u/cronenber9

"Gotta loosen you up again, boy," Alan said, pulling away from the kiss, and slipped his fingers through my lips into my mouth.

I was still in shock. I couldn't believe my brother had just kissed me. My entire life I had been struggling to get his approval and affection, just wanting him to say I was alright. I had sacrificed everything for my brother. I worked long hours to pay for his stuff, I cleaned up after him, and I had become his human footstool, table, and now fleshlight. And he had just told me he loved me and then kissed me.

But right now, his fingers were down my throat. He seemed to be trying to shove his entire fist down there. He was ramming his fingers into the opening of my throat, opening and closing them, swirling them around, slapping into my uvula as I retched and shuddered. He pulled his hand out, covered with slime, and slathered it onto his erect cock.

"Fuck dude, I love it when you gag and puke," he told me. I asked why. "Cause man, it just feels soooo good. Your throat closes up on my cock, making it tighter, and the shudders feel like it's massaging my boner. Like you're massaging my boner with my throat. And when you puke, it adds even more wet slime and stickiness. Lube, basically. Plus having a bunch of liquid squirt up onto my cock while I'm pumping it in a tight, wet, slimy hole that's massaging my dick feels in-fucking-credible bro. And I love seeing you suffer."

I was a little shocked by the last admission. What exactly did that mean?

"You love to see me suffer? Why?"

"Uh... makes me feel like the king! I just love dominating. I'm the boss, right?"

I nodded.

"You want to sniff my ass?" He asked.

"Not really. I don't want you to fart on me. Again."

Alan laughed. "I just did that cause it was funny. It's a joke bro, not a dick, don't take it so hard."

I have a wry smile. I didn't think either of those jokes were funny.

"But dude, you want to smell my ass? I would like to see you on your knees sniffing my ass. It would make me feel like a king."

I was starting to understand why my brother had always treated me the way he did, but I was also wondering what that meant for his sexuality. Or mine, for that matter. My hard cock was literally aching for release. I nodded. Alan walked over to me and spread his legs wide and kind of hovered over me. I crawled under him and pushed my face up into his taint, and then inched further. His ass was so thick with hair inside his buttcrack, it covered every inch. His sweaty ballsack rested on my forehead.

"Sniff it, bro. I want you to smell it."

I obeyed. Of course, he had just washed himself, so it didn't smell bad. It smelled like soap. I made loud, exaggerated sniffing sounds. I wanted to please him.

"Good boy, good little butt sniffer."

He pulled away, then turned around so that his ass was facing me. His butt cheeks had hair, but nowhere near as thick as his crack. Which was proven when he spread his cheeks to reveal that dense, matted forest of hair.

"Dude, smell my asshole. Please."

I was scared.

"Please, man, please. I need you to," Alan continued.

I wanted to make my brother happy, so I did. I put my face into his ass crack and put my nose right in front of his butthole and sniffed it. Again, though, it didn't smell like anything.

"Man, this is crazy, but what if you put your nose inside my asshole?"

"Wait, what?"

I was hoping I'd heard him incorrectly, but unfortunately not.

"Man, imagine your nose literally inside my asshole. You'd literally be smelling my actual colon. That's total domination. That's beyond domination. That's... that's degrading... well, nevermind Victor. I don't want to be too mean. I'm trying, here."

He turned back around and slapped my face with his thick, heavy cock. It made a meaty thwack every time it hit me.

"Now open wide. I gotta pee, then I'm gonna fuck your throat like it's a pussy."

I opened my mouth. I hoped he hadn't meant he was gonna pee in my mouth as well. It turned out I was correct. Alan effortlessly slid his hard dick down my throat with one thrust, locking his hairy crotch into my nose. I gagged, and then stayed still, waiting for him to pull out and begin to throat fuck me. But he didn't. Instead, I felt one of the strangest sensations that I'd ever felt in my life: my brother was peeing inside my throat. Because his hard dick was so big, i didn't even need to swallow; it was already halfway down my throat, so he was basically just dumping his piss straight down into my stomach. It felt strange to have liquid pouring down my throat that I hadn't swallowed. It also felt a bit degrading. I was a urinal.

Above me, my brother let out a satisfied sigh of relief. "Aww, yeaaahhh... man that feels good. I wish I could keep my dick inside you 24/7 man, like a holster. You feel so good. I know I've told you before, but my life would suck without you. You make everything fucking great, all the time."

I wondered how well he was gonna stick to his promise to be nicer to me and move all his stuff into his own room and stop asking me to clean up after him. To be fair, he clearly was TRYING to respect me more, but it also seemed like he really enjoyed being in control of me and making me suffer. He liked to humiliate me.

"Alright bro, get ready. From now on, I'm gonna treat you like a pussy instead of a throat. From now until I cum, I mean. So I'm not gonna pay attention to whether you can breathe or not, you're gonna have to figure that one out on your own, aight? I'm just gonna plow your throat until I dump my load. Is that okay?"

"Etffhh," I replied, unable to say 'yes' due to the fact that a thick, heavy slab of flesh was embedded inside my throat at that very moment.

Alan laughed and pulled his colossal dick out of my esophagus. Throat slime came out along with it, creating a bridge between my mouth and the immense dick head that loomed above me. My brother flexed his ass, making his dick jump by itself, a cocky grin on his face. Fuck, he was just so goddamn cool. So totally confident, powerful, self-assured. I didn't know if he really meant it when he said he wanted to teach me to be like him, especially since he also liked to degrade and humiliate me; but in that moment, watching him snicker and flex his big boner above me, I knew I could never be him.

He grabbed my jaw with one hand and my top teeth with the other and slammed my mouth open as wide as possible, immediately followed by ramming his eight inch cock down my throat; it was practically engraved inside my esophagus. For a moment. Then he pulled it out. Slammed it back in. Again. Again.

Over and over, my brother bucked his hips and fucked my throat, like it was a real pussy. The entire time, I just stared at his hairy stomach, thinking about how damn much I wished mine was like that. I didn't dare touch my erection, cause I knew if I did, I'd blow right away, and I didn't want post-nut clarity while my throat was being used as a cocksleeve for my brother's penis. I really liked how, while he was very hairy, he still had a defined happy trail, right before it exploded into a massive bush around his dick.

Occasionally, I would puke, violently. When I did, my brother would moan in ecstasy. I didn't mind it so much, except that the vomit would clog my nostrils and make it hard to breathe, so I'd have to try to get it out. I could tell Alan really liked it when I threw up, because he'd go faster, like a speeding train. It felt like a train was smashing down my throat as well. It fucking hurt, man. But, at the same time, I really liked being my brother's fleshlight. I was getting used to it.

Fifteen minutes in, it felt like my entire face and chest were coated in slime, spit, and vomit. They'd mixed together and become a viscous, thick gel that was connecting my face to my brother's crotch and stomach in strands as he kept wildly thrusting and bucking back and forth. Then came the moment I'd been waiting for; Alan grabbed the back of my head forcefully, slamming my face into his hairy crotch, hurting my nose in the process. My entire face was stuck in the congealed mess that my throat had produced as he fucked it. He groaned, a deep, guttural, masculine sound that got louder as he went on. I felt the first big spurt of semen shoot down my throat. Like when he'd pissed, it went straight into my stomach. Then another. And another. There was thirteen in all, before he pulled his enormous cock out and shot six more onto my face, completely covering it; the cum mixed with the puke, spit, and throat slime. I couldn't see at all. Alan used his hand to smear it all together, and surveyed what he'd done to me, laughing as it all dripped down onto my chest.

"Holy shit, dude. I ruined you! Man, that's great. You look awesome like that. I wish you looked like all the time, Victor. This is like a work of art. You are the cutest person ever. Just totally destroyed. By me! Fuck. I really, really love you!"

I smiled. Alan used a finger to wipe the batter off of my eyes so I could open them. I stood up.

"Oh wow, you're hard. You want me to help?" He asked.

He reached down and barely touched the side of my boner with just one finger; I came immediately, moaning, and fell to the floor of the shower. I looked up at Alan. He crossed his arms and snickered. He looked glorious, his muscled body glistening with sweat, water, and spit; his fat cock softening, hanging down past his enormous nuts that hung low in their hairy sack. I felt like a total weakling, cringing on the floor, laying at his big feet as my semen crept towards the drain. My brother reached down and grabbed me, hauling me to my feet.

"Let's get you cleaned up, little man. I think that's what we got in here for in the first place, right?"

I'd already forgotten that. Alan turned the water on and carefully wiped the results of his horny, eager conquest off of my face. He rubbed his finger through the crevices of my ear, wiped off my earlobes. He put shampoo in my hair and lathered it with his hand and then grabbed my face and pushed my head backwards before washing it out of my hair. I stood still, not exactly helpless, but not stopping him either, as he put soap on my chest, my arms, and in my armpits, before washing me off. Then, he lathered up my dick and balls. His hand was so warm against my member. I began to get hard again as he pulled on my dick. It was so slick as he rubbed my head that I shivered and whimpered.

"Ah! Ah, maybe I should--"

"Shhh," my brother shushed me. He massaged my nuts in his palm, then pulled them through his hand several times. It actually felt incredible. It felt a little too incredible, too sensitive, when he used a finger to put soap on my taint, moving towards my ass. Once again, I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't let me. He spun me around and put soap on my butt cheeks. His hand began to move into my butt crack. He soaped up my crack. I couldn't say it didn't feel awesome. I liked it a lot, but then his finger began to push into my butthole, which didn't feel good. I asked him to stop and he listened. He got down on his knees and lathered up my legs, then did each foot, lifting them up to wash them one by one, even getting in between my toes. I felt like a really special toy or something; I felt cared for. Alan stood up and smiled at me, in a really kind way that I wasn't quite used to.

