet I made your dick twitch, admit it, you think about my dick every time you jerk off.”

They’d been doing this dance for years, constant. It was always playful, sexually loaded teasing that never quite crossed the line in public. But the tension had been building, especially on Friday afternoons when they’d grab beers after work and the flirting went a step further.

So when the big works night out rolled around in Bristol, no one was surprised when just Matt and Josh were the last ones out that night.

They’d already had six pints at the pub, now they were in a packed nightclub near the harbour.

Josh leaned in, lips brushing Matt’s ear. “You’ve been staring at my ass all night, mate. Still pretending you’re not curious?”

Matt laughed, his hand resting casually on Josh’s lower back. “Fuck off. I’m just making sure you don’t get stolen by some twink. You’re my work wife, remember?” That made Josh blush.

“Work wife who wants to ride your cock,” Josh shot back with a wicked grin. “C’mon, straight lad. Three years of you teasing me about sucking you off. You ever gonna man up and let me?”

Matt’s grip tightened on Josh’s waist. “Keep talking like that and I might.”

They danced, laughed, drank more. The flirting that had always been “just banter” felt dangerously real tonight.

Eventually Matt slung an arm around Josh’s shoulders as they left the club and into the cold night air.

“Fancy crashing at mine again?” Matt asked.

“Thanks mate, saves a taxi. I can crash on the sofa like last time.” Josh smirked and continued. “But you sure you can keep your hands off me, big man?”

Matt pulled him closer. “Been resisting for three years, I think I can manage.”

Back at Matt’s tidy flat they kicked off their shoes, cracked open two cold beers, and collapsed on the sofa like they had a hundred times before and after nights out. The familiar ease of their bromance settled over them, but the vibe had shifted tonight.

“God, I’m horny as fuck,” Matt groaned, rubbing his face. “Haven’t had decent pussy in weeks. Last lass I fucked just lay there like a starfish. What am I doing wrong mate?”

Josh laughed, spreading his legs casually on the sofa. “That’s rough, you’re a good looking guy, you know that. I just open Grindr and I’ve got a willing hole in twenty minutes. You straight guys make life so complicated.”

Matt turned to look at him, his eyes lingering. “Sometimes I genuinely think it’d be easier if I was gay. At least then I could just fuck you and sort myself out. We already act like an old married couple anyway.”

Josh’s blushed again and let the alcohol talk. “What’s stopping you right now? We’ve been teasing each other for years. Every day you threaten to shut me up with your cock. So do it.”

Matt shifted, already visibly hard in his jeans. “You’ve got a dick, though. Too much cock for me, mate.”

Josh licked his lips slowly. “What about my pussy?”

Matt looked at Josh. “Your… what?”

“My tight little man pussy,” Josh whispered. “Smooth, greedy, and wet for you. Three years of me joking about how much better my hole is than any pussy. You really never wondered if I was telling the truth?”

Matt’s cock throbbed. “Mate, fuck… show me.”

Josh stood, stripped slowly, then bent over the sofa arm and spread his cheeks. His pink, hairless hole winked invitingly at Matt.

“See? My pretty pussy. Been waiting for your straight dick for years.”

Matt stood up, “Fuck, get on your knees first, suck me off. I’ve heard you brag about that mouth long enough.”

Josh dropped to his knees, yanking Matt’s jeans down. His thick cock sprang free and Josh moaned “Fuck yeah, you’re so big.” Before swallowing him to the hilt, throat bulging.

“Fuuuuck yes,” Matt groaned, gripping Josh’s hair. “That’s it, suck it like you’ve wanted to for three years, you dirty slut. Shit, your throat’s better than any lass.”

Josh gagged happily, drooling, eyes watering as Matt fucked his face. He pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Use me, Matt. You’ve teased me for years, I need you to wreck me, wreck my hole.”

Matt grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him towards his bedroom. Josh got on all fours, back arched, presenting his hole. Matt spat on Josh’s hole, and rubbed his leaking cockhead against the tight ring, then pushed in deep.

“Oh my fucking God,” Matt moaned loudly as the velvety heat gripped him. “It’s so tight… so much tighter than pussy. Holy shit, Josh, your hole is fucking perfect.”

Matt started thrusting hard, grabbing Josh’s hips, thrusting balls deep with every stroke.

“I have a confession, I have been dreaming about this hole for years,” Matt moaned, pounding relentlessly. “All those times you teased me… you were right tho, this tight pussy is better than any lass. You’re milking my cock so fucking good.”

“Harder,” Josh begged, pushing back. “Breed your work wife, fill me up.”

Matt gripped Josh’s hips bruisingly and fucked him like an animal, moaning with every thrust. “Gonna cum so deep in this pussy… gonna breed you, I’ve got a big load.”

“Fuck yes, breed me Matt” Josh moaned, stroking his hard dick.

With a loud moan Matt reached orgasm, rope after rope of warm thick cum flooding Josh’s hole. Matt kept grinding through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper.

“Fuck… take my load… such a good mate…”

When Matt finally pulled out, cum leaked from Josh’s wrecked, twitching hole. They collapsed together, sweaty and spent. Matt pulled Josh tight against his chest, one hand possessively cupping his cum-filled ass.

