Part 1

The Spanish sun in Andalusia, the southern region of the country, had begun to heat up a part of Europe that saw its true spring start earlier than most of the rest of the continent. Granada had been Hugo’s home base his entire life and he wanted to keep it that way, even if he spent more nights across the globe than in his own bed these days.

The weather and environment was new to Everett; far different than the humidity and sprawling landscape of Florida or the cooler air and density of the Bay Area in Northern California. He’d managed to arrive in Spain for a tournament in Barcelona a few days earlier, playing it off to his management team as an opportunity to adjust to the time zone and food. His agency team had booked him some shitty room in Barcelona for the week, going even lower class than usual because of his request for an extended stay, but he’d bolted on a train the moment he touched down, riding over five hours to visit Hugo for two days.

The hills of Granada down below Hugo’s apartment balcony stretched out for miles, looking straight out of a medieval world smashed up against a modern city. The Alhambra, the mighty castle fortress on the hill across from them, was a reminder of the region’s long history; exchanging hands between kingdoms, religions, and countries for centuries. Everett found the city fascinating; a reflection of the vast world beyond the United States.

Hugo’s three bedroom flat was as luxurious, modern, and private as he’d described over FaceTime when he had invited his usual opponent to visit, but Hugo had undersold the magnificent view from above that the long balcony provided. It was the perfect place for coffee or wine, and Everett could imagine spending mornings and nights out here watching over Hugo’s domain.

Hugo joined the American on the balcony, barefoot and in his trunk style underwear. His lush medium dark blonde hair was parted in the middle, straying on both sides outward.  

“You’re sure no one can see us up here from down there?” Everett asked, sipping a coffee that Hugo had made him on the fanciest home coffee machine he’d ever seen.

“Of course they can.” Hugo leaned against the glass alongside him, his prominent bulge smushing against the glass below the rail. “But they simply don’t care as much here. It’s why I stay. It’s home and it’s more relaxed.”

“Can we go out at all, though?” Everett asked.

“Sí, claro.” Hugo spun around, giving whoever might be down below a beautiful view of his backside stretching under his white underwear. “I don’t think it’s that strange for two professionals to have drinks with the tournament this week. No one will question it. They don’t know you’re sleeping in my bed with my cock buried in your ass.”

Everett rolled his eyes and stepped back inside, shaking his head. 

What was he even doing here? What were they doing? He should’ve been focused on the tournament and his training. 

His father knew he was here and he seemed connected enough to reality to figure out why, offering only the suggestion to ‘keep it discreet’; more a request for his own political career than care for Everett’s tennis image.

Hugo appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Everett’s furry, hard abs. “I missed you.” He murmured, inhaling the back of his head. “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah, well I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here.” But Everett wrapped his hands around the strong, tan arms crossing his waist. “What are we doing?”

They both laughed and Hugo’s hands roamed lower, palming Everett’s soft, smaller penis through his shorts. Everett eventually pushed out of the hold, feeling himself melt under Hugo’s hold again. “Come on, let’s go out. I wanna see the city.” It wasn’t a date but he was here and he was fairly sure he wouldn’t be back again in the future…or at least that’s what he told himself.

Hugo pulled back with a reluctant groan. “Fine. Dress well in case anyone takes photos. Wear something branded from the guest closet. My partners will love it.” 

“Your partners?” He didn’t understand.

“The fashion houses.” Hugo responded as if it were obvious.

Everett simply rolled his eyes but made his way to the second bedroom. He found a henley tee with a small letter on the chest, dark chinos, a leather belt, and pure white shoes. He left his hair intentionally strewn about and threw on one of the two dozen watches that Hugo hadn’t even bothered to open. He googled the one he’d strapped on his wrist and found it retailed for $4,000.

“Wine bar first,” Hugo said, emerging from his bedroom looking like a movie star. He’d touched up his parted hair, which curled over itself from the usual headband across his scalp. “No touching. Keep it civil. Strong laughs, nothing flirty. Then we come back here and have some fun. Sound good?”

Everett adjusted himself in his pants with a dramatic sigh. “I know how this works, Delgado. I’ve been keeping it cool in public way fucking longer than since I met you.”

They left the flat a careful meter apart, walking down the steep, winding cobblestone streets like two casual professionals who’d run into each other on a holiday, instead of two gay men who’d been fucking across continents for a year. The city buzzed around them and the scent of fresh chorizo and saffron filled their nostrils. The clapping of a horse-drawn carriage carrying tourists rang out in the distance, echoing through the streets.

Hugo pointed out little details across buildings and streets without getting too close; his favorite hidden viewpoint, the tiny mosque converted into a museum, and some of his favorite coffee shops Their conversation stayed light, like friends, but every brush of shoulders as they navigated the narrow sidewalks sent nervous sparks through Everett’s unsteady hands.

The wine bar Hugo swore by was tucked into a narrow alley and the interior was all exposed brick walls draped with hanging ivy, wooden barrels repurposed as tables, and the rich scent of red wine and olives drifting through the dining room. They walked inside and Hugo greeted an older woman at the front with dueling kisses on each cheek before she walked them to a private high-top tucked away in the shadowed corner. The woman spoke to Hugo in hushed Spanish, trying not to draw too much attention to their famous guest, then brought over a bottle of Tempranillo that smelled immediately of leather and black fruits.

Hugo raised his glass, blue eyes locked on Everett’s over the rim. “To beating you once again this week.”

Everett clinked his glass. “To topping you both literally and figuratively this week.” His grin grew more confident, just as it had been every month since turning pro. “Hopefully many times.” They knew he wasn’t talking about their tennis match.

They talked about their careers first. It was safe territory and a topic that they knew their respective lanes in. Everett had put off going pro longer than his pedigree had called for and now he was suffering through the learning curve of his rookie year at 21 instead of 19 or 20. Hugo on the other hand was a seasoned professional who’d learned that you didn’t have to be the best to have the rockstar lifestyle. He was competitive and loved winning, but he loved fame and money more and he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

Hugo wanted to give Everett advice as long as it wasn’t enough to tip the scales against him. “Romania was good to me. A loss in the final got me up to 40th in the world.” He swirled his wine and tipped it back. “But I landed another brand deal after. I even cracked 4 million followers during the match.” 

His charm was a hit in Western Europe but even more so in the American market; a blue eyed, handsome Spaniard who played up the mystique perfectly in commercials and advertising.

They traded stories for nearly an hour, voices rising and falling with laughter. “Yeah my dad’s full of shit.” Everett explained. “He wouldn’t even be a centrist as a Dem, he’d be solidly in the middle of the party. But no future in that where I’m from, so he plays up the bit. Power over everything. He doesn’t say it that way, but it’s all my parents care about.”

The wine flowed with glass after glass of the rich Tempranillo until they were onto bottle two. They ate tapas and drank red wine for hours, until the clock finally cracked 11PM. But along the way the conversation did turn more serious.

Hugo again swished his glass around, just after they’d finally finished eating. “I’ve been thinking a lot since Rotterdam. You should move here. To Spain. Train with a coach full time as cover. We could see each other more often…” He trailed off, pronounced lips quirking into a half-smile. “And I wouldn’t have to fly to San Francisco and deal with the cold.”

Everett’s wine glass paused halfway to his mouth. He could picture it so clearly; waking up every morning in that hilltop flat with sunlight pouring across Hugo’s smooth chest, shared training sessions where they could push each other, lazy terrace dinners overlooking the Alhambra. His heart twitched at the thought alone.

But what was the point? Neither of them thought this was an actual relationship and Everett’s parents would go ballistic if he dared propose the idea. Everett set the glass down carefully, the rich wine suddenly tasting duller on his tongue.

“My dad would lose his absolute shit,” he said quietly, voice tight. “Moving to ‘liberal Europe’? He’d get roasted on every conservative podcast and talk show. ‘My son chose socialism and sangria over American values.’” He mocked his dad’s southern accent. “Nah. Not happening. I can’t do that to him. And why do you even want me here? For sex?”

Hugo’s jaw tightened. “What’s wrong with sex? Life doesn’t have to be so fucking romantic. We’re professional athletes. It’s stressful. We deserve to be able to fuck if we want to fuck. We can compete and train at the same time. You don’t need his permission anymore, you’re going to be a star. You could be top fifty by the end of the year if you enjoy life a little more. C'est la vie”

Everett’s laugh was short and bitter. “That’s fucking easy for you to say. You’re rolling in money and fame and can milk this for another decade. You want me to uproot everything to come over here because you like fucking, but we both know that as soon as I can beat you, you’ll want to move onto someone lesser.” Everett gritted his teeth, genuinely annoyed. “You like me as long as you’re winning.”

Hugo didn’t deny it and if anything his face lit up with respect that the younger man understood their dynamic. “That won’t be this week, Ev. So you might as well think about coming over here. Think about the fun we’d have. Maybe it’s six months, maybe a year, maybe more. Your brand would do well in Europe.”

Everett pushed his glass away, frustrated by the notion of a simpler life. “Hugo, I’m loyal. Stop. I can’t just blow up my dad’s career because I want better training and Spanish dick on demand.” He ran a hand over his short hair. “We fuck when we cross paths. Unless you’re trying to tell me you love me, then why should I throw shit away.”

“I don’t know what I want,” Hugo admitted after a long beat. “I like what we have. So why not have more of it? I know you’ll pass me some day and when it comes I’ll be at peace with it. We can have fun until then.”

Everett’s chest felt too tight. Half of him wanted to move here and take the leap for the fun, a quarter of him wanted to say no for all the reasons he’d actually said out loud, and a quarter of him hated Hugo. He hated their dynamic and how he knew Hugo didn’t respect his game. But he also knew there were some emotions buried deep below and that if their competitive roles were reversed, he’d have let Hugo win a match by now for his betterment. Hugo on the other hand clearly had no plan to throw Everett the bone he needed in his young career.

“We’ll see,” Everett said instead, forcing a fake, passive aggressive grin. “Now shut up and get us more wine before I get in my head about this.”

Hugo smiled to himself; because while he was serious about his idea, it was also the small virus he needed to plant in Everett’s mind ahead of a potential rematch in Barcelona. What he wanted was precisely for Everett to get in his own head.

They stayed another hour, the conversation swinging back to lighter, high-energy territory. By the time they paid and stepped back into the cooling evening air, they were wobbling back and forth, leaning on each other far closer than a few hours earlier. The second the door of the flat clicked shut behind them, the careful public act shattered.

Hugo spun Everett around, backing him hard against the door, and kissed him; hands already yanking at buttons and zippers. “Shower,” he growled against Everett’s mouth. “You stink. I want you clean when I fuck you.”

“Fuck you.” Everett moaned back, tasting blackberry on Hugo’s lips from the wine.

The bathroom was a giant, dark green marble-laden room with a wet room entry to the shower. It featured two rainfall shower heads side by side and a deep ledge of the same stone. Hugo reached in to flick the water on while the other tugged Everett’s shirt off. Steam rose fast throughout the room as they stripped each other between messy kisses and eventually stepped hand in hand under the water’s searing heat.

Hugo’s body was a smooth, Spanish work of art under the spray; smooth tanned chest glistening as water cascaded over it, and a burly happy trail darkening and plastering flat below his belly button, leading down to the groomed hair at his groin. His dick, almost seven inches (17cm) and uncut had its foreskin naturally pulling back as it filled up.

Everett’s lean and tan, masculine frame pressed flush against him, matching his height perfectly but with water matting down his hairier chest; soft hair across his sternum and stomach. He was an inverse model of the Spaniard with a furrier top half but shorter, thinner pubes surrounding his five inches (12cm) of cut meat.

They squeezed a sandalwood scented soap into each other’s hands and began to work it into a lather, running circles over dense shoulders, rock hard biceps, and pointed nipples splitting their chests.

“You should shave this.” Hugo played with the fur across his younger dueling partner’s chest.

“You don’t want to feel like you’re with a man, huh?” Everett shot back.

“Man? I only see a boy.” Hugo toyed with him.

Underneath their flirtation laid a subconscious fight for dominance; an older, steadier, more confident lion versus a special but raw, young wolf.

Hugo’s hands moved back behind Everett, sliding down his lats, across his lower back, and settling to pinch Everett’s smooth muscular ass hard. “You shave back here.”

“That’s different.” The American responded, nibbling on Hugo’s lips. “And I only do it by my choice, not because you asked me to.”

Hugo smirked, knowing he had more sway over the naive 21-year-old than Everett even realized. He’d asked him to shave his backside after their first meeting and by the third, Everett’s cheeks were smooth.

“You’re getting hotter.” Hugo murmured. Despite the threat that Everett presented to his self-image of power, he revered the younger man with a deep envy. “All lean and tight and mine.” He dropped to his knees right there on the wet marble, water streaming off his blond head and pushing back his luscious hair against his head. His pronounced lips parted and Everett’s breath caught in his chest. 

Hugo started slow, nuzzling his face against Everett’s balls and inhaling the smells before it washed away with the fresh sandalwood soap. “Fuerte.” He whispered, more to himself. Everett felt shivers run down his spine. Hugo backed up and reached his tongue out as far as it could go, then licked a slow, wet streak up Everett’s dick before suckling the head into his mouth and tasting the salty taste of pre-cum.

Everett’s head fell backward and his hands came down to hold Hugo’s cheek. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Hugo worshipped the younger man; sucking one ball into his mouth while his hand squeezed Everett’s polished, tight head. Water pounded over them, turning the air steamier and drowning out their moans. Hugo switched to the other ball, sucking harder, then licked back up the shaft and swirled his tongue around the head, dipping his tongue into the slit to taste the steady leak of man juice flowing externally. 

Hugo wanted him relaxed and in bliss, but also vulnerable and needy; all so he wouldn’t forget these moments on the court. Everett’s hips bucked forward involuntarily, but Hugo’s hands gripped his thighs, holding him still so he stayed in control even on his knees. He took more, inch by inch, until Everett’s cock was buried against his throat’s entrance. He held there, locked on Everett’s face, then pulled back slowly, strings of saliva and pre-cum connecting his lips to the glistening American cut cock.

“Jesus Christ,” Everett panted, fingers threading through Hugo’s wet blond hair. “I’m gonna faint from this.”

Hugo grinned up at him. “Not until you cum. Then you can do whatever the fuck you want.” He dove back down, faster now, bobbing his head in a steadier rhythm down to the root, throat working, then up with a tight suck on the head. 

He reached his hand around and without warning, slipped his pointer finger inside Everett’s tight, muscular, smooth asshole. “Aghh fuck.” Everett grunted, feeling his hole be breached.

Every time Everett’s thighs started to shake and his moans turned desperate, Hugo backed off, grinning with total control.

“Please Hugo, I need to cum. I’m getting dizzy” Everett finally gasped after the third edge, hips twitching. His cock was so full that it had started visibly throbbing up and down, veins pulsing and the leaking stream now more of a river. “Come on, you can fuck me later, just blow me and let me finish.”

Hugo’s blue eyes flashed with triumph. “That’s it, Ev. You just had to ask.” He swallowed Everett to the root again; faster, sloppier, and gurgling dramatically even though he didn’t need to. He portrayed himself as the submissive pleaser but he was in command of every movement.

“I’m close.” Everett panted. He tried again to face fuck the Spaniard but Hugo’s hands still steadied him in place, dictating the manner and timing of the American’s orgasm. When it finally hit, his whole body locked up, abs clenching, and Hugo held him still, working his cock as it launched a volcanic eruption of seed down the awaiting throat. Everett’s knees were buckling but Hugo helped him stay upright through his climax.

When Hugo finally pulled off, he dramatically licked his lips, tasting the last traces, then rose to his feet, water streaming off his body, cock still rock-hard and curving up and to the right. He pulled Everett into a deep, messy kiss that tasted like cum and those same blackberries.

“So,” Hugo teased against his mouth, voice hoarse from the blowjob, “did I suck your soul out enough for you to at least consider moving to Spain?”

Everett laughed, realizing he’d been completely disarmed. He kissed Hugo again, slower this time, hands roaming back over Hugo’s butt cheeks, feeling the thin, full layer of fur across each juicy, sculpted mountain. “We’ll see, you bitch.” he panted, grinning.

They lingered under the spray a few more minutes, soaping each other lazily now, Hugo’s hands gliding carefully over Everett’s lean frame, tracing the light fur on his chest and stomach, and playing his spent penis gently. Everett returned the favor, soaping Hugo’s smooth chest and thick happy trail. He ended up stroking Hugo’s hard cock to keep him on edge through their shower with the steam smelling more and more like a mix of wood and sex.

Finally they shut off the water, wrapped plush towels around their waists, and walked out to the living room. The massive floor to ceiling windows showed the lit up Alhambra across the valley as if it were heaven watching over the earth down below. They stood at the balcony doors and Everett pulled them ajar, the cool night air raising goosebumps on their damp skin.

Taking Hugo’s advice from earlier, Everett boldly dropped his towel and walked out onto the balcony. From down below, he could make out faceless strangers walking through the streets of Granada. If they looked up now, they’d have seen Everett’s two or three soft inches of penis pointed down at them as he stood bare, looking over the city beneath him.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it.” Hugo said, still wearing his towel. “We could piss down on everyone if we wanted to.”

Everett tilted his head, finding the cocky, judgmental phrasing off-putting. “That’s a little fucked up, isn’t it?”

Hugo shrugged. “I don’t mean that we’re better than them.” He corrected. “Someone else will always be higher who could piss down on us too. But you’re never going to pass me or anyone else unless you embrace an imperative to be higher up than someone else. Even if it’s someone you care about.”

Everett thought it over and felt conflicted. There may have been some truth in Hugo’s words but the way he said it felt foreign and ‘fucked up’; the only words Everett could come up with to describe how it made him feel.

“Sometimes, it’s fun to get pissed on.” Hugo added. “As long as you’re content with where you are in the pecking order.” He finally dropped his towel, freeing his ragingly hard boner. “I’m in my right place now. I just need to stay right here for as long as possible. Are you where you’re content?”

Everett felt his chest start to rise and fall faster as his eyes glanced between the city below and Hugo’s uncut, meaty penis. The cool night air nipped at his damp skin, making his nipples tighten and his own soft, empty dick twitch uselessly between his legs.

Hugo stepped closer, barefoot on the smooth balcony floor, and gripped the back of Everett’s neck roughly. His fingers dug in. “On your fucking knees,” Hugo commanded.

Everett dropped instantly, the impact jarring his knees against the cold tile. He stared up at Hugo; tall, broad, backlit by the warm glow spilling from the apartment, and felt small in a way that made his stomach clench with heat. Hugo didn’t wait. He fisted his own cock, gave it two rough strokes, then slapped the heavy length across Everett’s cheek hard. Once. Twice. The third time even harder, leaving a sticky smear of pre-cum along Everett’s cheekbone. 

“Open wide,” Hugo ordered.

Everett’s lips parted on instinct. Hugo didn’t ease in; he shoved his uncut cock as hard as he could into the open hole and didn’t stop until the head rammed against the back of his throat. Everett immediately gagged, eyes watering instantly, as he choked on Hugo’s dick.

“Hold still” Hugo growled as he began to face fuck Everett, whose head was now backed against the balcony railing. Everett’s throat spasmed around the intrusion and saliva flooded his mouth, dripping down his chin. Once a minute, Hugo pulled back enough to let him breathe for a few seconds then slammed forward again, fucking his face with short, brutal thrusts. The wet, obscene sounds echoed out over the city below.

Hugo turned slightly, one hand braced on the railing, eyes fixed on the glittering sprawl of his home city beneath them as he fucked the awaiting mouth below him. “Look at them,” Hugo muttered, voice rough with pleasure. He was humping forward faster now but his eyes only looked out over the city. “Everyone scurrying around. And here you are, a professional athlete, choking on my dick.”

Everett moaned around the cock stuffing his mouth. His own dick was painfully hard again now, bobbing untouched between his thighs. After two or three minutes, Hugo suddenly yanked his dick out. Strings of spit connected Everett’s lips to the glistening shaft. Everett gasped and coughed, as drool ran down his chest.

“Eyes up. Keep them open.” Hugo snapped.

Everett tilted his head back and opened his mouth with his tongue out like he’d been trained. His eyes stung with tears; he was Hugo’s bitch once again, despite his prior strength all day in the face of the older competitor.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum all over this pretty fucking face,” Hugo snarled. The first rope splattered across Everetts cheeks with force, pouring some semen into his nostrils. Everett immediately closed his eyes just before cum landed all over one of his lids. The ropes kept coming, painting Everett’s face with thick cream as Hugo squeezed every ounce out of his shaft.

When he finally let go of Everett’s hair, Everett stayed exactly where he was; kneeling, covered, trembling, and breathing hard through his nose. Cum flowed down his cheeks from gravity.

Hugo looked down at him, then out at the city again, satisfied. “Stay like that,” he said quietly, almost tenderly now. “Let it dry.”

“Fuck.” Everett panted. “How do you always do this to me.”

“Because for now I’m still higher up than you. I’m no better than you but I can still ‘piss on you’ whenever I want. And until you change that, if you ever even can…you’re mine.” 

With semen drying into his skin, Everett was scared. Not of their sexual dynamic, but what it represented for his prospects on the tennis court this week and beyond. If he believed he was stuck under Hugo’s thumb, then his own athletic ceiling was capped at a level he couldn’t and wouldn’t be content with.

“How about this,” Hugo said, looking down to face him. “You win Barcelona next week, or at least beat me, and you don’t need to move here. But if you lose again, you can use it as cover that you need to make a drastic change. Hire a Spanish coach and try something new. The media and and your family will understand. We don’t have to date or be anything serious but we can fuck and live…at least until you’ve moved higher than me in life…onto bigger things.”

Everett stared at him, heart hammering. “Fine.” He finally picked up Hugo’s towel and wiped his face off. “You know your time is almost up, Hugo.”

Hugo’s grin was blinding. “We’ll see about that.” A tiny part of him was rooting for the American; he was jealous of Everett’s ceiling and as much as he wanted to remain on top, he couldn’t bear the thought of wasted potential. He held a hand out and helped the naked, tan, wolf to his feet. “This was a fun night.”

Everett smiled and let that small part of his heart that had real, complicated feelings for the older man take center stage. He pulled Hugo into a tight hug and they kissed one more time; the world below them unaware of the duel playing out high above.

Author Note*******: Check out my reddit page for more info on how to read more of this miniseries!

Part One

“Dev,” Frederik said, his voice still quiet but clearer now. “Truth or dare?”

Dev took zero time to second guess himself. “Dare,” he said firmly. He wanted to keep pace with his fellow freshmen. He reached down and fiddled with the necklace his mom had made for him. She'd told him it was there as a good luck charm, something to give him strength in a new place. He couldn't help but smile to himself, thinking about her finding out what he was now relying on it for bravery to do.

Frederik bit his lip, thinking. He hadn't expected to be the one giving a dare this early. He looked at Brett, then Adam, then Kieran, then back at Dev. His eyes seemed to linger on Dev’s expectant face. Dev’s jet-black hair, his bright, curious eyes, the toned but smaller physique.

“Okay, Dev,” Frederik said slowly, choosing his words carefully. “I dare you…to pick someone to lick your ear.”

“Huh?” Brett blurted out, shaking his head and laughing, "how is that what popped into your head?!"

"Brett, cmon..." Kieran shook his head and glared at him, as if saying what's wrong with you.

Dev’s head tilted with surprise and a tiny flicker of disappointment. It seemed a little odd but not difficult. He had prepared himself for something more intense after watching Brett. But, a dare was a dare.

“Okay,” Dev said, looking around, before settling on Adam who was seated next to him. 

Adam quickly reacted and moved in, taking Dev’s ear slowly and softly into his mouth, sucking and nibbling at it. Dev felt his body grow warm, caught off guard by how intimate the act felt, far more so than he expected. His face flushed and his heart rate elevated as Adam ran his tongue up and down the soft cartilage of his lobe. He began to audibly breathe heavier right before Adam pulled back, smiling having completed his assignment. 

“Thanks,” Dev said quietly to Adam, “that was…uhh...different than I expected…” he felt a warm buzz in his groin that surprised him. Adam looked down below Dev's waist and raised his eyebrows in a cheeky way, as if suggesting that he had an idea of what he'd just stirred in the younger guy.

Dev turned back to the rest of the group. “My turn now I think?”

He looked at the older guys, then back at Leo. He felt a pull towards Leo, a curiosity sparked by his confidence and his frankness but he was ultimately desperate to impress the most intimidating guy in the room. He'd always been drawn to trying to be 'cool'. Half the time, he didn't even know what that meant and had probably gotten himself into trouble more times than he could remember by following what others did.

“Brett,” Dev said, wanting to take a risk with the biggest wild card. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Brett answered immediately. He raised both eyebrows quickly; bring it on.

Dev thought for a moment. He felt his pulse quicken further. “Okay, Brett. I dare you to take off your shirt and pants. Down to your underwear.”

Kieran let out a low whistle. Brett’s grin widened even further.

“Alright, you want a better look at me, I get it. Figured you were probably closeted…” Brett said, standing up. Dev blushed at the challenge to his sexuality and immediately regretted his decision. He felt flustered and wondered if he'd fucked up, even questioning himself and why that was the dare he'd landed on.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one swift motion, revealing a thick, smooth physique. It was clear he had strong muscles within, but his exterior was soft, without visibly defined abs. He didn’t look overweight, but it was evident that he focused more on strength than toning. It was also obvious that he had a lot of natural hair that he shaved based on the prickly millimeter length hair dotting his chest and stomach, leaving him mostly smooth to the quick glance. He tossed the shirt aside.

Brett went for his belt buckle next. He unbuttoned his jeans, and peeled them down his legs, leaving him standing in a pair of fitted boxer briefs that came pretty far down his upper legs. They were plain grey, clinging tightly to his thick, rounded thighs. Lush dark hair covered his legs leading up to the bottom of his briefs, supporting that he was in fact hairy all over if he hadn’t shaved his upper body.

Dev’s eyes moved down to his underwear, focused on the heavy, revealing bulge. It jutted out from his large body, suggesting a heavy package underneath. Brett posed for a second, flexing playfully. He was less pale than Frederik, but not as tanned as Leo or Adam. He stood confidently in his underwear, entirely at ease with the situation. 

“Impressive, man,” Leo drawled, unable to hold himself back from shooting his shot at this point. He was bolder than almost anyone else in the room and was completely willing to put himself out there, if it meant any shot at the meaty All American in front of him.

“Alright, Dev, enjoy the view” Brett chuckled, sitting back down on Leo’s bed. He picked up his jeans and t-shirt and tossed them across the room.

Brett looked around. “Kieran. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Kieran said, mischief in his eyes.

“Pick someone to trace the outline of your lips with their tongue. Then let them spit in your mouth...a real thick one!” He laughed, proud of himself.

Dev’s eyes widened, looking at Kieran’s face expecting him to look disgusted. Frederik softly inhaled anxiously.

“Dev,” Kieran said, his voice strong and confident. “I choose Dev.”

Dev shook his head and walked over to Kieran. He was trembling slightly. Kieran looked up at him, almost reaching his face sitting down with their nearly foot height difference, his eyes steady and reassuring. Dev took another deep breath.

Dev moved his face in and stuck his tongue far out of his mouth, making light contact with Kieran lips and gently tracing the curve of Kieran’s upper lip, then the lower. Dev found it less gross that he expected and thought the Irish boy’s lips were soft like he imagined a girl’s would be. 

Then came the spitting. Dev’s heart hammered. He stared at Kieran, who met his gaze without flinching. Dev turned his head with a silent question. Kieran gave a small, encouraging nod back. Dev swallowed hard, trying to build up some saliva. He leaned closer to Kieran who parted his lips slightly, opening his mouth just enough that Dev could see down into the back of his throat. Dev held his breath, leaned in, and expelled a small amount of saliva from his mouth into Leo’s.

It was quick, wet, and bizarre. Dev pulled back immediately, recoiling instinctively. Kieran closed his mouth, his expression neutral before he slowly and deliberately swallowed.

Dev stared at him, shocked. “You…you swallowed it?”

Kieran’s lips quirked upwards. “Why waste good hydration?” he said, his voice low and teasing. “It’s just spit, Dev. I’ve swallowed a lot more than that.”

Dev could only stare, speechless. The casualness of it was more surprising than the dare itself. Frederik looked horrified. Brett looked content with himself and Kieran was beaming. Kieran turned to face the group, seemingly unaffected by the dare. “My turn,” he announced. He looked at Adam. “Adam. Truth or Dare?”

Adam chuckled, “let’s ramp this up already, I don’t want to be here till 4AM…"

Kieran grinned at him and then glance between the three freshmen, assessing each of them for whether they could handle the escalation to the inevitable now. He decided to go for it. “Okay, Adam. Here’s one for ya mate. Make out with Brett’s ass through his underwear.”

Dev’s breath hitched. He looked at Frederik, whose eyes were wide, color flooding back into his cheeks. They both looked to Leo, who looked hungry and jealous of Adam.

“Just through the undies?” Adam mused aloud, tapping a finger against his chin.

“Keeping it PG-13 for now,” Kieran grinned, “saving you from finding out directly if that big straight loaf washes his ass.” 

Brett shot him a hateful look. “Lucky Adam...”

“Excellent,” Kieran rubbed his hands together. 

Adam dropped to his knees in front of Brett. Brett shifted slightly, turning his back towards Adam and spreading his legs a little. The plain grey fabric stretched taut across the curve of his huge glutes and pulled into the crease between them, outlining each cheek.

Dev watched intently, his own body feeling a strange mix of tension and fascination. Adam leaned in and pressed his lips against the material, right where the seam dipped into the crack. He stayed there for a moment, pressing a soft kiss against the warm fabric. Then, with a theatrical flourish, he stuck out his tongue, making exaggerated kissing sounds against the underwear right where Brett crack parted, a millimeter of fabric separating Adam’s tongue from Brett’s bare hole.

Brett sat remarkably still, his shoulders slightly slumped, a small smirk playing on his lips as he seemingly endured or enjoyed the experience.

Adam kept it up for a good fifteen seconds, the smacking sounds echoing slightly in the room. Leo found himself transfixed by the sight, wondering how it felt for both of them. Was the fabric soft? Was Brett’s skin warm underneath? What did the underwear smell like? His mind raced with questions.

Finally, Adam pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still grinning widely. He stood up. “Can confirm he probably washes his arse okay.”

Brett turned, still smirking. “Duh…pleasure doing business with you.”

“Okay, my turn.” Adam announced, looking around the room. “Leo, amigo, I dare you to strip,”

Leo, who had been watching the spectacle with keen interest and wanting, chuckled. “Me? Bueno, no problema. How much?”

“All of it,” Adam said sternly.

Leo, far less shy than his classmates grinned, “Awesome…” He was excited.

Dev and Frederik eyed each other nervously again as things escalated considerably, headed towards an obvious ‘finish’.

Leo walked to the middle of the crowded dorm room. He hesitated for a moment, his heart beat speeding up as he felt the spotlight turn to him. The nerves, however, turned him on. 

He started by pulling off his t-shirt, revealing his toned and muscular chest. He was a classically hairy Spaniard, with dark hair covering his chest and leading down to his belly button. His abs were defined underneath the fur, making him appear older than he was.

As Leo slipped off his shorts, he could feel his cock starting to stiffen underneath. He wasn't sure if it was the thrill of the dare or that he was getting turned on by the idea of being naked in front of his new friends, but either way, he was excited to let himself be free. 

With Leo now in just his underwear, Frederik’s jaw dropped as he noticed the outline jutting out to the side of his roommate’s underwear before he turned away from Frederik’s bed and towards the other guys.

Leo wasted no time in pulling down his trunks next, revealing a now fully erect 7 uncut inches of average girth. He hadn’t shaved lately and had a bush of dark hair around his penis and on his balls. From behind, Kieran and Frederik instead got a view of his toned, strong ass covered in a layer of hair that matched his groin and chest.

“Well…fuck.” Adam said softly, impressed by the freshman’s dick pointing at him. 

Leo smiled, “sorry, I got excited guys.” He strutted back towards Brett and his bed, sitting back down with his cock now pointing straight to the ceiling. His tan foreskin barely pulled back from the head, mostly keeping it covered even when hard. Frederik looked at it in shock while Kieran, who sat next to him, licked his lips, hungry to taste it.

“Isn’t this kinda weird?” Frederik asked, looking around the room, surprised that no one else was acknowledging their now fully naked and clearly horny friend just sitting there.

“Sure it is, but who fucking cares,” Brett stated, not even bothering to look down at the exposed dick right next to him, “lighten up, we’re just fucking around with friends.”

“Okay…” Leo tried to focus on the next dare, rather than his pulsing member begging for contact with something, anything.

Leo looked around. Frederik was still shirtless, looking flustered. Brett was still in his briefs, his bulge visible as he shifted his weight. Dev was fully dressed, trying to appear casual despite the pounding in his chest. Kieran was watching everything with an amused expression.

Leo laughed. His cock ached for physical contact. He needed it. Now. He looked around for who would be the most likely to help.

“Okay, Kieran.” Leo said sternly.

Kieran’s smile widened. “Lay it on me, Leo! Anything!”

Leo’s gaze met Kieran’s. The playful energy intensified, focusing entirely between the two of them. 

 “Kieran,” Leo said, his voice lowering again, becoming almost a purr. “I dare you to suck my dick. For one minute.”

Dev’s face felt hot. Frederik flushed a deep scarlet again, looking like he might faint. Brett watched, his smirk returning, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as readied for a show. Adam smiled, finally excited that things were moving.

Kieran’s smile got bigger then changed, becoming more focused, more intense. He glanced down at Leo’s hard, uncut cock. “I’d love to,” the tall ginger got up and moved towards Leo’s bed, taking a spot on his knees as Leo spread his legs open, revealing the view of his hard dick pointed upward and a hairy taint and crack underneath that was just barely visible to the group at this angle.

“Anyone ever go down there?” Kieran pointed to the barely visible hole under his balls at the edge of the bed.

“No…”

Kieran shook his head, disappointed, “ready?” 

“Sí,” Leo confirmed softly. “For one minute.”

Leo held his own dick for a moment, his hand wrapped around the base, letting Kieran get a good look. Kieran’s eyes devoured the sight. Leo offered his cock, wagging it in the ginger’s face.

Kieran reached out and jerked Leo a few times, pulling down his foreskin, forcing the Spanish boy to let out a low moan. Kieran opened his mouth and took the slick head of Leo’s uncut dick into his mouth, tasting the sweet and sticky juices that had been building around the ridges.

Dev couldn’t look away as Kieran’s ginger head bobbed up and down, making soft, wet sounds. Leo closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, a soft moan escaping his lips, “fuck you’re so good…” he groaned.

Kieran continued, his cheeks hollowing as he took more of Leo inside his mouth. His hands rested lightly on Leo’s hairy thighs, holding himself steady. The minute felt like an eternity, charging the air in the room with sexuality. Kieran teased Leo one time, easily pushing all seven inches down into his throat after years of practice. 

“Aaagghh oh my god fuccck.” Leo whimpered, his masculine energy breaking as he squirmed. 