"You're the best, Victory. I know I'm a selfish asshole, and I know I humiliate the fuck out of you. I wanna change that. I don't want you to feel bad anymore. I want you to feel the way I feel when I look at you."

Tears began to leak out of my eyes. I loved Alan so much. He was so important to me.

"What's wrong, dude?" Alan asked.

"Nothing. It makes me so happy when you tell me nice things. All I want is for you to accept me," I replied.

"In gonna do more than that," Alan said, "I'm gonna build up your confidence and fix your self-esteem. Fix the problem I created. You're gonna be a cocky motherfucker like me, and I'm gonna get you laid."

I pulled back, shocked. Alan had a strange look on his face, one I'd never seen on him before, but nonetheless recognized: insecurity. I laughed nervously, trying to defuse the situation.

"Hate when when that happens," I said. Alan swallowed, I could see his adam's apple bobbing up and down under the dark little, thick hairs growing on his throat since his last shave. "Random boners," I clarified, hopeful.

"Bro," Alan replied, "I'm just..."

"Pent up, yeah," I finished his sentence.

Alan nodded, and continued, "Yeah, man. I'm pent up. I need release. I'd probably be a lot nicer to you."

"I'm not gay!" I blurted out.

Alan looked confused. "Neither am I," he replied. I was relieved. For a moment. "A hole's a hole though."

I had no idea what was going on. I was used to my brother treating me like an object, a chair, a table, even a toilet; but a flashlight was something else entirely. I think he knew what I was thinking, could read it on my face.

"I'm not saying you're just a hole," Alan replied, "I'm trying to be nicer to you, I promise. This will help me be nicer

Come on man," he pleaded. I wasn't used to this. Usually Alan ordered and I obeyed. He was asking.

"What do you want?" I queried, immediately regretting what I'd said and following it up with "No, no, I'm not gay, dude!" I hadn't even slept with a girl yet, partially Alan's fault, but I knew for a fact I was straight. I always thought about girls, I'd never had a sexual thought about another man in my entire life.

"Just let me fuck you dude, I'll be real quick," my brother replied, totally ignoring the rest of what I'd said.

I was NOT going to let my brother fuck me in the ass! Perhaps I'd been a pussy my entire life, but that didn't mean I had to be his LITERAL pussy. I had let him run over me, control me, take advantage of me, but losing my virginity to my own brother... that was just too much. And getting fucked no less, not even being the one to fuck him! I simply couldn't do it, and told him as much. The look on his face crushed me. He looked hurt. It seemed like more than merely wanting to dump a nut and being denied. I wondered, once again, if he was gay. I wondered if he liked me. I searched his broad, handsome face. My brother looked his age. He hadn't always. When he was in his early twenties, he'd looked around thirty. Now that he was 29, he still did. He liked to keep his dark, black hair short, his face clean-shaven, and lacked any traces of real aging other than a few lines on his forehead. He had a square, masculine jaw, big lips, and even bigger ears, but not to the point they looked weird or anything. Of course I could tell my brother was attractive. That didn't mean I was attracted to him. And even if I couldn't, the girls he'd always had around him when we were younger would have proven it. When I was younger I was so incredibly jealous of all the pussy he got. He used to fuck a new girl every week, kicking me out of our bedroom, and I'd sit on the toilet, lonely, jerking off and imagining it was me making those girls scream the way they were.

Which is why I was so damn shocked. Alan couldn't be gay, he just couldn't. Perhaps he'd gotten lazy and addicted to videogames, so used to having me around as a servant to wait on him hand and foot that he never really thought about getting any pussy, but that didn't mean he was a homo.

Once again, Alan seemed to be able to read my mind. "Dude, I'm not a fag. I just need to nut real bad. Like I told you, I'm trying to be nicer to you, and I think it's just that I'm so frustrated. Sexually. Just help me cum and I won't fuck with you anymore. I'll clean up after myself. I'll move all my stuff back into my room. You can bring girls over, if you really even want that. Come on, man!"

I wondered what the hell he meant by 'if you even really want that', but that isn't what I found myself talking about.

"Dude, I'm a virgin!"

I regretted what I'd said immediately. I felt embarrassed. Alan already knew that I looked up to him, wished I could the confident, masculine kinda guy that he was. Now he knew just how far away I was from it. As though he couldn't already tell when he'd seen how tiny my penis was compared to his. A sly grin split his face in two; my cheeks flared red. He cackled.

"Come on, bro," I pleaded, "please don't make fun of me. You know I can't be like you. I wish I could, but I can't. I'm not like you."

I could tell he felt bad immediately. The smile was gone in a flash, replaced by something much darker.

"Dude. Don't say that. I told you, you're not a loser, and I'm sorry. I know it's my fault you feel like you're a wimp, you don't have to be like that. You got the potential. You're MY brother, after all. You just need more confidence, that's all. I said I'll help you. I won't order you around anymore, or put you down. I know you can get laid, bro, I'll help you."

I felt like my chest was an engine, revving, hot. All I'd ever wanted in my entire life was this kind of approval from Alan. To feel like I was good enough, to feel like he liked me.

"But please, man. Help me. Just this once."

I caved. Of course I did. Did anyone really think I could actually say no to my brother?

"Okay, man. But please, not my ass."

I said, exasperated. A wide grin lit up my brother's face. "Aight, suck me off," he said, waggling his eyebrows. I felt sick. He slapped me in the stomach with his massive boner. The weight was incredible. My own penis shrunk out of humiliation.

"Man, please, be nice," I begged. I knew how my brother could be, how domineering and callous and self centered; and his dick was SO goddamn big. I was quite scared. I had no clue how to suck dick, but some of the porn I watched was pretty violent, the girl struggling to breathe on an alpha dude's massive cock, him forcing her to puke and suffer on the thick tool lodged deeply in her throat. I didn't want to go through that. "Please, please, PLEASE Alan. Please don't hurt me."

I could feel myself tearing up against my will. I had no idea why, but I was about to cry. I just didn't want him to make me suffer too badly. I wanted to make him happy and help him out. I wanted him to feel good. I think, looking back, maybe it was that he'd just been so nice to me, told me how I wasn't worthless, that he felt guilty for making me feel that way. In my mind, I guess, porn is all about the guy treating the girl like she's trash. Using her. I was scared the recent kindness would all be washed away, obliterated by a fast throatfuck. Of course, I knew my brother couldn't change suddenly. Of course he was still the same person and it would be slow work. But I didn't want him to go back to exactly how he was before and forget everything he'd just told me.

Alan grabbed the back of my head, his palm against my wet hair, and pulled me into him. For a second, I thought he was about to shove me down onto his cock right away. Instead, he kissed me on the forehead. "Don't cry, little brother," he said, "I won't be too rough. I love you, Victoreo." He kissed the top of my hair, sliding my face down his chest, his wet body hair grabbing my forehead.

I'd forgotten about that nickname, Victoreo. It was a mix of Victor, my name, and Oreo. I don't even know where it came from, since I've never liked oreos, but Alan used to call me that as a little kid. My dick jumped for some reason, when he kissed my head. I remember that.

He pulled me back, with an evil grin. "Not too rough," he continued, "but it ain't like sucking a lollipop either. I want your throat, not just your mouth, bro."

Before I could respond, he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to my knees. His enormous, hard, 8 inch cock was wagging in my face, the head so big I was unsure if I'd even be able to put it in my mouth. But I did. Opening my mouth as wide as possible, I began to suck my brother's massive erection. Above me, I felt him moan in relief, which made me feel good about myself. I tried going deeper, but would retch every time I got anywhere near the halfway point.

Alan began to run his hand through my hair as I bobbed up and down on his hard dick. After a couple minutes he pulled me off of it, and tipped my head upwards to look at him with a finger on my chin.

"Dude, that feels good," he said. I beamed with pride. "But," he continued, "I kinda want your permission to get rougher."

I was unsure. On one hand, I wanted him to cum, and to feel good, but on the other I was scared.

"I won't be too mean," he assured me.

"Okay, " I agreed.

"So I have your permission?" He asked.

I nodded. He told me to suck on his nuts first. I obeyed, putting his big, egg sized, hairy testicles in my mouth, first one then the other. After a couple minutes of this, he put his fingers in my mouth to open it as wide as possible. With his other hand, he began to stretch my throat out, using his fingers into gagged on his hand as he went deeper and deeper, introducing more fingers as he went. My throat began to produce more slime as i gagged on my brother's fingers. Then, without warning, he slammed his erect tool nearly all the way down my throat. His thick pubic bush was all I could see as I struggled while he held my head still, keeping his cock in exactly the same position, allowing my throat to relax around it and get used to it. Eventually, I stopped struggling, other than my throat spasming periodically as it rejected the gigantic invader inside of it. Slime and spit leaked out of my mouth, running down my chin in torrents. I began to get used to it, learning to breathe through my nose. That was when Alan slid the rest of his dick in, pushing my nose all the way into his crotch. My nose was totally filled with his thick, black pubes and I was now totally unable to breathe; my eyes slammed into his furry stomach, and my throat bulged with his fat cock head inside of it. Alan pulled me all the way off of his colossal erection and I gasped for air. Alan grinned and chuckled.

"Damn, I'm the fucking man!" He said. I felt my dick start to get hard, against my will. I felt confused, but didn't have enough time to think about things. Immediately, my brother shoved his dick straight back down my throat, and now began to really throat fuck me. I puked, of course, but this did nothing to stop him. Luckily, the vomit acted as lubricant, making his cock slide in and out of my throat more easily. The only thing that bothered me was that I could feel it in my nose, which made it harder to breathe.