“Three years of teasing,” Matt murmured sleepily, kissing Josh’s neck. “But it was worth the wait.”

Josh smiled, “Told you my hole was better.”

They fell asleep tangled together, the long-established bromance finally consummated.

This story is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend of mine, about a bromance at his work.

--

Matt and Josh had been inseparable since Josh joined the firm almost three years ago.

What started as typical banter quickly evolved into a full-blown bromance that everyone in the team noticed and everybody teased them about.

Matt and Josh always sat opposite each other in the open-plan sales floor, and they spent the working day trading increasingly dirty jabs, it was never subtle.

Monday mornings usually kicked off like this;

“Morning, princess,” Matt would say, dropping into his chair with a grin. “How was your Grindr date at the weekend? Did he at least make you walk funny?”

Josh would lean back, smirking. “You’re just jealous. At least I’m getting fucked regularly. When’s the last time you made a girl cum without her faking it?”

Matt would laugh loud, “Keep dreaming about my cock, you horny fuck. One day I might let you taste it just so you’ll shut up.”

Matt once “accidentally” sent Josh a shirtless gym selfie, bulge prominent, Josh replied instantly: “You little tease.”

Matt fired back: “You love it really. Bet I made your dick twitch, admit it, you think about my dick every time you jerk off.”

They’d been doing this dance for years, constant. It was always playful, sexually loaded teasing that never quite crossed the line in public. But the tension had been building, especially on Friday afternoons when they’d grab beers after work and the flirting went a step further.

So when the big works night out rolled around in Bristol, no one was surprised when just Matt and Josh were the last ones out that night.

They’d already had six pints at the pub, now they were in a packed nightclub near the harbour.

Josh leaned in, lips brushing Matt’s ear. “You’ve been staring at my ass all night, mate. Still pretending you’re not curious?”

Matt laughed, his hand resting casually on Josh’s lower back. “Fuck off. I’m just making sure you don’t get stolen by some twink. You’re my work wife, remember?” That made Josh blush.

“Work wife who wants to ride your cock,” Josh shot back with a wicked grin. “C’mon, straight boy. Three years of you teasing me about sucking you off. You ever gonna man up and let me?”

Matt’s grip tightened on Josh’s waist. “Keep talking like that and I might.”

They danced, laughed, drank more. The flirting that had always been “just banter” felt dangerously real tonight.

Eventually Matt slung an arm around Josh’s shoulders as they left the club and into the cold night air.

“Fancy crashing at mine again?” Matt asked.

“Thanks mate, saves a taxi. I can crash on the sofa like last time.” Josh smirked and continued. “But you sure you can keep your hands off me, big man?”

Matt pulled him closer. “Been resisting for three years, I think I can manage.”

Back at Matt’s tidy flat they kicked off their shoes, cracked open two cold beers, and collapsed on the sofa like they had a hundred times before and after nights out. The familiar ease of their bromance settled over them, but the vibe had shifted tonight.

“God, I’m horny as fuck,” Matt groaned, rubbing his face. “Haven’t had decent pussy in weeks. Last girl I fucked just lay there like a starfish. What am I doing wrong mate?”

Josh laughed, spreading his legs casually on the sofa. “That’s rough, you’re a good looking guy, you know that. I just open Grindr and I’ve got a willing hole in twenty minutes. You straight boys make life so complicated.”

Matt turned to look at him, his eyes lingering. “Sometimes I genuinely think it’d be easier if I was gay. At least then I could just fuck you and sort myself out. We already act like an old married couple anyway.”

Josh’s blushed again and let the alcohol talk. “What’s stopping you right now? We’ve been teasing each other for years. Every day you threaten to shut me up with your cock. So do it.”

Matt shifted, already visibly hard in his jeans. “You’ve got a dick, though. Too much cock for me, mate.”

Josh licked his lips slowly. “What about my boypussy?”

Matt looked at Josh. “Your… what?”

“My tight little boypussy,” Josh whispered. “Smooth, greedy, and wet for you. Three years of me joking about how much better my hole is than any girl’s pussy. You really never wondered if I was telling the truth?”

Matt’s cock throbbed. “Mate, fuck… show me.”

Josh stood, stripped slowly, then bent over the sofa arm and spread his cheeks. His pink, hairless hole winked invitingly at Matt.

“See? My pretty boypussy. Been waiting for your straight dick for years.”

Matt stood up, “Fuck, get on your knees first, suck me off. I’ve heard you brag about that mouth long enough.”

Josh dropped to his knees, yanking Matt’s jeans down. His thick cock sprang free and Josh moaned “Fuck yeah, you’re so big.” Before swallowing him to the hilt, throat bulging.

“Fuuuuck yes,” Matt groaned, gripping Josh’s hair. “That’s it, suck it like you’ve wanted to for three years, you dirty slut. Shit, your throat’s better than any girl’s.”

Josh gagged happily, drooling, eyes watering as Matt fucked his face. He pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Use me, Matt. You’ve teased me for years, I need you to wreck me, wreck my hole.”