Dev felt his own body responding when he saw Leo’s entire long dick disappear into Kieran’s mouth, the unfamiliar sight both shocking and intensely arousing. He watched Kieran’s focused expression and the way his lips moved.

After what had clearly been more than a minute, Kieran pulled away. He didn’t wipe his mouth and instead just looked up at Leo, feeling satisfied. There was a trace of pre cum on Kieran’s lips.

Leo opened his eyes, looking down at Kieran. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he’d been just seconds away from an orgasm. He looked flushed, his tan skin seeming even warmer now. 

“Time’s up amigo…” Kieran smirked, “your cock is amazing…”

He stole a glance towards Frederik, who was staring at the ceiling. Brett was still watching, but the smirk was gone, replaced by a more serious, appraising look.

Kieran stood up, brushing off his knees. He looked directly at Brett, who was still in his grey briefs. 

There was a new glint in Kieran’s blue-green eyes. His lips were still slightly moist from his dare.

“Brett,” Kieran said, his voice carrying a new weight. “My turn to dare.”

Brett met his gaze, no longer smirking. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Kieran gestured between himself and Brett, his eyes flicking down to his own still-moist lips, then to Brett’s. “Brett,” he said. “I dare you to make out with me. Right now.”

Brett’s eyes narrowed slightly, considering him. He glanced at Leo, who was watching him with a knowing smile. He looked at Kieran, who waited, his expression open and challenging.

“Fine…” Brett confirmed, his voice low, unwilling to be the one who backed out of the game as a self-proclaimed tough guy.

“Yeah,” Kieran said. “Just a kiss. A proper kiss. After…well, you know.” He gestured subtly towards Leo’s throbbing and spit-soaked cock.

Brett paused. He seemed to be weighing something. Dev watched his face intently. Was he hesitant? Uncomfortable? Or just building the suspense?

Brett took a step up towatds Kieran. He was still in his underwear, muscular legs slightly apart. Kieran stood fully clothed, his face relaxed but expectant. Brett reached out and gently placed his hands on Kieran’s shoulders. Kieran didn’t move. Brett leaned up slowly. The other guys watched, fascinated and breathless. Brett’s eyes were half-closed as he approached. Kieran parted his lips slightly.

Brett’s lips met Kieran’s. It wasn’t a tentative peck. Brett pressed his mouth firmly against Kieran’s, tilting his head slightly. Kieran responded immediately, his hands coming up to rest on Brett’s waist. They kissed for several seconds. Dev could see the movement of their mouths, the slight pressure, the way their bodies angled towards each other. It looked like two people with considerable experience in the bedroom performing a complex dance together.

Dev’s mind flashed to Kieran’s mouth around Leo’s cock and how Brett was now kissing Kieran’s mouth. It felt like a circuit closing, the flavors and sensations transferring between them. Dev felt a strange thrill, almost wishing he was in between them.

Brett pulled back first, his hands still on Kieran’s shoulders. His eyes were dark, looking directly into Kieran’s. Kieran’s lips were slightly reddened, a faint sheen on them. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

Then, Brett chuckled softly and spit into a nearby trash can, “gross. dare completed.” 

Kieran grinned, a slow, satisfied grin. “Good man, Brett. Good man.”

Brett turned, running a hand over his stubbled chest. He was still standing in his underwear, his soft, monstrous package sagging heavy in his briefs. His gaze swept over the room, feeling the energy of the game, the way everyone was watching him. He landed on Frederik, still sitting shirtless, looking shell-shocked but also, Leo thought, maybe a little less terrified than earlier.

Brett’s expression softened slightly when he looked at Frederik. “Alright, Frederik,” Brett said, his voice losing some of its earlier cockiness, becoming almost gentle. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

Frederik flinched slightly, but this time he didn’t look away immediately. He looked at Brett, standing there mostly naked himself, looking less like an intimidating senior and more like just a large, beefy, guy playing a game. He looked at Kieran, who’d returned to sitting next to him and now gave him a small, encouraging smile. He looked at Dev, who offered him a nervous but hopeful nod. 

Frederik took a deep breath. Dev could see him gathering his courage, the tiny spark of determination from earlier flickering back to life.

“Guys I’m trying here,” Frederik whispered, his voice trembling slightly, but audible this time, “dare.”

Another ripple went through the room. Dev felt a surge of respect for the quiet Dane. He was pushing himself, hard, to experience new things and find peace with this group.

Brett’s eyes met Frederik’s. There was no smirk now, only a calm acceptance of Frederik’s choice. “Okay, Frederik,” Brett said softly. “Join your buddy Leo over there in all your glory.” He gestured towards the confident, hard, ripped, Spaniard.

Dev watched Frederik'’s face. He seemed nervous still, but this time there was less panic, more struggling with the concept of stripping. He looked down at his bare chest, then down his jeans and exhaled...

Author Note*****: Check out my reddit page for where you can find the rest of this longer series and so much more of my writing!

Part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be continued...

AUTHOR NOTE: Visit my reddit page to check out other stories I've written and more info on how to find the rest of this series!!!!!!

Everett watched from a box at the top of the grandstands as Hugo Delgado pumped his fist after a straight set sweep. He’d demolished his lesser opponent; an amateur from the US college circuit who Everett had already beaten three times this season himself. 

The crowd politely clapped, mostly unimpressed by Delgado’s expected victory early in the tournament in Rotterdam. It was dreary, being early February, and freezing in the Netherlands; the well-underway tennis season grinding from city to city across the world. 

Everett had only recently declared fully pro, departing his college program in Berkeley, California during this third year of college, one month after turning 21. Traveling the world had seemed like part of the exciting draw in joining the full time circuit, but so far he’d been stuck in shitty hotels. He’d been buried at the bottom of the bracket and hadn’t made it far enough in any tournament yet to even get a spot on TV.

Thanks to a few injuries to some of the best in the world, Rotterdam had brought the rare opportunity for Everett to advance deeper. He’d squeezed through a five set, multi hour affair in the first round before an easier straight sets victory of his own in round two. Now he knew Hugo would take out his opponent to set up the inevitable match between them in the quarterfinals, so he wanted to take one last chance to scout his rival in person before their match tomorrow.

Hugo looked like he hadn’t broken a sweat down on the court through his entire victory. He’d just crossed into the top 50 ranked men in the world for the first time in his career at the age of 25 and was in the midst of his best season as a professional. Even when Everett was back in college, dominating the university system and staying amateur potentially too long, he knew who Delgado was; everyone did. Hugo had the talent of a player destined for a long but average pro career; teetering somewhere in the 50s or 60s in the rankings. But his fame profile was of someone ranked in the top ten; a testament to his successful modeling career and endless brand deals. Every major watch, fashion, and lifestyle brand was excited to sponsor the tan, tall, dashing Spaniard, even if he was winless in major tournament ever since going pro at the age of 18. All he had to do was show up.

Up on the big board, Hugo’s name, with a ‘3’ for his seed in the bracket, advanced to the quarterfinals. The Spanish flag populated next to his name and just below it was a numberless ‘E. Pierce’ with the American flag.

Everett stood and climbed down from the stands, anxious for their match tomorrow.

—-

That night, Hugo unwinded with a glass of a Bordeaux blend over small cuts of premium beef and fresh vegetables. He’d been put up at the nicest hotel in the city, courtesy of one of his sponsors, and knew these first few rounds were purely for warming up.

A waiter greeted him in the lobby bar of the hotel, where a small section had been roped off for his privacy. “Mister Delgado, would you like anything else, sir?” 

“No, no necesito nada. Gracias.” Hugo waived him off. He spoke fluent English but often defaulted to his native tongue on the road to avoid long conversations or fan interactions. 

His phone screen was playing a loop of Everett Pierce’s forehand from his second round match, showing a stronger speed and more tactical top spin than the last time the two had met on the court, four months ago. They’d faced off three times since meeting for the first time twelve months ago but every other time, it’d been with Everett as an amateur. He’d occasionally been invited to jump up to professional competition as an amateur, on the side from his college life. The first matchup had been a clean three set sweep for the Spaniard, the second had been three sets to one, and this last time had gone the full five set distance. Hugo knew that Everett had more natural skill than him and that it was only a matter of time before the much younger player surpassed him in physical ability.

He took in Everett’s lean, muscular form and the masculine energy he projected out into the world. From his experience knowing the younger American, he knew him to be bullheaded and undisciplined, like an uncontrollable warrior with too much strength to know how to focus it. Everett was the same height as Hugo at 6’1” (185cm) but where Hugo was graceful and ‘prettier’, Everett was gruffer and wilder, with toned biceps, broader shoulders, and a more precise jawline. He had more ‘man’ in him than the Spaniard could ever hope to possess, but the American failed to realize what he had; his biggest weakness and Hugo’s opportunity.

Hugo: Ready for tomorrow?

Everett: Should we be texting before the match? Maybe let’s keep it neutral until we play?

Hugo: how boring that would be. Think you might break through this time and beat me?

Everett: that’s the plan. Maybe some of your brands will jump ship to me too

Hugo: I don’t think you really have what they’re looking for…

Everett: Winning probably trumps whatever stupid thing that is

Hugo: Sorry, did you mention winning? I must’ve missed when you’ve won something that mattered. I don’t think beating up on American college kids counts for much

Everett: we’ll see. 

Everett: but seriously, good luck tomorrow

Hugo: don’t need it but thanks

He finished off his red wine and placed the glass close by, signaling to the waiter to pour another. He didn’t need ‘luck’; he had a psychological advantage that, until now, he’d never needed to exploit, but it was time to grind Everett’s psyche down a bit.

Tennis always came first. 

—

When Hugo waltzed onto the court, he made sure to open his mouth wide, showing off his perfect teeth and winking to the ground from under a headband holding back his luscious, thick, dark blonde hair. Pointing across the net at Everett Pierce, he winked, using every tool in the charm belt to disarm the more talented American.

Everything drifted away for Everett; the stands went still and quiet, and his eyes lasored in only on Hugo. How the fuck did the older guy seem so calm? It was like he was absorbing the crowd’s energy into his bones, finding strength and confidence from the pressure. Sometimes in these moments, Everett wondered if some of his own energy was being siphoned away by his rival.

His life was so different from other players on the tour. There were world champions who’d come from nothing; earning their place from god-given ability and tireless work. Others were born into wealth or had been the son or daughter of a former professional, inheriting athletic genes via the luck of the draw. Everett’s path featured a bit of both. 

Neither of his parents had an ounce of athletic ability; his mom, who came from wealth, had stayed home his entire life, dedicating her ‘career’ to being her husband’s trophy and taking Everett to tournaments all over Florida when he was a little kid. His father was a tall, average looking man who’d started a small manufacturing business near Orlando, growing it from three employees to three hundred. When Everett was four years old, his dad ran for congress for the first time, riding that ‘rags to riches’ narrative to a conservative seat in the US House of Representatives. Living in that public eye, Everett had grown up living two distinct lives; one at a home with a down to earth and loving father, who believed in equality and the value of hard work, and one in public, where he was the son of a hardcore conservative Floridian politician who spoke with a fabricated set of values, marketable to his district.

Everett flipped Hugo off with the hand not holding his racket, then turned the gesture into a friendly wave for the cameras, trying to soak up some air time now that he was finally in front of an international audience. They were both grinning like idiots. That was the thing nobody outside the locker room ever understood; they seemed like fierce competitors who’d met an uncharacteristically high number of times. But what no one else knew was that tournament scheduling overlap was intentional; an effort to find time for hidden meet-ups, hotel rendezvous, and room service dinner dates. 

While Hugo had flown to Northern California twice over the last year, and Everett had gotten to Granada once, these scheduling coincidences were the easiest and cheapest way to find time for whatever the hell their fling had become.

But right now? This was war.

Hugo tossed the ball, that perfect little ritual he did; two bounces, spin, then a toss so high it looked like he was throwing it into space. The serve cracked off his racket like a gunshot. Everett dove, racket stretching, and managed to get a piece of it. The ball clipped the tape and dropped dead on Hugo’s side, scoring a point for the American.

“Fifteen-love, asshole.” Everett mumbled under his breath, pumping his fist. This was the match that could go his way.

Hugo threw his head back and laughed again. The first set went to a tiebreak as they trades games back and forth; Hugo’s tactical patience and intimidating stare versus Everett’s heavy, powerful forehand; Spanish smarts vs. American kill. By the time Everett finally took the first set 7-6, they were both drenched in sweat. Hugo’s band across his hair was already as wet as a dirty sponge and Everett’s shirt clung to his tan skin, scratching against his chest hair.

They met at the net in between sets, toweling off and sipping electrolytes and water. 

“You’re slow today, old man,” Everett muttered, wiping his face.

Hugo’s eyes sparkled. “I figured I’d spot you a lead this time. Let’s see what you do with it.”

Everett smirked. “Go ahead and stay cocky. Right till the end.”

But set two belonged to Hugo. He broke Everett twice, forcing Everett to hit awkward defensive backhands; something the Spaniard had warned him was his biggest weakness. When Hugo won it 6-3, he gave the crowd a soft clap on his racket and they ate it up, chanting his name. Women across the stands snapped pictures nonstop for their friends, fawning over his dashing allure.

Everett couldn’t even be mad. He took an opportunity to stare at the older man’s tight, rounded ass as they switched sides again, joining the women in gawking at the recently eighth ranked ‘hottest male athletes in the world’ by some stupid magazine.

Everett tried to dictate the terms of their tight volleys in the third set, forcing Hugo to his forehand as much as possible. Hugo stuck with his same strategy whenever he had the serve, slowing the pace down to a tactical backhand-dominated chess match. They traded holding serve until it was 5-5, then 6-6, heading to another tiebreak. Everett managed to save three set points with impossible shots. It was sign of his steadily improving play, but it wasn’t enough as Hugo finally took the set with a loud roar; a rare show of genuine emotion and rawness he usually kept out of the public eye.

Hugo walked to the net first and offered a hand to his opponent. It was half to impress the TV crowd with his sportsmanship and half to check in with his younger friend. Their palms slapped together, sweaty and hot.

“2-1. You wanna let this set go so we get outta here faster?” Hugo said, whispering so only Everett could hear and saying it with a smile so the cameras wouldn’t think he was talking shit. “We know how this ends either way.”

Everett felt his own confidence diminishing more and more by the second. Hugo’s swagger was like this suffocating boulder, slowly squeezing the American’s skill advantage out of the arena.

The fourth set was the stamina test. Hugo broke early, then Everett broke back. They were both grunting on every shot now, primal sounds that bounced around the arena. Hugo’s shirt came off at one point so he could towel off, and the crowd went feral at the sight of his smooth, tanned chest and that thick happy trail arrowing down into his shorts. Everett had to force himself not to stare. His own body was humming, every muscle on fire, but the sight of Hugo like that; glistening, breathing hard; sent blood rushing south in a way that was extremely inconvenient in tiny tennis shorts.

Everett bent but didn’t break in that fourth set, taking it 6-4. The fifth set would decide it.

They toweled off again, shoulders brushing. Hugo’s breath was hot against Everett’s ear when he leaned in. “Last set. Winner gets to fuck the loser however he wants in the locker room?”

Everett’s cock twitched so hard he had to adjust his shorts right there on court. “You’re on. Lube up before you come to see me. I wanna slide right in.”

Hugo huffed cockily. “After I win, you can wait till I arrive. I wanna loosen you up myself before I make you scream.”

The fifth set was the best tennis either of them had played all year. They held serve for the first eight games. The rallies stretched to fifteen or twenty shots and Everett’s legs felt like they were on fire, but every time he looked across the net, Hugo was right there, chest heaving, blond hair plastered to his forehead under the headband, that light facial hair shadow glistening with sweat. They were both smiling like maniacs between points and the crowd was losing its mind.

At 4-4, Hugo faltered. Everett fought back to deuce, then won the game with an ace that nearly took Hugo’s racket out of his hand. 5-4 Everett.

Hugo held to make it 5-5.

Then Everett held again for 6-5.

Hugo’s serve to stay in the match. He double-faulted the first point. The second he saved with an ace. The third point, Hugo crushed a backhand winner down the line. 30-15. 

Hugo bounced the ball but changed his routine, quickly moving to a lower toss and opting for a quicker release that caught Everett off guard and bounced over his outstretched racket despite its slower speed; 40-15. The arena had gone dead quiet except for the pounding of their own heartbeats. Hugo tossed, swung, and the ball flew by Everett again. 

6-6.

Everett walked in a circle on his side of the court, pacing back and forth. Hugo already knew the match was over. He smelled fear in the American and knew that Everett would beat himself, so that’s exactly what Hugo went for; safe, well-placed, slower shots that Everett eventually sailed in various directions, over and over, until the Spaniard took the tiebreak and won the fifth set 7-6, taking the match.

The crowd exploded. Hugo bobbed on his feet and raised a hand to the crowd in every direction. Everett stood at the net, chest heaving, sweat pouring into his eyes, but he was grinning and shaking his head. It was the best match of his young career and he knew it would help his reputation, even if it had still ended in a loss.

Hugo jogged over, sweat flying off his hair. They hugged at the net properly; sweaty, chest-to-chest, and half a second too long for television, generating inevitable social media memes and rumors later on that would only serve to raise their profiles higher. 

Hugo’s voice was rough in his ear. “Don’t shower yet.”

Everett’s cock throbbed again. “Fuck you.”

“I think I’ll be the one doing the fucking.” Hugo whispered back.

They turned to the crowd, waving, blowing kisses, and doing the whole post-match theater. Hugo signed a kid’s hat at the front row; Everett posed for a selfie, then they walked off the court together.

In the tunnel, Hugo’s hand brushed Everett’s ass once, hidden from the camera but still playing it off as an accident. “I’ll see that thing in a few minutes.”

They had private time in each individual locker room area before and after the matches. Everett waited on the bench until a knock came at his locked door a few minutes later and the second the door clicked shut behind them, Hugo was on him.

He shoved Everett back against the cool concrete wall so hard the breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Hugo’s mouth crashed into his, tasting like salt and the cherry energy drink he’d been sipping. Their bodies slammed together, still dripping, still burning from three hours of battle. Hugo’s hard cock pressed against Everett’s thigh through thin shorts, already leaking.

“Fuck, you played so good,” Hugo growled against his mouth, Spanish accent thicker now that he was turned on. “Almost had me. Almost.”

Everett’s hands fisted in Hugo’s damp hair, yanking the headband off so blond strands spilled everywhere. “You’re such an asshole. Couldn’t let me win for once?”

Hugo laughed, dark and dirty, and dropped to his knees right there on the tiled floor. The smell hit them both; pure post-match musk. Hugo buried his face in Everett’s crotch, inhaling through the soaked fabric like it was the best cologne in the world.

“God, you stink,” Hugo groaned. He yanked Everett’s shorts and underwear down in one motion. The American’s 5 inch (12cm) cut cock sprang free and bobbed in the middle of well-groomed, dark pubes. His groin was a little less tan than the rest of his body, but still darker from his heritage. Hugo easily swallowed Everett’s dick to the root in one gulp, nose pressing into the light fur at the base of Everett’s cock. Hugo’s tongue swirled, tasting salt and the intense tang of the match.

Everett’s head thunked back against the wall. “Fuck, Hugo. Suck my dick, yes.”

Hugo sucked harder, hollowing his cheeks, one hand coming up to feel the sweaty, furry chest of the hot, young American. He loved to show Everett how easy it was for him to eat all of his cock, burying it all in his mouth and holding it there for safekeeping in between their bitter competitions. Sweat dripped from Hugo’s forehead onto Everett’s thighs, and the locker room smelled like them now.

Everett’s hips bucked involuntarily. “Gettin close already.”

Hugo pulled off. “Not yet. Turn around.”

Hugo stood, stripping his own shorts off in one motion. His cock, almost seven inches (17cm), uncut, and shiny from pre cum and sweat soaking into his covered head, slapped up against his abs. Hugo spun Everett roughly, kicked his legs wide, then shoved him down until he was bent over the wooden bench in the middle of the room with his hole in the air.

Hugo spat into his palm then rubbed the slickness over his cock. No condom. They never used them anymore; they’d had the talk months ago, both clean and on preventive meds, and the raw feeling was too good to give up. Hugo lined up and with just some spit and sweat as lube, pushed into the American with one long, relentless thrust.

Everett screamed, loud and broken, just like on the court. “FUCK!” The stretch burned in the best way; Hugo’s cock splitting him open, thick and hot and still raunchy from the match. Hugo bottomed out, hips flush against Everett’s freshly shaved cheeks, and groaned like he’d died and gone to heaven.

“Fuck, you’re tight. Always so fucking tight for me. Young American college ass; nothing like it.” He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a brutal pace right away. The bench creaked under Everett’s weight. Hugo’s balls smacked against Everett with every thrust and the Spaniard felt his own furry, toned cheeks flexing; powering his animalistic need to breed the man he’d just bested on the court.

“Not. In. College. Anymore.” Everett grunted back.

“You’re still in college to me until you actually beat someone real out here.” Hugo spanked that shaved, muscular cheek once to assert his dominance one more time.

Sweat poured off both of them. It dripped from Hugo’s chest onto Everett’s back, ran down the fur on Everett’s stomach and pooled where their bodies joined. The smell was overwhelming; musk and salt and man. Hugo reached around and wrapped a big hand around Everett’s dick, stroking in time with his thrusts.

“You feel that?” Hugo panted, lips against Everett’s ear. “This is what winners get to do. My cock balls-deep in your pretty, little American ass while you moan like my bitch.”

Everett could only whimper, emasculating himself and pushing back to meet every thrust. His prostate lit up like fireworks every time Hugo’s head dragged over it.

“Harder,” Everett gasped. “Come on, you beat me…now fucking own it.”

Hugo snarled and obliged. He grabbed Everett’s hips with both hands and pounded into him. The bench rattled, threatening to break in half, and Everett’s knees shook. His dick throbbed in Hugo’s fist, leaking steadily now.

Hugo’s rhythm became more uneven. “I’m close. Can I finish inside?”

“Yeah of course,” Everett begged. “Cum inside me.”

Hugo slammed in one last time and froze, feeling his cock pulse and release his seed, hot ropes flooding deep into the American’s insides. The feeling pushed Everett over too, and he started cumming all over the bench from the calloused, rough hand stroking him. His hole clenched around Hugo’s spent, exhausted, winner’s dick the whole time. 

They stayed locked together for a minute, panting, sweating, and trembling. Hugo finally pulled out and looked down at Everett’s impossibly tight, athletic hole, which looked more closed than ever, even after taking seven inches of Spanish cock. He turned Everett around gently this time and kissed him slow and deep.

“Really played the best you ever have,” Hugo murmured against his lips.

Everett laughed, shaky. “Fuck you.”

They cleaned up just enough; quick wipes with towels and pulling fresh shorts on over still-sensitive skin. Hugo’s cum was still inside Everett, a secret only they knew. They stepped out of the changing room looking like two exhausted pros who’d just played a war; hair messy, cheeks flushed, identical satisfied smirks. The hallway to the media room was lined with cameras and a Dutch reporter spotted them first.

“Gentlemen! Incredible match. Hugo, that fifth set…how does it feel to come out on top?”

Hugo flashed his million-dollar smile, eyes sparkling, sweat still beading at his hairline. “Feels amazing. Everett pushed back and made it tight there for a minute but I finally got through him.”

Everett laughed at the innuendo and stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder; the picture of professional respect. Inside, he could still feel Hugo’s cum gargling around in his anal canals. He summoned his best Floridian drawl, an unnatural accent that his agent claimed might help him land unique opportunities. “Good match, y’all. He got me again, but next time I’ll top him.”

Hugo’s grin lit up again, another secretive acknowledgment. They posed for photos together; arms around shoulders, easy smiles, the kind of faux ‘bromance’ the press loved. Nobody had any idea that Hugo’s cum was still warm inside Everett; that they’d just fucked like primal animals ten minutes ago.

Hugo’s fingers brushed the small of Everett’s back as they separated for individual interviews. Until next time, they were back to being on their own.

Author Note: Check out my reddit page for more info on how to find my stories and the rest of this miniseries!

Last Part

I waited for his answer, knowing he’d certainly be a top. He was bi after all and had been in this position with multiple girls too. It was both hot and a little unsettling to think about comparing myself to others, especially girls.

“I’m down for either.” He whispered. 

“Oh…” I was surprised and he seemed to notice.

“Does that surprise you?” He laughed.

“Well you’re bi and really tall and also that thing is kinda…big, so I just figured ya know…” I trailed off. Noah smiled.

“I’ve done both. I want to do both with you.” He smiled and brushed his blonde hair from his face.

I blushed hard.

“Okay,” I thought it over, “I think I want to bottom tonight.” He nodded and a hungry look crossed his face, one filled with desire.

I reached over and got a bottle of lube from my dresser and handed it to him, “I don’t think we need a condom unless you want one?” He shook his head side to side and grinned.

I felt him sit up and pull at my sides, signaling me to flip over onto my stomach. I laid my head at the top of my bed and buried it comfortably as I felt hands spread my cheeks. The warm wetness of Noah’s tongue flicked across my hole.

“Ohhh mmmhh,” I moaned, having my ass truly eaten for the first time in my life. Mack’s quick move to lick his own cum out barely counted.

I felt as Noah’s tongue worked in and out of my ring. Every now and then I felt him lightly bite down on the extra skin of my plump cheeks, making me giggle, or kiss at my hole, worshipping it instead of eating it. I looked to the side at the clock after a while and realized he’d been eating me out for over ten minutes straight. 

“It tastes so good Olly. I love how smooth it is. I can see all of it. All of you…” 

I was a little surprised to hear Noah talking like this. It made sense, obviously he had a sexual side, but I’d just always known him as the mature, responsible, older brother figure. It made the turn even sexier. 

He lapped at my hole again, pushing his tongue as deep inside of me as it would go, making my eyes roll back. I felt his tongue literally scratching the inside of my ass. He was even amazing at this…

He sat up a bit and I looked back as he stroked his long meat a few times. He put lube on his finger and slowly pushed it inside of me. It slid right in after how long he’d been loosening me up with his tongue so after just a few seconds he pushed a second finger in. I groaned as he worked to loosen me up for at least a minute or two. Once again, his experience showed. He clearly knew how to take his time with this to prepare me.  I found myself wanting him to just get on with it but knew I should let him take the lead.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, care clear in his voice. 

“Good. You can put it in, I think,” I was ready for him.

“I’ll go slow, just communicate with me, okay? Tell me what feels good?” Noah moved to line up with my hole. I had never had someone so focused on my pleasure and us as partners like this. 

I felt his arm grip around my chest as he pushed his full weight down on me and slid his cock inside. 

“Oh uhhmm ughh ohhh,” I moaned in pure pleasure as he slid inch by inch inside of me. 

The time he’d spent loosening me up had made this a very different experience than other times I’d had sex. While it still hurt as I felt his dick pushing deeper and deeper into me, it seemed to slide in much easier than I expected and I was already feeling incredible euphoric sensations as it glided deep into the canal of my insides.

Eventually he stopped and held still. “Guess what? All in,” he panted into my ear, caressing me from behind. I couldn’t believe how quickly he’d gotten eight inches to slide inside of me.

“You’re so tight, it’s crazy, it feels like your body is strangling me down there,” he kissed the back of my head and rubbed my shoulder. 

This was more real talking than I was used to in these situations too, not rushed. I liked it. “It feels really full. Like I have this feeling in my throat as if it’s all the way up there.”

He laughed, still holding still and letting my insides expand around him, “I promise I’m not big enough to reach that far…” we both giggled.

He started to pull out just a little before pushing back in, working into a slow rhythm between the six and eight inch mark. I buried my mouth into the pillow and whimpered like a little kid. It was euphoria. He was buried so so deep and knew exactly how to gently poke at my insides without causing as much pain.

“Feel good?” He whispered.

“The best I’ve ever felt. I don’t know how you’re so good at this, it’s amazing…”

“Good, I want you to feel good. You’re so tight, like your butt is squeezing my dick to death. I don’t think I’ve ever been inside anything this tight and plump…” we both laughed. 

He started to speed up and I could tell he was beginning to pull and push more of his length in and out of me. The pain picked up slightly, but it was far outweighed by the incredible pleasure and deep connection I felt.

Lightning hit my stomach. “Oh fuck…I’m close,” I felt an orgasm coming on FAST without having touched myself yet.

“I want to finish at the same time and I’m not close yet. I’m gonna pull out.” Noah slowly came to a stop and pulled his full length out of me an inch at a time, leaving me feeling empty and gaping, my orgasm edging away.

“Oh my god, fuck…It feels so open,” I was flushed with embarrassment and vulnerability. 

He looked down and massaged my butt, “I won’t lie to you, it does look pretty open, it’s fucking hot,” I turned my head and saw him staring at my ass licking his lips, before he spanked my left cheek again, another yelp leaving my mouth. We were having genuine fun.

He turned me over to face him and positioned himself at my hole again, lifting my legs over his shoulders. I couldn’t believe how long we’d been at it, this must be what it’s really like to have sex, I thought to myself. 

Since he’d already pounded me for a while, his dick slid easily into me this time as he went full base to tip inside and bottomed out fast. “AGH.” I let out one long deep moan that lasted the few seconds it took for his full meat to reach the depth of my insides.

He pulled back and slowly started to work my hole again. At this angle facing me, I felt more pressure against that special spot inside, the pleasure overwhelming with almost eight inches of man pushing inside of me over and over and over. Noah bent down and kissed me, locking lips and our tongues together, and moaning into my mouth. We made out for a minute as he maintained a steady, tender, and slow rhythm fucking me, the sounds of my whining and whimpering mixed with his deep moans. 

“I’m close, Olly,” Noah whispered into my mouth as he pulled his face back and reached to start jerking me off. He quickly pulled and tugged at my dick as I felt his body start to tense up.

“Where do you want me?” He panted with panic.

“Inside. Please Noah,” I moaned just as my orgasm hit, “oh fuck…FUCK...” A rope of cum shot up and hit my neck, then my nipple.  Pool of my cum poured onto my stomach. Noah’s hand kept pumping me as I cried out in pure bliss. 

Noah’s body felt like it was seizing as he pushed unevenly, a few deep thrusts and groans, before I felt my insides go incredibly warm, like a literal fire had been lit inside me. “Mmmhhmm ahh…” he moaned, gritting his teeth in ecstasy. 

Heaving with exhaustion, he let go of my penis and slowly brought his hand up. Holding my gaze, he licked my cum that had accumulated on his fingers, taking my seed into his mouth and swallowing it to clean his hand. He slowly pulled out of my ass and this time I really felt gaping. 

I reached down and panicked a bit, feeling my hole be so open from him fucking me for at least thirty minutes straight. I felt that my entrance was wider than normal, sticky and wet with Noah’s monstrous load pouring out of me onto my bed. I remembered when Luke had finished into my mouth and realized that they both must cum a lot. I was exhausted by the at least hourlong affair we’d just been through. 

We laid in bed naked, both trying to catch our breath. Noah reached over and kissed me, sweet and tender this time.

“That was amazing,” he said.

“Yeah,” I was bordering on speechless, “that felt so good Noah.” He kissed me again.

“Do we have time to get you cleaned up before your parents get home?” I looked at the clock, it was already 9:30.

“If we go fast I think,”

Noah stood up and I got my first look at his butt. It was pale like Luke’s but much slimmer and smaller, which I’d guessed it would be, but it was really adorable, especially given how tall he was. It shaped his long legs. He had the faintest layer of dark blonde hair on his cheeks that I had to almost squint to see, not smooth like Luke but nowhere near like Declan’s.

“Shower?” He held his hand out to me. I stood up and handed him his underwear.

“Why do I need those?” He looked at me, puzzled.

Outside the old brick building, Boston was cooling as the calendar turned to Autumn; September and the New England Fall slowly settling in. The three incoming freshman boys had arrived this morning as part of a new class of international students being welcomed to the Forsyth Men’s School. The school welcomed a class of just 30 incoming freshman each year, but three received a full scholarship that covered the nearly six figure tuition, room, and board.

While the other 27 freshmen each year comprised the sons of politicians, donors, and other families with wealthy ties, three spots were reserved in Suite 10 for the elite trio selected purely based on the merit of their intellect, impact, and potential. With over 25,000 applicants annually, to be one of the three was an honor that itself would guarantee world-class jobs after graduation, regardless of how the four years played out.

Frederik, Dev, and Leo slowly unpacked their things across the three beds tucked into each corner of the quad, each of them focused on organizing their lives for the next year in relative silence. Each room at the school had traditionally been a quad from when the school admitted 40 students per year. Now down to just 30 in each graduating class, the rooms had been transformed to accommodate three beds plus a large couch in the fourth corner.

Frederik was meticulous in how he unpacked his things, carefully unboxing clothes and picture frames of his family. One of his biggest concerns coming into school had been on how he'd fit into living with others from very different backgrounds. His upbringing had been on the stricter side, with his parents expecting academic excellence every step of the way. His wardrobe largely consisted of sweaters, darker colored jeans and pants, and nicer jackets; all of which would translate well from Denmark to Boston from a weather and style perspective.

As he unpacked suitcases of linen pants, eclectic button downs, and v-neck shirts, Leo was quickly realizing that he may be unprepared for the coming cold of the harsher New England winter. He glanced over to Frederik and eyed up his frame, trying to gauge if he might be able to fit into some of his sweaters in an emergency snow situation. In doing so, he considered whether his new roommates would be similar to his friends back in Spain who were willing to share clothes, food, and just about anything; he hoped his new friends here would be just as unpretentious.

Dev had the fewest suitcases with him of the three. Packed tightly into his bags were mostly a series of plain, well-fitting tees, athletic shorts, and jeans. He couldn't even imagine the concept of preparing for changing seasons over the course of a school year, and only just bought his first jacket en route to the States. Like Frederik, he'd brought a number of small items to remind him of home; picture frames, small model sets of famous landmarks that his aunt and uncle had given him from their travels, and a necklace his mom had made for him before he left.

After arriving on various international flights that morning and unpacking all day, they finally paused at 8:00 for food breaks and to relax for the night.

“So amigos,” Leo kicked off, mixing in his native Spanish language, “where are you from?”

Dev brushed his jet black, tall, wavy hair, to the side, “India! My whole life; this is my first time outside the country.” He stood at just 5’8” (172cm), and had a small but toned frame from hard work in his parents’ home. He was excited for the adventure of being in Boston and was ready to embrace a ‘say yes to everything’ attitude being on the other side of the world.

“Perfecto, I’ve been dying to go!” Leo responded, “I’m from Madrid but spend my Summers in Northern Italy with my Uncle’s family.”

Leo had a light shadow of facial hair across his face that led up to messy brown hair that was parted in the middle. He had dark brown eyes and a gaze that seemed to pierce the soul. His skin was deeply tanned from growing up in southern Spain. He was 5’11” (180cm) of toned, hard, muscle; not bulky, but much stronger looking than Dev’s smaller frame. He easily could’ve modeled professionally.

“That’s really far to come, do you miss your family?” Frederik, quieter than the other two, was already feeling homesick; far outside of his comfort zone in a new country speaking a language he was less comfortable with than his native Danish.