Alan basically used me like a ragdoll. I had almost no control over my own body, but then again, I was used to that, especially around him. I was already his table, his footstool, his doormat, and his toilet. What was being his fleshlight? The only thing that bothered me was how my dick also seemed to be out of my control. It was incredibly hard and leaking precum as I was turned into a human fleshlight, and that scared me. I knew I couldn't possibly be gay, but somehow, I was now very horny.

Alan pulled his fat monster cock out of my throat and pushed my face under his balls. I didn't understand what he wanted. His heavy nuts rested on my forehead, his hairy ass on my face. Then, he farted and laughed, plunging his boner right back down my esophagus, my eyes watering with the thick stench of his gas all around me head.

"Sorry lil dude, I've always wanted to do that when getting head. I saw it in a video once and I think it's hilarious."

I felt utterly degraded, but it was far from over. My dick jumped and pumped out more precum. I began to jerk myself off as my brother jackhammered my throat with his eight inch tool. More vomit spewed up my throat and out of my mouth, coating my brother's immense cock. He didn't care. Suddenly, he rammed his cock balls deep and pinched my nose between his finger and thumb so that i couldn't breathe. I kept thinking he'd let go any second now, but he didn't, and as the seconds went by I started to get worried. I began to struggle, pushing myself against his legs, but to no avail. He held my skull firm against his crotch with the other hand. I began to feel like I was suffocating. I could feel my face turning blue. I wondered if Alan would feel bad if I choked to death on his dick or if he would feel even more macho. I was starting to feel dizzy, my vision was blurry. I began to pound on my brother's thighs, hitting, scratching, desperate to breathe.

With a pop, I slid off of his cock as he let me go; it felt like a huge pipe being pulled out of my throat. I gasped for air, sucking it down gratefully. I felt a sharp pain as my brother slapped me repeatedly; I tried to defend myself, putting my hands up.

"Take my fucking cock, retard!" Alan yelled.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Was all I could manage.

I began to cry. Right away, Alan felt bad. I could tell. He crouched down so he was on my level, and touched the side of my face tenderly with his fingers; I cringed. I couldn't help myself.

"Bro I'm... shit... well, fuck. I didn't mean it. I just get so horny. Forgive me. Please."

I couldn't help but forgive him. I loved my brother and I knew he was trying to be nicer.

"It's okay," I said. Alan smiled.

"Eh... well I guess that kinda ruined everything. You don't want to keep sucking me off, do you? I know that was too far," he replied.

"Please, let me. I want to suck your dick," I said. I was telling the truth. I was incredibly horny. It was the first time I'd ever really done anything sexual, and I wanted to see how things would end. I wanted to jack off. I wanted... I don't know. Maybe I even wanted my brother to suck my dick too, but I didn't tell him that, or even really think it at the time. Alan was beaming.

"Shit, man. I fucking loooovvee you!" He exclaimed, and grabbed my face and began to kiss me.

I went inside McDonald's, my heart thumping. It had been quite a while since I'd seen Bill or Tanner. In fact, the last time I'd seen the pair they had been trying to spit roast me, although I had declined since I'd wanted my first time having penetrative sex to be with my best friend, Michael. Tanner greeted me with a hug when I entered the establishment, much to my astonishment. Neither of these guys were open about the full extent of their sexual inclinations. He was so tall that my head only reached his collar bones. Bill grinned wryly, and held out his fist for a fist bump.

"What's up, bro!"

Shouted Tanner, his usual goofy self. He put his arm around Bill, nonchalantly, as the three of us made polite conversation. I noticed that Bill had gotten even bigger, in every way. He had clearly been working out even more, his biceps and legs even more defined than they already had been; at the same time, his round gut was even more round, a big ball that stuck out underneath the layer of fat covering his pecs. It didn't look like he was slowing down, either. He had a large fry, two hamburgers, a milkshake, and two dessert pies. I was astounded at the speed with which he was devouring his food. He let out a short belch and grinned sheepishly, looking around to see if anyone had caught him.

"Nice one, dude."

Tanner praised him, slapping him on the back. I had a boner inside my sweatpants. I had no idea why, but watching Bill eat so much, and so fast, was making me incredibly aroused. I wanted to buy him even more food, but I was scared to offer. Luckily, Tanner gave him some chicken nuggets he didn't want, which Bill promptly devoured. I hid my boner in my waistband and walked up to the counter to buy food. I had planned to get a meal and then pretend I was already full after only eating a little bit, giving the rest to Bill.

I say 'had', because at that very moment something unexpected happened. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see Westley.

"I thought that was your car."

He told me. I greeted him. He asked if we could talk somewhere private; I could tell he was upset, so I said goodbye to my friends and followed him out to his truck. We got inside, something not as easy for me as it was for him. I'm sure he was used to climbing up into his lifted automobile, but I was not.

"What's up?" I asked, "You okay?"

West nodded, and seemed to try to collect himself, looking at the floorboard. I watched Bill eat inside the restaurant, through the glass. Tanner held a drink up to his mouth, and watched him as he sipped. I got the feeling there was something about them that I wasn't quite catching onto. Finally, Westley broke the silence.

"I want to explain something to you, Lance. I dunno why, but I feel like I have to tell you now. Even if it's a bad idea."

The country dude laughed nervously. I tried my best to look sympathetic.

"It's all good, bro. Don't worry."

He genuinely looked like he wanted to cry, and that scared me. He pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes. I realized he wasn't wearing his hat, for the first time since I'd met him.

"You know that question you asked me back there?"

"Yeah, er... why do you like dominating gay guys?"

"I told you not to ask me again."

"No, I was just--"

But West interjected,

"No, no, I'm kidding. I'm stalling. I want to answer it. And then can we never talk about it again?"

I nodded. He continued,

"I have to tell someone. I figure it may as well be you. When I saw your car on my way home, I guessed it must be fate or some shit. Look... you're right. I do like dominating gay guys. I like dominating guys in general, but especially queers. I was thinking about it, I guess it goes back to my childhood..."

Westley leaned back in his seat, swallowing hard, staring at the ceiling of the truck. He grabbed his hat from beside him, where it had been lodged in the car door, and put it low on his head so that it covered his eyes. He was quiet for a little bit. I just sat in silence with him. I didn't want to rush him or make him feel uncomfortable, not any more than he already was. Clearly this was something that was very upsetting to him. I felt a little guilty that I'd brought it up, earlier that day, even despite not having any way to know. After several minutes, he popped his hat up with his middle finger, causing his hair to rustle softly, and looked at me. I could see how much this pained him.

"I think it goes back to when I was a kid. I had an older brother. Have. I guess, if he's still alive. Richard. He was real mean to me. He used to beat me up all the time, and I'd just fantasize all day about one day being bigger and taller than him so I could finally beat his ass. He used to hurt me so bad, dude. I'd never do that to you."

His ears started to glaze over. I could tell he was about to cry. I wanted to hug him. I smiled as kindly as I could.

"Never."

He croaked hoarsely, and a couple tears escaped and fell down his cheeks. I took a chance and put my hand on his upper arm. His lips were trembling. I could see him swallow; I patted his arm.

" I would NEVER do that to you," West reiterated, "not REALLY. Not SERIOUSLY."

"I know. I know you wouldn't."

I reassured him. His breath was ragged. More tears streamed down his cheeks. His hair fell down into his eyes again. Impulsively, I reached out, and wiped his cheeks dry. He looked into my eyes like he was trying to read my mind. He looked so sad, so lost and hurt. I reached out and hugged him. He didn't hug me back, but he let himself cry, for real this time. I felt him sob into my chest. I ran my hand across his back, watched my reflection in his car window. It was starting to get dark outside. His hat scratched my neck. His body shook slightly as he sobbed. I whispered into his ear,

"It's alright, West. Please don't feel bad. I don't want you to feel bad."

He pulled back, rubbing his cheeks with the back of his hand. He looked horrified. What had I done wrong?

"Even though... even though I want you to feel bad?"

He finally managed to choke out. I felt so sorry for him. He was so fucked up. Like me, just in a slightly different, complementary way.

"It's not the same, at all. You don't really want me to feel bad. You just want to... humiliate me. And... I like it. I like how you make me feel. A LOT."

I said. West grimaced.

"Yeah. I would never hurt you, not really, not like my brother did to me. But, uh... well, my brother was gay. I don't know, I guess maybe people treated him bad and he took it out on me or something. But it fucked me all the way up, cause I got a kind of fetish or something for getting revenge on faggots for what he did to me. I like to dominate you fuckers. But only like a game. I'd never really..."

He started to choke up again, his eyes getting glassy once more,

"I'd never actually HURT you. I'd never punch you, I'd never slap you, I'd never do anything you didn't want, or tell me it was okay to do. Please, I hope you know that, Lance."

"You're a good person."

I said. Westley began to cry immediately, his expression shifting faster than anything I'd ever witnessed, like what I'd just said had been the most shocking news of his life. He turned away from me and huched into his door, sobbing. I rubbed his shoulder in a friendly way, just trying to let him know I was there for him. After a minute, he sat up and said to me,

"No. I'm not."

His voice was nasally, he sounded like he had a cold. I almost laughed. It sounded adorable.

"You are, West. If you weren't, you wouldn't care at all how I felt about anything. You wouldn't be scared of hurting my feelings or want to be friends with me. You would just treat me however you wanted instead of making sure I was okay with the stuff you wanted to do."

Westley didn't look convinced in the slightest.

"But I... LIKE it when I see you down on the ground, humiliated, degraded, suffering... it makes me HAPPY. I'm a piece of shit, dude."

"Me too," I said, "because I love it when you treat me like garbage and make me suffer. And especially when I see how fulfilled you look at my humiliation."

"You are... the perfect human being..."