Matt grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him towards his bedroom. Josh got on all fours, back arched, presenting his hole. Matt spat on Josh’s hole, and rubbed his leaking cockhead against the tight ring, then pushed in deep.

“Oh my fucking God,” Matt moaned loudly as the velvety heat gripped him. “It’s so tight… so much tighter than pussy. Holy shit, Josh, your boycunt is fucking perfect.”

Matt started thrusting hard, grabbing Josh’s hips, thrusting balls deep with every stroke.

“I have a confession, I have been dreaming about this hole for years,” Matt moaned, pounding relentlessly. “All those times you teased me… you were right tho, this tight pussy is better than any girl. You’re milking my cock so fucking good.”

“Harder,” Josh begged, pushing back. “Breed your work wife, fill me up.”

Matt gripped Josh’s hips bruisingly and fucked him like an animal, moaning with every thrust. “Gonna cum so deep in this boypussy… gonna breed you, I’ve got a big load.”

“Fuck yes, breed me Matt” Josh moaned, stroking his hard dick.

With a loud moan Matt reached orgasm, rope after rope of warm thick cum flooding Josh’s hole. Matt kept grinding through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper.

“Fuck… take my load… such a good mate…”

When Matt finally pulled out, cum leaked from Josh’s wrecked, twitching hole. They collapsed together, sweaty and spent. Matt pulled Josh tight against his chest, one hand possessively cupping his cum-filled ass.

“Three years of teasing,” Matt murmured sleepily, kissing Josh’s neck. “But it was worth the wait.”

Josh smiled, “Told you my boypussy was better.”

They fell asleep tangled together, the long-established bromance finally consummated.

--

Follow the link in my bio to read more like this.

This story is inspired by a conversation I had with a friend of mine, about a bromance at his work.

--

Matt and Josh had been inseparable since Josh joined the firm almost three years ago.

What started as typical banter quickly evolved into a full-blown bromance that everyone in the team noticed and everybody teased them about.

Matt and Josh always sat opposite each other in the open-plan sales floor, and they spent the working day trading increasingly dirty jabs, it was never subtle.

Monday mornings usually kicked off like this;

“Morning, princess,” Matt would say, dropping into his chair with a grin. “How was your Grindr date at the weekend? Did he at least make you walk funny?”

Josh would lean back, smirking. “You’re just jealous. At least I’m getting fucked regularly. When’s the last time you made a girl cum without her faking it?”

Matt would laugh loud, “Keep dreaming about my cock, you horny fuck. One day I might let you taste it just so you’ll shut up.”

Matt once “accidentally” sent Josh a shirtless gym selfie, bulge prominent, Josh replied instantly: “You little tease.”

Matt fired back: “You love it really. Bet I made your dick twitch, admit it, you think about my dick every time you jerk off.”

They’d been doing this dance for years, constant. It was always playful, sexually loaded teasing that never quite crossed the line in public. But the tension had been building, especially on Friday afternoons when they’d grab beers after work and the flirting went a step further.

So when the big works night out rolled around in Bristol, no one was surprised when just Matt and Josh were the last ones out that night.

They’d already had six pints at the pub, now they were in a packed nightclub near the harbour.

Josh leaned in, lips brushing Matt’s ear. “You’ve been staring at my ass all night, mate. Still pretending you’re not curious?”

Matt laughed, his hand resting casually on Josh’s lower back. “Fuck off. I’m just making sure you don’t get stolen by some twink. You’re my work wife, remember?” That made Josh blush.

“Work wife who wants to ride your cock,” Josh shot back with a wicked grin. “C’mon, straight boy. Three years of you teasing me about sucking you off. You ever gonna man up and let me?”

Matt’s grip tightened on Josh’s waist. “Keep talking like that and I might.”

They danced, laughed, drank more. The flirting that had always been “just banter” felt dangerously real tonight.

Eventually Matt slung an arm around Josh’s shoulders as they left the club and into the cold night air.

“Fancy crashing at mine again?” Matt asked.

“Thanks mate, saves a taxi. I can crash on the sofa like last time.” Josh smirked and continued. “But you sure you can keep your hands off me, big man?”

Matt pulled him closer. “Been resisting for three years, I think I can manage.”

Back at Matt’s tidy flat they kicked off their shoes, cracked open two cold beers, and collapsed on the sofa like they had a hundred times before and after nights out. The familiar ease of their bromance settled over them, but the vibe had shifted tonight.

“God, I’m horny as fuck,” Matt groaned, rubbing his face. “Haven’t had decent pussy in weeks. Last girl I fucked just lay there like a starfish. What am I doing wrong mate?”

Josh laughed, spreading his legs casually on the sofa. “That’s rough, you’re a good looking guy, you know that. I just open Grindr and I’ve got a willing hole in twenty minutes. You straight boys make life so complicated.”

Matt turned to look at him, his eyes lingering. “Sometimes I genuinely think it’d be easier if I was gay. At least then I could just fuck you and sort myself out. We already act like an old married couple anyway.”

Josh’s blushed again and let the alcohol talk. “What’s stopping you right now? We’ve been teasing each other for years. Every day you threaten to shut me up with your cock. So do it.”

Matt shifted, already visibly hard in his jeans. “You’ve got a dick, though. Too much cock for me, mate.”