“Not at all! I’m so excited to be here! I want the full experience!” Dev was practically bouncing off the walls. “Where are you from Fred? Do you go by Fred?”

Frederik curled his lip, considering whether he should embrace a new nickname for the sake of making a quick, new friend but decided against it, staying true to himself. “Nah, just Frederik if that’s okay. I’m from Denmark. My first time in the States too.”

He had a mysterious boyish charm, with combed over blonde hair and blue eyes. His skin seemed soft in a way that matched his shyer demeanor. At 5’9” (175cm) his height was in between his two roommates but he was by far the slimmest of the trio, and pale from the cold Nordic Winters. He'd grown up in a wealthier suburb, Charlottenlund, that was just north of Copenhagen, and his parents had held him to a high standard of success since birth.

Leo, who was clearly ready to embrace the role as their leader, leaned back on his bed and stretched his long legs out. “So what do you think of America so far? How was day one?” he asked with a playful glint in his dark eyes. He gestured towards the window, which framed a view of the quad, flush with trees beginning to change color.

Dev’s eyes lit up. “It’s amazing! I can’t wait to meet the other guys in our class!”

Frederik felt a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach. He cursed his parents for how they'd isolated him in private schools, tutoring sessions, and volunteer work, feeling out of place trying to make new friends. “It’s different. Classes start in two days so I’m just hoping to settle in and adjust to the time change by then.”

Leo shot him a look that was not unkind, but deeply perceptive. He saw the homesickness radiating from his new roommate. “We’re in this together! We have each others' backs!"

"Are you guys nervous at all to be using English so much?" Dev asked.

Leo shrugged, "eh, spending time all over Europe, I've already been doing it most of my life. It's that American slang that I'm worried about fucking up..."

"My parents made me speak it at home the last year to prepare for this..." Frederik said, "we learned it in school all my life so it's fine. You guys ever live with roommates before?"

"First time!" Leo sprang up, "built in amigos!"

Dev smiled, "just my brothers. I think should be different and a little easier."

As the guys continued getting to know each other, a knock rang out on their door followed by it springing open, with three older guys barging in.

“Hello boys!!! Welcome!” A 6’4” ginger with big, messy red hair raised his arms in a figurative welcoming embrace to the three of them, beaming a big bright smile from ear to ear under blue-ish green eyes that seemed ghoulish with charm. Leo made an immediate mental note of the freckles that dotted his pale cheeks and his thick Irish accent.

“I’m Kieran! We were you boys three years ago! Came for the annual tradition to welcome you to our old room!” He walked around the room shaking each of the 18 year olds’ hands. Behind him walked in two quieter men.

“I’m Adam, pleasure meeting you,” a dark skinned guy with short hair, light facial hair, and a strong jawline said in an English accent. He was also tall at 6’1” with defined biceps that stretched his shirt.

“Sup. Brett.” A 6’1” All American looking guy with Disney channel style features stepped in last, a cocky grin on his face. He had a huge smile with wavy hair parted to the left, perfectly styled and holding its form as he moved. Dev noticed that he seemed strong, with large biceps and a strong chest, but that he looked softer than Leo or Adam. As if he hit the gym just as much as they did but had a few more beers over his three years here than Adam had.

Kieran, Brett, and Adam, the welcoming committee and former full scholarship guys who were now starting their senior year at 21 years old, stood grinning at the three freshmen – Dev, Leo, and Frederik – who looked like deer caught in headlights, confused as to how these strangers had been able to burst into their new home.

“How did you get in here? Wasn’t the door locked?” Frederik seemed to be the only one nervous at the bigger group now interrupting what he’d hoped would be a quiet night.

“It’s tradition to keep a key all four years.” Adam responded calmly.

“Congratulations on getting here! We know how hard it is!” Kieran began, his Irish accent still thick and comforting, “so. Welcome to Forsyth. Tradition dictates we break the ice properly for you special three on night one!”

Brett, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk playing on his lips, chimed in, "And by 'properly,' he means ripping the bandaid off and welcoming you newbies to the club.” 

Adam, with a much more calming presence, offered a reassuring smile. "It's just a game, guys. Just a way to get to know each other. You can back out at any time if you want to.”

The three freshmen looked between each other, Leo intrigued, Dev excited, and Frederik shaking with nerves.

“BUT,” Brett pushed himself off the doorframe. “No restrictions. If you’re playing, you’re playing. That’s the tradition. And it’s never been broken so we aren’t gonna let it stop now.”

Frederik swallowed hard, his eyes darting between the older boys. "No rules? No restrictions?"

“None. I thought it was gay as fuck when I started here, but it’s tradition and you bond really quick.” Brett smirked again.

“Gay?” Dev turned his head, confused.

Kieran spoke again, trying to assuage the anxiety of the younger guys, “look guys it’s just truth or are…but without rules. No restrictions. Whatever truth is asked, you answer honestly. Whatever dare is given, you do it. Period. You can still back out of the game at any time. The point is to get everything out in the open, leave no room for secrets, and just become totally comfortable with each other…fast. No matter where it takes you. And it stays amongst the group of guys in our positions forever.”

“You can back out but you’re a huge bitch if you do!” Brett added, shooting a glare at his fellow seniors.

A beat of silence hung in the air. Dev was even more interested and ready to branch out of his comfort zone, Leo’s eyes darted between the other five guys, eyeing them up, and Frederik still looked like he might be sick.

“Ready? It’s best to just dive in headfirst,” Adam pulled off a backpack and took a bottle of vodka out of it, pouring six heavy pours into cups and passing them around. The three freshmen downed theirs quickly, each looking for some liquid courage and adrenaline.

Kieran gestured theatrically. “I’ll start. Adam, truth or dare? We’ll show you boys how it’s done,” he moved to sit on Frederik’s bed next to him as he started, sensing the Dane’s nerves and hoping his closer presence might calm him down.

Adam considered for a moment. "Truth."

"Alright," Kieran said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "What’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done with a girl?"

Adam chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. "A little bit of water sports, mate!”

The room erupted in laughter, even Frederik breathing out a small chuckle, easing the tension in the room slightly. Adam turned to Leo, “see? Easy!"

“Wait...who goes next?” Dev asked to no one in particular, looking around the room.

“Whoever was just picked, man...” Brett answered bluntly, as if it was the dumbest question he’d ever heard.

“Leo,” Adam turned to the Spaniard, the two of them the most toned and muscularly framed guys in the room.

“Truth.” Leo responded.

“Guys or girls?” A hush came over the room at the spotlight on him.

“For what?” Dev asked, naively confused at the question.

Brett again rolled his eyes, "are you three the most sheltered people in your entire countries?!"

Leo grinned, understanding the question. “Both,” he took a swig of his drink, unabashed in his response, “but only been with girls…so far.”

Kieran and Adam both nodded in response. Frederik and Dev immediately swung their heads towards their new roommate, realizing that he’d essentially just come out as bisexual.

For Dev, especially, the concept was something he was less familiar with, "wait really? Like...actually?"

"Sí! Really, really!"

“Your turn!” Leo asked

Dev seemed confused. “Huh? OH. Uh…truth.”

“Same question, amigo!" Leo beamed.

Dev froze. Suddenly his eagerness to be adventurous hit a brick wall of anxiety. He thought about his response. He'd never regretted anything he'd ever tried in life, always wanting to be the kinda guy who said yes to things and experienced what the world had to offer. His upbringing hadn't offered him as many opportunities as he'd hoped for to meet different kinds of people, which was his biggest draw in flying halfway around the globe for school. He took a deep breath, “Girls. But…I’m here in a new place, with new people, so if something happens…so be it.” 

The three older guys, even Brett, raised their eyebrows and smirked, admiring Dev for his honesty and openness.

“Trying new things will take you far here! That's the spirit!” Kieran grinned at him. Dev smiled back, proud of himself for at least pretending to be brave. Whether or not he'd actually be able to follow through if presented the opportunity was a completely different story.

From there, they went essentially in a circle following Adam’s original lead and putting each guy on the spot, Kieran proudly stating he was gay, Adam saying bi ‘since coming to school here (which earned an eyebrow raise from Leo), Frederik quietly responding ‘straight’ without the similar pledge of openness that Dev had expressed, and Brett answering ‘straight’ as if it should’ve been obvious.

Kieran studied the looks on the three freshmen faces across the room. They reminded him so much of Adam, Kieran, and Brett during their first weekend three years ago. They had come from polar opposite ends of every spectrum imaginable; personality, country, sexuality; and yet, over time, they fed off each other's energy and learned so much more about themselves because of it. He could already see the lines and molds of each freshman's current mindset and behavior; and how they'd end up blurring each other into growing into the best versions they could be, together.

Brett started off the next round and pointed at Dev, “what’s your number?”

“My what?” Dev shook his head, confused.

“He means how many people you’ve fucked,” Adam added, shooting Brett an annoyed look at his determined intention to corner the least street smart amongst them every chance he had.

“Oh…” Dev looked down at his hands. His face flushed slightly. “Zero. I have never uhhh…with anyone.” He looked up, a flicker of vulnerability mixed with something that looked like eager anticipation in his eyes. “So uh…I’m excited to…uh have fun.”

Leo’s eyes widened slightly at Dev’s frankness, before he grinned. “Brave, Dev! We will get you laid!” The young Indian guy smiled over to him, already looking to his Spanish roommate as a mentor.

“Okay same question to you Leo,” Dev pointed at him, skipping the ‘truth or dare’ question.

“6.” He wasted no time in responding before pointing at Adam. At this point, it was obvious the same question would continue.

“8. 6 girls, 2 guys,” Adam snuck a quick, subtle glance between Brett and Kieran. The tall ginger laid back slightly on Frederik’s bed and smirked back at him. All six guys noticed the look and all six of them were able to deduce what it likely meant. Frederik and Dev let out audible gulps at what it might suggest about the direction of the game.

“Kieran?” Leo asked, targeting the tall, devilish ginger who he’d been quickly infatuated by.

“28.”

“28!?” Leo choked on his drink and started coughing, “what?!”

Kieran giggled and struck an adorable, mischievous, smile, with an exaggerated shrug, his huge messy hair bouncing around on his head. Kieran painted at Brett and raised his eyebrows twice, knowing what was coming.

“Like 40 something.” Brett’s lips curled up on the edges, showing off his arrogance.

Dev, Leo, and Frederik looked between each other in awe.

“How many guys in there, mate?” Adam asked, pushing Brett’s buttons.

“Fuck off.” The straight Nebraskan snorted back, without directly answering his question.

“Guess that just leaves you little guy,” Brett pointed at Frederik, who seemed smaller than the rest of them despite being taller than Dev, because his slim frame and shy energy.

“Uhh…one. My girlfriend.” He seemed to shrink, embarrassed to have the attention on him.

“Aw that’s awesome man,” Kieran threw an arm around Frederik, again trying to help him loosen up. Frederik felt slightly uncomfortable with the tall gay guy getting cozy with him but it was far outweighed by his appreciation for someone clearly trying to look out for him in this strange situation tonight. The tension in his muscles eased a bit again and he let himself rest his head into Keiran’s shoulder before the redhead pulled his arm back.

“That relationship won’t last long now that you’re at school.” Brett laughed.

“Brett come on mate.” Adam shook his head and threw his hands up.

“Chill bro….okay, enough small shit, let’s get this going already,” Brett clapped his hands and moved to sit on the edge of Leo’s bed. Adam followed suit and took a place next to Dev.

“Alright, numbers are out,” Kieran announced. “Now for the fun part.” He pushed himself up to sit cross-legged on Frederik’s bed. “I’m going next. Brett, truth or dare?”

Brett grinned, leaning back on Leo’s bed, taking up most of the space. “Dare.”

Kieran’s blue-green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Okay, big man. Since you're so keen on showing the newbies how it’s done...I dare you to kiss the person you find most intimidating in this room. On the mouth. Ten seconds.”

Dev’s breath hitched. His gaze darted around the room. Leo sat up, even more intrigued now on where things were going.

Frederik’s anxiety immediately rushed back as he let out an audible gulp. “You said you’re straight though?”

“No rules, no restrictions.” Adam calmly expressed, not harshly, but sternly setting the stakes, “mostly. Obviously if you’re not okay with something, no one is going to force you…”

Frederik gave a quick nod, wanting to fit in and understanding he should be ready to expand his boundaries if he wanted to bond with his new friends.

Brett’s smirk didn’t falter, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned the faces. His gaze lingered on Adam for a fraction of a second, then shifted to Leo. Dev braced himself. Frederik looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

Finally, Brett met Leo’s intense gaze next to him. “Alright, Spaniard. No one intimidates me but you’ve objectively got this intensity thing going on. Come here.”

Leo didn’t hesitate, licking his lips. They sat face to face, inches apart. Adam watched with a faint smile. Kieran vibrated with anticipation and emerging horniness. Dev felt a strange pull of fascination, and Frederik tried to look away.

Brett reached out, cupping Leo’s face with one hand, and pulled him forward. Their lips met, Brett catching Leo off guard by immediately diving his tongue into the younger guy’s mouth. This wasn’t about being sensual or just addressing the dare, Brett wanted the freshman to remember him. He bit down hard on Leo’s lip, eliciting a soft moan. Brett tilted his head, deepening the kiss, as Leo responded more hungrily and raised his hand to rest on Brett’s thick arm. Ten seconds passed in a blur, the soft sounds of their lips connecting filling the room.

“Ten seconds,” Kieran chirped, checking his imaginary watch. “Nicely done, gents. Especially for the ‘straight’ one.” He made air quotes with his hands to tease Brett as he winked over at Dev.

When they broke apart, Brett was smirking, cocky and feeling himself from his performance for the group. He knew he’d gotten a response from Leo and that the younger guy would now be clamoring for more. Leo’s expression was harder to read – still intense, but his heart rate now elevated after kissing a man for the first time in his life. It had, without a doubt, confirmed for him that he was, in fact, bi.

Brett ignored him, breaking their gaze quickly and moving on. He ran a hand through his styled hair. “My turn.”

He turned to face the group, his eyes sweeping over them. He landed on Frederik. Frederik, who had been looking anywhere but at him, flinched slightly as Brett’s intimidating gaze settled on him.

“Freddy,” Brett said, his voice low and steady. “Truth or dare?” He emphasized the latter, suggestively, to the young Dane.

Frederik swallowed hard. Dev felt a pang of sympathy for him. He looked at Kieran sitting next to him, who offered a gentle nod of encouragement. He looked at Adam, who gave him a small, reassuring smile. His eyes turned to Brett, who waited, arms crossed.

“Dare,” Frederik whispered, barely audible.

A wave of surprise went through Dev. He expected Frederik to say Truth every time. Adam’s smile widened slightly. Kieran grinned broadly. Even Brett looked mildly impressed. Frederik’s cheeks were bright red, but there was a new, tiny spark of determination in his blue eyes.

Brett nodded slowly, a flicker of respect in his gaze. “Okay, Frederik. Take off your shirt.” The All American guy knew he could break things wide open but that for now he needed to take it slow. The more time it took to get to where the senior wanted to end up, the higher the chances that everyone would stay in the whole time.

Silence followed. It wasn’t the most extreme dare thus far, not compared to the kiss, but for Frederik, it still felt like a lot. His eyes widened, darting from Brett to his shirt, then to Dev. It was just a simple t-shirt, but the thought of starting to undress with eyeballs glued to him made him queasy.

“Just my shirt?” Frederik asked, his voice still quiet.

“Just your shirt,” Kieran confirmed before Brett could respond, a hint of softness in his tone. “For the rest of the game, or until someone dares you to put it back on.”

Frederik hesitated for another long moment. He looked at Kieran, who was still smiling warmly, “okay that seems easy enough…”

Slowly, his fingers went to the hem of his t-shirt. He pulled it up, his gaze fixed on the floor. The fabric clung briefly before his head emerged. He pulled his arms free, holding the folded shirt against his chest for a moment before letting it fall onto the bed beside him.

He sat with his shoulders slightly slumped. His chest was hairless and pale, his ribs faintly visible. He was clearly uncomfortable, but he told himself it was no different than going to the pool with his friends, despite the more intimate setting here.

“There you go, man,” Kieran said gently, reaching out to clap him lightly on his bare shoulder. “See? Not so bad.”

Frederik flinched at the older, bigger guy’s touch, which Kieran took mental note of. Brett watched the two of them interact, his expression unreadable.

Frederik managed a small, shaky smile. “Okay,” he breathed, still looking down.

“Your turn, Frederik,” Leo prompted softly.

Frederik looked up, his eyes scanning the room again. He seemed to gain a tiny bit of confidence from having completed the dare. His gaze stopped on Dev. Dev felt a familiar flutter of nerves and excitement.

Author Note: Visit my reddit page to check out other stories I've written and more info on how to find them!

I sank down one last time, feeling Andres’ dick bury itself deep as his hips jerked and stuttered against the smooth, skinny curve of my butt. It felt like I could feel heat inside me, even with the latex of the condom providing a protective layer between his seed and my insides. 

“You good?” I asked him, smiling down with my hands gripping his shoulders.

“Uhhhh-mazing, god, Bennett. You’re amazing.” Andres grinned up at me with these soft, sweet eyes. I’d already orgasmed ten minutes ago but had kept riding him until he finished, growing a little bored but never wanting a reputation on campus of being someone who didn’t please their partner.

I hopped off his wiggly, hard dick and swung my 145 pound, 5’10” frame of smooth, lean muscle and skin off to the side of the bed. My light brown hair was a wrecked, flowy mess across my forehead, the dramatic middle part completely destroyed from how he’d gripped it earlier. Without any gel on hand, I used some sweat from my skinny boy abs to readjust my head; my hair was my mojo, after all and I couldn’t leave with it a disaster. Stretching like a cat, with my arms overhead, I let him get another look at the tiny dusting of hair between my pecs, which trailed down into a defined, narrow happy trail.

“Well, that was fun!” I said with a pep in my step. “Very fun!” I’d been looking for a little kick of energy to finish out the day and sex was always the best mood booster.

He peeled the condom off carefully, tying and tossing it toward the trash can in the corner of his tiny Toronto apartment bedroom. For a second he just looked at me, that usual post-fuck smirk on his face, but then it softened into something more serious. Suddenly, I wanted to throw some clothes on and get the hell outta there. I knew that look. He sat up at the top of his bed and reached out a hand, interlacing his calloused hand around my smoother and smaller one.

“Bennett,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “I think I might love you.”

My brain short circuited. I slowly pulled my hand away, trying to be easy and kind in my movements. My uncut dick, which was pretty thin but usually about 6.5” (16 cm) hard, had retreated down to just about two inches (5cm), resting soft and exposed against my lightly trimmed pubes. My little guy probably felt as awkward and exposed as I did right now.

My heart gave a weird, uncomfortable lurch with confusion. “Andres…what…are you talking about?” I asked, keeping my tone gentle. I reached back over and squeezed his hand because I wasn’t one to be rude or careless, but my head was spinning. We’d just met at a college party two weeks ago and had fucked a few times, but I couldn’t even remember if we’d hung out fully sober yet.

I waited for him to laugh it off with a ‘psych!’ because this dude couldn’t possibly be serious. “I mean it, Bennett. These last two weeks have been so special. I love your laugh so much and I can’t stop thinking about you.” He paused, waiting for me to say something but my face probably looked frozen with shock. “And I know it’s stupid, but when you speak in French, it’s so cute.”

I swallowed hard and tried to remain calm and open, but my pale cheeks now felt warm from nerves rather than sex. “Dude, it’s been two weeks…” I said softly. “You’re a cool guy, but I don’t know anything about you. I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea, man.”

He pulled his hand back slowly, like it hurt to do it, and his shoulders slumped. “Don’t be an asshole. We’ve been hanging out for two weeks. I know you feel it too!”

“Woah, woah, woah. Chill out. I’m not trying to be rude,” I cut in. “We don’t even know each other enough for you to realize that I’m leaving in two days for a spring semester abroad in London! I thought we were on the same page. I never said anything about more.”

His jaw dropped. “You’re…leaving me?”

The next twenty minutes were me trying to calm him down through tears, while also looking for any possible opportunity to get the hell outta there. When I finally stepped out into the Toronto night, I felt guilty, but I wasn’t even sure if I needed to? The guy was sweet, but way too attached for two weeks of hooking up. I had a plane to catch. London and adventure were waiting. New cities, new people, new mistakes. 

Note to self: make sure the next hookup understands the stakes!

---

Two Days Later

I could barely contain the excitement racing through my veins the entire flight over the Atlantic. So much for sleeping on the redeye; even if I’d wanted to, there was no fucking way I could’ve risked dozing off and missing the descent. The green countryside and little villages stretching out in the distance as we approached Heathrow were my first glance of a continent other than North America. I actually called it Europe to my neighbor on the plane, an older woman, but she not so respectfully assured me this was ‘no longer Europe’. Geopolitics weren’t my strong suit and I wanted to retort with some kinda snarky comment, but decided against it given I wasn’t sure I even knew what I was talking about to argue with her.

I was twenty years old, fresh out of my sophomore year back at the University of Toronto, and bound for the best four or five months of my life. I’d been planning to be abroad since middle school and the UK seemed like the perfect home base for a season of travels. Easy airport access, hot guys, and cheap flights awaited me!

I grabbed my two massive suitcases from baggage claim, listening to the old, tattered wheels rattle loudly on the shiny floor as I wheeled them through the arrivals hall. People rushed past in every direction: businessmen in sharp suits who’d rolled right off an overnight from the States to meetings, families trying to wrangle kids sprinting in every direction, and people like me; kids experiencing a new land for the first time. I was grinning so wide that my cheeks ached; my brain felt alive despite the sleep deprivation.

Taking the Heathrow express straight into London, the train glided smooth and fast while I pressed my forehead to the cool window, watching London unfold. Green fields gave way to endless rows of brick houses, double-decker buses, and eventually the distant skyline of the city teasing me. I switched to the tube once I got to the city, easily navigating the complex but simple transit system and dragging my suitcase onto a crowded line toward Mayfair, where I’d be staying this spring.

I couldn’t help but feel like a main character in a movie. What would the needle drop have been in my own film? Maybe something by the Beatles, given we were in London? No, better yet, a more modern British artist like the 1975 or Harry Styles? Why not all of them? If I had my way this spring, I’d be making so many memories that I’d need hundreds of songs to light up the soundtrack of my life to come.

People my age, kids, and tourists much older than me spilled out of restaurants and shops in every direction. It was cold and gray out, but given the improvement over Toronto weather this time of year, I was ready to treat late January like it was the summer already. I finally reached an unmarked door matching the address of the email I’d received and used a code to enter, venturing up the two flights of stairs with my bags and finding my new home. This was the flat I’d be sharing with my new roommate. The building was part of a new program that the university was piloting with students like me, pairing a local student with one studying abroad for the semester, as a means for cultural exchange in both directions.

The email was blank on instructions of how to actually access my new flat, so I knocked on the door and hoped someone might be inside. I stopped dead when it finally creaked open.

He stepped back towards a shelf on the wall that was already filled with picture frames of guys rowing crew in rivers around the world. He had to be a few inches taller than me and…those broad shoulders! Jesus Christ! It didn’t take much to imagine him rowing those longboats up and down, with sweat pouring off his brown, short hair. The white v-neck tee was stretched tight, fitting firmly over his chest but bulging around his muscles. My mouth went dry and my stomach instantly flipped with an undeniable crush.

“You must be Bennett,” he said, voice smooth and proper, that crisp British accent wrapping around every word. When he reached out his hand, his grip was firm, warm, and confident. He clearly had his life together and it even felt safe to assume that maybe even came from money or power. “I’m George. Welcome to London, mate. I’m your host for the semester.”

I kept my usual charming, flirty grin in place. “Bennett, yeah. I’m uhh, I’m from Quebec City. Toronto for university. God, you’re…uh…this place is unreal already. The dorm, the city, you…uh, I mean the whole setup.” Smooth, Bennett. Real smooth. “Putain, pourquoi je continue de parler…”

“Oh.” He just smiled wider, that proper grin crinkling the corners of his eyes, and helped me haul the suitcases fully inside like it was nothing. “You’re a francophone, mate?”

“Oui. It’s my heritage.” I rubbed my scalp. My mom had told me growing up that I had the bad habit of switching over to French any time I got nervous…she wasn’t wrong.

While I unpacked, pulling out hoodies and shirts to hang in our shared closet, George sat down at his desk and maintained a perfect, upright posture, typing away on his laptop. The screen was dark from the side, like he had a privacy covering on it, but given how intent he seemed, I imagined he was either working or doing something for school.

Eventually, he refocused on me and explained our setup as I organized my new British life. His voice was ‘posh’ when he spoke and he seemed a natural at making strangers feel welcomed. “I signed up for this hosting program last summer. I had a study-abroad mate in here in the fall and now it’s you. It keeps things interesting and I have the benefit of getting more from my own experience.”

“Versus what?” I pushed, without taking my eyes off the closet.

“Well.” He steadied his voice. “Instead of some boring British piss head.” 

I could get behind that. Meeting new kinds of people was pretty interesting, after all. “Who was the ‘me’ of the fall?”

“An Australian bloke. He was a lot of fun. I couldn’t always keep up in the pub with him, but I certainly tried. You seem like you’ll keep me on my toes too, with that pup energy you’ve got.””

I tossed a pair of my slim black jeans into the drawer, glancing over my shoulder at him. He looked like a proper male lead in a 90s rom-com. My crush was already in full swing; I could feel it. “Is that the vibe I give off? I’ll try not to disappoint,” I said, voice light and flirty without trying too hard. “I’m planning on making the most of every single day here, so it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Any big plans while you’re here?” George asked.

“Tons of travel lined up! I thought London was a good home base.” I tossed a stack of hoodies, unfolded, in the back of the closet

He raised an eyebrow, that handsome face lighting up with genuine interest as he leaned forward. “Oh? Where to first, then? Got a list?”

We kept chatting while I finished unpacking, the conversation flowing easy as I folded shirts and arranged my toiletries in our tiny ensuite bathroom. “I’m hitting all the big touristy ones first. Rome, Madrid, Amsterdam, Paris. I want tapas, clubs, weed and…” I trailed off. When do I come out?

“What about history?” George nudged back with a cheeky grin. He either missed how I ended my sentence or was too proper or innocent to care.

“Yeah, history too. Which’ll be more fun with some weed!” I beamed and flipped my hair.

George took it all in, nodding slowly, his muscular frame relaxed but attentive. He stood up eventually. “You sound very free-spirited,” he said. “I’m used to more structure, even if I don’t love it. My family raised me that way. Posh lot, rowing crew every morning at dawn, all the proper expectations. But I do love a good spur-of-the-moment decision now and then. In another life, I think I would be more like you.”

I wondered if he meant it in a conceiting or pitiful manner, but he seemed genuine despite his clear status. “I hear that, man.” I did my best ‘bro’ impression.

“Would you like to go to the pub? Food and pints on me.” George offered and I nodded.

The afternoon had slipped into early evening by the time we wrapped up the unpacking chat. My side of the room felt like home now with posters of hockey players dotting the walls and my suitcase shoved under the bed, ready for the next adventure. George clapped his hands together once 6PM hit, eschewing us out into the dark streets of London.

The walk to the pub was only five minutes, but it felt like stepping into a living postcard. The streets around Mayfair were alive despite the rougher weather and the hustle and bustle of tourists reminded me that this was a truly world-class city. George walked beside me, his 6’1” frame easy and confident, pointing out little details about restaurants and shops he liked (or as he kept putting it, the ones he ‘fancied’.). I stole glances the whole way, my crush deepening with every proper laugh he gave.

The pub itself was classic perfection: dark wood beams, low ceilings that made everything feel cozy and intimate, a football match playing softly on the TV in the corner, and locals laughing over pints at the bar. We slid into a booth in the back, the worn leather seats creaking under us. George ordered us two proper pints of lager; cold, foamy, golden perfection, and we clinked them the second they arrived.

“Cheers to your first night in London,” he said, that nice smile flashing. “May it be the start of many unforgettable ones.”

“Here, here, ay!” I clanked back. 

We settled back into some banter, catching up on our respective fall semesters and what we were studying. It turned out that he was the captain of the crew team, so I had a feeling he was more than just big muscle. 

“What are your hobbies?” George asked me. He sounded a bit like my parents. Every word he chose was the most traditional, conservative synonym: ‘hobbies’, ‘goals’, ‘ambitions’. It was a bit like being stuck next to a guidance counselor.

“Ehh.” Should I say drinking, smoking, fucking around, and literally fucking? I decided against it. “I play hockey for fun. I like movies. I dunno, man. Pretty normal guy, I guess. I don’t have much experience with travel though, so trying to change that this spring.”

“Right, the travel.” George nodded again. “You should sprinkle in some new places you hadn’t considered.”

“Like?” I questioned him.

“My favorite place I’ve ever been was Iceland. Gorgeous country.” George seemed excited when he talked about it and downed the rest of his pint with ease. Apparently, he’d learned a thing or two from the Australian that came before me.

“I’ll do Iceland,” I said, locking eyes with him. “But only if you come with me on some of these trips. Deal? I could use a proper European guide who knows how to row a boat if we end up in trouble.”

George’s nice smile widened into something warmer, almost flirty in that very posh and proper way of his. “Gladly,” he said without hesitation, his deep voice making the word feel like a promise. “I could use a break from the books and the crew schedule. Sounds like a plan, Bennett.”

Over the next couple of hours, the beers kept coming; round after round, light and easy, the conversation flowing like we’d known each other for months instead of hours. The pub noise wrapped around us like a warm blanket; laughter from the bar, clinking glasses, the occasional cheer for a goal on the screen. I leaned forward on my elbows, my light brown hair falling dramatically across my forehead as I got more animated, telling him all about my travel dreams in detail.

George listened intently, his muscular forearm resting on the table, short hair catching the warm pub lights as he nodded along. He took a slow sip of his pint, that dashing, gentlemanly smile never fading. “You really don’t plan far ahead, do you?” he repeated, but this time with a little more warmth, like he was genuinely impressed by it.

“The fact that I have a trip booked to Venice almost four months from now is probably the farthest scheduled out thing I’ve ever had…” I tilted my head, flirting just enough to test the waters. “Enough about me, man! Got any wild stories of your own?”

“Afraid not.” George said. But I couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth. “Just a couple sloshed nights here with my mates.”

I laughed along, sharing my own wilder Toronto nights. He said he wasn’t above going out, especially if the right crowd was involved, and that his crew mates sometimes even dragged him to clubs. The beers loosened us both, the conversation dipping into deeper but still light territory; his family’s expectations versus my free-wheeling, blue collar parents’ hopes that I just stayed out of jail. Every time he smiled that nice, proper smile, my crush flared hotter. He was straight, obviously, I had to remind myself.

Eventually, after our fourth or fifth pint, which had done quite a number on my much smaller size, I figured it was time. I set my glass down, looked him right in those warm, handsome eyes, and said it straight. “Look, I should probably tell you something before we get to know each other better. Sorry to be forward, this is never not-awkward, but just so ya know, I’m gay. Hope that’s not going to be an issue with us rooming together all semester. I don’t want it to be weird or anything.”

George settled back in the booth and for the first time tonight, took a second to process what I’d said before responding. It suddenly dawned on me that he was so practiced in small talk and networking, that every other topic of conversation since we’d met had just been him on autopilot. It wasn’t that he was insincere, but he was just simply so polished in the art of meeting new people because of his privilege that he always knew the right thing to say.

But I’d finally whipped a slap shot at him that he hadn’t expected. “Oh. Uh. I don’t care, that’s fine,” he finally said. His voice was more natural this time, lacking the superfluous adjectives or perfect wording. Then he quickly regained his polished tone. “As long as you don’t fancy how I look, of course.”

I froze and my face went red in an instant. Had it been that obvious that I was crushing on him? And did he really expect any living human to not be attracted to him!? Straight or not, was he really insinuating he didn’t stare at himself in the mirror and realize he was a fucking god!?

George quickly let out the most genuine, deep sound I’d heard from him all night, bellowing a full laugh and taking another massive sip of his beer. “I’m just kidding, Bennett. Relax, mate. I don’t care if you’re gay. Or if you check me out. I’m not barbaric, nor am I naive!”

I let out a breath and laughed too, my charming side kicking back in full force. “Thank god,” I shot back, leaning in with a wink, “you really got me worked up and worried for a second. Cause you definitely have to realize you’re hot. Anyone with eyes would think so. But don’t worry. I’m not gonna make it weird.”

He laughed again, cheeks flushing just a touch under that handsome face, his muscular shoulders shaking. “That’s fine,” he said, warm and easy, with no weirdness at all. “Really. No issue here. I think we’re going to have quite a bit of fun this semester.” He finished with one final line that threw me off for the first time all night. “And go ahead and make it weird, for all I care. We’ll have some fun.”

Oh?

We clinked our glasses one last time and my mind swirled with the promise of what was to come: London, adventure, new cities, and a roommate who already felt like a lifelong friend.

That first week of classes delivered exactly what I needed: easy living. I’d worked my butt off the first 3 semesters of uni in Canada to set myself up for a cake walk of a semester abroad and those initial sessions had come through big time. The hardest part seemed to be understanding the thick British accents of my professors, so I started pushing George to ratchet up the ‘Britain’ in our room to improve my listening skills.

Mornings always started with me waking up at 4:30am to George heading off for the gym, me drifting back off, lazily snoozing my alarm at 8am, and then finally dragging my skinny ass out of bed by 9:30. 

There was an adorable coffee shop right outside our flat that I frequented twice a day with a cute barista named Jessica who opened the cafe. By Wednesday, she knew me by name, and I’d subtly withheld the fact I preferred dick, playing dumb and gladly accepting a free latte Friday morning after batting my eyes at her. 

Hey, I wasn’t a liar, but I wasn’t above staying quiet!

I’d adjusted to the gray and rain quickly, getting a ton of use out of my bright yellow, long jacket, and loving the whirl and dryness of the tube. This was what I’d signed up for! A real city with real public transit! I didn’t even mind the packed mornings, cramming in next to strangers and crying babies.

By Thursday night I was wrecked, sprawled on the sofa with my laptop open to a web-based discussion group prompting me for my thoughts on a reading. I was already checked out and ready for the weekend, but just had to get through five fucking sentences until freedom!

George had come back from his second time in the gym by 6pm, looking like a chiseled, masculine model. I couldn’t tell if his hair was damp from sweat or a fresh shower but either way I would’ve been happy to rub my nose in it. That was a man I would’ve gotten on my knees to serve any fucking day of the week…

“Bennett,” he said, voice warm and friendly, like always. “First full weekend. Let me take you around London tomorrow.”

I looked up. “Is that a date?”

He laughed with a rich chuckle. “Keep your expectations low. But I think we can do a pint and a meal along the way.”

“Je te mangerais comme mon repas…” I mumbled back.

“Come again?” He rose the side of his mouth with a tiny grin. 

“I’ll cum for you any time, Georgey.” I teased.