Westley said, looking at me with a look that was like one hypnotized, not even fully conscious. I saw him grab his crotch and realized he was erect inside his jeans. I could feel my dick put up a tent inside my sweatpants. I didn't understand how West could look so innocent and pathetic, yet dominant and evil at the same time.

"I want to sit on top of you."

He said. I felt that familiar ache, deep in my balls. Fuck I was horny. I nodded.

"I'll be on top of you, you'll be underneath me. Cause you're nothing compared to me. You're an object."

I grunted, shoving my hand into my pants. We both jerked ourselves off inside our pants.

"You are better than me. I just wanna make you happy."

I told him. West grinned. He was so far from the crying dude I'd just seen less than two minutes ago. So, so far from that.

"Yeahhhh... you want to make me happy, but I just want you to suffer. Actually, no, I don't even care if you suffer or not. You want to make me happy, and I just use you like an object. How you feel doesn't matter to me at all. You're gonna be my doormat, I'm gonna rub my shoes all over you. Then you'll be my seat, and I'll crush you under my weight as I sit on you. Can I fart on you?"

I squirmed in my seat. I was so, unbelievably horny, and I wanted to say yes, but it recalled to mind the memory of Michael farting on me, back in the tent. He'd meant it as a joke, but it had really hurt my feelings. West continued, and continued to masturbate inside his jeans,

"I want to fart on you, in your face. You will be forced to smell my farts, and to suffer. That way I won't have to smell them at all. My life will be great. I'll be kicking back, on top of you, watching TV, while you smell my fuckin' farts. Oh fuck, man... Oh, I want to fart on you so bad, Lance. Please."

I nodded, out of breath. I wanted to suffer for West, I wanted to make him happy, to feel good as he degraded me beyond belief. The worse he treated me, the more I enjoyed it. I absolutely loved being a doormat for this straight, confident, alpha male. He was so rude, so cocky, so undeniably powerful.

"Come on."

He said, and started the truck. Oh shit. He meant now?

\---

We drove up to a very familiar apartment complex. It was the one that Michael lived at. I felt my heart drop. What were the odds? Luckily, we drove well past the first row of apartment buildings, where Michael lived, and down into the back. We hopped out of his big truck, and West made a beeline for one of the first floor apartments. I followed, chest thumping in anticipation.

As soon as we went inside, Westley ran to his pantry and pulled out a box of protein bars. I was already wondering if I'd regret this. He was fully serious! It was not just a fantasy. His hand was still down his pants, distorting the waist line of the jeans; I could see his thick, blonde pubic hairs poking out as he rubbed his dick. He basically inhaled two protein bars, and then asked me, very nicely, if I wanted to lay down on the couch. I nodded, meekly, and lay down on his couch on my back. He sat on my chest, and turned the TV on.

West was not too heavy, but he was still a lot of weight. I could feel his ass pressing down on me, his body crushing me. Truth be told, it felt rather good. I kinda felt safe underneath him. He looked down at me, turning his hat backwards. His mouth was open. He shook his head.

"You're such a faggot. Gay."

He said to me, more with a tone of wonder and praise than cruelty. I felt myself get hard. He noticed, right away. I apologized, but he ignored me. He rubbed my dick through my grey pants. I moaned. He kept looking from my face to my dick and rubbing the head of my dick tenderly with his left hand while he continued to jerk himself off through his jeans with his right. Then, suddenly, he pushed his lips together, rose one eyebrow, and made a little 'mmm' sound. It was like a delayed, cartoon reaction that it took a whole two seconds for me to feel a fart vibrate, deeply, across my chest. He let out a satisfied 'ahhhh' and shot me a silly grin. I was thinking that I loved him, though I know it's only lust.

"You like that, fag?"

He asked, his tone one of total self-congratulation. He was proud of himself. I nodded quickly, and then let out a little yelp, shuddering when he pushed his hand into my pants and grabbed my cock; the change in sensitivity was just so extreme. He looked real proud of himself for that one too. He parted his lips and let some drool come out onto my face, smearing it around with his fingers.

"You are just... oh, man!"

He said. I knew exactly how the guy felt. I kept making little noises as he jerked me off. It felt incredible.

Suddenly, he moved his ass up in the air, and over above my head, and let out a loud fart right above my face, followed by a grunt, and then slammed his butt back down into my chest. The stench was deep, and made me cough repeatedly. It was fucking awful. I didn't like it at all. I felt so worthless, like a total loser being bullied and degraded... which is exactly what I liked to feel like. My head spun at the dichotomy between the horrific smell of Westley's fart and the transcendent feeling of his spit slicked palm rubbing my dick up and down.

"How's that smell, homo?"

Westley asked me. I told him the truth.

"Horrible."

He laughed.

"I know it does. Glad you have to put up with it. You deserve it for being gay."

I felt like trash underneath him. He was so awesome, so strong, handsome, self-assured; so incredibly attractive and fun to be around. I was a total loser. I was annoying and pathetic and ugly and I had a small dick, unlike him. I was gay, he was straight. I deserved to be degraded. I deserved to smell Westley's farts. I was an ant, he was a god in the heavens above me. I sniffed the remnants of his stench in the air, thinking about how even that awful smell was too good for me. I wanted to put my nose right into his hole. I started to shudder and buck my hips into his fist.

"Wow, that really turned you on, huh? You like to sniff my farts, don't you faggot?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

I repeated, desperately. I wanted to cum and I wanted him to fart on me again.

"Please..."

I begged.

"Please what?"

He taunted.

"Please fart on me West, please! Please..."

I plead. I needed it so badly. Westley grinned and chuckled.

"Okay, okay," he said in a tone of mock annoyance, "I guess I'll fart on you, since you want it so damn bad, you homo queer."

He planted his ass on my face, crushing me beneath it. The weight was even heavier, here. I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to put up with it; at the same time, being underneath Westley's butt felt awesome! I really liked being under him, feeling his heavy strength on top of me, the warmth of his ass. Fuck. I liked him!!!

I heard a squeak as a small, silent fart filled the space between his ass and my face. Above me, I heard,

"Oh, fuck! I'm sorry for that one, bro! Really."

I realized what he meant a moment later. The stench was unbearable. I started to gag, jerking my body upwards, but I was pinned down by Westley's ass. I couldn't take it. It smelled like death and rotting eggs. I felt like I was gonna throw up! Westley grabbed my legs, holding me still.

"Relax! Relax, dude! You're gonna be okay, trust me. It ain't gonna kill you buddy! It just sucks... but, you know, that's life for a little faggot chair, sometimes the farts really, really stink and you just gotta suffer through it. But just trust me, man. You'll be alright."

I realized he was right. I couldn't give up. I wanted to make him happy. I needed to make him happy. I calmed down, taking in the ungodly stench of his fart. Man, this really sucked! But isn't that what it was all about? Suffering and going through bad stuff that I could have avoided, just to please Westley? Cause it made him happy to see me suffer. I sniffed his ass, and gagged again. I wanted to suffer for Westley. I wanted to add to his glory. I wanted to do whatever he wanted.

West fired off another round of farts, straight into my face. I liked it. I liked being under him, smelling his nasty farts, hearing him grunt and moan and tell me how much I deserved it. After about fifteen minutes, he got off my face and stood above me, his dick out. He pumped up and down on his cock, making incredibly erotic sounds as he did so. I masturbated myself as well, the cloud of his stench still hanging around my head. Finally, with a long, drawn out groan, Westley shot spurt after spurt of cum onto my face, coating it. I had to close my eyes to stop them from getting hit.

I felt West wrest control of my dick from me, and start to vigorously jerk me off. With his other hand, he smeared his cum and spit all around my face, calling me a little faggot worm that deserved everything he'd ever done to me. I could only moan in response. His hot hand felt incredible on my cock, sliding up and down, coated with his spit. I felt like he hated me and loved me at the same time. I couldn't see anything, my eyes weighed down with the spit and semen that covered my entire face, so I brought into my mind the memory of Westley's handsome face, recalling, especially, how he'd looked in the car earlier, when he was about to cry; that sent me over the edge. Right as I was gonna ejaculate, I called out, without realizing,

"Westley... Westley! Westley! I love you, ah! I love you!"

I came harder than I'd ever cum in my entire life, feeling like I was about to cry. I felt like I was in heaven. I felt Westley's lips up against my ear, though I still didn't open my eyes, and he whispered,

"Love you too, faggot. You're such a good guy. I love you too."

I wiped the spit and cum off of my eyes, drying it all into my shirt. West was already gone. I could hear someone peeing, somewhere else in the apartment. I wondered if I hadn't imagined what I thought he'd just whispered into my ear. I pulled my sweatpants back up over my boner. It wouldn't go down, not yet anyway. I heard the toilet flush, and Westley came back into the living room. He looked like he wanted to cry or something. I asked him what was wrong, but he didn't say anything, just crossed his arms. I wondered if he felt guilty for what we'd just done. I walked over to him. Man, he was so attractive.

"I want you to be happy and feel good."

Westley told me. I felt my heart sink. What a sweet guy.

"How do I do that?"

He asked.

"You do... and you... just did."

I said to the redneck, kinda laughing. I looked into his blue eyes, his lips that seemed kinda big for his face. I'd never noticed that before.

"There is something you... COULD do, though, that would make me happy," I continued, "but you don't have to say yes. You can say no, if you don't want to."

"What is it?"

"You could kiss me. If you wanted."

He hesitated, replying,

"I don't think... I don't... but I... I mean... I guess..."

He leaned in and pressed his lips into mine, kissing me. Then his lips wetted his tongue, and he kissed me again; I kissed him back. He smiled nervously as he pulled away from me.