Josh licked his lips slowly. “What about my boypussy?”

Matt looked at Josh. “Your… what?”

“My tight little boypussy,” Josh whispered. “Smooth, greedy, and wet for you. Three years of me joking about how much better my hole is than any girl’s pussy. You really never wondered if I was telling the truth?”

Matt’s cock throbbed. “Mate, fuck… show me.”

Josh stood, stripped slowly, then bent over the sofa arm and spread his cheeks. His pink, hairless hole winked invitingly at Matt.

“See? My pretty boypussy. Been waiting for your straight dick for years.”

Matt stood up, “Fuck, get on your knees first, suck me off. I’ve heard you brag about that mouth long enough.”

Josh dropped to his knees, yanking Matt’s jeans down. His thick cock sprang free and Josh moaned “Fuck yeah, you’re so big.” Before swallowing him to the hilt, throat bulging.

“Fuuuuck yes,” Matt groaned, gripping Josh’s hair. “That’s it, suck it like you’ve wanted to for three years, you dirty slut. Shit, your throat’s better than any girl’s.”

Josh gagged happily, drooling, eyes watering as Matt fucked his face. He pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Use me, Matt. You’ve teased me for years, I need you to wreck me, wreck my hole.”

Matt grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him towards his bedroom. Josh got on all fours, back arched, presenting his hole. Matt spat on Josh’s hole, and rubbed his leaking cockhead against the tight ring, then pushed in deep.

“Oh my fucking God,” Matt moaned loudly as the velvety heat gripped him. “It’s so tight… so much tighter than pussy. Holy shit, Josh, your boycunt is fucking perfect.”

Matt started thrusting hard, grabbing Josh’s hips, thrusting balls deep with every stroke.

“I have a confession, I have been dreaming about this hole for years,” Matt moaned, pounding relentlessly. “All those times you teased me… you were right tho, this tight pussy is better than any girl. You’re milking my cock so fucking good.”

“Harder,” Josh begged, pushing back. “Breed your work wife, fill me up.”

Matt gripped Josh’s hips bruisingly and fucked him like an animal, moaning with every thrust. “Gonna cum so deep in this boypussy… gonna breed you, I’ve got a big load.”

“Fuck yes, breed me Matt” Josh moaned, stroking his hard dick.

With a loud moan Matt reached orgasm, rope after rope of warm thick cum flooding Josh’s hole. Matt kept grinding through his orgasm, pushing every drop deeper.

“Fuck… take my load… such a good mate…”

When Matt finally pulled out, cum leaked from Josh’s wrecked, twitching hole. They collapsed together, sweaty and spent. Matt pulled Josh tight against his chest, one hand possessively cupping his cum-filled ass.

“Three years of teasing,” Matt murmured sleepily, kissing Josh’s neck. “But it was worth the wait.”

Josh smiled, “Told you my boypussy was better.”

They fell asleep tangled together, the long-established bromance finally consummated.

--

Follow the link in my bio to read more like this.

Read Part 5 here

--

Arvia cut through open water on her first full sea day, heading towards Fort-De-France, the horizon a perfect line of blue under a cloudless sky. Eric woke to the gentle roll of the ship and the soft light filtering through his balcony doors. He stretched, morning wood already stirring, but he let it fade as he dressed in gym gear, shorts, tank, trainers and headed out. Henry had called earlier, “Breakfast in The Quays at 8:30 again?” Eric agreed and met him in the corridor, both still sleepy-eyed but smiling.

They loaded trays with the usual, scrambled eggs, fruit, coffee and ate at their window table, watching the ocean pass them by. Henry mentioned the daily programme. “I’m doing the line-dancing class at 10 in the SkyDome. You in?” Eric laughed, shaking his head. “Not my thing. I’ll hit the gym instead. Catch you after?” Henry grinned. “Deal, save me a lounger if you’re out by the pool later.”

After breakfast they split. Henry headed to the SkyDome, where Georgia a cheerful instructor was getting ready to call out the steps to a growing group of passengers in trainers and bright tops. Eric made his way to the gym on Deck 5, state-of-the-art, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sea, rows of treadmills, free weights, and resistance machines. It was busy but not packed; sea days always brought out the fitness crowd.

He started with a run on the treadmill, then moved to the weights area. That’s when he noticed the guy across from him, Matt. Matt was 27 as it turned out, compact and ripped, dark hair, tanned skin, wearing compression shorts and a sleeveless tee that showed off his defined arms and a deep V-cut leading down. Matt was doing dumbbell curls, catching Eric’s eye in the mirror with a small, knowing smile. After a set, he walked over, wiping his face with a towel.

“Morning, you’re killing those deadlifts,” Matt said, his accent faintly northern English. “Mind if I work in on the rack after you?” Eric nodded, wiping down the bar. “Go for it, I’m Eric.” “I’m Matt, first time on Arvia?”