He’d grown used to my little, mysterious French barbs and probably even knew they were a little dirty. Luckily, I figured out fast that we were aligned on our flirty nature. Underneath the post shell was a regular old kid just like me. 

For once, I didn’t snooze my alarm Saturday morning (granted, it was set for 10am). George was out, likely wrapping up his workout for the day, but I wanted to show him I was excited for our day together, so I quickly started getting ready. I stood in front of our long mirror and took a look at myself, feeling good after week one, and finally having adjusted to the time change. My hair was a bit of a disaster but that was pretty standard, and thankfully I still looked just as slim as back home (for now). Even though my package was pretty small when it was soft, it still bulged in my tiny, size small black trunks because of my slim frame (lucky me for good genes!). I pulled on my favorite jeans, a soft green hoodie, and sat on my bed scrolling until George finally returned home around 10:30.

“Ready, Bennett?” he asked, flashing that handsome, easy smile. “Surprised you woke up.”

“I can get outta bed if I have something, or someone, who’s worth it!” I shot back. “I’m ready for my tour, your majesty.”

We only had to walk out our front door for George to figuratively drag me along to start our adventures. We worked through all the touristy stops nearby, like long shopping streets and Leicester square, where street performers played live music and tourists mingled around their guides. We took our time, and George gave me an in-depth lesson about the history of sites that today held fast food restaurants or fast fashion brands, but were once great buildings of historical consequence.

Three hours later, after a coffee, our second afternoon stop was ‘Neal’s Yard’, which George described as a not-so-hidden technically-hidden courtyard full of tiny shops, colorful bricks, and a wine bar he loved. He admitted it was a bit touristy, but reminded me that sometimes places became famous for a reason!

The little courtyard was pure magic; brightly painted buildings and hanging flower baskets spilling greenery even in late winter; all of which made me forget we were in the middle of the busiest part of one of the biggest cities on earth. We ducked into his beloved tiny wine bar and with a wave of his hand, a girl our age ushered us to a high top in the corner that had a ‘reserved’ place card on it. 

“What’s your deal with her?” I asked him.

“What do you mean?” He smiled wryly, knowing what I was getting at.

“I feel like there’s a story there. How long have you known her?” I pushed onward.

“Well.” He held up two fingers to her from across the bar and mouthed ‘red’, signaling our wine order. “We’ve been mates since primary school. But the relationship has changed a bit through the years.” George flashed me his first ever wink and my stomach swirled.

She appeared a second later with two tall flutes of something sparkling. “Here you go. For your celebration.” She winked at George and disappeared in an instant.

“Champagne?!” I picked it up, questioning. “For what?!”

“Does one need a reason for champagne?” George was clearly of a different social class.

When it touched my lips, I was hit with the bubbliest, most delicious nectar I’d ever tasted. This was no $5 sparkling Prosecco and now I was praying George was picking up the tab, otherwise I was fucked with a trip to Paris on the horizon.

The wine loosened us both up and set way for what was to be a long night of drinks. The champagne turned into those two glasses of red, which in turn became another two. By the time we left, almost two hours later, we were both feeling hungry for an early supper.

“Alright,” he said finally, standing and stretching. “Soho awaits. Try to keep up.”

“Un dur à cuire.” I winked at him.

“I will assume that translates to ‘thank you for paying the bill, George, you are the best.” He chuckled.

“Exactly!” I playfully retorted, feeling a little flushed from the buzz I had going.

We spilled back out into the courtyard and bopped our way through Soho. The streets were narrow and alive, with rainbow flags moving in the breeze, vintage shops spilling clothes onto the sidewalks, and music blaring from bars that were coming alive in the 6PM hour. George knew every corner. We ducked into a tiny record store that I was surprised he knew about, then he took us into a vintage shop, where he made me try on a two-hundred pound leather jacket, that I dreamt of being able to afford one day. 

Next came a cheese shop on the corner, which reminded me of home. The place was tiny and full of smells, wheels, and wedges stacked on wooden shelves, and a chalkboard menu listing dairy that I didn’t recognize. We sampled everything; sharp cheddar that made my eyes water, creamy brie that melted on the tongue, and a smoky spread that George fed me on a little cracker.

“Open,” he said softly, and I did, letting his fingers brush my lower lip as he placed the bite in my mouth. The taste exploded and I groaned around it, eyes half-closed.

“God, that’s good,” I moaned, licking my lips slowly. “You keep feeding me and I’ll do whatever you say.”

He smiled but didn’t fully take the bait. “Careful what you wish for.“

We had fun, living out my fantasies of a movie montage in a legendary neighborhood, but our stomachs kept begging us for more food.

“What would you like to eat?” George asked around 7PM.

“Are you picking up that tab, too?” I shamelessly asked. It was becoming quite clear that money wasn’t an issue for my roommate.

“I am. If you’re a good boy.” George smirked.

My mouth watered. He knew what he was doing. I knew it was just a fun ruse but the banter was what I lived for. “Fuck you. Don’t tease me.”

“I have no idea what you mean!”

“I want French food. The food of my people.” I requested, knowing I could run up quite the bill on French in a neighborhood like this.

“In Quebec? Isn’t the food of your people fried cheese curds?” George taunted back.

“Poutine…” I replied. “And even your stuck-up, royal ass would love it.”

He shook his head, smiling, and nodded me toward a tiny cafe. “I don’t think you’d like my royal ass if I ate a bowl of poutine.”

I laughed hard, respecting the play between flirty and ‘straight’. He’d gotten me good, there.

Inside the restaurant, I noticed a table full of queer people drinking wine, who immediately glanced in our direction. George put his big hand lightly on my lower back to guide me toward the bar, and their eyes went up in surprise, probably jealous of my position. “Am I your side piece?”

“You could be more than that, Bennett. Don’t sell yourself short.” George whispered back. I knew he was joking; just trying to hype up my confidence, but what he still didn’t realize was that confidence was not an issue I had. If anything, my ego had gotten me in trouble more times than I could count.

“See that bloke over there?” George murmured across the table, nodding to a guy around our age at the table. “He’s been eyeing you since we walked in. Reckon you’ve pulled him in already.”

Time to ratchet up the heat. “Too bad I’m here with the hottest tour guide in London. Eyes only for you tonight, George.”

He just chuckled softly and actually reached across the table to ruffle my hair like I was a kid. “You’re drunk. Finish your pint and let’s get you home before you cause trouble.”

Unfortunately for him, we stayed longer than we planned after that, with yet another round of drinks. He did in fact end up needing to help steady me on the walk back.

As the sky reached its full darkness and the city lights started to sparkle, we wandered toward the Thames. The river path was quieter now, lit by those classic ornate lamps that made things feel cinematic, with Big Ben looming in the distance like a postcard someone had brought to life. We walked slowly, as my head turned to a warm, fuzzy glow. My hand kept finding excuses; brushing his arm when I pointed something out, playfully shoving his shoulder, or stumbling a bit (genuinely) and using him as a crutch to stay upright. He never pulled away, instead gently redirecting me. He even let a soft laugh when I pretended to stumble for the second time, so I could lean into his side.

“You know,” he said after a while, voice thoughtful and a little thick from all the drinks, “I wasn’t sure what to expect when they told me I’d have a Canadian roommate for the semester. I wondered if it would be a bit boring but you’re different. In a good way. Easy to be around.”

I bumped his hip with mine, the alcohol making me brave. “Different how? Cooler? Cuter? Funnier? Making you question your sexuality?”

He snorted, the sound turning into a full laugh that echoed over the water. “All of the above, probably.” My heart skipped a beat for a second. “Oh, except for that last one.” He winked yet again as I bit my lip in frustration. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The walk back to Mayfair felt endless in the best possible way, as every step made my world and the actual one tilt just a bit more. I knew George was off limits but these were the sorts of gray lines that I loved to toe. I often wondered if I ‘got off’ more from this relentless, impossible chase than if I’d actually caught the dashing prince. And while that may have been a bit fucked, I was more than happy to ride that rush of a pursuit.

It was pretty clear that we were both piss drunk when we got back into our room. I couldn’t stop laughing, feeling the high of finally fulfilling my adventure dreams abroad. Unfortunately that laughter was a bit too strong because the second I stepped into our room, I tripped on something and started falling face first…until a hand gripped my arm, stopping me.

“Woah, mate!” George single handled pulled my lanky self back to my feet. “Shoes off and into bed, you’re a proper mess!”

I kicked them off, giggling like an idiot, then turned and wrapped my arms around his waist, face pressed right into the solid wall of his chest. He smelled like beer and I could feel the huge muscular wall of his back. “You’re the best,” I mumbled against his shirt. “Best roommate. Best tour guide. Best everything.”

His hands settled lightly on my shoulders, not pushing me away but not pulling me closer either. The touch was gentle, almost tender. “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, you know that?” There was no judgment, just fond amusement laced through the posh accent. “It’s charming, honestly. Flattering, even. But hands to yourself, yeah? Let’s get you sorted for bed.”

He turned the harsh overhead lighting off and flicked on the soft bedside lamp, which barely illuminated our room. As I plopped onto my bed, trying to get myself together, he started unbuttoning his shirt. The fabric parted to reveal the solid planes of his chest, the trail of dark hair leading down from his belly button, and dense, thick abs. His core was actual muscle, unlike mine, which only really showed because I was thin. I watched openly, no filter left, and stared slack jawed at his body.

He caught me staring and just smiled, then turned slightly, unzipped his chinos, and let them drop to the floor. Damn, he was hot…

His underwear, a simple pair of black briefs that clung to the rock solid curves of his glutes, shockingly followed a second later. He bent to step out of them, giving me a wide open view of his ass in all its glory. Big and muscular, with the cheeks rounded, powerful, and sculpted from endless hours rowing crew. A coat of soft brown fur dusted the perfect curves, and I was suddenly left realizing that my whiskey dick had still somehow found enough strength to stand up in my pants. 

His ass was so unmistakably masculine; strong, firm, furry, and alpha. I wanted so badly to drop to my knees right there and press my face into that perfect, manly crack.

He straightened fully, completely naked now, and turned his head to catch me staring, perfectly and cruelly hiding the front view from my sight line. A surprised laugh rumbled out of him. “Enjoying the view, are we?”

I didn’t even try to hide it. Instead I yanked my shirt off in one clumsy motion, stood up, and shoved my jeans and briefs down together, stepping out until I stood there completely naked too. Except I didn’t bother to hide anything, letting my lean, tight, toned body be on display. I was slim but I was no pushover, falling somewhere between twink and twunk. I looked down as George also did, at my 6.5” (16 cm) uncut dick standing out and curving up and to the left. We both shared a small grin and he finally looked a little shy for once.

“Why don’t we put that away, tiger.” George said as he finally pulled on athletic shorts and turned fully around, covering his front. “I don’t need to see that, buddy.” He was mature enough to not be grossed out but he, without a doubt, wasn’t interested in it either.

“Fineeeeee.” I pouted, turning as he had been and scrounging around in my dresser for pajama pants.

I was still trying to show off a bit, just to make sure he didn’t have a single bit of interest. My ass was small and tight; boyish next to his, but I knew it looked good. It was perky, smooth, and probably wouldn’t have freaked a straight guy out like his own might’ve.

George bursted out laughing again as I pulled pants on. “Christ, Bennett. You’ve got the most adorable, little butt I’ve ever seen on a man.“

Cockiness flared through my drunken haze. I planted my hands on my hips. “You should fuck me then,” I shot back, voice edged with real frustration but still light and playful. Once again, I wasn’t even that serious, but the back and forth flirting fueled my entire being. “If my butt is so adorable, you should see how good it feels to put your dick in it.”

He laughed harder, shaking his head as he climbed into his bed. “You think you’re so bad, but you’re nowhere near as much trouble as the Australian was. He was actual chaos. This is easy. I can handle the gay banter all season long, mate. You’re just torturing yourself.”

I had to smile, having met a bit of my own bullshit in my new friend. “I can push harder, if needed.”

“Go to sleep. Before you say something you’ll regret in the morning.”

I flopped onto my own bed with an exaggerated sigh. The room spun gently, the distant hum of London, a city that also never slept, ringing out through our window.

“Night, George,” I mumbled, already drifting, the day’s adventures still buzzing pleasantly in my veins. “Today was so much fun. Thanks for doing it.”

“Night, Bennett,” he replied softly. “Sweet dreams.”

Visit my reddit page to check out other stories I've written and more info about this series, which will be 25 parts long!

The whiskey slid down TJ’s throat, coating him in a warmth of relief that he was finally done with another week alone. His life was in shambles. He’d skipped out on work at least half of his shifts the last two weeks and felt alone after his four year relationship with Emma had come to an end.

The first time he’d dated a girl in his twenty-nine years of life, and he’d sworn that she was going to be the one. That was right up until the earthquake that she’d been cheating on him hot two months ago, leading to a blowout fight and her being the one to end things while he begged for another chance. He hated her and how it made him feel about himself because of it. And he hated the prick who’d been the side piece even more…some guy named Rob who she apparently jumped straight into a relationship with the second things ended.

He shook the ice around in his glass, trying to signal to the bartender for a refill. He’d spent the last two days digging into the new guy’s social media and knew he frequented this bar. He didn’t have any nefarious motives coming in, but just wanted to see for himself who Emma had left him for. We’ll he at least didn’t plan to do anything too serious if he saw Rob.

The bartender walked over, seeing TJ in black athletic shorts, a white tank top, and a backwards flat brimmed hat, with tattoos scattered about his arms and chest. He was 6’3” and lanky, tan with dark green eyes and the faintest of facial hair on his face. TJ considered himself a musician by trade, but in reality he just barely had enough time anymore to mix in his songwriting career alongside his day job at a local coffee shop.

His dark green eyes, usually sharp and assessing, were narrowed with an obsessive focus. His slim face, framed by the shadow of moderate stubble, held a hard line. He was exhausted but knew for his plan to work, to be able to confront this guy, that he’d have to look mysterious and inviting.

And then he saw him.

Across the room, near a pop-a-shot basketball game, stood a guy with dark hair, a nice smile, and a beanie on, his head thrown back in laughter as he joked with a friend. Rob.

TJ recognized him instantly. He was shorter, with a generically average mid twenties guy build, a little softness around his middle that TJ’s own taut stomach never knew.

Rob’s smile was genuinely warm though, his dark eyes sparkling with easygoing humor. TJ watched him, a slow, satisfying smirk spreading across his face. So this was the guy. The ‘nice guy’ who’d presumably shacked up with Emma and stolen her away. TJ’s blood ran cold and hot simultaneously eyeing up Rob’s adorable babyface underneath the patchy covering of moderate facial hair.

It was obvious from his social media that he’d been with guys too. Whether or not Emma was aware that she was onto her second straight bisexual boyfriend, TJ had no idea, but he was sure from Rob’s social media that he’d at least fooled around with guys. The closeness with one guy in his older photos was a clear signal that they’d hooked up.

He stood and walked to pass Rob, making eye contact, and flashing a quick wink of his dark green eyes, just enough to draw him in. TJ caught the quick eye narrowing that Rob did, clearly curious why this tall tattooed guy was singling him out. TJ walked past, assessing him, and coming to the quick conclusion that Rob definitely didn’t recognize him. Perfect.

He walked backed and ordered another drink, positioning himself at the corner, where he could keep an eye on Rob and his friends without appearing to stare. TJ watched as the waitress brought the glass of whiskey over to Rob that TJ had ordered him. Rob looked around the bar and found TJ’s glowing face looking back at him, his lips curled up in a slight grin.

After Rob had finished the drink, TJ watched him excuse himself from his friends and head towards the bar. TJ met his gaze as Rob approached the bartender next to the corner.

“Hey,” TJ said, his voice deep and edgy, “good shot on that game over there.”

Rob turned, a relaxed grin on his face. “Thanks man.” He ordered the same whiskey that TJ had gotten him and turned, his dark eyes curious, “did you get me this?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” TJ lied smoothly and sipped his drink. “I’m TJ though…” He extended a hand, his grip firm.

“Rob,” he replied, shaking TJ’s hand. “Thanks for the drink.” He had a nice smile and clearly wasn’t an idiot, TJ begrudgingly admitted, the kind of guy that probably charmed everyone. TJ’s anger flared for a moment, thinking of Emma falling for this bullshit.

“Quick game of basketball?” TJ mused, letting his gaze linger on Rob’s face, taking in the facial hair that contoured a surprisingly babyish face underneath. “You win and another drink’s on me. I win and you head in there with me for a bit?” He pointed at the bathroom.

Rob laughed, unable to tell if the peculiar guy in front of him was serious or fucking with him. “Yeah I’m game.”

TJ smirked. “Cool.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. “You have a great vibe, ya know…” He let his green eyes sweep over Rob’s frame, a slow, deliberate inspection. Rob’s skin, particularly around his midsection, had a subtle curve that TJ’s sharper edges wouldn’t typically gravitate towards. But TJ felt a flicker of genuine attraction. Rob felt sweat on his neck, anxious and excited at the attention from the stranger.

“Thanks,” Rob said, a touch of shyness in his tone now. “I uh I like your tattoos,” He gestured at TJ’s arms and his chest under the tank top.

They walked to the basketball game together, TJ strutting and trying to flex as he moved. He swiped a card for both of them on the machines and they lined up to take their shots. TJ had been a small forward in high school and even played some club basketball in college so the match was no contest. TJ easily lapped Rob’s score in half the time as they threw up shots next to one another.

“Guess that’s my win?” TJ said, shrugging.

“Yeah man nice shots you’re really good…” Rob admitted, before he shifted, adjusting his stance. “So, what brought you here tonight?”

TJ decided to play his hand a little bolder. “Just looking for a distraction, someone fun.” He let his gaze drop to Rob’s lips then down to his waist , before moving them slowly back up to his dark eyes. “You seem like you can check both boxes.”

Rob’s cheeks flushed further. He cleared his throat. “Oh. Uh, well I have a….” He stopped himself. TJ knew he had him. Rob was clearly into him and he seemed more than willing to cheat on Emma the same way he’d stolen her away two months ago. TJ’s cockiness swelled.

“So, Rob,” TJ continued, moving closer, lowering his voice until it was almost a whisper. “Can I get my winnings now?” He nodded towards the bathroom.

Rob’s smile faltered for a second, “wait…really?”

“Yeah how about a little adventure?” TJ’s voice was a low growl now, predatory and enticing. “Let’s go for a walk together.” He let his eyes sweep over Rob again, clearly checking him out.

Rob’s breath hitched. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes meeting TJ’s over the rim. “O…k” His voice was a little huskier now.

“Follow me,” TJ said, turning, a big grin finally breaking free on his face, though he kept it hidden from Rob. This was almost too easy.

He led Rob through the crowd, past the dance floor and towards the back of the bar where the restrooms were tucked away. TJ pushed the men’s room door open, glancing back at Rob, who was following like a lap dog, a mix of excitement and apprehension on his face. Rob truly had no idea. The thought fueled TJ’s dark satisfaction.

They stepped inside. The men’s room was surprisingly clean for a dive bar with two stalls and two urinals. Thankfully, it was empty. TJ moved swiftly, pushing the door shut and locking it with a click.

Rob jumped slightly at the sound. “Whoa, what’s the rush?” He offered a nervous laugh, but his eyes were wide, a mix of arousal and a realization of where things were headed.

TJ turned to face him, his back against the locked door. His green eyes held an intensity that Rob hadn’t seen before.

“You’re cute, Rob,” TJ murmured, his voice low, almost hypnotic. “And you seem to have a knack for getting what you want, don’t you?” The last part was a hidden accusation that Rob couldn't possibly have understood.

Before Rob could respond, TJ leaned in, his lips crashing down on Rob’s in a hungry, aggressive kiss. It wasn't tender or sweet, it was about dominance. TJ pushed Rob against the nearest wall, his long, lean body pressing hard against the smaller, doughier guy. Rob gasped into the kiss, a sound of surprise before his lips parted as he started to respond, tentatively at first, then with increasing fervor.

TJ’s hand moved from Rob’s cheek and plunged into Rob’s dark hair, removing the beanie and throwing it to the side.

Rob’s hands came up, gripping TJ’s shoulders, his fingers digging into them. A low moan vibrated in his throat as TJ’s tongue explored his mouth. Rob tasted whiskey and pain. TJ broke the kiss, leaving Rob panting softly, his lips slightly bruised from the aggression.

“Good,” TJ breathed, his eyes blazing with a mix of desire and a cold, calculating satisfaction. He moved his hands to Rob’s hips, gripping them firmly, turning Rob around so his back was to TJ.

Rob let out a soft “Hey!” of surprise, but TJ was already pressing him against the wall. “Woah, okay…” Rob said, his voice breathless, surrendering to the moment.

“I’m gonna fuck you Rob, okay?” TJ rasped, his voice a low growl. Rob nodded and smiled at his aggression.

TJ pushed Rob’s hips forward, grinding his erection against Rob’s jeans. Rob groaned and arched his back slightly, pressing into TJ’s hardness. TJ felt his control over the situation waver for a moment from how hot this was and it almost moved him past his plan for calculated revenge. Almost.

TJ’s hands unzipped Rob’s jeans from behind, sliding them down along with his boxers, just to his knees. Rob’s exposed ass had a thin layer of fur coating the cheeks to match his facial hair.

“Spread your ass open for me.” TJ commanded, his voice sharp now, fully in control.

Rob complied without hesitation, bracing his forehead against the cold tile wall and pulling his bubbly ass apart. TJ knelt, surveying the hairy hole in front of him. TJ traced a finger along the curve of Rob’s ass cheek, then slipped it between them, feeling the soft fur against his skin. Rob shivered, a low moan escaping his mouth.

TJ pulled out his phone with his free hand, ensuring the camera was discreetly positioned. He needed proof. He needed Emma to see this. With a quick tap, he took a video of his finger rubbing Rob’s hairy hole before flipping the camera around to smile into it.

“Keep it open…” TJ said as he collected his saliva and spit onto Rob’s dry hole before plunging two fingers straight into it, uncaring for how much it hurt. Rob let out a pained yelp at the sudden intrusion, something he hadn’t felt in years.

After less than a minute of brutally stretching him out, TJ pushed his own shorts down, letting his seven and a half inch and uncut huge cock flop out behind him.

He smeared a little more spit for lube on it, then positioned himself behind Rob’s inviting ass.

“You ready?” TJ whispered, his voice intense, a malicious thrill coursing through him.

Rob, eyes closed, head resting against the cool tiles, gave a small nod. “Yeah,” he gasped, “yeah, fuck me.”

“I’m gonna wreck you…” TJ lined himself and pushed as hard as he could, plunging it deep into the hole in front of him as fast as it could possibly stretch out to let him in.

“AGH FUCK!” Rob yelled out, probably loud enough for the bar to hear over the music as his ass was invaded by the massive uncut cock with only spit to help lubricate its push inward.

TJ reached around and grabbed Rob’s dick, relishing that it felt at least an inch or two smaller than his own. He started to stroke Rob as he held his cock almost fully in, forcing Rob’s ass to make room for it. Rob cried out, a muffled sound against the wall, his body tensing and squeezing TJ’s cock. TJ pushed even deeper, until he was fully buried inside Rob, feeling the tight, hot grip around him. He paused for just a moment, letting Rob adjust, letting the sensation wash over him for just a second.

“You good?” TJ couldn’t help but appreciate how cute Rob was and despite hating him with every ounce of his being, still didn’t want to truly hurt him physically.

“Yeah fuck you’re huge, do you have lube?” Rob grunted, struggling.

“No. I don’t” TJ was matter-of-fact.

“Ugh fuck. Okay just fuck me, fuck my ass.” Rob whimpered.

TJ smiled and pumped Rob’s dick as he pulled five or six inches out before ramming them back inside aggressively. He gripped Rob’s hips, pulling him back against himself, setting a relentless rhythm of pulling almost all the way out and then impaling all seven and half inches back in. TJ was only satisfied when he felt his tip reach Rob’s sphincter before he’d ram forward until Rob’s hairy ass slammed against his groin.

Rob threw his head back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as his ass was utterly destroyed, completely torn apart from the inside.

The sounds of their bodies slapping together, Rob’s gasps, TJ’s heavy breathing, filled the small, tiled room. TJ watched the reflection in the mirror, watching his tattoos ripple with each powerful stroke, watching Rob’s back arching, his head thrown back, lost to the sensations TJ was inflicting upon him.

“Fuck, Rob,” TJ moaned, his voice raw, “you’re fucking good…” TJ found himself in heaven, the feeling of wanting to dominate starting to mix with an appreciation for how good of a bottom his ex’s new boyfriend was.

But he’d come here with a purpose. He pulled his phone out and pointed it down, pulling his dick fully out of Rob, making sure she could recognize his dick, before he plunged it straight back in until his balls slapped the fat ass beneath him. He turned the camera around and made eye contact with the phone camera, a grim, satisfied smirk playing on his lips even as he grunted fucking her boyfriend. He made sure the phone captured every single audible noise in the room. Every thrust, every moan, every whimper from Rob was a message.

He felt the build-up, the anticipation of release. TJ sped up, ignoring the depth of his inflicted thrusts now and focusing instead on speed and getting off. He felt Rob shuddering against him, heard his choked cries. TJ reached around again and jerked Rob off as fast as he could, squeezing the perineum of his nemesis, wanting to even get Rob to cum for him.

“I’m cumming, ahhhggghh...” Rob shot a load out onto the tile wall, TJ’s hand continuing to pump him, wanting to rub him raw through his orgasm until it turned to a sensitive pain.

With one final, powerful thrust, TJ moaned dramatically and emptied himself deep inside Rob, a wave of intense pleasure mixed with chilling satisfaction washing over him. Rob cried out as he felt his ass fill with warm seed. As TJ’s orgasm subsided, he continued jerking Rob off as fast as he could.

Rob, now spent from his climax, began to shake from the sensitivity, “hey too much too much!” TJ kept rubbing his dick until he squirmed his way onto the floor, TJ’s dick popping out of him, “what the fuck!” He laid on the floor under TJ, his dick dark red from being overworked.

“You happy with yourself?” TJ asked, looking down on him.

“What?” Rob whispered, his voice raw with shock and coming to a much different conclusion than TJ intended. He ran a shaky hand through his disheveled dark hair. He looked down at himself, then back at TJ, whose face was now completely devoid of anything but a cold, hard devilish grin. “Oh my god, I…I messed up. I have a girlfriend.” His voice was filled with sudden, gut-wrenching remorse.

TJ watched him, a slow, cruel smirk spreading across his lips. “Yeah?” TJ said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth. “Send Emma my best.”

He pulled out his phone and found Emma’s contact, attached the clips, and hit send. The message was simple: I see why you picked him.

TJ flipped his phone around for Rob to see it, “now you know what it was like for me…” he seethed.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rob said, still on the ground.

TJ eyed him up, confused, “I’m Emma’s ex…she cheated on me with you*. I’m that guy.”*

“What?!” Rob was confused and now embarrassed to be on the floor naked in front of this guy, “she was dating someone?”

TJ’s face went blank, suddenly realizing Rob’s innocence in the whole thing.

He shook his head, panicking, “you didn’t know…? I thought…but…oh my god…” TJ sat on the ground next to Rob, the two of them butt naked and staring at the other, overwhelmed with the shock of the situation and a growing, shared anger at the fucked up girl that connected them.

Author Note*****: Check out my reddit page for more info on finding more of my writing!

“Yo, dudes!” My best friend, Rhys, greeted us at the lunch table, unwrapping a chicken caesar wrap and a bag of chips. “Sup, dudettes!” He turned to Christine and Dana, the resident pair of girls in our core friend group. 

We’d pretty much filled out the same lunch table all four years of high school. Rhys, my best bud, who’s a little brash, but who’d been by my side since childhood, John, our buddy on the football team, Brad, who Rhys had met freshman year and who was a bit of a bully to others, but was nice to us, and Dana and Christine. 

Christine has had a thing for me since sophomore year. She was hot, but a little all over the place at times. Had we fucked? Sure, a bunch of times, and it was awesome…but would I date her? Nah, that wasn’t for me. Dana, on the other hand, her best friend, was great. She was fun, down to earth, easy to talk to, and didn’t take shit too seriously, just like me. She was too good a friend, though, and had steered clear of me the last two years to respect Christine. That did change last month, though, when she blew me in my car one Friday night. The best head of my life.

“Sup, bitch.” Brad fist bumped Rhys.

“John, can I wear your jersey Friday?” Christine asked him. She kept her eyes on me the whole time as she said it. Rhys flashed me an eye roll, knowing this was just her latest attempt to try to make me jealous, but I couldn’t care les about her attention.

High school had been good to me. Hell, life had in general. I was definitely blessed with some good genes. Last year, though, I got a big fucking curveball thrown into my stupid head. When I jerked off, I was starting to spend a little more time focusing on the guy on the screen. Girls were still great, but I suddenly caught myself walking the school halls looking a little longer at guys, and even Rhys.

“Whatever you want, sure.” John offered, playing with his food. He was a little more chill, like me.

“You gotta put out first, girl! Gotta earn that jersey!” Brad said, wiggling his eyebrows at Christine. 

“Ew, stop Brad!” She said throwing a chip at him.

“C’mon he’d be a cake walk if you were able to handle Tucker’s hammer!” Rhys said out of the blue, leaning back in his chair with a shit-eating grin.

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck off.” 

Rhys had seen me naked many times at sleepovers and never shut up teasing me about how hung I was. You’d think it would be flattering, but over time, it just became embarrassing that random people in school would often look at me like they knew the rumors.

“How big we talking?” Brad snickered. "Admit it, you can do some damage with that thing!”

I sighed. Apparently, my penis was a constant source of amusement (and maybe a little envy) for my guy friends. I was a solid 6’2 and on top of it, blessed in that department down low.

Christine caught my eye across the table and bit down on her lip, seductively, trying to rope me in. It probably would’ve worked under normal circumstances; a guy wasn’t going to turn down sex after all, but my mind was drifting to other places. She'd always wanted us to be more serious, which made me even more uninterested. 

Some guy on the soccer team walked by our table in his jersey. His calves looked huge and the hair coating them looked soft, like it would be warm to nuzzle against. Normally, I would have relished the attention from the girls, but today, I wished far more it was the soccer player’s mouth on me instead. 

John, oblivious to the awkwardness around the table, punched my shoulder. "Hey, you coming to the game on Friday, by the way?”

"Wouldn't miss it," I replied, forcing a smile. “Friday night lights, baby!” I loved football and lately, on top of it, the idea of staring down sweaty, athletic guys in tight jerseys was pretty enticing too.

Brad made an ugly, contorted face. “Baby? You sound so fucking gay sometimes, dude…” 

“Not everything is ‘gay’ Brad…” Dana said.

Rhys laughed, “the boys just gotta keep each other in line, Dana! We can’t have any sus shit from this group!”

And that was why I was so deep in the closet. Was I bi? Was I gay? I didn’t know and had no chance to figure it out of fear of Rhys or Brad finding out. 

We wrapped up lunch, heading off to our last three classes of the day. "Tucker, wait up," Dana said. She placed a hand on my arm, her nails painted a bright, attention-grabbing red. "So, about later…"

I pulled my arm away gently. “Later?”

“After school. Maybe we can hang out?” I could tell by the way she was swaying that the talk at the table had gotten her wanting to hook up again.

I didn’t want any distractions today. The only moments I had to enjoy a guy’s body were when I was alone and staring at a screen. “Gotta study, Dana. Big test coming up."

"Studying can wait," she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I bet I can think of a better way for you to relieve some stress." She leaned closer.

"Thanks, but I'm good," I said, my voice sounding surprisingly firm. "Catch you later." I practically bolted out of the cafeteria, desperate for some space to breathe. 

The afternoon crawled by. My classes were a blur of droning teachers and bored classmates. I had to fight back like four obvious boners that afternoon, my body impatiently waiting for me to get home. Being ‘big’ down there made this part of life really difficult to hide the random horniness that inevitably hit an eighteen year old guy three hundreds times per day.

Finally, the last bell rang, and I practically sprinted home. As soon as I walked through the door, I headed straight for my room and locked it. I collapsed onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

I got up and walked over to my desk. In the bottom drawer, hidden beneath a pile of old textbooks, was a black box. Inside was a silicone sleeve that I’d ordered a few weeks ago from a website that promised to deliver it in an inconspicuous package.

I took it out, the smooth, slightly sticky texture familiar in my hand. I’d used it almost daily since the day it came. I grabbed some lube from my bedside table. Of course now I wasn’t even really hard, but I knew that I wanted to cum. I was eighteen…I always wanted to cum… 

I flicked open my laptop. I wasn’t sure exactly what I was looking for, as long as a dick was involved. Muscled bodies, chiseled faces, and masculine eyes that promised a world of pleasure I couldn't even begin to imagine. I scrolled through them, my pulse quickening with a mix of shame and excitement washing over me.

I honed in on one between a guy in his forties and one my age. I’d learned the last few weeks that he was called a ‘twink’. The one my age was on his knees, his head bobbing up and down as he serviced the other guy. I pictured myself first as the guy standing, getting head and dominating over another male. I applied a generous amount of lube on my now hard 8.5 inch (22cm) cut cock and into the sleeve, before sliding it down over my dick.

I’d ordered the biggest one the site had, which was still an inch shorter than my cock. The blessing and curse of being so hung…

I began to stroke myself and heard the wet, loud noises of the silicone squishing up against my thick cock. No one was home, nor would they be for a while, so I let the noises of the horse meat attached to my slim, smooth body blare out in my house.

Now, I couldn’t help but picture myself as the guy on his knees. I closed my eyes, imagining what it would feel like to taste a man. The curve of his cock against my tongue. The sound of his moans filling my ears. The taste…I couldn’t begin to guess what it would be like.

Faster and faster I pumped, my hips rocking back and forth with growing intensity. The fantasy in my head became more vivid, more real. I was no longer just watching. I was there. I was the one on my knees.

I started to moan, the sounds being drowned out by the wet noises coming from my lap. I felt muscles up and down my body start to flex and contort, preparing to power out a release. The pressure built and I felt heat spread through my core.

“Oh, fuck…fuck…” I gasped, speeding up my hand even faster, trying to overwhelm my already sensitive dick with overwhelming stimulation. 

One last, desperate stroke, and I exploded. A gallon of cum shot into the sleeve, the force of it sending shivers down my spine. I collapsed back, panting, my body trembling.

I was so desperate for dick that I was willing to have it be my own. I turned the sleeve upside down and let a glob of my own seed dribble into my palm. Raising it up to my face, I inhaled the strong, earthy scent…I didn’t care, it was about what it was. I ran my tongue along my palm, carefully lapping up every drip of my own semen, tasting the bitter, salty, stickiness. I could almost feel my dick getting hard again, knowing what this was. If only it were someone else’s…

I cleaned myself up, tossed the sleeve back into its hiding place, and turned off the laptop. The room was silent and I had clarity. I couldn't keep living like this. I had to find a way to hook up with a guy, and I knew there were apps that could help…

I knew the app. Everyone did. Guys constantly called each other ‘sus’ and teased each other for the idea of having one of these gay hookup apps loaded onto their phones. I was surrounded by reels, videos, and posts on social media of guys my age doing anything possible to never be lumped in with the guys who might have one of these on their phone.