When he drove me back to my car we passed Michael's apartment, at the front of the complex. I could see Michael's beat up, brown F150. I sighed. When we got back to McDonald's it was fully dark, Bill and Tanner were, of course, gone. I studied Westley's face in the moonlight. I saw how the light glinted off of the big, gold fish hook on his hat.

"I really like being around you, West."

I told the guy, even knowing it might be risky to say. I guess I didn't care as much after what I'd told him earlier. He smiled, looking embarrassed.

"That makes me feel good."

He said simply. I kinda nodded, and got out of his truck. He saluted me as he left, then did his characteristic thing where he flipped the bill of his cap with his middle finger, as he drove off. I made a mental note to ask him what it meant next time I saw him. Westley was way cooler than I'd realized. He didn't just want to hook up. He wanted me to also like him. He wanted me to take the place of his older brother, so that he could punish me for what "I" had done to him, and also make me care about him, like I hadn't before. I couldn't lie and say I wasn't trying to make him into a substitute for my high school bullies, having him reenact their transgressions, but also knowing that he actually would never hurt me, that he didn't hate me like they did. Trying to soften the blows by telling myself they had actually liked me all along.

Tw: Raunch

Theo felt himself get hot, sticky, humid. His palms began to sweat. The familiar, rosy-cheeked face across the room was smiling, he looked pleasant enough, but it made Theo very anxious. He hurriedly went around the corner, avoiding Aaron. Aaron hadn't done anything wrong, and Theo felt bad about what he'd just done, it was simply that the mere fact of seeing the blonde man made Theo feel self conscious. Ever since the incident the day before, Theo had been caught in a spiral-loop of overthinking. He didn't understand how a single encounter had overturned everything he thought he'd known about himself!

Although he'd had a difficult time as a teenager and had been bullied a bit, especially over his sexuality, Theo had never romanticized the bullying. He'd never hated himself for his sexuality, nor did he sexualize being treated badly. He'd always thought that the guys who were into being dominated hated themselves for being gay, and Theo was proud of his sexuality; insofar as 'pride' entails such a thing. Really, he just didn't think about it that much, other than that he didn't want people at work to know because it might make things complicated. Somehow, though, his encounter with Aaron's ass the day before had turned Theo's world right upside-down. While underneath the straight dude, Theo had realized just how much he'd enjoyed being dominated, and that scared him.

Secondly, he kept overthinking things with Aaron. He kept recalling the fantasy that Aaron had told him, the entire reason the guy had wanted to fart in Theo's face. Aaron had a domination fetish. As he'd told Theo in the bathroom the day before, he had fantasized nearly his entire life about coming across a good looking girl with a boyfriend and beating the guy up, farting in his face, and then fucking the girl. Most importantly, the girl would go home with Aaron because she'd no longer be able to respect her boyfriend. Having seen her boyfriend completely and utterly humiliated by Aaron, to the point that he'd literally been farted on by another man (in the face, no less), the woman would lose all attraction for the man who was formerly her boyfriend. She would now see him as nothing but a joke. While, for Aaron, the important part of the story, no doubt, was that he be seen as a total alpha male for having dominated the hell out of another man, for Theo the lesson was a little different. Theo was the one who had been farted on, after all. He felt like he could no longer look Aaron in the eye. I mean, I guess he already couldn't since their height difference was so extreme, but you know what I mean. Theo felt like Aaron no longer respected him now that he'd allowed the guy to degrade him so severely. He felt repulsive, he felt like when Aaron looked at him now all he saw was a pathetic little loser who had been underneath his ass. And that really hurt Theo, because he'd liked Aaron a lot as a friend. Aaron was kind and handsome, and Theo had really liked working alongside him at Panopticon Inc. Now there was no chance they'd ever be friends.

Theo ducked into his office and closed the door. He had a lot of 'paperwork' (it was all on the computer now) to do anyway, so he didn't really need to be out in the larger office area today anyway. Theo wasn't sure how long he could keep this up, though. He'd have to work with Aaron at some point.

Theo had just finished up most of his paperwork from the week before, and was almost ready to go to lunch, when he heard a knock on the door.

"Come in," he said, without thinking. The door opened, and in stepped Aaron, having to duck slightly to get under the doorframe.

"Hey, man. Haven't seen you all day, what are you doing in here, avoiding me?" Aaron laughed, like it was a joke; but he could see, in Theo's crimson complexion, the truth of what he'd just said. "Wait, why?" He asked. He sounded hurt, and Theo felt guilty.

Hurting Aaron had been the last thing Theo had wanted to do. The entire reason he'd agreed to the thing at all had been to make Aaron feel good. The gay man could tell how much it had meant to Aaron.

"I'm sorry, man. I just... I don't know, " he finished lamely. He didn't know what to say. He felt like he'd fucked everything up.

"Well dude, what's wrong? I thought you were gonna ask me for a return favor today," Aaron replied. He had promised Theo anything he'd wanted if he'd helped him fulfill his desires.

"Embarrassing," Theo mumbled. Aaron was confused.

"Wait, what? What are you talking about man?"

Theo sighed. He figured it was just best to be out with it and tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"I'm embarrassed, honestly. I just feel like when you look at me you're disgusted."

Aaron knelt down so that he was on Theo's level.

"Bro, why would you think that?"

Theo couldn't help himself from feeling a surge of attraction towards the other guy. Aaron was just so fucking handsome, and his face was so close to Theo's. He could count the guy's eyelashes. If he had wanted to. He kept talking,

"Because of what you told me yesterday. Your fantasy, you know?" Aaron looked confused, so he clarified, "That the guy you fart on is degraded, he's disgusting. I feel like that's how you see me now, dude. I feel so awful." Theo wanted to cry. He could feel himself choking up and his eyes filming over with tears, which only made him feel even more pathetic.

"Dude, fuck. Making you feel awful is the last thing I wanted to do. You're awesome, man! After everything you did for me yesterday? You're the man. I don't see you as disgusting at all. I mean, I jerked over you four times last night. I mean..." Aaron blushed and stumbled over his words, clearly flustered, "Not over you, I mean, like, over what we did. Over the situation. I'm not gay. I mean. But... I'm so far from being disgusted by you. You think when I see you across the room I feel disgusted? When I look at you I get horny, bro. Just seeing your face makes me start to get hard cause it makes me think about that face being under my ass. Fuck."

Aaron looked around the room, breathing raggedly. He was flustered, his cheeks red. He calmed himself down, then continued, "Hey, look, you said you wanted to give me a blow job, right? I promised you whatever you wanted in return for helping me fulfill my dream. You made me SO fucking happy, bro. You want it, it's yours."

Theo hesitated. He had been going to ask for just that, but now he wasn't so sure. After Aaron had left, he'd realized just how much being dominated and degraded had turned him on. In fact, he'd given himself a swirly while imagining Aaron was the one giving it to him, and masturbated, with his head down the toilet. He didn't want to ask for that either. He was too scared.

"Will you kiss me?" Theo asked, surprising himself. Yet, as he looked at Aaron's full lips, he felt that maybe it wasn't really such a surprise after all. Aaron snickered incredulously.

"That's what you want?" He asked. Theo nodded. Aaron gave the brown-haired boy a little half smile. He looked nervous.

"Well, alright then," he said, "if that's what you want, that's what you get. Let's do it, I guess."

Aaron shot out a loud breath. He was clearly very nervous. Obviously, kissing another man was a lot harder for him than farting in another man's face. Theo felt bad. He felt like he was taking advantage of the guy.

"Wait, stop," Theo said. Aaron raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to. I know you're, straight. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, forget it."

"Well... man, you didn't have to let me fart in your face, but you did. And now I get to jerk off to that for forever. Fucking A. I can't even begin to pay you back. I doubt I'll ever get to do that again, it was like a once in a lifetime thing, you know? So it's the least I can do. Please, Theo. Let me kiss you."

Theo melted in Aaron's broad hands. Being ASKED by the handsome man if HE could kiss Theo was really incredible. That alone was worth what he'd done the day before. Aaron could see it in Theo's face, and he could see how much he wanted to be kissed by him, so he did it. Aaron tenderly put his hand around Theo's neck, his thumb on the boy's jaw, and leaned in and kissed him. To Theo, the kiss felt surprisingly gentle. It didn't seem as though Aaron was just trying to get things over with, however scared he'd been to do it. He kissed Theo several times, their lips sliding over one another with grace. When Aaron pulled back, he looked at Theo with an expression of kindness. Theo felt his heart jump.

"You know, that really wasn't much to ask of me," Aaron said. "You can have more than that, I really appreciate what you did for me, bro."

"Th-thank you," Theo stuttered. A bright, sly grin broke across Aaron's face.

"Just ask and you shall receive," he said, in a cocky tone. Then, slapping his thighs and rising, "Well. Time for lunch."

---

That evening, Theo determined he had worked up enough courage to ask Aaron for what he really wanted. He found the blonde before work was over and asked him if they could meet in the bathroom again, after everyone had gone home. Aaron just flashed him a winning smile and said, "Sure! Whatever you want, man."

Two hours later, Theo was waiting, nervously, in the Panopticon bathroom, biting his nails. Perhaps he had the courage to ask Aaron for what he really wanted, but what was it that he really wanted? He was unsure. He straightened up and pulled his fingers from his mouth as Aaron walked in.

"What's up, bud?" The tall, handsome dude asked. Theo swallowed, dryly and muttered a 'hey' back.

"So... what'd you want me to meet you here for, then?"

"I, uh... I wondered if you'd do something for me," said Theo.

"I said that I would. Want to suck my cock?"

Theo made up his mind. Aaron had made it sound so enticing, and it really was a dream come true. When would he ever again have the opportunity to suck off such an attractive straight man? He nodded, quickly. Aaron chuckled and grabbed the bulge in his jeans, kneading it. The two men went into the same bathroom stall from the day before. Theo sat down on the toilet lid, the same place he'd sat when Aaron had humiliated him the day before. The same toilet he'd flushed his head in after the guy had left, jerking off and thinking about him.