They chatted between sets, Matt was 27, from Leeds, here with his parents and younger sister for a family holiday. “They’re doing a spa day today, so I’ve got the gym to myself. You travelling solo?” Eric gave the short version: “With a mate, but we’re doing our own thing today.” Matt’s eyes lingered a second too long. “Lucky mate.” The flirting was light but unmistakable, brushed arms spotting each other, compliments on form, a shared laugh over the ship’s cheesy gym playlist. Eric felt the familiar spark but kept it casual; he wasn’t looking to disappear for hours on day two.

Henry finished line dancing sweaty and laughing, the class ending with applause and a playlist of country-pop hits. He sent Eric a WhatsApp: Done! Where are you? Eric replied: Gym, just finishing. Meet at Quays for lunch? They reconvened around noon, both ravenous after their mornings.

The Quays had changed from breakfast service to lunch / dinner service. There was a pizza / burger counter, curry station, salad bar, grill. They grabbed burgers and fries, found a table outside on the deck, and ate with the sea breeze against their skin.

After lunch they decided on a walk, laps around the promenade deck, four times for a mile, the track wide and mostly empty mid-afternoon. They strolled side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing, talking about their mornings, the line-dancing instructor’s enthusiasm, Eric and Matt’s accidental flirting at the gym (“He was cute, but I told him I was with someone, sort of”), how the ship felt bigger now that it was at sea. The sun was high and hot; after a few laps they nipped back to their rooms, stripped to swim trunks, then claimed two loungers on the upper deck. They slathered on sun cream, Henry rubbed some onto Eric’s back, fingers lingering, thumbs pressing into muscle. Eric returned the favour, hands sliding over Henry’s broad shoulders, down the dip of his spine. The touch was casual but charged.

After an hour of sun, Henry shifted closer, “I’m getting a bit worked up lying here next to you.” Eric glanced over, seeing the obvious tent in Henry’s trunks. “Oh, yeah? Wanna head back to the cabin?” Henry’s grin was slow. “My cabin if you want?”

They gathered towels and headed back to Deck 9. Inside Henry’s cabin, the air was cool with curtains half-drawn. Henry shut the door and pulled Eric in for a slow kiss, lips brushing, tongues meeting lazily, hands roaming each other’s chests. They peeled their shorts off, dropping them on the floor, until they were naked and hard. Henry backed Eric toward the bed, laying him down gently, then climbed over him, mouths never breaking contact.

The made-out stretched, deep, unhurried kisses, teeth grazing lips, hands tracing ribs and hips. Henry slid lower, kissing down Eric’s chest, nipples hardening under his tongue, then took Eric’s cock in his mouth. Slow at first, long licks along the shaft, swirling around the head, then deeper, throat relaxing to take him fully, smelling his sweaty musk from the gym. Eric groaned, fingers in Henry’s hair, hips lifting gently. After several minutes Henry pulled off, breathless. “Your turn.”

Eric flipped them, settling between Henry’s thighs. He licked a stripe up the underside of Henry’s longer, thicker length, lips stretching, tongue working the shaft. Henry’s hands fisted the sheets, hips rocking shallowly. “Fuck, Eric…” Eric bobbed faster, then pulled off, nudging Henry’s legs wider. He spread Henry’s cheeks and buried his face, tongue circling the tight ring, pressing in slow, wet strokes. Henry moaned, back arching, one hand reaching down to stroke himself while Eric rimmed him thoroughly, flat laps, pointed flicks, pushing inside until Henry was trembling.

Henry stroked himself faster, breathing increasing. “I’m close, I’m gonna cum.” Eric pulled back to watch, hand on his own cock, jerking in time over Henry. Henry came first, thick ropes shooting across his defined chest, stomach clenching, “uggghh”. The sight pushed Eric over; he straddled Henry’s hips, aimed down, and shot over him, cum splashing on Henry’s chest, they both finished with a shudder, their cum mixing on Henry’s chest.

They collapsed together, breathing hard. Henry laughed softly. “Messy, but worth it.” Eric grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiped them both down, then kissed Henry. “I’m gonna head back to my cabin, get ready for the meetup.”

The door closed behind Eric, Henry lay back, letting the quiet settle over what they’d just shared.

--

Follow the link in my bio to read more

Read Part 5 here

--

Arvia cut through open water on her first full sea day, heading towards Fort-De-France, the horizon a perfect line of blue under a cloudless sky. Eric woke to the gentle roll of the ship and the soft light filtering through his balcony doors. He stretched, morning wood already stirring, but he let it fade as he dressed in gym gear, shorts, tank, trainers and headed out. Henry had called earlier, “Breakfast in The Quays at 8:30 again?” Eric agreed and met him in the corridor, both still sleepy-eyed but smiling.

They loaded trays with the usual, scrambled eggs, fruit, coffee and ate at their window table, watching the ocean pass them by. Henry mentioned the daily programme. “I’m doing the line-dancing class at 10 in the SkyDome. You in?” Eric laughed, shaking his head. “Not my thing. I’ll hit the gym instead. Catch you after?” Henry grinned. “Deal, save me a lounger if you’re out by the pool later.”

After breakfast they split. Henry headed to the SkyDome, where Georgia a cheerful instructor was getting ready to call out the steps to a growing group of passengers in trainers and bright tops. Eric made his way to the gym on Deck 5, state-of-the-art, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the sea, rows of treadmills, free weights, and resistance machines. It was busy but not packed; sea days always brought out the fitness crowd.