But, naturally, that meant it was the one way I knew of to find a guy I could fuck…or at least make out with…

The first thing I had to do was figure out how to hide it on my phone. This felt like a multistep research process but the effort was worth it if I could safely find a guy to hook up with, without anyone else finding out, especially my friends. First thing was ‘how to hide the evidence’ before I even downloaded the ‘evidence’.

The internet recommended I bury it on the fourth page of a folder on another page of my home screen, and put that folder behind a password protection. Three layers of protection, all behind my lock code. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever given Christine, Dana, or one of the guys my lock screen passcode, so I decided to change it, and to expand it to six digits, instead of the usual four. Was that sus itself? Would that draw questions?

I typed a “g” into the App Store and took a deep breath. Was this worth it? I clicked download and let my phone authenticate my face, scared that it was capturing evidence of my shame to be shared with the world.

I opened it and made an account, filling in my accurate age of eighteen. I left most of the other characteristics empty and didn’t dare to upload a picture. There was no way I was the only closeted dude at school and I wasn’t about to be outed in the middle of senior year.

Scrolling through the home page, I was a little disappointed. Almost every image was faceless, most profiles were blank (like mine), and those that did have images looked clearly fake. There was one profile a few miles away that was my same age. If it were real (a big if), then that had to be someone from school. It was alluring and I felt a jolt in my dick at the thought of sneaking around with someone from school who was also probably closeted just like me.

Hey 

I didn’t know what else to start with. The internet had taught me all these silly phrases and lingo but, for all I knew, no one actually used them. I didn’t want to come across like a creep.

A quick sound rang out on my phone and I panicked, rushing to my settings to silence the app. What if my parents had heard it? Would they even know what it was? I took a deep breath and opened it again.

Yo…what’re you looking for?

What was I looking for? Wasn’t it obvious if we were talking on here…? I wrote back.

Me: Guys 

Mystery Guy: No shit. Right now? Hosting? Dating? Friends? 

Oh, I guess a lot of those things online were right. I thought carefully about my response. I didn’t want it to be too obvious that I was a rookie with dudes. 

Me: A hook up. But not today

Mystery Guy: Cool. Top or bottom?

Good question. Neither? Was I really ready to fuck a dude? I was just hoping to maybe exchange handjobs or something. I definitely wasn’t ready for something up my ass.

Me: Top

Mystery Guy: Good. Down for something freaky?

Me: Maybe

Mystery Guy: I have a football game Friday. I’m sure you already know about that though, don’t you?

Me: Maybe…

Mystery Guy: Ha okay play hard to get that’s fine

Me: What about the game?

Mystery Guy: Meet me under the bleachers on the home side stands. Set a timer as soon as the clock hits zero. When it hits 75 minutes, come down there through the door. Don’t fucking come early or late though, got it?

Me: Okay I got it. Why?

Mystery Guy: I’ll be blindfolded. All you need to do is fuck me good

Oh my god. Is this what gay guys were like!? Half of me was terrified and the other half had never been more turned on. Suddenly, I felt desperate to get in this football player’s ass. I rubbed my dick just thinking about it.

Me: Got it. Sign me up

Mystery Guy: You better fuck me good

We left it there. Could this all be a trap? Maybe, but at least half the guys on the football team were hot as fuck. It was worth the risk. 

Wait what if it was John? I had to laugh. The chances were slim to none. Granted, wouldn’t they have said the same about me?

Friday night, I got to the game early, as if I were a college scout wanting to see how the players warmed up. John gave me a nod from the field as he stretched. There was no way it was him. I scanned the field further. Who would be bold enough to talk like such a slut the way my mystery guy had? And who looked like a ‘bottom’?

On my last question…the answer was clearly “none of them”. The whole team was among the most jacked, masculine, hyper-aggressive men in my school. The ones I’d shared classes with, like David the running back, Kyle the outside tackle, Bradley the safety, and Jason the linebacker were all some of the biggest assholes I’d ever met. 

They were the kind of guys you avoided when they were coming towards you in the hall, the sort that would make a teacher cry if they tried to discipline them. It was ironic because Bradley’s dad, Mr. Nash, was one of my favorite teachers in our school, but his son and his friends were the biggest shitheads. 

I looked over the field and found the four of them stretching together. As much as I thought he was a prick, Jason did look fucking hot right now. He was the only one on the team who went with the old school football look of not wearing a shirt underneath his shoulder pads. His abs were insane and he had them out flexing for every girl in the stands to drool over. I’m not even sure I could’ve handled a guy like that and, even if I could, that dude would be the most aggressive top there ever was. There was no way he’d be bottoming for someone.

Scanning more, there was one guy, Evan, who I think was a second or third string wide receiver, who did seem a little slimmer and more approachable than a lot of the other guys. He wasn’t as ripped or hot as Jason, Bradley, and their friends, but he was somebody I’d actually enjoyed being around in classes or during lunch when John brought him around. He struck me as someone who might have a more feminine side and there were even rumors that he'd kissed a guy at a part once, but nobody was sure if it was true or not. I decided to keep my eyes on Evan during the game, in the hopes he’d be the one waiting for me at the end.

When the game finally did come to a conclusion, a 49-7 cake walk of a victory, I did as I’d been instructed and started a timer on my phone. I had over an hour to kill, so I did a lap or two around the field before hanging out in my car and playing some music to hype myself up. 

So many questions were running through my head. What if I couldn’t go through with it? What if, when I actually saw a dude naked, I hated it? Anal seemed like a big commitment too…what if I didn’t like it? I felt like I did years ago when I’d hooked up with a girl for the first time and tried to remind myself how fun that’d been and how quickly I couldn’t wait to do it again.

At the seventy minute mark, I started to make my way down to the bleachers. I could’ve sworn I saw someone else walking away from that direction into the woods, which was a little freaky. Now my mind drifted back to whether I was, in fact, being set up…

I took one last deep breath and opened the bleacher door. On the other side, bent over, I saw the unmistakable view of a dude’s bare ass facing me. It was fucking jarring, almost like one of my friends mooning me like an idiot, but instead it was an invitation this time. This guy was presenting his bare butt to me in the hopes I’d have my way with it. 

I couldn’t grapple with the millions of thoughts rushing through my head, but the one that stuck out was that this view was stirring something in my groin, like I figured it would. I took my time and walked towards him. 

As I got closer, I saw it. There was something smeared on his cheeks…cum…

What had I gotten myself into? Now I understood why I was supposed to wait…and why I thought that I’d seen someone walking away. I wasn’t the first one here. The thought made me queasy; I knew this was a mistake. This was exactly the sort of thing I should’ve avoided, but looking down at this beautiful, tight, round boy butt already open and calling me was like a hypnotic drug pulling me in. 

I got closer and then shock number two hit me. It was Jason. 

WHAT.

I got closer and stared down at his ass. I couldn’t believe how smooth and hot it was. This was a guy who I’d been in classes with for years. I’d seen him get into fights in school, make fun of other people for the dumbest, most normal, shit, and even tell teachers to fuck off. His ass was now out to the cool air, and he wanted me to…fuck…him…

I walked up closer, enough to bump my shoes against his. I moved in closer to his neck and could smell ripe, manly, sweat. He hadn’t showered and he smelled gross.

“Hey man...” I whispered into his here. I didn’t know what to say but I knew from our messages that he was clearly a bit of a freak, so I figured that trying to come off as cocky, just like him, was my best move. While I was inexperienced with guys, I had plenty with girls, so I tried to channel that confidence.

“I didn’t expect to you see here. That was an amazing play out there…” I didn’t pay him any attention during the game, assuming there was no way it was going to be him waiting for me, so I had no clue what play I was even talking about. Based on the grin I saw him flash, though, I knew my plan had worked to rev up his ego.

“Thanks,” Jason replied. Hearing his voice was so hot and I was now sure that this wasn’t a trick. I didn’t know if I should keep talking or not, but figured that for him, I was here for just one thing.

I reached down and took a hold of his waist, feeling a more muscularly defined build than with any girl. He felt strong, like he could kick my ass if he wanted to. I heard my own tongue lick across my lips and even caught a bit of drool that had fallen out of my mouth.

I’d never really thought about grabbing another guy’s ass before. I assumed it was clean? I would think? I reached down and felt his thighs first, their strength also intimidating. I slid my hand slowly up until I had his butt in my hands. My cock flexed instinctively. This was everything. His ass felt so strong, so hard, that I had to choke back what were nearly tears from how turned on I was. I needed to see more.

It felt wrong, but I slowly pulled his cheeks apart, peering into this cocky prick’s asshole. It looked a little open and there was what was clearly cum smeared all over it. I saw his hole pucker and push more cum out of it. Holy fuck this dude is a slut…

I couldn’t tell if I was more disgusted or horny. My own primal sexuality was starting to take over. “Fuck dude…” I was shocked by the sight. I was nervous to try this with even one guy, but here he was, clearly experienced if he looked like this. 

“This is raunchy. No shower after your game and now some dude’s jizz is dripping out of you? You’re a jock slut, aren’t you…” I didn’t know where my own words were coming from. I understood more already why he was here in this position. There was something intoxicating about how dirty and devious this all felt, being under here out in the open. 

I took one more deep breath and lowered my shorts and underwear. My dick looked way too big to fit inside him. I pushed it up against his asshole, and the slickness and feeling of being in that spot almost made me bust on the spot. I slowly rubbed my dick up and down his hole, trying to memorize the sight of a guy’s ass silhouetting my cock for the first time. I already knew it would be the first time of hundreds. I still questioned how it would fit, though? Girls had really struggled to take it but Jason’s asshole looked even tighter and smaller.

“Let’s go come on.” Jason suddenly said, forcefully. He didn’t sound kind…that was the Jason I knew from growing up in classes.

I gripped his hips with my left hand and used my right to try to push my dick inside, feeling it pop through. The feeling was otherworldly. Jason responded and pushed backward onto my dick and before I knew it, we were meeting each other halfway, and I was sinking my cock deeper into his bowels. It was unbelievable, easily the best feeling of my entire life, and somehow I quickly got all 8.5 inches (22cm) inside. 

It was the first time I’ve ever been able to get the entire thing inside of someone. Jason looked to be in pain and I was concerned for him, but was too scared to ask if he was okay, worried that he’d yell at me or, worse, ask me to pull out. I needed him…my dick needed this warm, tight, dirty home.

After about a minute, I decided to try him out and started to pull back. I took my time, slowly humping in and out, feeling his bottom constrict my dick and slowly stroke my monster. It was so slick from however much cum was already inside him, making it easy to glide in and out. 

I wanted to feel more of him. I reached around and felt his abs. I’d obviously felt a six pack when I’d been play-wrestling with friends but I’d never been able to truly massage and appreciate the strength of another man’s core. His abs were rock hard and I could feel each individual ridge; evidence of his strength.

I took a deep breath, trying to settle myself down. “Relax.” I said to myself, trying to coach my body to take its time and savor this. I sped up a bit, feeling the nerves in my cock send waves of euphoria to my brain through every thrust. My body was overwhelmed. 

I reached down and gripped his blonde hair and tugged his head back a bit, “Fuck your ass is tight…” I groaned. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever fucked, it’s amazing…”

SHIT. I shouldn’t have said that. 

I saw another small grin and took it as a sign that I was in the clear, but I immediately regretted admitting it. I sped up and heard my groin start to smack against his ass. How he was able to take my big dick in that tiny little canal was fucking crazy. I saw it as a challenge now, to try to break him. I thrusted harder, trying to get even deeper, and felt proud when he had to grip the metal below the bleachers to stabilize himself. 

There was no way I was going to finish this without getting to touch his dick; my first one. I reached around and grabbed it, feeling something that felt much smaller than mine. I knew mine was huge so it was impossible for me to judge his size or to figure out if it was big, small, average…I had no clue. It felt hard and so different from my own. Instinctually, I went to town stroking it.

“Wait STOP!” He yelled out.

He was so loud…I fucking panicked. “Shut up! Someone will hear you!” No amount of pleasure was worth it if someone fucking found us down here. 

Before I knew what was happening, my hand felt warm and sticky. I glanced around his neck and saw ropes of jizz shooting out of his dick. I kept stroking, not really sure what I should do. By the third shot, I felt his ass start to clench, as if he was bearing down with all its strength to grip my cock even tighter. That was it. A wave of lightning shot through my body and I unloaded in him. It felt fucking incredible to cum inside someone and to know I was depositing my seed so far deep in him. I collapsed downward onto his back, feeling overwhelmed, as we both gasped for air.

I panicked. I was so exposed. Someone could’ve heard us. He could tell someone about me if he took his blindfold off. What was I doing? Was it worth it?

I quickly backed out of him and watched him almost fall over.

“Fuck…” I whispered. What were the chances someone didn’t hear or see us? I’d seen that other guy leaving, what if someone saw me now? 

“I’ll see you around Jason…” I said, rushing to leave.

WAIT why did I use his name!

Author Note: Check out my reddit page for more info on my writing and how to read more of this series!

Will already knew the house like the back of his hand from parties here when he was dating Maddie. He also knew more of the girls already and was relieved that Maddie had clearly communicated their breakup as mutual and clean, given how excited her sorority sisters were to see and hang out with him. 

He spent most of the night catching up with girls he hadn’t seen the last few weeks, occasionally making eye contact with Maddie from across a room, but unable to find the right time for a private conversation with her. She seemed happy to see him, but he could also sense a slight pain in her face, mostly because he had the same on his.

Around 11, still early in the party, Will found Chase and Dex playing pong in the basement. He cheered them on against two girls who clearly thought they were going to be getting lucky with their competition after the game. Will hovered behind Chase, just close enough that his big could feel him nearby.

“Ugh you’re too good at this!” One of the girls pleaded, trying way too hard to appear like a damsel in distress for Chase to pounce on.

“Yeah Chase, you’re just so good…” Will teased, getting a laugh from his fellow sophomore and a frustrated eye roll from the girl trying hard to get into the soccer star’s pants.

They finished the game, Chase and Dex dominating it. Will turned to walk away slowly just as the game wrapped and was pleased that Chase also turned to follow him before the girl on the other side could get over to him. They made their way upstairs to the living room, carefully dodging a line of girls vying for Chase’s attention.

“Hey, big…” Will turned to him by the stairs to the second floor.

Chase looked hungry, gritting his teeth, “you still want it?” His blonde hair was extra messy, matching the rabid desire he had on his face to get off and try something new.

“Want…what?” Will played dumb, trying his best to sound sexy and teasing.

Chase chuckled at Will’s awkwardness, his golden retriever energy not lending itself to dirty talk well. “My cock…” he grabbed his package through his jeans. 

Will realized that multiple people around them were staring at Chase like they normally did and a few looked curious when they saw him grip his manhood, wondering what the two of them could possibly be talking about. They brushed it off as Chase living up to his immature reputation.

“Yeah…” Will’s whispered, “follow me.” 

Will had the advantage of knowing the house inside and out. He took them upstairs into the room of a junior girl who was studying abroad this semester. Will led them in and locked the door, turning on the fan in the corner to drown out any future sounds.

“You’re getting good at all of this. I’m proud of you.” Chase smiled.

“Good at what?” 

“Going after what you want.”

Will grinned, a feeling of satisfaction washing over him, “can I tell you what I really want then?” Will bit his lip, nervously.

“Go for it,” Chase was intrigued.

“When Diego and I had sex, it was really rushed and we just pulled our pants down. Can we get naked? Like fully naked? I know it sounds weird, but I just want to get into it more."

Chase grinned, “you want the full experience? Ha, sure little…less constricting anyway.” Chase went for his shirt.

“Wait!” Will put his hand on him, “can I do it…please?” 

Chase chuckled, “ha…sure…”

Will's hands trembled as he began to unbutton Chase's shirt, revealing his toned chest and defined abs. Will traced the lines of Chase's muscles with his fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin. Chase lifted his arms out one at a time so Will could remove his shirt completely. 

“What’re you thinking right now?” Chase asked. "Tell me everything."

Will was surprised by the question. He decided to let it all out, whatever came to mind.

“Your skin is so smooth. Like there isn’t an ounce of extra skin, you’re just lean muscle…do you realize how perfect you are?”

“Yeah…I do…it takes a lot of work…” Chase beamed, cockier than ever, not at all one for modesty.

Will unbuttoned Chase’s jeans and pulled them down, careful not to pull the tight forest green underwear with them. It didn’t have any distinct outline to the shaft, but he could see the heft of the package in the front because of how heavy Chase’s sack was. 

“Now what? How do I look?” Chase asked again.

Will looked up and down his legs and circled Chase, “you seemed so tan when I met you but now every time I see you like this, it’s so cute how pale you naturally are underneath,” Will glanced at the tan line midway up the toned thighs, right where the hair started.

“What else?” Chase was obviously growing harder underneath his underwear.

“Your bulge is amazing,” Chase grinned again, “your balls are so damn big,” Chase grabbed them like he had downstairs.

Will walked around behind him, “and your butt is just…perfect…” he looked at the rock hard curve of his cheeks jutting out below the indented dimples above his waist band on his lower back.

“Oh yeah, you like my ass?” Chase slapped his own butt over his briefs, but the rock hard muscle barely moved.

Will moved to his knees and pulled Chase’s briefs down slowly, surprised that as they came down, no hair showed this time. Chase had shaved his pubes completely clean where they were usually a mess of thick matted blonde. As his underwear came down further, his fully hard six and a half cut inches flopped out and bounced, his balls hanging down low between his legs. Will could see a fine line on his legs of where he stopped the shaving, which included the normal thick blonde hair matted across his taint, underneath his balls and leading to his hole.

Will chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Chase turned his head.

“You shaved…for me?” 

“Yeah,” Chase winked, “I thought you might like it and I wanted to feel those little cheeks when I fuck your brains out…” 

Will’s jaw dropped. “You stopped shaving behind your balls though? 

“My taint? My ass?” Chase lifted his balls and looked underneath, a little bit of dark blonde hair protruding between his sack and hole, “is that a thing?” 

Will laughed, “yeah…I’ll show you mine in a few minutes…” 

Chase’s eyes lit up. “Woah.”

Will reached out and gently stroked Chase's shaft, feeling the warmth and hardness beneath his fingers.

"I love your dick so much," Will whispered, looking up at Chase. "It’s so soft.” 

Chase smirked, his cock twitching in Will's hand. "Better than Diego and Sam…even if they’re bigger?” He saw Will’s smile turn slightly downward. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said Sam's name…let’s just have fun, okay?”

Will cringed at Sam’s name but nodded and tried to push it to the back of his mind. “Don’t make me compare to anyone else.” Will smiled shyly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. He took Chase’s shaft into his mouth. 

Chase groaned, throwing his head back as Will began to suck, taking his time tasting it more, the fuck boy’s cock being a little saltier, as usual, than other guys’. 

“Can I try fingering you?” Will asked.

Chase looked apprehensive and anxious, “ehhh I’m not sure about that…”

“You liked my tongue, didn’t you?”

“That’s…different…”

“Didn’t you wanna try new things? And you want to fuck me…you don’t think you can take a finger? Too much of a little bitch?”

Chase rolled his eyes and shook his head, hating the challenge. “Ugh, fuck fine…but I’m not promising that it’s as clean as last time when I knew you were gonna go in there…”

As he continued to pleasure Chase, Will slipped a spit-covered finger between the athletic muscular cheeks, gently probing at his tight, lightly furry hole. Chase gasped, his body tensing at the new sensation of feeling a finger massage his opening.

Will slowly inserted his finger, feeling an intense squeezing. Chase’s division one soccer glutes were able to constrict his finger to the point that Will wondered if they could possibly break it off of his hand. He pushed and finally got the tip in, feeling around inside. It was warmer and the wall of his cavity felt rock hard. He dug just barely deeper and felt something a little softer.

“Oh my fuccccking god,” Chase moaned, his hips bucking slightly and his quads squeezing, “that’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life…”

Will continued to work his finger inside of Chase's ass, trying to massage the spot that seemed to trigger his pleasure while his mouth was still wrapped around Chase’s cock. Will could taste the salty pre cum leaking from the tip and tried to suction more out, as if it were giving him life.

Suddenly, Chase reached down and pulled Will to his feet. "Okay that’s enough, we came here for something else, right?" He growled, pulling Will to his feet and lifting his shirt off and pulling his jeans and underwear down and completely off.

Will blushed, feeling self-conscious as Chase stared at his completely naked body. But Chase's eyes were filled with desire.

“Stop being so self-conscious. It’s annoying and it’s a huge buzzkill, dude…” Chase said sternly. “Let me let you in on a little secret. Most of the girls that I fuck, I’m not even attracted to. Sometimes, people just want to get off. That's their problem, not yours. Just be confident. Have a little more fun.” Chase said. 

Will gave a forced half-grin, looking Chase up and down, knowing he had no idea what it was like to not be the hotter person in every sexual encounter. Chase reached out and gripped Will’s dick, causing his eyes to roll up and his mouth to go agape.

“It feels so weird to touch a dick that isn’t mine…” Chase slowly stroked back and forth, the two of them standing and facing each other. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah…you know it does. So good…” Will panted. Chase smiled, pleased with himself.

Chase led Will over to the bed, pushing him down onto his back. He got up onto the bed and straddled Will's chest, holding his dick down for Will to take into his mouth again. "Suck."

Will happily obliged and sucked more on his mentor’s cock. Chase groaned in pleasure, feeling Will’s warm, wet mouth surrounding his shaft, while he played with Will’s scruffy hair. Will took the opportunity to reach around and hold Chase’s ass cheeks, massaging them with both hands and feeling their strength. His dick strained upward, begging for attention as he tasted Chase’s cock and squeezed his butt at the same time.

Will stopped for a second and pulled off of Chase. Chase watched him, curiously, as he put a finger in his mouth. It took Chase a second to realize that it was the finger that had been buried in his ass.

Will tasted a raunchy muskiness. It wasn’t necessarily dirty, but it definitely wasn’t rosy and floral either. Will was a little disgusted with himself for how much it turned him on to think about tasting Chase’s raw, sweaty, straight, jock hole.

Chase sensed Will’s demeanor shift. “What’s up?”

“I can taste your ass on my finger…”

“Oh…uhhh...christ.…I...” Chase started, but Will cut him off.

“No it’s hot. I love it”

Chase shook his head, in disbelief. “Dude you are such a little closet freak, I love it.”

Will plunged the same finger back into Chase’s ass, even easier now at this angle with the jock straddling him. He dug around again, immediately finding the soft, pleasure target inside of Chase’s straight virgin canal.

“FUCK…” Chase screamed, “god that’s so fucking good…” Chase rocked back and forth between Will’s mouth in front and his finger in the back, his head up in the air in ecstasy.

“I’m gonna cum fast like this Will, stop, stop…”

Will stopped his movements. “Do you want to have sex still?” He looked up at Chase with nervous eyes, hoping the answer was yes.

Chase devoured the look down at his adorable face. He wanted to finish off what was left of Will’s innocence. “Fuck yeah.”

“I brought lube, it’s in my jeans pocket,” Will said. Chase got up, his muscular pale butt on display, without an ounce of give to it, just raw muscle. He returned to the bed and signaled for Will to replace him in straddling on top.

With Will positioned above him, Chase lubed up his finger and aggressively slit it inside of Will’s hole, eliciting a squeal of pain.

“Oh shut up, don’t be a bitch…” Chase smiled up at him, digging, more so than exploring, with his finger.

“Ha...ha. Fuck you.” Will moaned.

“This is uh…” Chase breathed out, his finger now fully inside Will. “This is…this is definitely fucking weird…not gonna lie.”

Will, trying to relax his sphincter, managed a small, breathless laugh. “It’s completely clean, I promise.”

Chase snorted, “yeah, I believe you but still. Just knowing what this normally does? At least mine…” he giggled with an ugly face.

Will erupted in genuine laughter and shook his head. “Chase! Come on! I ate your ass!”

Chase chuckled with that familiar arrogant grin, a flicker of his usual crass self. “Yeah that’s on you! I wouldn’t have done it to me!” He pushed his finger in a little further, before adding a second, while his blue eyes met Will’s. “You good?”

Will nodded, a soft moan escaping him. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.” The internal stretching was still a very unfamiliar sensation.

Chase worked his fingers, stretching Will. He was shockingly patient, much more than Diego had been, his finger movement now gentle despite his normally aggressive approach. After a few minutes, he pulled his fingers out, a wet noise echoing in the quiet room.

“Okay,” Chase said, his eyes now blazing with a primal desire that sent a shiver straight down Will’s spine., “so, here’s the thing…I told you about hitting number one hundred for girls, right? All one hundred with a condom…but you can’t get pregnant…” Chase let the question linger in the air.

“Yes,” Will gasped out, not wanting to think twice about it. “Yeah Chase…without a condom…yes…” Will smiled and nodded, giving him the consent he was looking for. 

Chase’s face lit up like a kid getting ice cream. Will felt the firm muscle of Chase’s thighs against his own, the lean, hard planes of his abs beneath his butt. Chase’s cock nudged now against Will’s smooth opening. Will braced himself, remembering the intense, tearing pain of Diego’s larger dick. Chase was at least a full inch shorter, and thinner, so Will hoped it would make it easier.

Chase’s hands settled on Will’s hips, guiding him, encouraging him to sit. “Aight, you got this,” Chase said, encouraging his little on.

Will took a deep breath and slowly, very slowly, began to lower himself. The tip of Chase’s penis pressed against him, a blunt pressure. He felt the resistance, the stretch, that full feeling as Chase’s dick breached his entrance. Will gasped, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck,” Chase murmured. He didn’t push, letting Will dictate the pace. “What’s it feel like?”

Will gritted his teeth. “It feels like it shouldn’t fit. It’s like a tearing feeling. So much pressure.“

Chase groaned, a deep, appreciative rumble in his chest. “Keep going Will, sit on my dick, come on.” 

Will pushed down another inch, then another, the slow, agonizing stretch feeling like it was tearing him in two, but the increasing fullness was undeniably arousing, knowing it was Chase.

He slid another agonizing inch down, the hard shaft moving deeper and deeper into his body.

Will gasped, his whole body tensing as Chase got halfway in him. The feeling of being stretched to his absolute limit was excruciating, but it was slowly being replaced by a throbbing, aching pleasure that was almost unbearable. He could feel the heat from the hard manly blood-filled mass inside him.

“Ughhhh,” Will panted, leaning forward, his hands braced on Chase’s shoulders. He looked down at Chase’s beautiful face and messy blonde hair, amazed that they were together like this. 

Chase’s hands moved from Will’s hips to his waist, pulling him down, just enough to sink more inside. Chase’s voice was strained, a grinding noise to it. “What’s it like compared to Diego?”

Will scrunched his face. “It’s hard to compare. There’s still so much pressure. But we’re going slower and it’s helping me adjust a lot easier. It’s more than just pain, like it was the other night…it’s starting to feel good…” Will was surprised by how honest he was able to be with Chase. And unlike Diego’s larger dick, Chase’s felt like a perfect fit as the initial stretch began to subside.

Chase groaned again, a deep, satisfied sound. He flexed his hips slightly against Will. “Yeah, it’s definitely tighter than a girl. Feels incredible. And like…” He paused, his voice dropping, his eyes looking predatory. “I can’t wait to get so much rougher with you since you’re my buddy…”

Will’s eyes widened, a jolt of fear and excitement. “Chase…” he breathed, a mixture of warning and invitation in his tone.

Chase’s grin was feral now, his hands rubbing Will’s ass from behind with desire. It was so much smaller and harder than a girl's, but that made it seem even more able to be broken in. The thought of wrecking it made Chase feel a primal need to dominate. “Don’t worry, little. I’ll be rough with you, but I won’t hurt you too bad. You can take it. We need your reputation to be that you’re as good in bed as I am…”

He started to push up, just a little, “your butt is like a goddamn glove, Will. Like it was made to take a dick.”

With a final push of two inches, Chase bottomed out inside Will, burying all six and a half inches of his cock deep into Will’s canal. Will let out a long, shuddering whimper, his entire body literally shaking with the intensity of the sensation. His heart was racing.

“Oh…my…god,” Will whispered, the words barely audible. Chase’s dick was exactly where it was meant to be, pulsating deep inside him, hitting a spot that made him feel like he was in heaven.

“Be a good boy and ride me little.” Chase tightened his grip on Will’s hips and, with his bicep and core strength, lifted Will’s entire body up so that his dick slid a few inches out, before pulling him back down, guiding him in how to ride while on top. “Do it. Up and down. Cmon…show me if guys do it better.”

Will followed Chase’s instructions, slowly lifting himself up, then sinking back down, learning the rhythm of their bodies. He picked up speed, guided by Chase’s hands, a soft groan escaping his lips with each descent.

Chase looked up at him, feeling Will’s grinding hole milk his cock. Suddenly, as Will reached the top of his bounce upward, Chase’s hands on Will’s hips held him in place. “Hold still.” he commanded.

Will froze, his body lifted off of Chase’s hips, his dick only about an inch inside, with a good amount of space between them. Without another word, Chase began to thrust upward, slowly at first to test out the distance, gauging the limits, as if he were preparing an exam. Will’s eyes rolled back as he felt Chase actually fucking him now.

“Mmhmmm ahhh…” Will moaned.

“Ready?” Chase whispered.

“Huh? For what?” Will looked down and salivated seeing Chase’s abs squeeze tight.

Chase picked up speed and, within seconds, he was humping at a relentless, inhuman pace that sent shockwaves through Will’s entire body. He pounded into Will with a speed that only Chase’s soccer-toned lower body could possibly muster. Will felt like he was actually ripping in two, the intense, violent thrusts pushing him to his limits. Will found himself legitimately screaming, involuntarily. He knew that people on the floor beneath them would hear how loud he was yelling, but couldn’t physically stop his voice from crying out and whimpering uncontrollably as Chase relentlessly obliterated his hole.

Chase was sweating beneath him, his powerful body arching, his hips slamming upward. Insanely loud, wet smacking noises echoed in the room, as the sounds of Chase’s groin slapping against Will’s ass rang out, likely leaving marks that would last days. Will’s head rolled back and his body felt numb, as Chase reach up and pinched his nipple. He was being used and utterly destroyed by Chase’s cock and his body was almost shutting down from the ecstasy of the feeling.

“Fuck, fuck yes you’re so tight, yessss…” Chase groaned with an animalistic look on his face. 

After what felt like an eternity, but had probably only been a minute, Chase, without warning, gripped Will’s ass cheeks. With a grunt of effort, he lifted Will clear off the bed, his cock still buried deep inside. Will gasped with his legs dangling and his hole clenched around Chase.

Chase pushed Will back against a wall of the bedroom, holding him up effortlessly by his ass cheeks. Chase restarted fucking him, pounding in and out as Will tried to balance himself with his arms around Chase’s neck, his back to the wall, and Chase’s masculine hands holding him underneath. Will’s moans and whining continued in this position and he prayed no one was on the other side of the wall in the room next door.

Will felt his muscles convulsing uncontrollably, sweat literally dripping from his forehead and pits onto the ground. He couldn’t believe how talented Chase was at sex and fully understood now why so many girls lined up to get a shot at fucking him. After about another minute of this new brutal, exhilarating assault, Chase finally pulled Will away from the wall, his arm running low.

He laid Will back down on the bed, but still didn’t stop. Instead, he gripped Will’s legs and pulled them high over his head, exposing his ass even more in a missionary position. Chase leaned forward, his eyes burning with a wild, unrestrained hunger. He drove his dick as deep as he possibly could, over and over and over again, burying it down with each powerful thrust. It felt like Chase had now humped ten millions times into Will in the last five minutes alone.

Will’s back arched off the bed, his nails digging into Chase’s back, scraping it. He started screaming again, a mixture of pain and the most euphoric pleasure he’d ever experienced in his entire life.

“God. Fucking. Damnit…Will, your ass feels like heaven!” Chase grunted, his voice ragged and hoarse. His heavy, huge balls slapped hard against Will’s ass in this position, only adding to the athlete’s sensations.

At this point, Will felt incoherent. His body spasmed, his vision blurred, and he wondered if his body was literally shutting down from his nerves being so overwhelmed with pleasure. He couldn’t muster a single word, only whimpering and screaming.

He suddenly felt his groin go hot like he had to pee. “Oh god, Chase! I think I’m…cumming?!” he choked out as a question in surprise.

Without ever touching himself, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him, as he shot ropes of cum that flew through the air and well over his own head. Will moaned and groaned as the most intense orgasm overtook his body from head to toe.

Chase let out an aggressive, loud growl, his eyes wide, watching Will’s release, “fuck, Will! I can feel your ass squeezing around me! It feels so good! Can I cum little?! Let me cum inside you, PLEASE!” he begged, his voice laced with a desperation that Will had never heard from him.

“Yeah!! Cum inside me!” Will screamed, unmistakably loud enough for other people in the house to hear him, but he couldn’t hold back.

Chase slowed his humping and buried himself as deep as he could. “Aghhhh yessss...ahhh…” Chase jerked his head forward over and over, feeling his cock pump a gigantic load deep inside his best friend. 

The hot, thick rush of Chase’s cum flooding into Will was the most profound, intimate feeling that either of them had ever experienced. Chase himself even whimpered, his body shuddering with the force of his climax. He collapsed onto Will, their sweat-soaked bodies entwined.

For Will, he could feel the heat of it inside his ass and could see the incredible pleasure on Chase’s face as he orgasmed. And for Chase, the feeling of truly letting go of his seed inside of another human being, free of a condom, triggered a closeness and territorial mark over Will that he immediately realized would never go away. His mind immediately registered the unbreakable bond as what most people called a ‘best friendship’; something Chase had never had. 

Will felt the full weight of Chase’s muscular frame pressing him into the mattress. His heart beat was still elevated with residual tremors after the pounding he’d taken.

The warm river of Chase’s cum flowed deep inside him.

Author Note: This is a one-off submission from the middle of a 31-part series I have called Frat Curious! Check out my reddit page for more info on how to find the rest of this series and more of my writing!

We asked Mack to meet us by our favorite hiking path. It was a favorite summer tradition of ours, meeting out by the quarry and starting a hike around this time in the early evening. By the time we’d get to the top, the sun would soon be setting and as long as we didn’t fuck around too long (we usually did), then we could make it back to our cars just as it hit pitch black out. We also loved it because no one came out here at this time. It was mostly families or kids our age hiking over here and none of them knew the woods like we did, so they’d be long gone before sunset.

Mack pulled up in his car in the lot, parking right next to us, despite there not being a single other car around.

“Hey boys.” He sounded a little tired.

“Hey sup,” I said, pulling him in for a quick hug. “How was training?”

“I’m fucking exhausted man. You guys are killing me wanting to do this hike tonight.” 

Declan tried to rile him up a bit, “don’t be such a bitch. Do you know how many times you forced me out here when I was tired!” Mack met his sassiness with a playful shove.

We set out onto the path, starting the 1.5 mile thirty minutes up to the “peak” overlooking the quarry lake below. It took all of five minutes before Mack had taken his shirt off and tucked it into his back pocket, hiking in shorts and a hat, his filled out body looking thick as we climbed. His chest had a little more hair on it than I remembered last time but he still looked soft all around. 