Theo watched as Aaron's nimble fingers undid the buckle on the black belt slipped through the loops on his jeans. The metal buckle drooped down, Aaron deftly pushed the button through its hole and unzipped his fly. His red and white striped briefs came into view. Theo looked up at Aaron's face, and the guy grinned.

"Good thing you're so short. You're just the right height." Aaron always found a way to make Theo feel small.

The blonde boy started to massage his bulge through his briefs, pulling down the waistband slightly to reveal a thick, untrimmed, blonde bush. Theo almost started drooling (at least in his head he did). He wanted Aaron so very badly; he was so attracted to him, and he liked him so much. Despite the incredibly extreme and degrading experience the guy had put Theo through, it had somehow been awesome as well. Theo had gotten to feel like he had helped Aaron out, been the person Aaron was able to admit his darkest secret to, accepted him, aided him in realizing his dream. He felt good making Aaron happy, and he wanted to keep making him happy, wanted to make him feel good. He reached out to pull Aaron's boxers down, but Aaron pushed Theo's hand away; not rudely, but with a little smirk. He put his own hand inside of his boxers and began to jerk himself off. Theo watched him as he closed his eyes, let his mouth fall open, and let out a little moan. His cheeks turned even deeper red. Theo felt himself get erect inside his pants.

"Bro, can I... you don't have to do it, you can say no, but can I ask you for something?" Said Aaron, suddenly, opening his eyes.

"Uh, sure."

"Man, you know what would be so awesome? To get my dick sucked after farting on your face. You don't have to. But it would fulfill my fantasy even more. Man..." Aaron laughed, his tone thick with lust. Theo frowned, his brown eyebrows pushing closer together.

"You don't have to, like I said. You can suck me off either way," Aaron said.

Theo was unsure of what to do. Aaron was practically humping the air at this point, the guy was incredibly horny, and that made Theo horny too. Despite the fact that what had transpired the day before had aroused him, it had also made him feel uncomfortable, because he just didn't know how to feel about the fact that he was turned on by being degraded by Aaron. He had never been into that sort of thing before, and now it was his main fantasy. He also remembered what Aaron had said the day before.

"But yesterday you wouldn't let me suck you off because you farted on my face," Theo reminded the tall dude.

"Well... yeah... I guess I did say that. Just once, okay? That won't be so bad, I'm sure it'll be fine, man. Just one little fart. Please?" Aaron pleaded. Apparently he was so horny he didn't care.

Theo hardly felt like he could so no to Aaron. He was rather unsettled with just how much he was starting to like the blonde boy. It was concerning. He was falling under his control. He nodded, timidly.

"Alright, I'm gonna do it facing you, bro. Thanks a lot man, this is fucking incredible."

Aaron's excitement was palpable, just like the day before. Theo found out funny how the guy was so nervous about a little kiss, yet so damn elated about farting in his face, moreso than he was about getting his dick sucked!

Aaron stepped forward, grabbed the back of Theo's brown-haired head, and shoved the guy's face into his bulge. Theo felt Aaron's clothed dick smack into his forehead. Then, Aaron pushed his face down, sliding it against his bulging underwear until Theo was kinda slouched down, closer to Aaron's taint most likely, although it was through the man's jeans, which were still on. Aaron held him there for a minute, made a low moaning sound, and then released a grumbling, thick fart. Theo felt the familiar thick, heavy air around his face, making his eyes water; he smelled the familiar stench, and felt a familiar feeling– a mixture of humiliation, shame, and arousal.

Aaron pulled his head back by his hair, which kind of hurt. He snickered at the shorter boy, and then said, "Aw yeah, I'm so superior to you, little loser. Now suck my cock."

Theo's heart sunk. He suddenly felt as though he had been right, that the degradation made Aaron think less of him; it seemed like it was being proven in real time, here and now. Aaron suddenly realized what he'd said when Theo's expression changed. He looked hurt, like a wounded dove. Aaron tried to fix things.

"I mean... hey, listen man! I didn't really mean that. I know what you're thinking, but man, come on. It's just dirty talk, part of the fantasy. You get it, right? I mean dude, I love you, I--" Aaron's face froze. He stammered, "I didn't mean that. Wait, I mean... I mean... oh, fuck." He clapped his hands over his eyes and took several deep breaths. Theo thought he looked kind of funny, so upset but with a boner in the boxers showing through his undone pants. And the bulge was fucking massive.

At the same time, Theo did feel bad. He felt bad about, essentially, being told he wasn't loved by Aaron, and couldn't help the feeling of shame sink back into him, the memory of his recent degregation still lingering like the stink of the fart. He was so split, his mind totally warped as a result of Aaron's actions; it was like Aaron sat on Theo and had smashed the guy's life underneath his ass, mixing his mind up in the process. It made Theo feel like the only place he would ever belong, now, was under Aaron's butt, and he was so confused about whether that was good or bad, regardless of how much his dick was leaking in his pants.

When Aaron looked down at Theo, he could see the hurt in the brown-haired boy's big, hazel eyes. And that made him feel guilty.

"Theo, I didn't mean it like that, you know that, right?" This only cut Theo even deeper, and it showed once again; Aaron was clearly exasperated at this point, protesting, "Bro, I meant I didn't mean it like that when I said 'I didn't mean it'! Ah, shit!" Aaron slapped his forehead with his palm, "I just wanted to get my cock sucked! Wait, no, I didn't..."

Theo couldn't help but laugh when the guy, usually the more cocky of the two, buried his head in his hands yet again. Aaron looked up at him like a kid scared he's gonna get punished by getting sent to bed early. He looked so sad and worried that Theo just wanted to hug and kiss him.

"What are you laughing at! I'm trying to say sorry! Emphasis on trying!" Aaron was starting to crack a smile now too, despite the redness still remaining on his cheeks. He playfully grabbed Theo's face and pretended to slap it, continuing, "I love doing this shit with you and I like being around you. You're the only guy I've ever done anything with. Well, so far we haven't even done anything, really. I don't think the farting is gay... that's just part of my fantasy, you know?" I nodded, he grinned and went on, "But, like, I've never in my life gotten hard over a specific guy, only the thought of dominating one so I could fuck a girl. But shit, man! You get me hard as a rock. Your face. Your face under my ass, fuck, that's where it belongs."

As he talked, Aaron jerked Theo's face around with his left hand, grasping the guy's mouth and shaking his head; with his right hand, the blonde jerked himself off inside of his boxers. Theo noticed a wet spot bleeding through. Theo was also hard as a rock, especially when the taller guy told him he belonged underneath his ass. He couldn't deny that he wanted to be under Aaron's ass. It made him feel so good to be crushed underneath the guy, or at least, the fantasy of being so. He was starting to want more and more degrading things.

"I love being under your ass," Theo suddenly said, surprising himself for the second time that day; Aaron just snickered and jovially darted his tongue out from in between his teeth, responding, "I know you do! That's where you born to be, little loser. Suck my fucking cock!"

Aaron pulled his dick out, and Theo immediately felt a hot fire begin to blaze inside his chest, although it began even lower; his dick hurt because it was pressed so tightly up against his jeans. The cause, of course, was Aaron's own member. Somehow, it was totally perfect, as though somebody had crafted it to fit Theo's exact preferences and specifications. It was both long and thick, probably nearly ten inches, uncut with a heavy foreskin drooping over a very large, bulbous, mushroom head. The whole thing looked like a large sculpture built inside a dense forest of wheat colored bushes as it protruded from Aaron's thick pubic hair. Theo groaned in pain and began to unbutton his jeans.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, bud?" Asked Aaron, though not unkindly, continuing, "Nobody said anything about you getting yours sucked. This ain't the salvation army."

"It hurts. It's pressing into my jeans," explained Theo, looking up at Aaron like a pathetic puppy dog, awaiting the 'ok' so that he could finish what he'd started. It made Aaron feel like a god, and truth be told, he loved the feeling. The more the smaller, brunette boy began to bend to his command, the more powerful and cruel Aaron felt himself becoming. Although, as he looked down at Theo bent over, wincing in pain with a glazed, adoring look on his face– mouth slack and wide, jeans tented upwards like a dark blue pyramid with an immense precum stain soaking downward from the top, Aaron had to admit that there was something else going on as well. He felt a sense of caring and affection for Theo. If Theo was scared that by submitting to the degradation of Aaron, that he was risking becoming devalued, the blonde was scared of the exact opposite. The straight boy was, in contrast, at least a little terrified at just how much he was beginning to feel for Theo. He was not used to this level of emotion, least of all directed at another male. Perhaps it was because the cute little brown-haired faggot had helped him enact his deepest, most valued fantasy, or perhaps it was something else entirely; either way, Aaron was finding himself increasingly passionate in every respect towards Theo, who he wanted to protect and defile, love and destroy, care for and disrespect. He realized Theo was still waiting for an order.

"It's cool, bro. Just unzip 'em," Aaron said, watching as Theo pulled down his fly and struggled to get his boner out, realizing too little too late that the guy was pulling his entire dick out. He was relieved that it was smaller than his.

"Dude come onnn, suck my dick! Please," Aaron pleaded, almost desperately, his voice breathy and low. Theo grabbed the guy's cock, suddenly, and the blonde whimpered slightly. It was at that point that Theo realized the power he held, despite the one without it. He licked Aaron's cock head, and the guy moaned; a deep, low buzz. Theo looked up at him. Aaron's blonde lashes hung low over his sky blue irises, his lips parted, an expression of pure intensity written across his face.