He started with a run on the treadmill, then moved to the weights area. That’s when he noticed the guy across from him, Matt. Matt was 27 as it turned out, compact and ripped, dark hair, tanned skin, wearing compression shorts and a sleeveless tee that showed off his defined arms and a deep V-cut leading down. Matt was doing dumbbell curls, catching Eric’s eye in the mirror with a small, knowing smile. After a set, he walked over, wiping his face with a towel.

“Morning, you’re killing those deadlifts,” Matt said, his accent faintly northern English. “Mind if I work in on the rack after you?” Eric nodded, wiping down the bar. “Go for it, I’m Eric.” “I’m Matt, first time on Arvia?”

They chatted between sets, Matt was 27, from Leeds, here with his parents and younger sister for a family holiday. “They’re doing a spa day today, so I’ve got the gym to myself. You travelling solo?” Eric gave the short version: “With a mate, but we’re doing our own thing today.” Matt’s eyes lingered a second too long. “Lucky mate.” The flirting was light but unmistakable, brushed arms spotting each other, compliments on form, a shared laugh over the ship’s cheesy gym playlist. Eric felt the familiar spark but kept it casual; he wasn’t looking to disappear for hours on day two.

Henry finished line dancing sweaty and laughing, the class ending with applause and a playlist of country-pop hits. He sent Eric a WhatsApp: Done! Where are you? Eric replied: Gym, just finishing. Meet at Quays for lunch? They reconvened around noon, both ravenous after their mornings.

The Quays had changed from breakfast service to lunch / dinner service. There was a pizza / burger counter, curry station, salad bar, grill. They grabbed burgers and fries, found a table outside on the deck, and ate with the sea breeze against their skin.

After lunch they decided on a walk, laps around the promenade deck, four times for a mile, the track wide and mostly empty mid-afternoon. They strolled side by side, shoulders occasionally brushing, talking about their mornings, the line-dancing instructor’s enthusiasm, Eric and Matt’s accidental flirting at the gym (“He was cute, but I told him I was with someone, sort of”), how the ship felt bigger now that it was at sea. The sun was high and hot; after a few laps they nipped back to their rooms, stripped to swim trunks, then claimed two loungers on the upper deck. They slathered on sun cream, Henry rubbed some onto Eric’s back, fingers lingering, thumbs pressing into muscle. Eric returned the favour, hands sliding over Henry’s broad shoulders, down the dip of his spine. The touch was casual but charged.

After an hour of sun, Henry shifted closer, “I’m getting a bit worked up lying here next to you.” Eric glanced over, seeing the obvious tent in Henry’s trunks. “Oh, yeah? Wanna head back to the cabin?” Henry’s grin was slow. “My cabin if you want?”

They gathered towels and headed back to Deck 9. Inside Henry’s cabin, the air was cool with curtains half-drawn. Henry shut the door and pulled Eric in for a slow kiss, lips brushing, tongues meeting lazily, hands roaming each other’s chests. They peeled their shorts off, dropping them on the floor, until they were naked and hard. Henry backed Eric toward the bed, laying him down gently, then climbed over him, mouths never breaking contact.

The made-out stretched, deep, unhurried kisses, teeth grazing lips, hands tracing ribs and hips. Henry slid lower, kissing down Eric’s chest, nipples hardening under his tongue, then took Eric’s cock in his mouth. Slow at first, long licks along the shaft, swirling around the head, then deeper, throat relaxing to take him fully, smelling his sweaty musk from the gym. Eric groaned, fingers in Henry’s hair, hips lifting gently. After several minutes Henry pulled off, breathless. “Your turn.”

Eric flipped them, settling between Henry’s thighs. He licked a stripe up the underside of Henry’s longer, thicker length, lips stretching, tongue working the shaft. Henry’s hands fisted the sheets, hips rocking shallowly. “Fuck, Eric…” Eric bobbed faster, then pulled off, nudging Henry’s legs wider. He spread Henry’s cheeks and buried his face, tongue circling the tight ring, pressing in slow, wet strokes. Henry moaned, back arching, one hand reaching down to stroke himself while Eric rimmed him thoroughly, flat laps, pointed flicks, pushing inside until Henry was trembling.

Henry stroked himself faster, breathing increasing. “I’m close, I’m gonna cum.” Eric pulled back to watch, hand on his own cock, jerking in time over Henry. Henry came first, thick ropes shooting across his defined chest, stomach clenching, “uggghh”. The sight pushed Eric over; he straddled Henry’s hips, aimed down, and shot over him, cum splashing on Henry’s chest, they both finished with a shudder, their cum mixing on Henry’s chest.

They collapsed together, breathing hard. Henry laughed softly. “Messy, but worth it.” Eric grabbed a towel from the bathroom, wiped them both down, then kissed Henry. “I’m gonna head back to my cabin, get ready for the meetup.”

The door closed behind Eric, Henry lay back, letting the quiet settle over what they’d just shared.

Read Part 23 here

--

Chris’s POV:

I’m a fucking wreck.