I hovered back with Declan for a second. “So?” I gave him eyes.

“Sooo??” Declan looked confused.

“Sooo do you think he looks…hot?” I motioned my head up ahead at Mack.

“Oh,” Declan panicked, “I don’t know! Maybe? Yes? I don’t know!” I rolled my eyes and kept moving.

We made it to the top quicker than usual, taking our seats and panting, catching our breaths, a decent sweat having built up for all of us. The sun still had some time to set, but the view was still beautiful, clear, crystal water shimmering down below.

“Thanks for texting,” Mack said, taking a swig of water. “I’m gonna miss this a lot soon.”

“Let’s make sure we come up here again all 5 of us this summer,” I added. 

“Definitely.” Mack responded.

“You think Mack will still make us come up here together when we’re wrinkly and old as shit in 100 years,” Declan said in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off!” Mack threw a stick at Declan who dodged it and giggled.

Declan glanced at me and nudged his head towards Mack. I shook my head as if to say what do you want ME to do? Declan made sure Mack wasn’t looking and mouthed to me, ask him. Please.

I rolled my eyes and mustered some of the newfound bravery I got this year.

“Hey…Mack?” I asked, moving to sit near him.

“Sup?”

Declan came over and barged into the moment, “oh fuck it whatever. Mack I think I might be bi and I wanna test it out with a threesome with you guys. What do you think?”

Mack rolled his eyes and shook his dead, “fuck off Declan, Olly was about to say something for real.”

“Huh? I’m serious,” Declan responded

“Olly, what’s up?” Mack just ignored Declan. 

“Uhh. That, actually. I was gonna say that,” I motioned to Declan.

“What? Huh?” Mack was confused.

“I’m serious! Why does no one ever take me seriously!” Declan pouted.

“Because you’re never serious?” Mack raised his eyebrows.

Declan and Mack went back and forth.

“Fair fine. But I am right now!”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not!”

Mack considered him.

“You think you like guys…? For real?”

“I think so yeah, Olly’s been helping me figure out my shit.”

“How do you think so?”

“Well I’ve only done stuff with him,” Declan pointed to me, “but I’m not not interested in trying with someone else too…”

“Bi…?”

“I think so. I definitely like girls still.”

Mack considered him, thinking. “Olly?”

They both turned towards me.

“I mean there’s no instruction manual on all of this stuff. I think Deck’s figuring his stuff out. And I support him while he does. Maybe a weird proposition but…we thought…maybe the three of us could…ya know…”

Mack contemplated my words. “Okay. Well first off. Deck I fully agree with supporting you, you know I love you and I support you, no matter what,” he paused to squeeze Declan’s shoulder. 

“But…” he considered how to say his next words carefully, “I’m not into guys...I’ve had fun with Olly but it’s kinda a one-off thing I can’t really explain, I think…” Declan looked hurt.

“When I look at you, I just think of you farting and shit, you’re kinda gross dude,” he teased Declan, whose sadness went to anger.

“Oh my god, FUCK you Mack. I bet you’re fucking dirty anyway.” 

Well this was going well. I tried to mediate.

“What if…” I started, rubbing my chin, “we treated it like how two straight guys might with a girl…” they both stared at me. “Like…you’re both doing stuff with me only. But Deck can at least feel out whether he would want to be with the guy too in that situation?”

Again, they stared at me. Mack started, “is this just you manipulating us into getting both of our dicks?” He grinned.

“What?!” I threw my hands up, “no no! I’m just trying to help Declan! I’m offering myself up for the greater good!!” I tried to make myself look innocent.

“Fine.” Declan still looked offended about Mack’s views of him being gross.

Mack thought it over. “I really didn’t have on my bingo card getting some around Declan in my life honestly…” Declan still looked hurt and Mack seemed to realize he needed to ease up, “but…yeah that could be kinda fun…”

I decided to take the lead. I nudged closer to Mack and dropped to my knees in front of him. I raised my eyebrows as a question to him and he gave me a slow nod, eyes locked on mine.

I reached up and hooked my fingers into his waist band and pulled his shorts and underwear down in one motion as he lifted his butt off the rock face underneath. Out plopped his thick, soft dick, surrounded by dark hair, with his huge sweaty balls hanging below from the hot evening. 

I glanced to Declan, whose eyes were glued to Mack’s lap, clearly locked onto Mack’s manly looking package. His eyes were wide. It was clearly the biggest dick he’d seen in real life before and he looked like I did the first time I’d seen its girth.

I moved in and took Mack’s soft, large, dick into my mouth and started sucking. It was extra sweaty tonight after our hike, tasing extremely bitter and raw, but I didn’t mind it given how hot this was, performing for Declan. 

I bobbed up and down as I felt Mack harden in my mouth, until he eventually reached his full seven thick inches. Per usual, I struggled mightily to work his large cock, but did my best to service him as his hand played with my hair. He stayed relatively quiet, probably fighting back moans with Declan nearby, trying to seem tough. I forced him as deep into my mouth as I could, choking on his beast and gagging out spit, my eyes watering.

“Fuckkkk.” Mack let out a low groan unable to hold back, “god you’re so good at sucking dick, Olly.” 

I popped his cock out of my mouth but kept stroking it, smiling up at Mack. “Declan, come here,” I patted on the rock, next to Mack.

He moved to sit next to Mack, getting as close to him as he could without actually making physical contact. He stared down at me as I worked Mack’s cock. 

“Guys I’m definitely bi…” Declan whispered.

Mack’s curled grin of pleasure opened into a big laugh and he put an arm loosely around Declan, squeezing his opposite shoulder. “Glad that seeing our friend suck my dick unlocked something in you,” he teased.

“Oh fuck you!” Declan rolled his eyes and threw Mack’s arm off his shoulder.

“I bet you’d like that,” Mack winked at him and I smiled with my mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking his sweaty meat. 

Declan lifted himself up and stripped himself, now with a shirt on but naked from the waist down, his shorts bunched around his ankles. He was already rock hard. He started stroking his uncut penis.

“I think mine could eat yours as a snack little guy,” Mack teased again.

Before Declan could respond I moved my mouth to his cock, in between getting a word in, “no size bragging Mack, I love Declan’s cock,” I emphasized the word cock to try to stroke Declan’s ego. I did genuinely love his body and I wasn’t going to let Mack get a word of teasing in about their size difference.

I took Declan’s dick into my mouth, his saltiness mixing with Mack’s, feeding my primal desire for man.

“Oh, mmhhm,” Declan settled into me blowing him for the second time today. I kept stroking Mack’s cock, working one dick with my mouth and the other with my hand as they both now let out low moans, both trying to hold back the audible sounds of their pleasure. 

“So hot.” Declan said, playing with my hair now, and moving his eyes between my face and Mack’s dick as I stroked it. Now he was trying to perform.

I lifted off of Declan and switched, mouth to Mack and hand on Declan, again feeling their unique tastes mixing, a cocktail of sweat and cock. I continued every minute switching back and forth, alternating, and loving the position I was in.

“Can I hold it Mack?” Declan asked, looking at our friend.

“Still not my thing, sorry buddy,” Mack said as I continued sucking him off. 

“Please? It’s so big.” I couldn’t tell if Declan was actually begging for it or if he was just trying to seduce Mack with a compliment.

“Ughhh, fine.” I lifted off of Mack and moved my mouth back to the adorable, smaller Declan, as he immediately took Mack into his hand and began jerking him off.

“Jesus Christ this thing is so fucking thick. I can’t even get my hand around it*…*,” Declan was mesmerized. 

“Keep jerking me. Faster.” Mack closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore that it was Declan masturbating him. 

“I’m close already guys,” Declan panted, less than a minute into our new arrangement, “fuck…fuck…Olly…I’m gonna cum…” he sped up jerking Mack as warm shots of his cum spilled into my mouth, saltier than ever after our hike. I scrounged my nose at the bitter, salty taste, but kept sucking for his pleasure. He met my mouth with upward thrusts and high pitched whimpers.

“Olly, come here,” Mack demanded, pushing Declan’s hand off of his dick, clearly still not loving their contact. 

I quickly moved back to Mack and sucked him with everything I had, working the base of his dick with my hand underneath. Declan just stared as I worked Mack. After a minute or two, I felt Mack’s thighs start to tense up.

“Cumming.” Mack said, matter of factly, as I lifted off of his dick, wanting to give Declan a show. I jerked him furiously and opened my mouth wide as Mack grunted and released shots of semen at my face, hitting my mouth, outstretched tongue, nose, lips, a little bit of everything. His seed was even saltier than Declan’s, after his lacrosse training and the hike. 

As he finished, I licked my lips, and wiped my nose with my hands, sucking Mack’s cum off of my face to clean up. The overwhelming taste of their cum stained my tongue.

Author Note: This is a scene from a long form 50 part series of mine called Northern Lights! Check out my reddit page for more info on how to find my writing and this whole series!

The sky stretched out overhead, with Summer at its peak and the weeks of blue collar labor compounding the muscle and mind of the boys. Mid-July out on the farm was often the most brutal part of the year, with temperatures sometimes hitting close to one hundred degrees, and afternoon storms often rolling in on a moments notice to turn a blue sky into an apocalyptic darkness. 

“We’re working to get through as much as we can before the clouds roll in, sir.” Ty explained to Wyatt’s father, Stan, who spent most of his time on the road, trusting the twenty-four year old to keep operations running smooth.

“Good. Y’all have had a good Summer so far, no thanks to my boys.” Stan often referred to Cole as his second son and typically lumped them together in his disappointment at their productivity. He was a hard nosed, conservative, Midwestern man through and through, who took no bullshit and wasn’t one to show much care. His wife had passed away when Wyatt was a baby, leaving a deep void in their lives that only grew larger as Wyatt went through young adulthood.

“Dad, we’re pulling sixty hour weeks out here…” Wyatt snarled.

“Son, I could replace you and Cole both with one minimum wager…you’re lucky y’all have these jobs.”

Cole kept his head down in these moments, grateful to be able to bring in some extra cash, especially with college approaching in just a few weeks at the state university.

“Ty, come over here.” Stan said, low and commanding.

Ty put down the tool he’d been using and left the other guys to filter into the barn with his boss, “yessir?”

“Some of the bigger operations about an hour away came to me and asked if they could come to you with a job. Didn’t think it would be honorable not to let you know.”

Ty lifted his head, proud of himself for earning a name. “Oh. Thank you, sir.” He hesitated to say more.

“Whatcha think about that?” Stan asked, observing how the hefty and strong, baby-faced Ty responded.

“I’m grateful to be here sir. And I like leading shit…errr…stuff.” He rubbed the back of his sweat-soaked neck.

Stan let out a deep grunt of a chuckle, “Good man. I know watching over my kid ain’t easy. I appreciate that you keep his head on straight.”

Ty blushed, thinking about the last month, a rare occurrence for the usually laid-back farmhand. On one hand, he’d had Wyatt give him a blowjob out in the quarry to celebrate America’s birthday. He was conflicted in not really understanding what Wyatt might be going through and also having no clue on how to have a real conversation about it. But he was also aware of it, protected his secret, and had been keen to keep an even closer eye on the younger guy the last few weeks to ensure he was doing okay.

“Tyler, I’m going to increase your pay by 10%. This has been the best Summer the farm’s had since I moved out of running things day to day. You’re a good young man.” Stan held out his hand to Ty, who took it and smiled ear to ear. Wyatt’s dad was tough but the farm was his life and livelihood, and he compensated Ty far more than he would’ve earned from any other job in town.

“Thank you, sir!” Ty beamed, “anything else, sir? This storm is coming in and we need to get more done today.”

Stan smiled at him, “keep Wyatt out of trouble. Fair or not, that’s part of this job too.” 

“Yessir”. Ty returned to the other guys and farm hands. Stan made his way back to the main house two miles up the road without saying goodbye to his son or the others.

“Let’s go boys! Double time!” Ty picked up some tools and yelled. 

“Ty we’re gonna get stuck out here if we don’t get the fuck outta here soon!” Wyatt complained.

“Better work fast then!” Ty responded, raising his eyebrows.

“Ty you know I hate to agree with this lazy fucker but he’s right…” Joe looked up at the sky as it quickly shifted from a baby blue to a deep gray.

Ty looked up and gritted his teeth in frustration. He dismissed the other farm hands but kept the boys there working. Around 6:30, the rain started falling out of nowhere, a sudden monsoon appearing overhead.

“FUCK!” Cole shouted, beckoning to Wyatt who sprinted alongside him into the barn.

Ty squinted his eyes through the downpour and threw down a rake in frustration before trudging towards the open barn door. Joe ran to grab his bag from a nearby tree before finally getting into the barn after them, soaking wet like he’d just jumped into a pool.

“Fuck!!! I’m drenched!!!” Joe shook like a wet dog.

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU!” Wyatt screamed, “now we’re fucking stuck here, you fucking idiot!”

“Shut the FUCK up Wyatt.” Ty looked frustrated, maybe even at himself, though he wouldn’t admit it.

“At least we have a few drinks and snacks…” Joe dumped out the backpack he’d run to grab. Two plastic whiskey bottles and a few loose bags of chips fell onto the ground.

“There you go!” Ty’s frown lifted immediately, “see boys? A little slumber party out here!” 

Cole smiled at the chance for another moment of basking in the simpler life before he left in a few weeks.

“This is so fucking stupid.” Wyatt huffed, crossing his arms.

Joe smirked, “you need to lighten up twerp.”

Cole walked to his best friend, “Wyatt, it’s fine in here. A little cold but the drinks will help.”

A crash of lightning struck overhead, briefly lighting up the barn through slim cracks in the wood on the sides. Ty switched on a battery-powered lantern and hung it from a nearby rafter in between the two levels of the barn, lighting up just enough space for them to sit around against bails of hay.

Joe popped open a bottle and began to pass it around. Wyatt rolled his eyes and took it, reluctantly.

“When do you leave?” Joe asked Cole.

“About a month now. Soon.” Cole took a swig and smiled.

“Dumb.” Wyatt snarled.

“Whiny bitch boy,” Joe grinned and stuck his tongue out at Wyatt, “here, you need this more than we do.” He handed the bottle back to him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wyatt took it anyway and gulped down a second drink, feeling it warm his throat.

Joe grinned, “you’re a sad boy because your best friend is leaving you.”

Ty felt a ping of guilt and awkwardness, not wanting the conversation to go there but not wanting to make it even worse for Wyatt.

“Fuck you. I’m not sad. I’m just saying that going off somewhere is dumb.” Wyatt grimaced.

“Sure kid.” Joe wasn’t buying it.

“Wyatt I won’t be far, and - ” Cole started before Wyatt cut him off.

“Do whatever the fuck you want Cole! I don’t fucking care!” He lashed out.

Ty was taken aback, wondering if things were even worse for him than Ty realized. “Joe did you finish with that section of the field today that…” he tried to change the subject.

“No work talk, cmon Ty!” Cole playfully shoved him, “Wy, what is it about here that you love? You hate the farm.”

Wyatt eyed his best friend, taking in his handsome face, his adorable and soft features, his ears that were just slightly too big for his rounded head. “I don’t even know. It’s just home, ya know? What’s so bad about home?” He looked at the ground.

Joe nodded and held the bottle up, “here, here kid.” 

Wyatt met his salute and rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back a smirk.

Ty eyed him up and ventured into the unknown territory of trying to actually help, “what is it about home, Wyatt? The people?”

Wyatt held his gaze for a few seconds, trying to send a message of what are you doing. Ty held his eyes and gave a small nod of encouragement.

Wyatt took a deep breath, “I dunno, maybe. We know the land, the stores, the people, the…friends,” he quickly turned his eyes to Cole, “If it ain’t broke, why try to fix it?”

“Half the shit you touch breaks though, so you create things for us to fix!” Joe bellowed out laughing. Ty rolled his eyes at the group’s inability to be semi-serious for even ten seconds.

“I’ll miss this though, guys,” Cole smiled at the three of them, “y’all are my best buds here.”

“Yessir! Stuck in a barn with some whiskey and you fuckers!” Joe took another swig before realizing they’d all already finished one bottle.

“I’m gonna miss you kid.” Ty tried a new tactic to put the emotional spotlight on himself. “Won’t be the same without you here.” He smiled at Cole.

“GAAAY!” Joe yelled.

“Can you fuck off, Joe? Stop…” Ty said more seriously than he intended.

“Jesus Ty, my bad man, I didn’t know you were so sensitive!” Joe laughed.

Wyatt stared at the ground, clearly upset, a small tear even materializing on his eyelid. Even Joe picked up on it.

Joe eyed him curiously and shifted on the ground, sitting up a bit. “My bad. Sorry. Cole I’m gonna miss you too.” Ty gave him a slight nod of approval.

Wyatt sat in silence, continuing to stare downward.

“I’ll miss you guys too. But I promise I really won’t be far. And I’ll be back a ton.” Cole said it directly towards Wyatt, who didn’t raise his head to meet his eyes.

“Let’s drink to that!” Joe opened the second bottle, took a huge gulp, and passed it around again.

They finished the second bottle and the couple chips they had for food. As 9:00 approached, the long work day and drinks took their toll as the storm raged overhead, with water beating down on the roof, making it harder and harder to have a conversation amongst the four of them. 

They decided that the pile of hay on the ground wasn’t large enough for all four. The older and larger Ty and Joe took the larger pile on the ground floor while Wyatt and Cole made their way up to the loft, where there was a smaller pile. There, they found a small mess of soft straw barely bigger than the size of a twin bed.

As they settled in, Cole instinctually lowered his overalls down over his pale, slim shoulders. He slowly pulled them down over his soft chest and gave his own pits a whiff, smelling the results of the long work day and wrinkling his nose.

Wyatt fought the immense urge to stare at Cole's body but couldn't help himself from the deep pain and excitement that mixed within him as Cole stripped down to just his boxers. Wyatt removed his own clothes and looked down at his tanner and bonier, rougher frame. 

The two friends curled up on the pile of hay, trying to keep some distance between them, but quickly beginning to shiver in the colder temperatures that the storm had suddenly brought on. Wyatt felt his heart beat racing as he watched Cole’s ghost white chest steadily rise and fall next to him. He tried to focus on the sound of the rain pelting the barn's tin roof, but his senses were overwhelmed the heat and intense, raw scent radiating from Cole's body.

Wyatt tried turning over to take his mind off his best friend lying next to him...and failed. His heart continued to race as he subconsciously remembered how Cole had felt in his hand and imagined what he might even taste like. Suddenly, Wyatt felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He turned to see Cole looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. 

"Are you okay?" Cole asked softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of the storm.

Wyatt hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm just…I’m…yeah I’m fine...”

Cole glared at him, his face illuminated by a flash of lightning outside. “What’s wrong?”

Wyatt's heart swelled and he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for his best friend. Without thinking, he nudged himself closer to Cole, pressing his legs up against his best friend from feet up to the middle of their thighs, stopping just short of touching their groins together.

Cole looked up at Wyatt, his eyes wide with surprise and confusion. "Wyatt...what are you doing?"

“I’m freezing…” Wyatt panicked but responded with what he considered a decent excuse. 

Cole chuckled and loosely put his hand on Wyatt’s arm, “okay yeah that’s fair…”

Feeling awkward at their closeness but still limited contact, Wyatt flipped over and backed his bony butt into his best friend’s groin, pulling Cole’s arm under his own, and over his chest, pressing himself into a little spoon position.

“Wyatt…what…” Cole whispered as he held back from fully embracing their cuddling position.

“I’m cold.” Wyatt kept his response short.

“This is pretty gay Wy…” Cole let out as a soft chuckle, more to diffuse the potential for judgment later on, than actually feeling awkward.

Wyatt gritted his teeth and felt his eyes well again. He bit down to hold back the tears from fully forming. 

Cole eventually settled into holding his best friend more liberally, not in a sexual or even sensual way, but comfortable with the close contact with his best friend that he’d known since birth. As Cole felt sleeping coming on, comforted by the hammering of rain above and Wyatt’s soft skin warming him, his best friend laid in front of him overwhelmed with emotion. Pleasure from knowing how close Cole’s naked body was, pressed up against him, and fear over what he was feeling.

He’d been holding his breath, he realized, ever since Cole had settled into this position. Cole’s breathing was deep and even, with soft puffs of air against the back of Wyatt’s neck. He could feel the lean, small muscle of Cole’s arm draped around him, holding his chest just under his nipple.

Wyatt gritted his teeth. Cole’s casual comment that this was gay had stung more than a slap. He shifted and rolled back over to face his friend, who opened his eyes, again confused. He untangled himself from Cole’s arm, the loss of contact leaving his skin feeling instantly chilly and exposed. Cole’s pale skin looked almost translucent, his lips slightly parted as he dazed close to sleep. 

Wyatt slowly moved his hand down and watched as Cole’s eyes followed it, his best friend’s head still.

Wyatt rested his hand on Cole’s bare hip, feeling the soft skin. He paused, his breath catching in his throat. Holding Cole’s gaze, Wyatt slowly slipped his hand into Cole’s underwear, feeling his light pubic hair and eventually settling onto Cole’s small, soft penis. He closed his fingers around the delicate package, simply feeling it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around Cole’s balls and letting the shaft settle into his palm. Wyatt held his hand around his friend’s full, small package and kept their eye contact direct and unwavering, neither of them speaking a word.

Cole stayed soft down low but his chest clearly picked up in speed. Neither of them dared to acknowledge what was happening. Slowly, Wyatt allowed his thumb to move. He traced the smooth, velvety skin, feeling the distinct ridge of the head of Cole’s penis, the delicate soft texture. It was coiled up and tiny in the cold, damp barn. Wyatt loved it, knowing that it almost more sensual that he was feeling it in this gentle, natural state.

Wyatt caressed his friend’s balls, careful to not hurt him, but desperate to learn the shape and outline of every millimeter of his private area. Feeling its exact weight, the small vein on the side of the shaft, Wyatt studied it by touch, careful not to miss one single spot. He felt a strange reverence towards it, as if he were holding something sacred, this special part of Cole’s body.

Ten full minutes like this stretched out from the tension coiling in Wyatt’s gut. Finally, he felt something different. Cole shifted and a soft sigh escaped his lips as his penis clearly started to grow in Wyatt’s palm. Wyatt froze, his hand clamped tight, his mind screaming at him to pull away.

Cole’s voice was a raw whisper. "Wyatt…what…what are you doing?"

Wyatt’s throat closed. He couldn't form a lie, his brain short-circuiting. The only thing that came out was a plea.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. "Please, Cole…”

He could feel Cole’s mind working, trying to process everything. There was a long silence, broken only by a loud crash of thunder that rattled the barn.

"I'm just upset that you're leaving," Wyatt choked out. The dam had broken. “You’re going to forget about me. I know you will. I have nothing here except you.” The vulnerability in his own voice shocked him. He had never expressed emotion like this to anyone, not even Cole. They communicated in jokes and slaps, not in rambling fear and abandonment.

Cole was quiet for another long moment. Wyatt could tell Cole’s heart was speeding up, because he could feel the pulse from his semi-hard penis that he was still holding.

"Wyatt…are you gay?"

Wyatt squeezed his eyes shut. Tears finally escaped, sliding down his cheeks. He couldn't answer. A yes would make it real. A no would be a lie. He said nothing. His silence was the only answer he could give.

Wyatt felt tears slowly making their way down his own face, and sensed Cole’s glaring gaze, glued to his face. Wyatt looked up at his best friend with innocent, terrified, eyes and panicked as Cole moved his own hand down towards where Wyatt’s was buried in his underwear. 

“Cole…” Wyatt pleaded.

But he was shocked when Cole’s hand kept going down to the bottom of his boxers, slowly pulling them downward from the bottom and letting loose his now fully hard six inches, with Wyatt’s hand gripping onto it for dear life. 

Cole’s groin now fully exposed, Wyatt looked down and took in the sight of the pale cut penis in his hand and the small, soft balls that hung below, falling on his right thigh from gravity lying on his side. Wyatt began to really stroke his best friend now, rubbing his hand up and down the shaft, stopping near the head to swirl the pre-cum into the glands with his thumb. Both of their breathing picked up in speed and volume, as he pumped Cole’s dick. Cole closed his eyes briefly, letting out a soft moan and involuntarily flexing his dick in Wyatt’s hand, which only served to make him speed up faster. Wyatt could feel Cole ever so subtly grinding into his hand, his dick pulsing with a life of its own.

“Wyatt…” Cole choked out a whimper and grabbed Wyatt’s wrist, stopping him momentarily. He shifted, panting. “Stop…wait…”

Wyatt froze, his hand still holding his best friend’s hard cock, some shame washing over him. He started to pull his hand away, giving in to his shame, but Cole’s fingers tightened around his wrist, not pushing him away, but holding him in place, still.

Cole took a shaky breath as the storm continued to rage overhead. “Are you?” he asked again, his voice softer this time, “are you gay?”

“I…I really don’t know,” Wyatt whispered, the words tearing from his raw throat. It was the truest thing he’d said all night. Blowing Ty at the quarry had made him realize that this was clearly more than infatuation with his best friend, but it was Cole, and only Cole, who stuck out in his mind twenty four hours a day.

Cole searched Wyatt’s face, looking for a lie or that he was holding back, “what do you mean you don’t know? You either are or you aren’t, right? It’s okay Wy…”

“I’m being honest, Cole,” Wyatt pleaded, his voice cracking. Another tear escaped and slid down his cheek “I swear. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I just…I don’t want you to leave. And I want to make you feel good…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to where he still held Cole’s penis in his hand.

He could see the war playing out in Cole’s head through his eyes. Cole turned the idea over in his head. He knew he was straight and didn’t really understand what Wyatt was going through at all, but he also cared about his best friend and didn’t want to hurt him. He also thought about how he wanted to explore more of the world and that it might mean things weren’t always so simple. And all at the same time, in the simplest way, it felt pretty damn good to have his dick tugged by someone.

Slowly, Cole loosened his grip on Wyatt’s wrist. He didn’t pull away. He let go, leaving the power in Wyatt’s literal hands.

Wyatt took a breath and resumed jerking his friend off, his movement more confident now knowing he wouldn’t be stopped. He slid his hand up and down the six inches of length, feeling an increasing slickness that was beginning to gather up and down the shaft. Cole let out a low moan, his head falling back against the pile of hay they were using as a pillow. His eyes fluttered shut.

Emboldened, Wyatt shifted his body, needing more contact, more of Cole. His free hand, which had been lying between them, reached out. He hesitated for a second, then slid it around Cole’s narrow waist, his fingers finding the silky smooth, soft skin of his friend’s ass. He cupped one of the cheeks, feeling the surprising squishy roundness of his little, soft butt.

Cole’s eyes shot open at the new contact on his backside. “Wyatt?” he murmured, a note of confusion in his tone. The feeling of a hand on his dick was one thing, a pleasure he could easily compartmentalize. But his best friend rubbing his ass felt more personal and strangely more intimate.

Wyatt didn’t answer. He just squeezed gently, kneading the smooth flesh as his other hand continued its steady stroking. Wyatt felt Cole’s tiny glutes contracting under his touch as he jerked him off, eliciting whimpers from his best friend.

Cole’s hips began to move again, bucking into one of Wyatt’s hands and against the other from behind. His breathing grew harder and faster, his butt now really starting to squeeze. “Wyatt…I’m getting close…”

Wyatt gave a quick, encouraged nod, and sped up, rubbing one thumb against Cole’s frenulum while he dared to move his other hand further around Cole’s ass until his fingers were just barely reaching into his still hairless crack and brushing close to his hole.

“Wyatt…” Cole sounded scared.

“I won’t go further, I promise.” Wyatt didn’t want to freak him out, he just wanted to feel as much of Cole as he could. Cole returned him a small, trustful nod.

Wyatt studied Cole’s face, saw the strain and pleasure in his eyes. A flash of lightning illuminated them for just a second, freezing the image in Wyatt’s mind: Cole’s lips parted, his hair brushed to the side, and his body arching into Wyatt’s touch.

With a final, desperate gasp, Cole convulsed and moaned, his sounds drowned out by the rain. One thick, hot rope of cum shot from him, shooting onto Wyatt’s stomach with the rest dribbling out and pooling in his hand as Cole whimpered and jerked his head forward in ecstasy. Wyatt slowly stroked his best friend through his orgasm to the finish, milking every last drop out of the tip. Cole brushed Wyatt’s hand to slow him down, the sensitivity becoming overwhelming as he finished. Wyatt slowly withdrew his slick hand from Cole’s penis, the other still resting on Cole’s ass, not wanting to let go.

They stared at each other for a moment, panting and their minds racing through what might happen next for them. Cole could see pain in Wyatt’s face for the first time in his life.

“Wyatt…” Cole whispered, somberly, “I’m sorry…”

Wyatt understood his apology for what he couldn’t truly offer, gritting his teeth and feeling one last tear slide down his cheek. He pulled his other hand back and turned to face away from his best friend, his own meat pulsing in his underwear and begging for an attention that wouldn’t come.

He heard Cole slide his boxers back up but was surprised to then feel Cole’s arm return to its big spoon position under his own arm and across his chest, this time pulling him in with more intention to snuggle. Wyatt backed up into his friend’s embrace, feeling Cole hold him tightly with their bodies intertwined. After a few minutes, Cole even moved his leg over Wyatt’s to entangle them further. Neither said another word as they fell into a deep sleep together.

Last Part

Author Note: This is part 3-4 of a 7-part fully finished series. Check out my reddit page for more info on my writing and where to find my work!

Part 1

No answer and now I was cursing myself for pulling the blackout shades so tight, making it too dark to see a single fucking thing.

Whoever it was clearly slipped inside the door.

Okay, now I was officially freaking out. I could just picture the headlines now: naked college senior turned model fends off spring break intruder with his dick swinging around.

As whoever it was got closer to my bed, I could make out the shape; shorter than Xavier and small, but not slim.

“Mason?” I sat up a little, clutching the sheet to my waist. “What the fuck are you doing in here? It’s two in the morning. You okay?” Suddenly it hit me. “Wait, is Xavier okay?!”

He didn’t speak. Oh, he must be sleep walking. “Mason…buddy. You’re sleep walking. Wake up!”

He shifted his weight, his hands clearing fidgeting at his sides. “Shh. No I’m not. Relax.”

Relax?! I was freaking out inside and scared. Was this a dare? It had to be a dare. “I’m naked under here, man. Back up a step.”

He didn’t. If anything, he moved closer. I felt the mood change when his hand moved, slow and hesitant, until his fingertips reached down and brushed my stomach. My abs flexed on instinct. His touch was warm and shaky. 

Oh. 

Oh wow. 

He was clearly feeling my abs. 

“Mason, what are you…” I didn’t stop him.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” he whispered, his voice cracking like he’d been holding the words in for hours. “Please don’t ask questions…unless you want me to stop?”

My brain was short circuiting. I’d never once looked at this immature little shit in a sexual way. He was far less attractive than Anthony, even if he was still kinda cute, but this was the guy who’d been making fart jokes and calling everything gay or lame his whole life…well, at least the part of his life I knew best, which was honestly pretty outdated at this point.

I couldn’t say anything because I was too interested, too curious, and too horny to stop someone from wanting to touch me. What guy wouldn’t want that?

He took the hint and slid his hand up and down, studying my abs. I just stared at the dark outline of his face. I could hear him take a deep breath and then he, at the speed of molasses dribbling out of a jar, moved his hand under the covers, searching for my penis.

His hand was warm and he knew exactly what he was going for. In the dark, with my sense of touch and hearing elevated, I could make out each finger and his palm as it slowly explored my soft shaft and then my balls as if he were performing an exam. My dick twitched, already interested, even if the rest of me was still catching up.

I swallowed. Fuck it. “Come in here. Take your clothes off.”

The words came out more directly than I meant them to, but they got the point across. He removed his tee over his head so fast that he almost tripped in the pitch black, then shoved his shorts and boxers down. I couldn’t see a thing but I could tell he wasn’t wearing anything now. Xavier’s best friend, standing naked in my bedroom in the middle of the night.

He stood there shaking, maybe waiting for me to change my mind or deciding whether he was ready to go through with something we’d never be able to take back. I pulled the sheet aside and scooted over. “Hey, come here.”

I lifted the sheet just enough for him to join me. I could feel his body wet with sweat, likely from nerves. He stayed on his back but our bare legs were now fully touching. 

I should’ve stopped it right there. Xavier was literally twenty feet away in his room. Mason was straight. Or at least that’s what I thought. But he was trembling from nervous excitement, he wasn’t the same young guy I used to know, and my dick was already leaking in his hand.

I reached up slow, cupping the back of his neck, my hand brushing against his soft brown hair. “You sure you want this. Because once we start…”

“Please,” he whined, turning onto his side to face me. “Can we not talk? I want this, Julian. Don’t ask me again. Stop if you want to.”

That did it. I kissed him hard, swallowing the little gasp he let out when my tongue pushed in. His kiss back was messy. I bit his bottom lip and he moaned into my mouth, loud enough that I had to clap a hand over it.

“Shh,” I warned, my thumb stroking his cheek.  “Xavier’s down the hall…” His face was totally smooth.

He nodded frantically. 

I let my hand drift down his chest, feeling a soft, smooth belly that had had a little bit of extra skin to it. When I reached his dick, a shot of shock went through my system. I couldn’t believe whose penis I was touching. But the way he was leaking also reminded me that this was a young man, capable of going after what he wanted, the same as me.

His dick was a nice size, probably between five and six inches (14cm) and cut. I gave him a slow pump and his whole body shook.

“Sensitive?” I teased.

“Fuck…yeah,” he panted against my palm. “Don’t stop.”

I had no intention of stopping now. I worked him lazily, learning what made him react, thumbing his frenulum area every few strokes until he was whimpering nonstop. When I let go he actually whined like I’d taken his favorite toy.

“Patience,” I chuckled, shifting lower.

I pushed the sheet down to his waist and took my time looking. His nipples were small and rock hard. I leaned in and sucked on one, causing him to arch his back. I did it again, then grazed it with my teeth until he was clawing at my shoulders.

“Oh my god…” he whispered. “Please…”

“Please what, Mason?” He had goosebumps. “Use your words.”

He squirmed. “Can you, uh…can you…uhm…”

“Speak, Mason.” I whispered.

“Can you finger me?” He said, nervously.

I slid a hand between his legs, cupping his balls. They were also smooth and a little small. When my fingers brushed his just barely hairy hole, he jolted like I’d shocked him.

“You like that?” I asked, circling it. I was surprised that his taint and cheeks felt so hairless and smooth. There was the faintest prickle of hair, just enough to feel, around the actual opening but I wouldn’t have expected a gross, straight high school senior to feel this ‘delicate’.

He nodded into the dark space, biting his lip.

I reached for the lube in my nightstand drawer and slicked two fingers. “Spread your legs.”

I pressed one finger in slow. He was hot inside, impossibly tight, and clenching hard before he forced himself to breathe and let me in deeper. When I curled my finger and found his spot his whole body seized, a strangled moan ripping out of him.