"Come on! Come on," Aaron whispered, frantically, and Theo began to suck his dick. Somehow, it felt totally right and correct for Aaron's dick to be in his mouth; it felt like his rightful place. The warm, thick member pulsated, he could feel Aaron's heartbeat against his tongue. He tried to figure out his friend's heart rate as he picked up the pace, wanting to go quicker and deeper to make Aaron feel good. Theo thought that Aaron's heart seemed to be beating really very fast, and he wondered if that was safe or not. Just as he was starting to go deeper, as Aaron's cock was banging on the entrance to his throat, Theo felt Aaron pull him off of the erection that he wanted so badly to be lodged deep in his esophagus. Theo felt empty without it. He looked up at Aaron, with a face full of longing.

"Want to pull back my foreskin?" Aaron suggested kindly. But when Theo reached out to do so, the blonde man pushed his hand away with a smirk. "With your mouth," Aaron continued. Theo wrapped his lips tightly around the large dick before him, and gingerly pushed the foreskin back until it popped over the large head underneath it; he felt the sweet, salty taste of precum flood his mouth as the fluid that had built up within Aaron's foreskin oozed free. The tall blonde let out a sigh of relief, and Theo had to admit that he had never felt prouder than at that very moment. Making Aaron feel good made him feel even better. Instantly, he felt a pang of sorrow, anticipating the thought that perhaps when this was all over, the two would go back to being nothing more than workplace acquaintances, as though nothing had ever happened, as though Aaron hadn't been inside of Theo's very body, as though Theo hadn't made him feel so much pleasure, as though Theo hadn't been in such a compromising and vulnerable position, underneath the straight man's ass, and under his command. Theo wondered if he could ever get over this intimate situation, regardless of what would now happen.

"Why'd you stop, man? Fuck," asked Aaron.

"Sorry," apologized Theo, "I wanted to ask you a question."

Aaron groaned, the horniness obvious through his tone, the frustration obvious on his face. "What is it, man? I want to cum, man, fuck. Please suck me off dude, I'll do whatever you want from me, if you'll just suck my dick, bro, please!"

As he begged Theo, Aaron ran his fingers through the guy's dark brown, curly hair pushing it back from his forehead, and then pulling on his ear. Theo was suddenly aware of his own erect cock, nakedly at attention as it stood like a lone soldier at the opening of his jeans. He wanted to kiss Aaron yet again.

"Promise?" Theo asked. Aaron looked like he was about to cry.

"Yes, bro, yes! I'll literally give you anything you want, just please!"

"Could you please fart on me again?" Theo replied hesitantly. A big grin split Aaron's face in two.

"Oh, hell yeah!" He exclaimed, excitedly.

"Er... with my face in the toilet?" Theo clarified, nervously. He got scared when the grin fell from Aaron's face, replaced with some stranger kind of expression, something the brunette couldn't read. Theo was even more concerned when Aaron got down onto his knees so that he was level with him.

"Huh?" Theo asked; then, all of a sudden, Aaron grabbed his face and began to kiss him, sweet and slow. Theo felt himself melt into Aaron's mouth in a passionate exchange of body boundary. Aaron pulled out of the kiss, Theo's head still reeling.

"Get your face in the toilet, fucker. You are the very best in the world. I mean that, no matter what else I say after that. Do you understand?" Aaron uttered all at once. Theo was stunned. "Do you get what I'm saying? No matter what I say now, I think you're the best on the planet, shit!"

Aaron looked at Theo like he was expecting him to reply. Theo didn't know what to say, so he just nodded. This was all so much, too much at once. All he knew was that he felt like he was glued to Aaron's palm permanently, or maybe the bottom of his shoe.

"Alright, man. You're awesome. But get your head in the toilet. I'm gonna fuck you up, faggot."

Theo instantly felt the sting of the slur. Aaron had never used that word before, and it hurt him, but he remembered what the man had said: I think you're the very best in the world and I mean that no matter what I say. Theo believed Aaron. He wondered the extent to which Aaron really meant that he thought Theo was the best in the WHOLE world, but he believed Aaron thought that he was awesome, and he understood that the guy was trying to explain that he didn't really mean any of the cruel things he was about to say in the heat of passion now that Theo had made clear just how much he liked to be dominated. Aaron had made it quite clear that he felt a lot of good things when it came to Theo, that rather than his humiliation of the shy guy lowering his respect for the man, it had actually made him feel sexually linked to him. And, too, Aaron had repeatedly voiced his appreciation and fondness for Theo because he'd let the guy play out his most deeply held sexual fantasy. Theo was surprised at the level of emotional intensity Aaron seemed to be expressing towards him, given that the guy was straight. He actually did not doubt that Aaron held him in high regard, and the man's voicing of this only showed how much he cared for Theo as he clearly wanted to make sure he avoided hurting Theo's feelings even when the entire point of what was about to happen was just that.

Theo's head was spinning with all of these thoughts and more as he got off the toilet and joined Aaron on his knees on the cold, grey tile of the Panopticon Inc. bathroom floor. He watched Aaron's vascular hand open the toilet lid, and swallowed, his throat feeling far too dry. He wondered, too late, what he was getting himself into. Aaron slowly pushed seat up, and it joined the lid with a soft tap. Theo stared at the still, clear, almost invisible water that sat as still as a grave in the porcelain toilet.

"Your throne, my good man," Aaron quipped, with a cheesy grin; "My king," he continued. Theo chuckled nervously, but didn't move.

"Come on, dude! You're gonna love it. You were born for this," said Aaron. Theo still didn't move, frozen to the spot, just looking back and forth from the toilet to Aaron and back again.

"Bro," Aaron tried again, a kind smile on his face despite the raging boner poking upwards onto his stomach and dripping with precum, "I really love how much you like this stuff. Do you know how cool it is to meet someone who wants to do this kinda stuff with me? It's awesome! Man, I'm 28. I've gone my whole life without ever being able to really be as alpha as I always wanted to be. Girls are boring, you know that Theo? They hardly even wanna suck dick, let alone do crazy shit like this. I've been so fucking excited all day long since yesterday evening when you let me fart on you, like totally stoked. I could hardly sleep. You get that I couldn't sleep cause I was thinking about you all night? I fucking love you, man. In that way, yeah, I love you! I can't even explain it, dude. It's like it's not gay and it has nothing to do with anything I've ever felt for a girl before either. It's more like we live in our own secret pervert world where we can do whatever the fuck we want, it's wild. You make me excited, I don't know what else to say!"

Theo almost began to cry, but even more than that, he was hornier than ever, and he reached down for his rigid cock and began to jerk himself off. Aaron grinned.

"You certainly have a way with words. I hope you understand how much you could hurt me if you keep being like this towards me. I mean, if you decide you don't mean it anymore one day," Theo told Aaron, but continued to jerk himself off.

Aaron smiled a wide, genuine smile. "Dude, never. I wanna do a million things. I'm sure you have some cool ideas too. This one was yours. Let's do it, bro. Put your head in the toilet."

"Okay," Theo replied, clearing his throat, "also you're really cool too, but I'm scared to say stuff like that. Just... don't think it means I'm not thinking the same thing. Is that ok?"

Aaron nodded. Theo gripped the sides of the toilet and positioned his face above the water. He felt Aaron's hands grip the back of his head by his hair and start to shove his face down, inching it closer and closer to the white, porcelain bottom of the bowl. 'Secret pervert world', he thought to himself as he watched the water rise to meet his nose. He adored Aaron, and wanted to be loved by him. He sputtered and struggled helplessly as his face was dunked into the toilet and he could just hear snatches of the things Aaron was saying above him, words like "fag" and "loser". He felt humiliated, totally under the more dominant man's control, and he couldn't deny how much he loved it. Suddenly he felt the sucking of the water being pulled downward as Aaron flushed the toilet. It made Theo feel even more degraded, bringing to mind his high school years, bullies giving him swirlies in the school bathrooms. He gasped for air as Aaron ripped him up out of the toilet by his wet hair and threw him back into the corner of the stall, breathing heavily, dripping and heaving. He felt pathetic.

"God, you're such a fucking homo," Aaron told Theo, sneering, condescending. The blonde man stood, his cock erect, jeans and briefs at his ankles. Theo started to rise to his knees, thinking he was expected to start sucking again, but Aaron pushed him back, saying, "Stay there, faggot. This is what losers like you get," and let loose a yellow stream of piss onto Theo's face. It was like being washed down with a hose.

Aaron grinned, looking and feeling every bit the powerful, dominant bully that Theo wanted him to be. "Christ, look at you. You're pathetic, aren't you?" He asked. They looked up at him, with little puppy dog eyes as the piss stream slowed, moving down to his short, drenching him. Aaron's boner flexed, involuntarily– he was so turned on by this whole situation, and confused as to what it meant.

"If you had a girlfriend, she'd never speak to again after seeing this. And she'd slobber on my cock. Get your head over the toilet again, you pathetic little loser."

Theo obeyed. Aaron used his hand to turn the smaller man's head so that it was sideways, and Theo was kind of able to look up as Aaron's ass descended down on him. He noted that while the guy's ass was mostly pretty hairless, just peppered with light, blonde, short hairs. In the guy's butt crack however, which was getting closer and closer to the curly haired brunette's face as it rested on the toilet, Theo could see a forest of darker, almost brown hair. He felt like a helpless ant under the immeasurable power of a man's boot as it came down to crush him. He gripped his own cock, excited that what he had fantasized the previous evening after Aaron had left was about to come true.

"Alright, you little wimp. This is how a real man treats a loser like you. You deserve it for being weaker than me, you little dumbass. Fuck."