Five days locked and my balls are so swollen they feel like they’re going to split open. The cage is a tough master, every bar digs into swollen flesh, my cock head is purple and angry, a constant ribbon of precum dripping from the slit like I’m leaking my soul.

Last night Alex destroyed me, he waited until I got into bed, climbed onto his desk chair facing my bed, spread his legs wide, and jerked off slow and loud while staring straight at me.
“Watch closely, big man,” he taunted, voice dripping. “This is what freedom feels like.”
He cum across my chest and laughed when I whimpered. I lay with his cum on me all night, cage soaked, hips twitching uselessly against the mattress.

I’m back in the basement, and unsure of what I have to face.

I’m already on my knees when they arrive, naked, a puddle forming beneath me from the endless drip. My thighs shake so hard I have to lock my knees to stay upright.

Ethan steps in first, Brandon follows, silent and intense. Alex last, smirking like the devil who owns my suffering.

Ethan holds up the a harness, black leather, silver rings, a brutal seven-inch curved silicone cock already gleaming with lube.

“Tonight,” he announces, voice ringing off the walls, “Dylan fucks Chris with this strap-on, and we’re all going to enjoy the show.”

A low growl of approval ripples through the lads.

Dylan strips fast, cage swinging heavy between his legs. He buckles the harness with deliberate slowness, leather creaking as it bites into his hips. The strap-on juts out proud, thick, obscene. He gives it one slow stroke like it’s real and meets my eyes.

“Hands and knees, Chris.”

I drop instantly, ass high, cage dangling helpless. The room spins.

Dylan kneels behind me. Warm lube drips down my crack in a slow, deliberate river. His palms spread my cheeks wide, thumbs framing my hole for everyone to see. I hear Brandon’s sharp inhale, Alex’s low whistle.

“Fuck, look at him,” Alex murmurs, already stroking himself. “Five days denied and he’s taking cock.”

Dylan’s finger circles my rim once, twice, then pushes in without warning. I choke on a moan. He’s slow, merciless, adding a second finger, my cage slaps wetly against my thigh, leaking harder.

Ethan steps closer, curved cock in hand, voice rough. “Add a third finger, D, stretch him wide. I want to hear him beg.”

Dylan obeys. Three thick fingers now, fingering me, opening me up while the room watches.

Brandon’s fist moves faster on his own cock, eyes locked on where Dylan’s fingers disappear into me again and again. Alex is openly moaning.

When Dylan finally lines the silicone cock up, the blunt head pressing hot against my hole, I’m already sobbing for it.

“Breathe,” he whispers, then pushes.

Slow, relentless and unforgiving.

The stretch is insane. I feel every vein on the toy as it forces me open, inch after thick inch, until his hips slam flush against my ass and I’m stuffed so full. The base of the harness grinds hard against Dylan’s cage and he groans, deep and wrecked.

Then he starts to fuck me, “fuckk this feels so odd” Dylan cried

Long, punishing strokes that drag over my prostate on every thrust. The wet slap of his hips against my ass fills the basement, mixing with my broken moans and the slick sounds of three fists pumping in perfect rhythm.

“Harder,” Ethan commands, “Make him feel it.”

Dylan grips my hips and slams in, again and again. Each thrust shoves the harness base against his trapped cock, rubbing the steel into his swollen shaft. His breathing turns feral behind me.

“Look at Chris taking it,” Brandon growls, stepping closer, cock dripping. “Look how fucking desperate he is.”

Alex is right beside my face now, jerking fast. “Open your mouth, big man. Show us how grateful you are.”

I obey instantly, tongue out, drooling, eyes rolling back as Dylan pounds me into oblivion.

The pressure in Dylan’s thrusts changes, he’s losing control. I feel it in the way his hips stutter, hear it in the choked gasp he can’t hold back.

“Fuck, fuck, it’s coming,”

He rips the harness open with frantic fingers, yanks the strap-on free, and spins me by the shoulder so fast I nearly fall.

“Mouth open, now.”

I’m already there, lips parted, tongue out, starving.

He shoves the cage against my mouth just as his orgasm explodes. Thin, desperate ropes blast through the bars, flooding my tongue, painting my lips, dripping down my chin in hot pulses. I swallow greedily, moaning like an animal, licking at the steel for every drop while he jerks and cries out my name.

The second he’s spent, the room detonates.

Ethan steps forward first, and unloads with a guttural roar, cumming across my cheek and Dylan’s shoulder.

Brandon follows, aiming deliberately, painting my forehead and hair in heavy ropes of cum.

Alex is last, grabbing my hair, tilting my head back “open” he cums with a broken moan, cumming into my mouth.

I stay on my knees, glazed, trembling, cage dripping harder than ever, cum sliding down my throat and chest.

Dylan collapses beside me, both of us wrecked and shaking. He reaches out, fingers brushing my cheek through the mess, and gives me the smallest, softest smile.

Ethan’s voice cuts through the haze, low and proud.

“Beautiful work, boys. Two more days, Chris. Then maybe you’ll remember how good submission feels.”

I lick my lips, and for the first time in five days the ache feels almost sweet.

--

Follow the link in my bio to read more

Read Part 23 here

--

Chris’s POV:

I’m a fucking wreck.