I clamped my hand again. “You gotta be quiet or I stop.”

He nodded his head against my palm, his eyes pleading. I added the second finger and rubbed his prostate until his cock was literally drooling onto his stomach in a steady stream.

I leaned in close. “You want me to fuck you?”

An instant nod.

I pulled my fingers out slow and reached for the nightstand to grab a condom. I rolled him onto his stomach, 

*Jesus Christ…*his butt.

Round, fat, smooth, pale…the kind of bubble butt that makes straight guys jealous and gay guys wild. I grabbed two big handfuls and squeezed. The flesh spread between my fingers, jiggling when I let go. How did he have this juicy thing?!

“Okay, you gotta try to be quiet,” I warned. “You wake your friends and we’re done for.”

I spread his cheeks and just stared for a second, my thumb rubbing over his hole. Fuck, it was beautiful. He immediately went from a six to a solid eight in my book, after seeing how perfect this ass had become.

I slid a condom onto my dick, eight inches and thick, uncut, curving up, and lined it with that tiny, small, locked shut target. I knew I was going to last a while too, after Kai just a few hours ago.

“Breathe, Mason.” I said.

He turned to look and his eyes went insanely wide when he saw how big I was. He buried his head down into my pillow. 

I couldn’t believe he was this closeted little freak on the side. Given he’d been so bold as to come in here like this, I had to guess he’d been fucking guys, likely for years. I never would’ve guessed that he was this experienced from knowing him years ago but I guess sometimes people surprised you with their closeted or secretive side. 

I pushed down and the head popped in. He screamed into the pillow, loud, and I froze. “You okay? What happened!?”

He nodded, frantically, “yeah, yeah…I’m…fine…all good…”

I took my time because, even if he was probably pretty experienced, I knew I might be bigger than some others guys he’d been with. Sometimes I honestly hated my length…I would’ve been just fine with something perfectly average, like Mason’s.

I was only an inch at most inside him, but it almost sounded like he was whimpering…or maybe he was crying? Not sad tears, but clearly overwhelmed tears. Maybe from it being me?

I went extremely slow, taking very slow pulses with just an inch or two inside him, giving him plenty of time to adjust. He was almost shaking as I fed him another inch, then another, watching the back of his head the whole time. 

I could feel the opening finally starting to loosen up a bit, after what was probably almost ten full minutes. I started moving a little faster, but still kept it to less than half of my dick in his ass. Soon, I was fucking him steady and his muffled moans were getting swallowed whole by my pillow.

“Can I push more in?” I asked.

“There’s more?!” He grunted back. 

It made me smile. “Yeah a lot more. Are you okay?”

Mason whispered. “I’m…yeah…I’m okay. But maybe just keep it where it is.”

I was disappointed but understood. I so badly wanted to feel what that fat bubble butt would be like against my groin, bouncing and jiggling, but I did as he asked and kept it at only halfway in, sliding in and out, still in absolute heaven from the crazy tightness of his ass.

“You’re a good boy, Mason” I whispered, kissing the back of his hair. I couldn’t believe it was Mason. “You feel incredible.” The bed started creaking.

“Mhhuhmmm…it feels so…so…good.” He sounded like a mess. He was clearly whimpering into the pillow and clenching his hands around it for dear life. Soon, every thrust was punching another muffled cry out of him. I reached down and around his body to wrap my hand around his dick, jerking like I’d learned he liked. “Julian…Jul…I…oh, god…” he was completely under my spell.

It took seconds, thirty at most, and he was straight up screaming into my pillow. I was laughing and smiling, feeling his dick shoot loads of cum all over my hand and my bed. His fat ass clenched even tighter, trying to milk it out of me and failing. He kept cumming, for what seemed like forever, and was literally shaking through his orgasm.

I wasn’t done and I didn’t stop. 

I just kept on fucking through his come-down. His cries turned softer and oversensitive and sweat dripped off my chest onto his back. The whole room smelled like cum now, from his load soaking into my sheet.

I lasted another five minutes, at least, to the point that when I reached around, his cock was soaked and already hard again. I didn’t want to blue ball him but I was finally ready.

When I got close I pulled out fast and ripped the condom off. “Turn over, Mason! Turn over!!”

He quickly flipped over, looking startled and taking my lead. I jerked off my long, uncut dick in his face as Mason’s eyes were staring at it, looking hypnotized. “Open your mouth.”

He did as he was told, his mouth wide, his tongue out, and the tears still drying on the edge of his eyes.

I gave it one more base to tip stroke and fucking exploded. The first rope shot into his hair, the second smeared across his cheek, and the third finally landed with a splatter directly on his tongue. The fourth, fifth, and sixth spread out, painting his face, mouth, and forehead.

I milked the last drops onto his lips and collapsed beside him, panting.

Mason looked wrecked. My cum was soaking into his face and hair, and his chest was rising and falling, his hole probably gaping under the sheet.

I leaned over and kissed his cheek on the one spot that looked dry and clean. “You good, dude?”

He nodded, slow, his eyes still glassy. After my orgasm, I realized this seemed like a lot for him, which I guess was fair, since I was older and he was Xavier’s best friend. 

“Hey, come here, bud.” I pulled the blanket up over us both and tucked him against my side with his head against my shoulder. I used the sheet to wipe off his face and after two or three minutes, his breathing finally evened out.

I just fucked Xavier’s ‘straight’ best friend in the house I grew up in. And it was pretty fucking awesome. 

Holy shit.

Author Note: Check out my Reddit page for more info on my writing and how to find more of it!

Part 1

The farm kicked off its Summer operations with a bang after a great Spring. There had been the right mix of weather that typically set up for a season with good crop. With their drunken circle jerk behind them, Ty had the three boys and their countless other seasonal coworkers running ten to twelve hour days in service of Wyatt’s family’s business. 

The first three weeks of Summer had been sixty plus hour weeks that had driven Cole and Wyatt straight to bed every single night, their bodies aching from the physical labor that Ty and Joe somehow managed year round. 

Right before the Fourth of July, Ty was in the middle of grinding them through their longest day of their Summer thus far, a 6:00AM start that didn’t wrap until close to 7:00PM.

“God damnit Ty, I’m fucking exhausted, I can barely see straight!” Wyatt whined, 50% as productive as Cole and maybe 25% compared to the older guys.

“Stop being such a whiny little bitch!” Joe mouthed off, sweat pouring down his forehead. 

Cole hung back with his best friend for a second and put his hand on Wyatt’s exposed shoulder, “you got this man, we’re almost done then it’s a long weekend.” He gave him a gentle squeeze of support.

“This is bullshit. I don’t wanna do this anymore!” Wyatt complained.

“You could go away to school?” Cole suggested, like he always did. 

Wyatt rolled his eyes, having had this same conversation dozens of times the last two years. The only interest he had in college was following his best friend wherever he went for more shenanigans. 

“Okay boys, I think that’s enough before the holiday!” Ty called out, clapping his rough, callused hands. His blonde, moppy hair clung to his soaked head, running sweat down onto his soft but muscular shoulders and chest, that showed from underneath his overalls. 

“Jesus, Ty that was brutal,” Cole laid down on the dirt, exhausted and normally focused on keeping his head down and trying to work hard, despite his tiny, boyish frame. 

“Bunch of pussies, man!” Joe spat, but also sat onto the ground against a shed, huffing and clearly completely spent.

“You were limping at the end Joe.” Ty called him out.

Joe smirked up at him, feeling his limbs numb from the physical exertion of the day.

“Let’s hop in my truck and burn off some steam, y’all earned it,” Ty walked over and hopped into his old beat up pickup and turned the ignition.

Wyatt jumped into the passenger seat, the privileged rich kid prince that he was, while Cole and Joe climbed into the pickup bed that was covered in various tools and materials. Ty set off for the twenty minute drive over to the freezing cold fresh water quarry that they often sneaked into in the middle of the scorching dog days of summer.

The old truck bounced down a dirt road, a cloud of dust rising up behind them. The sun was still far from setting and still beat down with 90 degree heat, baking Joe and Cole in the back bed. 

Wyatt, lounging in the passenger seat, had already kicked off his work boots and propped his dusty feet up on the dash. Ty rested his meaty arm on the open window and kept a faint smirk on his lips. He knew just what they needed to relax. Finally, the truck lurched to a halt beside an old tree that marked their hidden path down to the private access quarry basin. They hiked the half mile or so down to the water’s edge. It was a silent, still expanse of dark and freezing fresh water.

"You boys ready to get naked?" Ty called out. Wyatt and Cole exchanged a glance, confused if he meant naked, assuming he must have meant their usual in boxers.

Wyatt quickly tossed his cutoff tee to the side and unzipped his jeans, getting ready to hop into the water in his large boxers. Before hopping in, Ty cut him off.

“Let’s unwind boys! It’s been a rough week!” Ty announced, his voice booming with energy.

He lowered the overalls down over his dark tanned shoulders. His body maintained a less browned outline in the shape of the overalls he constantly wore, a unique tan that was his own. His shoulders, thick with muscle and a Midwestern meatiness, glistened from sweat. He let the overalls fall to his hips, revealing the soft swell of his big twenty four year old strong belly, a comfortable beer-driven layer over hard-earned muscle.

The eighteen year old Cole eyed up the oldest amongst them curiously. They’d all swam in trunks and even boxers countless times growing up. 

Ty flashed a wink at Wyatt before turning around and pulling the overalls down his nude thighs. His thick, doughy butt, slightly jiggling with movement, emerged, covered in a faint dusting of light brown hair all over the cheeks. 

“Dude what the fuck!” Wyatt exclaimed.

“Boss man is caked up!” Joe hooted. Usually the most conservative amongst them, the idea of Ty’s bare jiggly ass was more a joke to him than something sexual.

“What are y’all waiting for?” Ty challenged, casually stretching and scratching his right butt cheek and allowing the guys to see how ‘fat’ it was over the large muscular glutes underneath, before sprinting into the water.

Wyatt, usually the first to embrace any wild idea, found himself hesitating. He glanced at Cole, who looked like a deer in headlights, then at Joe, who was already starting to unlace his boots. 

“Well?” Ty’s voice echoed back, already twenty feet into the water, “y’all gonna stand there gawking at me all night?”

Joe, at twenty-two and often like the middle child of the work group, began peeling off his own sweaty shirt. “Don’t be a damn prude Wyatt. It’s hot as shit out here.” He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a rough but hairless, slim chest. His dark jeans, covered in dust, quickly followed along with his boxers pulling halfway down his groin in the process. As they slid down, a wild unkempt dark trail of fur became visible. As Joe took his underwear off completely, a wild forest came into view, silhouetting out a long and thick dick that easily dwarfed Ty, Cole, and even Wyatt’s slim but seven plus inches when hard. 

Joe smirked at the two younger guys, “I told y’all the other night that I was packing.” 

“Fuck man…” Cole stared at Joe’s manly looking hairy package that jutted out from his skinny, rough, body.

Wyatt stared, mentally comparing himself to his frequent nemesis on the farm.

“See ya in there boys!” Joe turned and followed Ty down into the water. His skinny ass was small and pale, but surprisingly hairy, contrasting against his smooth chest. Despite his conservative upbringing, Joe was unbothered by his own nudity or by Cole and Wyatt seeing him naked.

Now it was just Cole and Wyatt. Cole felt a flush creep up his neck. They hadn’t spoken a single word about the night exactly three weeks ago when Wyatt had essentially jerked Cole off. While the two eighteen year old best friends had seen each other naked plenty of times over the years, it felt like it carried a much bigger weight after their sexual experience.

Wyatt, ever the showman when challenged, took a deep breath. “Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Cole. He pulled down his underwear, revealing a tiny, tight smooth butt. 

His penis, though thin, was still much longer than Ty and Cole’s and sat in the midst of the only well-maintained groin of the four of them, just a few wisps of dark hair.

Cole watched his best friend turn towards him, his hung dick jutting out from his paper thin frame. It was now or never. He tugged at his T-shirt, pulling it off over his head and exposing his soft, smooth, pale chest to the air. His hands fumbled with his jeans. Wyatt had seen him change countless times but after his best friend had jerked him off, he now felt so exposed, so vulnerable. 

He took a deep breath and pulled his jeans and underwear down, his soft average penis coming into view amongst moderate but not messy pubic hair. He quickly cupped it in his hands and waddled in front of Wyatt, moving quickly towards the water. 

Wyatt couldn’t help but check out his best friend. He stared down at Cole’s little butt, surprisingly bubblier than he’d expect for how small Cole was. He watched how the little bit of plump fat on it jiggled as he walked and chiseled into his brain how pale and smooth it was, without a single trace of hair.

“Come on, Wyatt!” Cole yelled, already halfway down the embankment, trying to get into the water for cover.

By the time they reached the water’s edge, Ty and Joe were already fully submerged, their heads bobbing in the freezing, dark water.

“It’s freezing!” Ty yelled, a wide grin stretching across his face, water dripping from his wet hair.

Wyatt let out a whoop and plunged in with Cole quickly following him.

They spent the next hour horsing around, the tension of the long work day evaporating with each splash and laugh. Ty, with his powerful big build repeatedly dunked the younger guys into the water while Joe, quick and agile, dodged the older guy. 

Cole, despite his nerves earlier, let loose and had fun with his friends.

"Man this feels amazing!" Ty crowed, swimming over to a rocky ledge where he could stand with the water line down to his large chest.

"Fuck yeah, this is the life!” Wyatt agreed, treading water.

The other guys chuckled and nodded in agreement, even as Cole still wondered if he was missing out on something more.

"I never realized you were so...gifted Joe," Cole remarked, trying to sound casual.

"God blessed Wyatt with a rich family and me with a horse cock between my legs, what can I say!" Joe replied. 

"Well I sure as hell wish I had that thing!" Ty laughed, “in this water, mine’s about an inch right now!”

"Jesus y'all are such horn dogs," Wyatt groused.

“Coming from you, that’s saying something…” Ty smirked, alluding to their circle jerk a few weeks back that Joe still didn’t know about.

Cole and Wyatt gave him a look to shut up before they splashed around some more as the sun began to set. 

As the sky grew dark, Joe and then Cole one by one dragged themselves out of the water, exhausted but feeling more relaxed from the soothing cold quarry. The two guys dressed and laid in the back of Ty’s truck, cracking open a couple beers. 

“We should get out and join the guys.” Wyatt said, nodding towards the shore line about 100 yards away at this point. 

“Yeah we should,” Ty started, “or…” he nodded down to the water below him.

“Or what?” Wyatt turned his head.

“Or…you know…” Ty raised his eyebrows seductively. 

“I really don’t know, you ape. Spit it out.” 

“You could come lend me a hand like you did for your buddy Cole…”

Wyatt’s eyes went wide. “What. The. Fuck. Ty, are you crazy? I’m not gay…”

“Look man, I don’t judge and I don’t fucking care what your deal is, but I know you didn’t jerk Cole off just to help him beat me in some dare competition. I saw how you stared at him while you did it…”

Wyatt panicked and began to breathe heavily, looking around and seeing that Cole and Joe were far off in the distance and sitting in the truck facing away from them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” Wyatt mumbled, even as he subconsciously paddled himself closer to the six years older Ty.

Ty stared at him with a knowing look and raised his eyebrow. Backing into a small cove that took them just out of view, Ty lifted himself up onto the edge of the rock surface, his hard and thick six inches standing out tall and proud amongst his forest of hair that was now matted down to his body from the water. Wyatt could see from this angle below wading in the water that there was a patch of dense fur along Ty’s taint leading to his hole underneath his balls. His body looked thick, strong, and manly.

Ty took his penis in his hand and began to slowly stroke himself, staring at Wyatt’s face without saying a single word, beckoning him to grab it.

“Ty…” Wyatt found himself drawing close to the guy who’d run his family farm since he was a kid, terrified and confused as he got closer. He found his mouth watering at the sight of the thick, manly meat that had gone from sweating through his overalls out on the farm all day to soaking in the freezing cold water of the quarry for the last hour.

Without a word, Wyatt moved further up the water, enough that he could stand and so that his tan skinny chest and stomach emerged from the water, but not enough for his rock hard dick to show. He couldn’t let himself, let alone Ty, see how much his body clearly craved this.

Wyatt's resistance crumbled. He reached out a tentative hand and grasped Ty's cock, feeling a girth and heft that matched his large, strong body. Ty let out a low groan of pleasure and leaned back, using his hands to steady himself against the rock. Wyatt started to pump Ty’s cock, fast and methodical like he was performing a task. He tried to make it seem like he hated it, like he was just doing what he was told to help out his friend, but deep down he felt himself about to burst under the water from the feeling of Ty’s cock in his hand.

"That's it, rich boy. Work your boss’ dick,” Ty grunted. "I bet you're wishing it was Cole’s again, aren’t you?”

“Ty what the fuck, cmon…” Wyatt protested with hurt in his voice. He wasn’t close to Ty but they’d known each other for so long that he didn’t expect his family’s farm manager to try to hurt him like that. Even still, he kept pumping Ty’s thick cock.

Ty reached out and cupped Wyatt’s cheek, raising his eyebrows with a clear offer that didn’t need to be verbalized. Wyatt looked again towards the shore and couldn’t even see Cole and Joe anymore around the rock ledge in the cove. He looked up at Ty who grinned back with a slight nod. 

Wyatt felt his heart hammering with guilt and shame as he leaned down and took Ty’s cock into his mouth. He moaned as his tongue tasted the intense musk that had only barely melted away in the quarry after the long sweltering day of work. He bobbed up and down, just a few inches in his mouth, as he savored the taste of a dick for the first time. He glanced up at Ty, who was staring off into the distance, probably imagining a girl down on him.

As Wyatt worked into a rhythm, he heard Ty start to grunt, a masculine noise that made him feel even more self-deprecated. Ty reached down and grabbed Wyatt’s messy hair and pushed him deeper onto his cock. Wyatt gagged and sputtered but didn't pull off.

Wyatt moaned around Ty's member, ashamed but lost in pleasure

"Fuck Wyatt,” Ty groaned. "I'm gonna cum. Swallow it all and I’ll let you leave work early next week…”

Wyatt sped up on Ty’s dick and felt his thick thighs tense as the older guy moaned. His mouth flooded with an eruption of hot, bitter, seed that poured down his throat, threatening to pour out the sides. He did his best to gulp it down, both hating and savoring the flavor.

As soon as Ty finished his orgasm, he pulled his dick from Wyatt’s mouth, “good job,” was all he offered before slipping back into the water, his naked groin now covered agin. “Gimme some distance, I’m gonna piss before we go back in the water.” 

Without another word, after stopping a few feet away for a minute, Ty began to swim back towards the shoreline where Joe and Cole laid in his truck.

Wyatt felt his eyes start to well up. He reached down and felt his throbbing dick under the water, begging for release after blowing the older guy. A rush of emotions flooded through him. Shame, humiliation, excitement, pleasure, all wrapped up into a stomach flutter as he stroked his seven and a half inches under the water.

The water lapped at his chest, the freezing cold doing nothing to dampen the heat in his groin. He couldn't believe he'd just done it. He’d sucked a dick. His thoughts flashed to Cole and how his soft, smooth, little ass had looked before they got in the water. How his penis had felt three weeks ago. The way that Cole's breath had caught in his throat when he erupted in Wyatt’s hand.

In the distance, he could hear Ty's deep laugh mingling with Joe's and Cole's voices. They were oblivious to what had happened and most of Wyatt hoped it would stay that way. He didn't think he could face them, couldn't face Cole, knowing what he'd just done. Knowing that Ty had seen right through him, had known that Wyatt wanted this.

His hand moved faster, his strokes more urgent. He bit his lip to stifle his moans, not wanting to draw attention. The waters of the quarry churned around him, his skinny abs tightening. 

With a muffled gasp and whiney whimpering, he convulsed forward and came. Overwhelmed with the best orgasm of his life, his hot semen poured out into the cold water, a cloud of white spreading out underneath the dark surface. 

He leaned back against the rocks, his chest heaving, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He felt alive and wondered if this is what Cole meant that there could be more ‘out there’; more pleasures and adventures in life than what the fields here held in store for them. Taking a deep breath, Wyatt pushed off from the rocks and swam towards the shore.

Author Note: This is part 2 of a 7-part fully finished series. Check out my reddit page for more info on my writing and where to find my work!

The Easton Elite Water Club or EEWC for short (or not-so-short) was a pretentious but influential swimming and diving club based in Southern Florida for college athletes looking to train over the Summer and take their championship aspirations to the next level. The founder of the group was a former olympic swimmer whose ego aligned with the silver medals he’d won decades ago. He set it up as a means to find the very best across the country to help hone their skills and exposure for future olympic qualification. It also happened to focused on the very best swimmers and divers who were gay.

Every May, there were private tryouts for an exclusive spot on the team. To even get to the pool for a tryout, you had to be amongst the best athletes in the country and scouted for an invite. The team typically only took five athletes at a time and this year there were two open spots to fill.

Three college men were invited today to compete for one of the illustrious spots - not directly against each other, but essentially so.

Preston swam in Massachusetts as a rising senior, the son of a finance executive who put immense pressure on him. He’d been competing since he was only 4 years old, always trained by the best coaches that money could buy. He was 6’3” with black wavy hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders. He modeled on the side, something he knew helped get his name out there for clubs like Easton. He was bi and had a longtime girlfriend at school.

Liam was an incoming college freshman from Indiana. He had a no-nonsense attitude and tireless work ethic that drove him to train every waking hour he could possibly get in the water. He kept a buzzed haircut in an effort to do everything he could for an advantage and maintained a toned physique. He was only 5’8”, much shorter than most of his peers, but he was one of the highest performing swimmers in the entire mid-west in high school, a star at only 18 and a rare recent high school grad being considered for Easton. He was a bit of a loaner because of his workman attitude. He was gay but had only come out to avoid pressure from his parents on finding a girlfriend. He found the concept of chasing guys to be a waste of time, focusing on swimming and having never even kissed another guy.

Ben was a rising junior from Southern California. The son of hispanic immigrants, he’d picked up swimming by accident just six years ago after being found by a local coach at his community pool doing laps for a workout. Ben was charismatic and loose, a team player who cared more for his club’s success than his own. He was deeply tanned, with dark eyes and hair and a stoic strong face. He stood at 5’11” with a slim figure. He’d never needed muscles to fuel his performance. Ben was closeted to his family but had taken a shot at his California coach’s suggestion, to apply privately to Easton, explaining to the coach that he’d need to keep from his parents the queer aspects of the team if he were to be selected.

The three of them eyed each other up as they walked up to the pool in their long, skin-tight trunks. They knew vaguely of each other from the nationwide circuit but had never competed against one another given their geographic disparity.

“Hey guys,” Ben shook out his hand to greet each of them.

“Hey. I’m Preston. Nice to meet you guys.”

“Hey. Liam.” Liam was short with them, respectful but focused on the competition.

“Ok boys! Welcome!” Coach Daniels, one of the assistants who’d spoken to them on the phone appeared. “We’ll keep today pretty simple. Each of you will swim a 50, 200, and 500 for me. Yards like for NCAA.”

“That’s it?” Preston looked around.

“That’s it!” Daniels said.

“Just once at each distance? No other strokes?” Preston was incredulous, having spent months strategizing for any possible requirement today.

“Nope. We have plenty of tape on each of you. Today is just to see how you perform in person and around each other.”

“Let’s do it,” Liam was focused and ready, “I’ll start.”

Ben and Preston stood on the side and watched Liam take his mark for the 50 at the edge of the pool. He was much shorter than they were but was incredibly toned. Not large, but hunky, but chiseled and right. He had blue eyes and a jawline that looked hardened by a challenging upbringing. Ben made a mental note of the wide curve that his ass made in his jammers, skin tight trunks that stretched from his waist to just above his knee.

The siren sounded and he was off. Preston studied the competition, fixated on Liam’s movements. He was done in a flash, coming up at 18.51, a solid mark. Liam emerged from the pool, looking angry with himself, seeing his time. He was better at longer distances.

Preston followed and came in at 18.38, a little better than Liam. Ben hopped in next knowing his slim build was best at these ‘sprints’. He came up on the other side, gliding like an angel through the water, and looked up at a time of 18.07. Much faster than the other two guys.

“God damnit.” Liam muttered to himself, loud enough for Preston, who was in a mild state of panic, to hear.

“Two more events man,” Preston responded.

After the first event they took a brief break to catch up.

“That was crazy man,” Preston fist bumped Ben who smiled.

“Thanks. My best event so you’ll get me on the next two, I’m sure of it,” he was excited to be here competing and would be happy with however things turned out.

“I heard you just started swimming in high school? Is that true?” Liam didn’t say it kindly.

“Yeah. Stumbled into it a bit,” Ben rubbed the back of his neck. Liam’s eyed pierced Ben’s soul, pissed that he’d been able to walk right into something that Liam had worked 12 hours a day for his entire life.

“So…” Ben was excited to talk other guys in the community. Far from his home closeted life. “What brings you guys here?”

“Swimming, dumbass?” Liam was still frustrated.

Ben felt embarrassed by his question, “right, obviously! I meant like being…gay or whatever?”

“Oh. Yeah I’m gay.” Liam was matter-of-fact in his response. His sexuality wasn’t important to him, he only cared about swimming.

“Cool cool. Me too. My parents don’t know though. They wouldn’t take it well.” Ben said, trying to connect with them, “Preston?”

“Huh?” Preston was focused on strategizing his 200 race, “Oh. Uh. I have a girlfriend but I’m bi…”

“Sure you are,” Liam didn’t bother to turn to him.

“Woooaah let’s not do that,” Ben jumped in.

“Fuck you. I’m not queer baiting asshole.” Preston had dealt with this his entire young life. He knew he liked guys too, he’d just been with his girlfriend for years and hadn’t actually hooked up with a guy since early high school.

They returned to the pool for the 200 yard freestyle next. The same order.

Liam - 1:37.99

Preston - 1:39.12

Ben - 1:40.56

“I told you guys!” Ben emerged from the pool, proud of himself for staying even somewhat close to the other two boys’ times.

“Fuck, neck and neck,” Preston cursed himself for the extra second on his time.

Liam kept his focus and said nothing. Another break.

“So what’s your training like?” Ben still tried to explore a connection with them.

Liam spoke up quietly, “Work my ass off. I train with my dad 7 days a week.”

Preston rolled his eyes at Liam but only Ben could see it. “I have a personal coach, my club coach, and my college coach. All hands on deck!”

Liam gazed at Preston, “So basically you bought your way here with daddy’s money,”

Preston’s eyes lit up, “Dude what the fuck is your issue?”

Ben stepped in between them, hoping Daniels wouldn’t see the fight about to break out, “Cool it guys. No one can swim like that without talent and hard work.”

“I bet it helps that his suit is about 100x the cost of ours,” Liam wouldn’t quit it.

“Fuck off,” Preston turned, done with the midwestern boy’s shit.

They lined up for the 500 yard freestyle to finish out the competition.

Liam - 4:07.55

Preston - 4:04.93

Ben - 4:13.00

They finished, realizing that Liam had gone 3, 1, 2; Preston had gone 2, 2, 1; and Ben had gone 1, 3, 3. 

“Wow guys, that was impressive, I can’t say I’ve ever seen a split like that. Ben’s clearly got the 50 down and you two are better at distance, this is going to be really tough for us.” Coach Daniels said. 

“How many spots do you have again?” Ben asked, hoping the answer was three.

“Right now, just two unfortunately,” Daniels scratched his chin, “and we have 3 other guys coming in tomorrow too. We’re good for today, I’ll leave you guys here if you want to swim or chat any more, no one should bother you, we run the club and closed it to the public today. I’ll let you know next steps in a few days.” With that, he shook their hands and was off.

“That was great guys. Hopefully they find a way to get all three of us in this Summer!” Ben kept up his cheery attitude.

“Fuck that, I hope they realize I’m clearly the best for longer distance. Ben you’re awesome at the 50, I’d love to be on the team with you.” Preston was not having it anymore and wanted no part of sharing a team with Liam.

“I cracked 1:38 on the 200 buddy, you’re fucked. Daddy’s fifty thousand dollar suit won’t help you.” Liam grinned.

In one motion, Preston pulled his swimsuit down and off, revealing thick hairless thighs from shaving for speed. A large soft penis hung low, far below his waist, huge and proportional to his muscular and taller body. The other two guys’ eyes went wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Liam was shocked.

“You think my suit is my advantage? Let’s do it bare then. I’ll still beat you even with this thing dragging,” he grabbed his junk, clearly not bashful and cocky about his huge size. Preston turned to walk towards the pool’s edge, two large bubbly cheeks swaying and bouncing as he walked. 

“Well I can see why he’s a model,” Ben whispered to Liam, unashamed of how hot he found the rich senior.

“Shut up,” Liam was focused only on the competition. He dropped his clothes, following suit, walking towards the pool. His toned body continued down into his thighs and calves. He was hairless as most swimmers were and had a toned ass, much smaller than Preston’s bubble butt, but still jutting out with a curve purely from raw glute muscle. He walked up to the pool and the other two guys glimpsed a much more average looking penis, cut and held tight to his body after swimming in the cold pool. He was hot but his package was dwarfed in size by Preston’s.

“Welp, fuck it.” Ben decided to follow them, dropping his underwear to reveal an uncut penis that seemed slightly bigger than Liam’s and with balls that hung lower, even after the cold of the pool. His butt, unlike theirs, wasn’t any more muscular than a non-athlete and was pretty slim, especially for a college swimmer.

“You don’t shave…” Preston asked, clearly checking Ben’s body out and noticing a patch of pubes and some hair on his thighs.

“Never understood it down there really, it’s usually covered anyway,” Ben held his penis to cover it as he walked over to the pool. He was a little more anxious about being so exposed with the other two boys’ eyes staring at him.

“Let’s do a 200, it’s in the middle,” Liam, of course, suggested.

“Of course you’d want the distance you just won,” Preston rolled his eyes.

“Why don’t we do a 100? Seems fair?” Ben, always the team player, suggested.

“Fine.” the other two boys said in unison.

They used an app for a random start timer and technology at the pool to measure when their hands hit the wall. They took off into the pool when the start siren buzzed, all three of them swimming with everything they had. The race was fast and over before any of them had time to think.

“Fuck that’s hard, my dick had some drag on it!” Preston popped up and out of the pool, water running like a stream down jagged, hardened rocks in the wild. Ben stared up at him, glistening, and felt himself slowly hardening at the edge of the pool in the water, embarrassed and scared to now get out. Liam popped out as well and stood at the edge facing away from the pool, just above Ben. Ben looked up and essentially had a straight line view just a foot or two in front of him into Liam’s hairless, tight, teen cheeks. This close up, he could just barely see Liam’s hole peeking out, speeding up his fast hardening dick in the pool.

They looked over at the times.

Liam - 37.88

Preston - 37.92

Ben - 37.87

“WOAH!” Ben yelled from the pool, glad for a distraction.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Preston stood with his hands on his waist while Liam shook his head.

Preston exhaled a deep breath, “you’re good man. That was good.” He held his hand out to Liam.

Liam stared at it and rolled his eyes before reluctantly taking it, “you too. Sorry about before.”

Preston smiled at him while they shook hands, “All good. I get it. We’re competitive.”

“Yeah,” Liam tried to smile, the two of them clearly still jockeying to be the alpha but now more respectful of each other.

“Want to come shake our hands Ben or you staying in there all night?” Preston held out his hand to help Ben out of the pool.

“Uhhhh…” Ben panicked.

“You okay?” Liam attempted to offer some support.

“I’m uhh…” Ben scratched his head, “sorry guys I don’t mean to be weird, but I’m uhhh, really hard right now.”

Preston laughed, “No way, really?” Even Liam chuckled and grinned.

“Come up here.” Preston kept his hand out.

“Uh I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Ben resisting getting out and exposing himself.

“I think it’s a great idea. Let’s see it.” Preston grinned devilishly at him.

“O…k,” Ben reluctantly took Preston’s hand and popped out of the pool, his straight out hard 6.5 uncut inches on display. He went to cover himself but Preston slapped his hand away.

“Don’t,” was all Preston said. 

Ben looked down and noticed Preston starting to harden, his meaty, thick, dick somehow gaining even more girth as it slowly stood up.

“Are you…?” Liam looked between the two of them.

“I told you I wasn’t queer baiting,” Preston smiled.

“Can I?” Ben said to Preston, pointing down at his semi-hard penis.

“Yeah,” was all Preston said, the question clear between the two of them.

Ben dropped to his knees and reached out for Preston’s dick, taking it into his hand. It felt heavy, like a weapon. Ben may have been closeted but he had plenty of experience with men and this was easily the biggest cock he’d ever held. He playfully slapped it against his cheek a few times to feel its heft. Preston smiled down at him and rubbed Ben’s hair. 

Ben slipped the monster into his mouth and began bobbing up and down, tasting a mix of salt, sweat, and chlorine. He struggled to fit even half of Preston’ cock in his mouth but tried to service him as best as he could. 

“How big is this thing?” Ben pulled back to look up at Preston, continuing to jerk off the much larger boy.

“I don’t know, maybe 8 something?” Preston smiled, clearly knowing the actual measurement but trying to play it cool.

“You just going to stand there?” Preston turned to face Liam who was now fully hard, just under 6 inches pointed out and upward, his breathing deep and gaze focused. It was the first time Liam had ever seen another man hard in person.

“I…” Liam was unsure of what to do.

“Come here Liam,” Ben said from his knees.

“Okay.” Liam slowly walked towards them, unsure of himself, but…interested. Ben took his hand and pulled him down to eye level with Preston’s now fully rock hard hammer of a cock.

“You okay?” Ben checked in with him.

“Yeah I’ve just…never…” Liam whispered, way out of his element.

“You’ve never sucked dick?!” Ben, far more comfortable with his experience, didn’t mince words.

“I’ve never even touched another one…” Liam admitted.

Preston looked down at him smiling. “Well well well…it’s your lucky day.” Preston took his dick out of Ben’s hands and wagged it around in Liam’s face, daring him to suck it.

Ben grabbed Liam’s neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. Liam was startled and didn’t know how to respond at first, before taking a deep breath into Ben’s mouth and settling into the kiss. Their lips danced together, their tongues tasting each other. 

Ben slowly moved them closer to Preston’s dick, “you okay with this?”.

“Yeah,” Liam was already mentally kicking himself for putting this kind of intimacy off for so long.

Ben moved the head of Preston’s dick in between their mouths. He lapped at the head of Preston’s penis, running his tongue across it to still meet Liam’s mouth in a kiss. Liam’s tongue flicked across, meeting both Ben’s tongue and Preston’s dick, the incredible tastes mixing. Preston looked down at the two boys making out, his cock worshipped in between their tongues.

Slowly, Ben pulled off and let Liam enjoy sucking his first dick. As Liam struggled to bob up and down on Preston, getting only an inch or two in but lapping the head desperately, Ben moved up to make out with Preston.

Preston was much taller than them and far more developed. Ben massaged his huge shoulder muscles, flicking his tongue in and out of Preston’s mouth, occasionally nibbling at his lips.