Five days locked and my balls are so swollen they feel like they’re going to split open. The cage is a tough master, every bar digs into swollen flesh, my cock head is purple and angry, a constant ribbon of precum dripping from the slit like I’m leaking my soul.

Last night Alex destroyed me, he waited until I got into bed, climbed onto his desk chair facing my bed, spread his legs wide, and jerked off slow and loud while staring straight at me.
“Watch closely, big man,” he taunted, voice dripping. “This is what freedom feels like.”
He cum across my chest and laughed when I whimpered. I lay with his cum on me all night, cage soaked, hips twitching uselessly against the mattress.

I’m back in the basement, and unsure of what I have to face.

I’m already on my knees when they arrive, naked, a puddle forming beneath me from the endless drip. My thighs shake so hard I have to lock my knees to stay upright.

Ethan steps in first, Brandon follows, silent and intense. Alex last, smirking like the devil who owns my suffering.

Ethan holds up the a harness, black leather, silver rings, a brutal seven-inch curved silicone cock already gleaming with lube.

“Tonight,” he announces, voice ringing off the walls, “Dylan fucks Chris with this strap-on, and we’re all going to enjoy the show.”

A low growl of approval ripples through the lads.

Dylan strips fast, cage swinging heavy between his legs. He buckles the harness with deliberate slowness, leather creaking as it bites into his hips. The strap-on juts out proud, thick, obscene. He gives it one slow stroke like it’s real and meets my eyes.

“Hands and knees, Chris.”

I drop instantly, ass high, cage dangling helpless. The room spins.

Dylan kneels behind me. Warm lube drips down my crack in a slow, deliberate river. His palms spread my cheeks wide, thumbs framing my hole for everyone to see. I hear Brandon’s sharp inhale, Alex’s low whistle.

“Fuck, look at him,” Alex murmurs, already stroking himself. “Five days denied and he’s taking cock.”

Dylan’s finger circles my rim once, twice, then pushes in without warning. I choke on a moan. He’s slow, merciless, adding a second finger, my cage slaps wetly against my thigh, leaking harder.

Ethan steps closer, curved cock in hand, voice rough. “Add a third finger, D, stretch him wide. I want to hear him beg.”

Dylan obeys. Three thick fingers now, fingering me, opening me up while the room watches.

Brandon’s fist moves faster on his own cock, eyes locked on where Dylan’s fingers disappear into me again and again. Alex is openly moaning.

When Dylan finally lines the silicone cock up, the blunt head pressing hot against my hole, I’m already sobbing for it.

“Breathe,” he whispers, then pushes.

Slow, relentless and unforgiving.

The stretch is insane. I feel every vein on the toy as it forces me open, inch after thick inch, until his hips slam flush against my ass and I’m stuffed so full. The base of the harness grinds hard against Dylan’s cage and he groans, deep and wrecked.

Then he starts to fuck me, “fuckk this feels so odd” Dylan cried

Long, punishing strokes that drag over my prostate on every thrust. The wet slap of his hips against my ass fills the basement, mixing with my broken moans and the slick sounds of three fists pumping in perfect rhythm.

“Harder,” Ethan commands, “Make him feel it.”

Dylan grips my hips and slams in, again and again. Each thrust shoves the harness base against his trapped cock, rubbing the steel into his swollen shaft. His breathing turns feral behind me.

“Look at Chris taking it,” Brandon growls, stepping closer, cock dripping. “Look how fucking desperate he is.”

Alex is right beside my face now, jerking fast. “Open your mouth, big man. Show us how grateful you are.”

I obey instantly, tongue out, drooling, eyes rolling back as Dylan pounds me into oblivion.

The pressure in Dylan’s thrusts changes, he’s losing control. I feel it in the way his hips stutter, hear it in the choked gasp he can’t hold back.

“Fuck, fuck, it’s coming,”

He rips the harness open with frantic fingers, yanks the strap-on free, and spins me by the shoulder so fast I nearly fall.

“Mouth open, now.”

I’m already there, lips parted, tongue out, starving.

He shoves the cage against my mouth just as his orgasm explodes. Thin, desperate ropes blast through the bars, flooding my tongue, painting my lips, dripping down my chin in hot pulses. I swallow greedily, moaning like an animal, licking at the steel for every drop while he jerks and cries out my name.

The second he’s spent, the room detonates.

Ethan steps forward first, and unloads with a guttural roar, cumming across my cheek and Dylan’s shoulder.

Brandon follows, aiming deliberately, painting my forehead and hair in heavy ropes of cum.

Alex is last, grabbing my hair, tilting my head back “open” he cums with a broken moan, cumming into my mouth.

I stay on my knees, glazed, trembling, cage dripping harder than ever, cum sliding down my throat and chest.

Dylan collapses beside me, both of us wrecked and shaking. He reaches out, fingers brushing my cheek through the mess, and gives me the smallest, softest smile.

Ethan’s voice cuts through the haze, low and proud.

“Beautiful work, boys. Two more days, Chris. Then maybe you’ll remember how good submission feels.”

I lick my lips, and for the first time in five days the ache feels almost sweet.

--

Follow the link in my bio to read more