“Wait wait wait…” Preston pulled back and Ben looked at him, but Liam was fixated on sucking his first cock and wouldn’t stop.

“Fuck…Liam that feels so good, but hold on,” he pulled Liam off his dick, who for the first time all day, genuinely smiled and looked happy. 

“We should go to the locker room,” Preston suggested.

“Right…” Ben considered the comment, “how far are we taking this…?”

Liam stood up and the three of them looked at each other.

“I mean…” Preston glanced between the two of them, “can I fuck one of you?” He bit his lip, hungry for the other guys. 

“Fuck yeah, you can fuck me,” Ben grinned, “or at least you can try with that,” he pointed at Preston pulsing dick.

Liam looked between them, overwhelmed with the view, “I have no idea what I’m doing guys but I’m game for anything,”

“We got you Liam,” Preston put his hand on Liam’s shoulder, all of a sudden now feeling like a big brother figure to him…other than that his dick was just in the younger guy’s mouth.

The three of them grabbed their things and scrambled inside, laughing and giggling as they hurried along to the locker room.

Author Note: Originally posted here about 1 year ago! Check out my reddit page for more info on my writing, where to find other chapters in this series, my other writing, and where you can find more!

Last Part

I’d been feeling a little lonely and annoyed since last week. Like I’d said, the lack of a dating history meant that my sex life was both the wildest I could imagine (once a week) and then the most boring imaginable the other six. 

I spent the majority of my time on schoolwork, partying, and prepping for Wednesdays, so I didn’t have much time for real friends. If I were still a sophomore or junior, I knew that Henry and I could’ve become closer, but there was no point in putting too much effort in when I’d be graduating soon anyway.

The only guy in Aristos who I actually did think I’d stay close to beyond graduation was Walker. Walker was a little over a year younger than me and a junior. We’d hit it off immediately when he joined the year after I did, mostly because he was here for the same reason I was, as a means to climb out of a less prestigious and privileged upbringing than most of our clubmates. 

Walker still came from a legacy family; his parents were big time scientists, but that was a different kind of prestige than the finance, political, and other juggernauts that most guys were born from. He was immediately down to earth and kind when we’d met. I could tell he knew he didn’t fit in and, like me, he struggled with the bullshit small talk that revolved around topics that ninety percent of the population wouldn’t understand. 

Unfortunately, we did struggle a bit for the first few weeks after he joined, once he found out about the arrangement that the guys had with me. I never felt judged by him, but he didn’t understand why they wanted to do stuff with me. I knew he struggled with being seen as close friends with me because of it. I couldn’t blame him, being a freshman who was young and scared to feel like even more of an outcast. 

Eventually, as we turned towards the middle of his sophomore year, we finally started hanging out again and he eventually apologized. He really didn’t need to, but it was still thoughtful of him. The fact that he was self-aware had earned him major points in my book.

I never brought up that I hoped I’d see his name on the Wednesday list someday, because the friendship meant far more to me than the chance to get him naked. He was also far from the best looking guy in the group, but he was at least average, and his personality added a point or two. I’d have given him at least a solid six overall, any day.

When he finally appeared on the list, just two months ago, my heart had skipped a beat. I was worried that someone else had signed him up as a joke, but there he was that following Wednesday, appearing in my room for the first time for something other than video games and snacks.

He felt guilty all three times he’s showed up since, but blowing him was genuinely my favorite part of those nights. Whether he’d admit it or not, we’d inevitably gotten much closer since I’d seen what he looked like when his body had an orgasm…

That loneliness this week meant I took a little longer to check my phone on Tuesday, wanting to let the anticipation and hope that Walker’s name would be on the list build. I took my time and went to my morning classes without my phone. It was strange to have the opportunity to be present and focus on my professor, and it made me wonder if I should’ve been doing it more often.

Finally, after lunch, when I got back to my room, I turned my phone back on and opened up that sheet. 

Six names were listed on the screen. Six! 

There’d only been one other time, ever, that six had signed up. That’d been both the best and messiest day of my life! I hadn’t been able to walk for two full days after. Now, I couldn’t contain my excitement for tomorrow…

Jeremiah. Roman. Paul. Mateo. Henry. Walker. My boy was on there!

And fuck me, that was a lot of dick for one night. I bit my lip, scrolling slow, letting the anticipation simmer of what each guy wanted to do to me. 

I rolled onto my stomach, kicking my feet in the air like a teenager. My phone buzzed with a text, but I flicked it away, ignoring it.

Jeremiah and Roman for sex. Not surprising. The warmup that left me gaping.

I paused, my thumb tracing Paul’s name. Sweet, nerdy Paul. He only signs up maybe once a month, but I live for it. He was like a superhero, who was a book worm by day and a sculpted god by night. Eight girthy, veiny, uncut inches (21cm) that pour literal gallons of cum out every single time. I wanted to bury my face in his massive, sculpted ass so badly, more than I’d wanted Henry’s, but he never succumbed to my begging. One day…before graduation. I had to have it.

I should have technically moved Paul down, below Mateo, if we were being strict about seniority. It went by grade year, then age, and Mateo was just a month older, but I didn’t bother. Mateo was an exchange student from Argentina who was just happy to be here. He’d been fucking me every other week this semester and the times I’d have to go from Jeremiah to Roman to Mateo were actually pretty painful. Those nights had made for some of the only ones when I’d teetered on the brink of calling it quits, so the chance to let my hole rest for half an hour, to blow Paul, was the perfect siesta.

Paul had fucked me once before, and it had been incredible, but that was a spontaneous decision that I didn’t think he’d undertake again, so this seemed like the safer order.

Mateo was hilarious and super ‘chill’ about everything. When he’d gotten to campus and learned about the Wednesday list, he immediately thought it was awesome. He was straight but had already gotten with a guy friend back home in college after a drunken night. He was the only one who truly understood that sex could just be sex, and that I was genuinely having a blast on these nights.

He’d been willing to explore literally everything and anything that I suggested, always saying you couldn’t say you didn’t like something unless you’d tried it. He was passionate when we fucked and liked it when I got off too, wanting to feel like he was satisfying me as well. I’d been the first guy he’d had sex with and had also been the first person to eat his little pale, bony ass.

After Mateo would get done railing me with that Argentinian flair, it’d be time for my best friend. I couldn’t wait for that time with Walker and I made a mental note to try to stretch it out as long as I could, to help him feel absolutely amazing.

And Henry? Little Henry who just last week was finally getting that fat peach eaten now already wanted to get inside me. That would be the perfect dessert to finish me off. 

Getting actually fucked by a fourth dick in one night was rare, but I was grateful that he was smaller than the other three. Five and half inches (13cm) was still gonna hurt like hell though, after hours of dick, so I’d likely need to ask him to go slow.

I scrolled back to the top, rereading the list like a menu. Jeremiah’s aggression. Roman’s sexiness. Paul’s flood. Mateo’s flair. Walker’s sweetness. Henry’s male virginity. My hole clenched just thinking about it, already prepping itself for the stretch. I’d be leaking cum for days, waddling to class with a secret smile. I couldn’t imagine how many orgasms I, myself, was going to have too.

I set my phone on my chest, staring at the ceiling. I slid a hand down my abs, fingers brushing my smooth groin and wrapping around my shaft. Already slick, I jerked myself slowly, edging myself to the thought of tomorrow’s lineup.

I accidentally came with a deep groan, painting my stomach with semen sliding into my belly button. I rolled off the bed, satisfied, and tiptoed out into the hallway and to the bathroom to clean myself up. I walked back to my room, unbothered if anyone saw me naked, and pulled gray boxers on before crawling back into my bed. These sheets would soon need washing yet again.

And tomorrow was shaping up to maybe be the best day of my life.

------

Wednesday

Jeremiah wasn’t early this week, like the last. As I worked to loosen myself up, watching the clock tick past 8:00PM, I wondered what it might mean about his mood. Early meant impatient but late could mean all sorts of things. It could mean stress, it could mean he was about to take something out on me, or it could mean he was in a good mood and in zero rush. All three were going to be annoying.

At 8:04, the knock came, followed by the door slowly opening. Based on Jeremiah’s demeanor, he seemed to be relaxed and in good spirits. He had a big ‘fake nice’ smile plastered on his face, the one he wore in public all the time.

"Damn, Sawyer," he said, kicking the door shut behind him and eyeing me up and down where I sat on the edge of my bed, already stripped down to just my briefs and a tee. “Six guys tonight? You gonna be able to walk the rest of the week? We’re really gonna wear you out before you graduate.”

I smirked, leaning back on my hands, trying to play it cool, even though the thought of the full lineup made my stomach do a little flip. It was mostly excitement…mostly. "Yeah, well, at least I'm getting the worst one out of the way early.”

His smile dropped into a snarl, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer, towering over me. "What was that?” He grabbed a handful of my dirty blonde hair and looked down at me. The way my eyes glistened when I looked up at him betrayed the hatred I felt, making me look like his boy toy, desperate to please him. “You’re lucky you get the privilege of my dick. Now get on your knees."

I rolled my eyes but slid down obediently. “You’re lucky you have me. After graduation, I guess you’ll just have to settle for your girlfriend, huh?”

In two minutes, I’d upended Jeremiah’s mood. He unzipped his jeans and yanked them and his underwear down. His dick was semi-hard and hanging downward…I could smell it. He clearly hadn’t showered after a gym session earlier.

“Suck it.” He commanded.

I opened my mouth just as he thrusted forward, slopping his heavy, half soft penis into my mouth.

“Get it up for me,” he growled. It only took him thirty seconds. Gagging was inevitable with his size and aggression, but I relaxed my throat like a pro; three years of this shit will do that to you. Tears pricked at my blue eyes, but I kept them open, staring up at his snarling face. He loved the power trip, calling me names under his breath, like ‘pathetic little cocksucker’.

Saliva dripped down my chin, mixing with the pre-cum leaking from his tip. He went at it for a solid three minutes, grunting and thrusting until his dick was rock hard.

"Enough," he finally panted, pulling out and leaving strings of spit connecting us for a second before it finally broke. “I’m gonna lay back. Turn around. Face away from me and ride it. I wanna watch that ass bounce and break, but I don’t wanna see that pathetic little dick.”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood, tossing off my boxer briefs. My tan skin was smooth, as they wanted. freshly shaved that morning with nothing down below to remind them I was a guy. My own dick was half hard, but I ignored it; this wasn't about me getting off, not with him. I knew the guys who I liked to cum with and he was certainly not one of them. I climbed onto the bed on all fours, then straddled him reverse cowgirl style (or cowboy, you could say) as he laid back with his jeans still around his ankles.

"Sit on it, slut." He wiggled his dick around, swirling it. When he was on his back like this, I couldn’t lie, it looked so fucking big. He was blessed.

I lowered myself, feeling the thick head press against my hole. It stretched me open as I sank down, inch by inch, until I was fully seated, his bushy pubes tickling my smooth ass. God, he was big; always filling me to the max my body could handle. I started riding him, bouncing up and down, my hands on his thighs for balance. The bed creaked under us, and he groaned, slapping my ass hard. When my cheeks rippled, it was like I could feel his length inside me pushing outward against my glutes from the inside.

"Faster," he demanded, thrusting up to meet me. It didn't take long, maybe a minute and  a half of me grinding and riding before he gripped my waist tight.

"Fuck...gonna cum," he muttered, and then he unloaded deep inside me with hot spurts that made my stomach feel warm and fuzzy, like a tight placket. I really felt it flood me as he emptied his balls. He held me for a second, savoring it, then shoved me off like yesterday's trash.

I rolled onto the bed, catching my breath, cum already starting to leak out a little as gravity did its thing. Jeremiah zipped up, smirking down at me. "Have a good night, you pathetic slut. Tell Roman I said hi." He laughed and sauntered out, the door slamming behind him.

My hole already felt sore but thankfully, the way we did it had meant that he didn’t last long. That was the start I badly needed to be able to go all night across six men. One down, five to go, and it was only 8:26.

One minute later, Roman pushed into my room without waiting for an answer to his warning knock. Based on the bulge in his pants, I guessed that he was warming himself up in the hallway so that we could skip pleasantries.

"Jeremiah just said you rode him?” He stated with a grin, locking the door. “I want that too." He peeled off his shirt, revealing that thick mat of hair across his pecs and down his abs. Shorts followed, and there was his seven inch (18cm) uncut dick, already thick and with its foreskin pulled back a bit to show the slick, greasy head. 

“Get on me, cowboy.” he ordered, lying back on my bed where Jeremiah had just been. I wondered if he could feel how warm the sheets were from Jeremiah’s body heat. 

I was already naked, so I just climbed on, facing away like with Jeremiah. His dick was thicker than Jeremiah's in girth, that extra foreskin sliding back as I sank onto him. It helped with the friction for both of us. Fuck, the stretch was intense right after the first one, but I took it, bottoming out with more hairy balls pressing against me.

"Ride me hard," he said, hands on my hips, fingers digging in. “I want you to do all the work, for as long as it takes.” He said it with his usual grin that was half kind, but also half judgmental and pitying. I started bouncing, feeling him fill me completely, the cum from Jeremiah sloshing around inside. It made everything slicker, easier, so I picked up the pace, my ass slapping against his thighs.

That's when it happened. As I lifted up high and dropped back down, gravity kicked in hard. Jeremiah's load started leaking out around Roman's dick, dribbling down onto his groin, matting his pubes and coating his balls. I looked down and saw it falling along his sack between his legs.

Roman froze for a second and held me still, then sat up a bit, looking down. "What the fuck? Is that...Jeremiah's jizz?”

I couldn't help it, I bursted out laughing, still impaled on him, my body shaking with it. “Roman, you do realize that’s always in there helping you stay lubed up every week?”

His face twisted in panic at first, eyes wide like he'd touched something gross. "That's disgusting! I don’t want to see or feel it!” 

“It touches your dick inside a guy’s ass every week, man, get over it.” I laughed.

His grip tightened, and he snarled, thrusting up hard. "You think that's funny, huh? Laugh at this."

He started pounding into me from below, hands pulling me down onto every brutal thrust. The leaking got worse as cum oozed out with each movement, leaking across his hairy groin and thighs. I was still giggling at first, but it turned into moans as he hit that spot inside me beyond the second ring, over and over. 

“Still think it’s funny, you little whore?” he grunted, slapping my ass as I rode him harder to match his pace. The bed was rocking now, headboard thumping the wall. Cum was everywhere, leaking down his shaft, pooling on his pubes. He didn't seem to care anymore; the panic flipped to pure lust.

I ground down, circling my hips. "Come on, add to the mess," I taunted breathlessly. "Fill me up like Jeremiah did."

That did it. Roman roared, pulling me down hard and unloading. His cum mixed with the first load, pumping deep inside me in thick ropes. I felt it overflow immediately, more leaking out around his base as he kept thrusting through his orgasm.

Finally, he shoved me off, panting. His groin was a disaster; matted hair, shiny with cum, some even dripping onto my sheets. "Fuck, that was intense." He grabbed his clothes, not bothering to wipe up much. "Clean that shit up before the next guy." He dressed quick and bolted, muttering about needing a shower.

I sat up slowly, and that's when it really hit. As soon as I was upright, gravity took over for real. Cum; Jeremiah's and Roman’s, poured out of my gaping wide hole in a gush, warm and sticky, running down my thighs and pooling on the bed. I looked down, laughing in disbelief at the mess. Four more to go, and I was already sloppy.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead. My room smelled musky and like cum already, with at least four more loads on the way.

But now, waiting for Paul, my heart was doing that stupid thing it always did when his name popped up on the list. Even though he'd only signed up for a blowjob, I couldn't help the butterflies swirling in my stomach.

This time, when the knock came, he waited for me to tell him he could come in. The junior walked in and shut the door behind him before he looked at me. He was wearing his usual casual getup of a fitted tee that hugged his muscular chest and old jeans. His glasses were perched on his nose, making him look all intellectual, but I knew the beast underneath. "Hey, Sawyer," he said with a grin, his voice deep and smooth.

"Hey, Paul," I replied, trying to play it cool, but my voice came out a little shaky. I stood up, feeling the cum shift around inside me, a reminder of the two guys before him. 

God, he was hot. Those blue eyes behind the glasses, that medium hair falling just right. Everything about him screamed ‘sex’.

He chuckled, eyeing my naked body up and down. My dick was pointed directly at him, like it was an arrow. "Looks like you've had a busy start to the night.”

"Yeah, they really fucked me up," I said, smirking to keep things light. "Left me a little sore, but I'm good. Your turn now." I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "But hey, before we get into it, you know I’m gonna ask. Can I please, please try the back? Come on, Paul, just once? I promise I'll make it feel amazing."

He chuckled and shook his head, adjusting his glasses with one hand. "Sawyer, dude, how many times do I have to say it? It's never gonna happen. That’s a one way street! Blowjob only, like I signed up for." His eyes twinkled with amusement, like he found my begging cute or something. It was playful, not mean.

I pouted, crossing my arms over my bare, smooth chest. "Aw, come on! You're missing out. I bet it'd blow your mind. I did it to Henry last week and he loved it.”

He laughed again, stepping closer and ruffling my dirty blonde hair like I was the younger one. "Nope. Not today, not ever. But nice try. Now, how bout you get on your knees like a good friend?”

I sighed dramatically, but inside, I was excited. Fine, if that's all I was getting, I'd make it the best damn blowjob of his life. "Alright, alright. On my knees it is." I dropped down to the floor and positioned myself right in front of him. My face was level with his crotch, and I could see the outline of his beast straining against his jeans. Uncut, girthy, and always ready to go. I looked up at him, batting my blue eyes innocently. "Unzip for me?"

Paul grinned, his big hands moving to his belt. He unbuckled it slowly, teasing me. He popped the button, slid down the zipper, and shoved his jeans and boxers down in one go. His dick sprang out, already throbbing, the foreskin partially retracted to reveal that shiny head. Trimmed pubes framed it perfectly, and the scent was nothing but clean man. He was no unkempt, gross idiot like Jeremiah or even Roman. And man, he was huge, veiny, and I knew his balls were full and ready to unload an ocean, like usual.

I licked my lips. "Fuck, Paul, you're always so ready." I reached up, wrapping my hand around the base, feeling the heat and the pulse. He was thick and my fingers barely met around it.

"Less talking, more sucking," he said playfully, but there was that edge to his voice. He grabbed the back of my head gently at first, guiding me forward. I opened my mouth wide, taking the head in, swirling my tongue around it. The taste was salty, a bit of pre-cum already leaking, and I moaned around him.

"Yeah, that's it," he groaned, his hips humping slightly. He started pushing deeper, testing my throat. I'd done this enough times with him to know he liked it rough; face fucking me like a toy. I relaxed my jaw, letting him slide in further, the girth stretching my lips. 

I couldn't help myself, so while he started thrusting, I snuck a hand down, grabbing my own dick. As Paul picked up the pace, destroying my mouth with those deep, relentless strokes, I started jerking myself off. The sounds of slurping and his grunts filled the room. I loved it, the way he used me, like I was there just for his pleasure.

"Fuck, Sawyer…,” he panted, his hands tightening in my hair. He was really going at it now, hips snapping forward, balls slapping against my chin. I gagged a little, tears pricking my eyes, but it only turned me on more. My hand flew faster on my dick. I swore that his dick was like a five star steak dinner. I was so into how good it tasted that the Michelin starred flavor alone pushed me over the edge. I came hard, shooting ropes onto the floor, my body shuddering as I moaned around his cock.

Paul must have felt the vibrations or seen me tense up because he slowed down, looking down with a surprised laugh. "Did you just cum? From sucking my dick?!”

I pulled off for a second, gasping, with spit dripping down my chin. "Yeah…you're too hot, what can I say?" I grinned up at him, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, feeling playful and spent but still horny.

He shook his head, chuckling. "Alright, my turn now." He grabbed his dick, slick from my mouth, and started jerking it right in front of my face. I stuck out my tongue, eager, watching his hand fly up and down that girthy shaft. His foreskin slid back and forth, the head swollen and red. "Open wide," he commanded, his voice husky.

I did, and seconds later, he exploded. Thick, hot ropes of cum shot out, painting my face; across my cheeks, my nose, even hitting my forehead. He came a lot, like always, glazing my whole face with stickiness. I licked what I could reach, savoring the fruity, boy taste, while he milked the last drops out. My face was an absolute mess now.

"Fuck, that was good," he said, breathing heavy. He ruffled my hair, smearing some of the cum into it accidentally…or maybe on purpose. "Thanks, Sawyer. You're the best at this."

I looked up at him and couldn't resist one last try. "Please, Paul? Just let me eat your ass? One lick? Come on…after that?"

He laughed. “No way, dude. But...I'll give you a peek. Just to fuck with you." He turned around and bent over slightly. With both hands, he grabbed his pale, bubbly cheeks and spread them wide. I got the first look at his hole and was shocked at how smooth, pink, and tight it was. Not a hair in sight, just perfection. My mouth watered, my spent dick twitching again. What a waste. I knew that no girl would ever eat that beautiful peach.

“That's all you get," he said, laughing as he straightened up and pulled his pants back on. "Maybe next time you'll stop begging."

I groaned playfully, wiping his cum from my eyes. "You're the worst, Paul.”

He winked, adjusting his glasses. “Thanks, Sawyer.” And with that, he unlocked the door and strolled out, leaving me on my knees, covered in his load, my ass still leaking from the first two.

But the night wasn't over yet. Mateo was next, and I knew he'd want everything.

Author Note: Check out my reddit page for more info about my writing and how to find it!

Last Part

Mason’s lips slid off Anthony’s thick shaft with a wet pop, further punctuating the absurdity of the night. His brown hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead with a sheen of sweat. His hard dick bobbed between his legs, all 5.5 inches (14cm) of it straining for attention. 

Anthony’s olive body was tense, his eyes wide as he stared down at Mason, with his girthy cock glistening from his best friend’s saliva. He couldn’t believe the sight in front of him. The feeling of being exposed to your friends was incredibly strange. They’d done so much together in life and had made so many memories, but Anthony realized that he’d never even remotely processed that his friends had literal body parts under their clothes that he’d never seen, nor thought he would see.

“Fuck this,” Mason grumbled. His round, bubbly butt jiggled a little as he shifted on his knees, the hairless cheeks catching the dim light from his phone screen propped up on the coffee table. “If she sees me just being a beta bitch, sucking dick all night, she’s never gonna hook up with me. I look like a total loser right now.”

Anthony snorted, his six pack flexing as he tried to act casual even though his face was flushed red. His hairy legs were spread wide, his heavy dick nestled in a jungle of black pubes. “There’s no fucking way I’m putting a dick in my mouth, dude. Too bad. You’re the one who wanted to impress some college chick. Suck it up…literally.”

Xavier was the only one who didn’t look totally freaked out, probably because he’d actually fucked girls before. “Fine,” he said, his voice calm but playful. “I’ll blow you Mason. But only if I get to fuck you after. And we don’t record that part. Whatcha think?”

Anthony bursted out laughing, doubling over so hard his hairy chest heaved, the light layer of Italian fur rippling. “Oh shit, Mason! Xavier’s gonna turn you into his little bitch!”

Mason’s face went red. “Absolutely fucking no way, you assholes. That’s way too gay…”

Anthony kept cackling, pointing at Mason’s hard dick, which was leaking a little pre cum despite the protest. “Dude, you’ve never even gotten head! Like, real head. Those handjobs from girls don’t count. At least you’d get a blowie! Better than nothing!”

“Shut the fuck up, Ant,” Mason snapped, but there was a grin tugging at his lips. He was the jokester, after all, so the irony of all this wasn’t lost on him.

Xavier was straight as an arrow, but talking with Julian the last few years had made him chill about this stuff. He was far more comfortable with the fact that these were just other people, instead of looking at them like ‘gross’ guys. He’d never found himself attracted to men, but he wasn’t above the idea of being able to have fun with one, even if he wouldn’t have sought it out. “Ant, stop being a dick. Mason’s trying here.” 

He looked down at Mason, his blue eyes locking on his friend with pity, watching him on his knees, so desperate for this college girl, that he was willing to do all of this with them. “Okay, fine. How about this…I’ll take care of you for a bit. So you can edit out some other stuff and make yourself look like the one in charge. She’ll see me literally on my knees for you. Then, we stop the vid and I get to finger that bubbly ass of yours and bust on it. No fucking. Sound fair?”

Mason blinked and tilted his head. “Why the fuck would you want to do that? That’s weird, man.”

Anthony’s laughter died down to a grimace, his eyes darting between his friends. “Yeah, what the hell, Xavier? You’re too obsessed with Mason’s ass. You realize how nasty that is, right dude?”

Xavier shrugged, not even blushing. His long cock was still jutting straight out, the foreskin pulling back a little as blood flowed. “Yeah, I know I am. And I’m not ashamed of it. I want it and I can easily pretend it’s not on Mase…”

Mason opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught. He was desperate. And he didn’t mind the idea of finally feeling what it was like to get his dick sucked, even if it was from his friend. His horniest side won out. “Fine,” he said, voice a mix of defiance and excitement. “But you better make it good for her.”

Xavier helped his friend to hit feet and took a spot in between his legs on the couch. “I’ll make it good for you too, buddy.” He winked at Mason, who blushed, awaiting to be servicing.

Anthony watched, biting his lip, his shy side emerging again.

Xavier’s strong hands gripped Mason’s thick, meaty thighs, spreading them wide. Mason’s five and a half inches (14cm) stood proud, his cut mushroom head shiny, and pubes wild and untamed. “Relax. Take a deep breath,” Xavier murmured, his breath hot against the shaft. He leaned in and did something truly for his friend, with no joke attached to it; he stuck his tongue out and licked the top of the head, like it was an ice cream cone, letting the gooey pre cum hang onto his tongue as he slowly pulled it away.

The saltiness made Xavier want to gag. He despised the taste more than he’d realized, but he knew it was just natural semen, and nothing to objectively be weirded out by. He tried to focus on how he’d asked other girls to do this to him, thinking about what a normal thing it was.

Mason gasped, his soft stomach tightening. “Fuck…oh my god…”

Anthony scooted closer to his best friend on the couch, his hairy legs spread wide enough that his furry taint was exposed. His thick dick was hardening again as he started stroking his penis, his hand unable to wrap around the full shaft. 

Xavier now wrapped his lips around Mason’s dick. He sucked slow at first, his tongue swirling around the head, making wet, slurping sounds that the phone picked up perfectly. Mason’s head fell back, and he let the stress of the night wash away, moaning uncontrollably as he finally felt what it was like to get a blowjob. “Can you go deeper?”

Xavier obliged, taking more of Mason’s dick, his buzzed head bobbing. Mason started whimpering, his voice raising a full octave. Xavier popped off for a second, grinning up at Mason. “Feel good, buddy?”

Mason laughed breathlessly, pushing Xavier’s head back down. “Yeah. Keep going. Make me look good.”

The blowjob picked up pace, Xavier’s mouth a warm heaven for his best friend. Mason’s hips bucked, his ass lifting off the couch a bit, cheeks spreading to reveal the tiny bit of hair that circled the rim of his hole.

Anthony was fully into it now, his hand pumping. “Fuck, this is kinda…hot. Mason, you owe me big time for all this shit," he said, his voice playful but edged with real horniness. The shier guy was usually the follower, but right now, with his dick throbbing and the drinks buzzing in his veins, he felt bold. "Jerk me off, Mase.”

Mason didn't even hesitate. He reached over, his hand wrapping around Anthony's thick shaft. It was heavy, warm, and so damn girthy that Mason's fingers barely fit halfway around it. He started stroking, matching the rhythm Xavier was setting on him.

Mason's handjob was enthusiastic but sloppy, his first time stroking a dick other than his own, but Anthony didn’t seem to mind, his hips slowly humping upward through his friend’s tight grip.

Mason smiled at him, all three guys finally letting their self-consciousness drop. 

Xavier sucked harder, one hand even cupping Mason’s balls and rolling the sack around. After a few minutes of sloppy, enthusiastic head, Mason started to whimper. “Xavier, I’m getting close…”

Xavier pulled off, strings of spit connecting his lips to the tip. “Not yet. She’s got enough.” He pressed a button on the phone. “Michelle’s mind is definitely blown. My turn, now.”

Mason collapsed back, chest heaving, dick slick and aching for release. “Fine…”

Xavier pulled back a bit, “I’m gonna lift your legs."

Mason closed his eyes, “I don’t think I can look at you guys when you do this, shit.” He pulled a pillow to cover his view and pulled his knees up to his chest, his legs in the air. At this angle, everything was on full display. Xavier’s view was Mason’s soft belly folds, a mound of pubes, his hard dick, a hanging sack, and a relatively smooth taint that led to a tight, hairy hole in between two gigantic, round, jiggly cheeks.

Anthony looked around and had to cover his mouth from bursting out laughing. “This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen in real life, man! Dick, balls, and your asshole! I’m gonna throw up!” He was clearly joking now, after all they’d done already.

Xavier nodded, trying not to grin. "He's not wrong, Mase. I don’t really wanna see your dick when I’m doing this. Roll over, ass up, my guy. Make it easier."

Mason flipped over with a dramatic sigh, so that his stomach was on the couch, but he now had his knees on the ground, his butt sticking out towards his friend. "Better? Happy now, you shitheads?”

Xavier positioned himself behind, his hands landing on those plump cheeks with a playful smack. “Fuck yes.” He used both hands to jiggle and squeeze his best friend’s cheeks. 

Inside, he even wondered what it would be like to motor boat in between those cheeks, but he knew his friends would never look at him the same way if he put his face there. “Suck Anthony some more, Mase.”

Anthony scooted in front of Mason, his thick cock bobbing invitingly.

“Fine…” Mason leaned forward, taking Anthony back into his mouth without protest. The taste was familiar now, and he sucked with more confidence this time, his tongue flicking over the girthy head. Anthony groaned, threading his fingers through Mason's swoopy hair. "Fuck yeah...just like that."

Behind him, Xavier started slow, his strong hands kneading Mason's glutes more. He spanked it a few times, just watching how the juiciness rolled around from the vibrations. He rubbed the cheeks, squeezing them and watching them bounce under his palms. Mason moaned around Anthony's dick, the vibrations making Anthony thrust a little deeper and Mason gag.

Xavier grinned, spreading those soft cheeks wider. The little bit of hair around Mason's hole came into view, and Xavier didn't hesitate. He spit on his finger and slid it right in, aggressive from the start and pushing past the tightness. Mason yelped and jutted forward, his body trying to retreat from being invaded. “Oh, god…oh god, fuck…” Mason pulled off Anthony to gasp and grit his teeth.

“You okay?” Xavier asked, curling his finger inside. He was mesmerized by the ability to feel the actual outline of his best friend’s internal tunnel. Every groove was warm and unique.

"Oh shit...that...fuck," Mason started to moan. He hated how good it felt and Xavier even watched his toes curl. His own dick was straight up leaking onto the floor now.

“Feel good?” Xavier asked, extremely serious and nonjudgmental.

Mason nodded. “Just...just cause it feels good, doesn't mean I like guys, okay?" But he seemed to have a strange bit of hesitancy in his voice as he said it.

Anthony laughed, pushing Mason's head back down onto his cock. "Dude, you're moaning like a bitch. Gay boy.”

Xavier, ever the ally, shook his head as he added a second finger, thrusting them in and out with a steady rhythm. “Shut the fuck up, Ant.” He was serious and shot his other best friend a pissed off look. “It’s biology. Relax and enjoy it, Mase." His own cock was aching now. The sight of Mason's juicy butt taking his fingers, jiggling with each push, was hotter than he'd have liked to admit.

The room turned into a chorus of slaps, sucks, and moans. Xavier spanked harder, leaving handprints on those pale, fat cheeks, then he’d rub his best friend’s bare ass soothingly, jiggling it like jelly. Mason was lost in it, sucking Anthony sloppily while pushing back against Xavier's fingers. His hand found his own dick, stroking furiously as the pleasure built.

Xavier's breaths came faster, his other hand flying down to his long, uncut cock. It took seconds for him to reach a point of no return with one hand jerking himself and the other buried inside his best friend. “OH GOD, I’M GONNA CUM!” 

He panicked and yanked his fingers from Mason’s ass, using that hand to spread Mason’s cheeks. He stood up, jerking his cock furiously and pointed it down at his best friend’s asshole. With a grunt, he came, ropes of hot cum splattering across Mason's butt. Some landed on the cheeks, but a thick shot hit right between them, dripping down over the hole where his fingers had been. 

The warmth on such a private part of his body made Mason shudder, pushing him over the edge too. Mason's body tensed, his bubbly butt clenching, which actually allowed some of Xavier’s cum to seep inside of him. His orgasm hit and cum shot out onto the floor beneath him, puddles forming on the carpet. "Oh goddddddd!”

Anthony seized the moment, his hips thrusting upward, uncontrollably, as he felt his own orgasm hit. "Here it comes, dude! Swallow it! Swallow!!!” His thick load erupted into Mason's mouth, shooting down his throat in heavy spurts. Mason, still riding his own high, didn’t have the energy to pull away…he just sucked it down, the salty taste washed out by the euphoria inside his gut.

As they all collapsed, panting and sticky, Anthony grinned down at Mason, wiping sweat from his brow. "Holy shit, Mase. For the rest of our lives, I get to hold this over your head! You just swallowed my cum!”

Mason coughed and spit on the ground as many times as he could, desperately trying to get the salty taste of semen off his tongue and teeth, but he couldn't help laughing. “That shit is absolutely retched tasting, dude. It was for Michelle. It...that doesn't count!"

Mason looked between his friends, panicking and realizing the position he'd just put himself in and terrified of how good it had felt.

Xavier chuckled, slapping Mason's cum covered ass one last time. “Yo, I painted your ass in my jizz!”

Mason rolled over and sat on his butt on the floor, feeling how the stickiness clung to his cheeks. “Guys, what did we just do…” What he really meant was what did I just do...

Xavier shrugged, standing to pull his briefs back on. “Wild shit. But it was fun, wasn’t it?”

Ant laughed, “easy for us to say. We weren’t the ones getting basically Eiffel towered!”

Mason looked at the ground, feeling conflicted. It scared him how much he enjoyed Xavier’s fingers digging inside his hole.

Xavier chuckled, “Mase, he’s just jealous that you were confident enough to have fun, man.”

Mason looked up and smiled back at him. Xavier was right, the fingers had given him the most intense orgasm of his life, better than what he could even imagine with Michelle. If he was being honest with himself, he'd forgotten about her thirty minutes ago, at least.

“Best sleepover, guys.” Xavier held out a hand, palm down. Mason covered it. Anthony stared at it, and rolled his eyes, finally giving into accepting how much fun he’d had. He put his hand on top of his friends’ and they shared a brief chuckle.

“Best friends for life, for sure, now.” Xavier said.

Mason felt an unexpected emptiness, the realization that this might be all they were: best friends who'd had a single, fleeting, life-changing experience. He turned his thoughts instead towards someone who might be open to more: the gay mirror image of the younger Xavier, 22-year-old Julian.

Author Note: Check out my reddit for more info on my stories and how to find them!