Theo heard a familiar groan from above, as Aaron strained. He realized what a ridiculous and totally dehumanizing position he was in, his face on the toilet, soaked in piss, about to get farted on by a straight man's naked ass. Then it came, a deep rumble that surrounded his face, marked him as inferior to the handsome man above him. He felt worthless, totally and permanently below Aaron. He gagged as the smell entered his nostrils, jerking back, tears involuntarily being forced from his eyes. Aaron looked down on him and sneered.

"You are garbage, you know that? You are worthless trash. I would never let another man do that to me. Because I'm a real man. I wouldn't submit like that, you fucking weirdo fag. You deserve to get farted on and have your head flushed down the toilet, you are nothing but the dirt under my shoes. Fuck you're weird, totally weird."

Aaron was jerking off furiously now, and everything he was saying to Theo was said in a frantic, hurried manner. Theo realized something, at that very moment– maybe it was hard for him to be open and vulnerable with Aaron and say the things he wished he could say, but he could say them right now under the guise of the dirty talk that Aaron was doing. It was a funny dichotomy: Aaron didn't mean what he said when he was horny, Theo did.

"You are so superior to me," Theo blurted out, "you're awesome. I love you so much, I think you're just the best. I just want to make you happy. I have no other purpose in life. You're really great, you're handsome, funny, kind, dominant, powerful, masculine. I want to serve you, and do anything I can to make your life better."

Aaron's face was deep red, and he masturbated in a wild frenzy as Theo spoke, his brow furrowed, breathing like he was in pain. He wanted to crush Theo and keep him in a little box forever so that he would never, ever have to lose him. He felt so confused.

"Yeah, I'm so much better than you, freak. You love me, I don't give a shit about you. Kiss my shoes, cause you're nothing but the scum on the bottom of my sneakers."

Theo crawled over and kissed his pal's white Nikes, first one then the other. He heard a strained cry and looked up, only to be hit in the face by a spatter of warm liquid. Aaron's face was scrunched up and he was moaning in short staccato, 'Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah...' as he came, one big cum shot after another spraying all over Theo's face, hair, and shirt. Theo wondered how on earth one man could ejaculate so much.

"Whooo!" Aaron sighed with breathy satisfaction, his body jerking forward. He looked down at Theo and grinned sheepishly.

"Ah... my bad, dude. I didn't mean to cum already. I wanted you to suck my dick, but shit that was hot! You just keep making everything better and better. I can't believe I actually get to do this stuff."

Theo smiled at that, and said he hoped he'd be able to give Aaron a blow job some other time.

"Yeah... holy shit, you look... I dunno, I like how you look like that," replied Aaron.

"Like what?"

Aaron grinned nervously, saying, "I dunno. On the ground, hair fucked up, wet with my piss, covered in my cum. Holy fuck, this sounds so gay. What the fuck."

He pulled his pants and boxers up, and handed Theo some toilet paper, but then realized that the brunette was still fully erect.

"You, uh... you're still hard," he pointed out, fiddling with his fingers anxiously. Theo just nodded. Aaron continued, "Was I supposed to help you with that?"

He sounded incredibly nervous, and Theo felt bad for him.

"You can. You don't have to," Theo replied.

Aaron bit his lip. "Would you be mad if I didn't?" He asked. Theo shook his head. He wiped the cum off his face and stood up, pulling his jeans back up. Aaron reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Wait," the blonde guy said, "I can't... okay, you let me really fuck with you, I mean you let me treat you really bad," Aaron said, timidly playing with his blonde hair, brushing his fingers through it, "and I know you weren't really into it when I first asked if I could dominate you. You're, like, the best sport ever, and I love how horny it gets you. Maybe I'm not gay, but one good turn deserves another. I'm not gonna just leave you like this, that's fucked."

Theo swallowed, asking, "What do you wanna do?"

"What the hell are you doing, Lance?"

Asked Connor. His tone was even and low, but he looked shocked. His shoe tumbled from my hands onto the floor. My mouth dried up immediately. I felt like I was compressed between two large sheets of metal, being flattened. I stuttered.

"I'm... I... Connor! Connor, please."

He looked totally disgusting. I was horrified with myself. Had I really ruined things already?! I had liked the guy so much. I tried to say something, anything that would fix things.

"Connor. It's not what it looks like. Please... please don't hate me."

The ginger wiped his palm across his forehead, walked over to my bed, and sat down. I turned around to look at him, but didn't rise from my kneeling position. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I knew he hated me now. He had to. He saw me as a freak, a bug. I deserved it.

Connor sat wide, his hands on his thighs. I wished I could read his mind. He kinda shook his head a little and let out a little exhale before speaking.

"Man... Lance... I don't know what to say. Can you just tell me what you're doing? Just be honest."

I could tell I was about to cry. I was completely overwhelmed, this was simply too much! I had no idea how to deal with it. My voice was shaky and slight as I responded.

"I don't know how. I just. I just wanted to see how it smelled. I am so sorry. I'm fucking..."

I started to cry, I felt like I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. I wasn't sobbing, I was crying pretty quietly, but it was still obvious. Connor frowned and blinked several times, real quick. I thought of a camera shutter.

"Um. Well. This makes me feel really bad, to have you crying on the floor in front of me. I feel like an asshole. Can you come up here?"

I listened to him, sitting as far from him on the bed as I possibly could, trying to dry my face the whole time, but new tears kept welling out. Connor scooted closer to me. He put his arm around me. It was hot against my neck; both of us were still shirtless and I could feel his armpit hair scratching my skin. We just sat like that for a while till I stopped crying. It felt good, but I also was very apprehensive about what he was gonna say, or do, next. Finally, I decided to say something.

"I'm really sorry for doing that without your permission, Connor."

He kinda patted me on the shoulder.

"Thanks for apologizing."

"Do you think I'm a freak?"

I asked, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.

"Nah."

Connor replied. Then he took his arm away and turned on the bed to face me.

"So... are you into feet?"

I just shrugged.

"I don't know. I've never thought about it before. I just noticed yours when we were jerking off and I got curious. I'm sorry."

"It's cool. So I'm special, huh?"

He grinned, with levity. I really appreciated what he was doing.

"I guess so. That's the first time I've ever wanted to, uh... sniff... well. You know. "

"You wanna?"

He asked me. I didn't understand.

"Huh?"

I asked. He clarified, saying,

"Want to sniff my shoes?"

He reached across the floor and grabbed one of them, holding it out to me. My body began to vibrate.

"Oh, uh..."

I wasn't sure if it was a good idea. How would this make Connor view me?

"It's alright, man. You can."

I wanted to, real bad. I was already hard again in my jeans. I leaned forward and sniffed the black inside of his shoe. That light, but dank sort of scent pervaded my senses. It was incredible. My dick began to leak. It smelled like... I don't know. Masculinity? Strength? Confidence? He pulled the shoe away.

"You like it?"

He asked. I nodded through a narcotic haze. I wanted to masturbate again, already.

"What's it smell like?"

"Uh... I don't... it smells like you."

He chuckled.

"Duh. Want this?"

He shoved his socked foot into my face. I was shocked. Was this really happening? How was he not disgusted by me? I pushed my face closer to his foot. I could smell that same scent, but lighter; the fact that it was coming from his body this time made it even more erotic, however. I could see little tufts of lint on the bottom of his sock. He pushed his foot right into my face, burying my nose between his toes. My dick strained in my boxers. It ached in pain as my arousal surpassed its size.

Being underneath someone's foot (well, kind of), pressed up against it, feeling the heat radiating off of their sole, smelling their scent... well, was incredible. Transcendent, yet at the same time made me feel dominated, degraded. It surely was not something a masculine male would ever do. A real man would never get underneath another man's foot, smell his stench. Fuck, I was such a little pervert!

"This is kinda nice. You look cute down there."

I heard Connor say. Was I in a dream? His was this man so perfect?! He took his foot away.

"You like that?"

I nodded, and he laughed.

"What?"

I asked.

"Nothing," he chuckled, "it's just that I've never seen anyone nod so fast!"

I blushed. Man, I was so embarrassing.

"Do you want to see my foot?"

Asked Connor. I gulped. This was getting really serious. I nodded again, trying to slow down.

"Alright man. But first I gotta pee."

"Me too."

I said. Connor's eyes lit up, and he replied with,

"Hey, I got an idea..."

He told me to follow him to the bathroom. His butt was just as attractive in jeans. I watched him undo his belt buckle and unbuttonand unzip himself, smirking at me like the little demon emoji. He pulled his soft cock out.

"Come on bro," he said to me, "pee."

I took my dick out and started to pee, he did the same, creating a little "x" with our piss streams. It reminded me of something I'd done with Michael a long time ago. It didn't even feel gay somehow. I looked up at his little pink cheeks and decided I loved him. I wondered how he felt about me. I wished I was brave enough to ask, but I knew that even if I was, it was never a good idea to ask something like that unless you enjoyed having your feelings hurt.

While he peed, his face was twisted into a little expression that sort of made it look like he was having an orgasm; lips parted slightly, brow furrowed as he forced the last little bit of pee out and began to shake his dick to make sure he wouldn't stain his boxers. He looked down at me from his slight height vantage point and smiled, kindly. I felt like a stupid kid as I kept urinating and he watched me; like I was with my older brother and he was making sure I didn't get piss on the toilet seat. Of course, it was my own toilet, and Connor was not any older than me; we were the exact same age. Yes, he was two months older than me, but we were the same age. He just seemed older because he possessed confidence and I didn't.

After we'd finished our little game, we went back into my bedroom. We sat next to one another on the bed. Connor gave me a little smirk and pulled his socks off. I was instantly rock hard. This was crazy! I'd never realized before how turned on I was by feet; how, exactly, did one find this out for the first time at 22 years old? I started to reach for his feet, but Connor pushed me back and wagged his finger at me.

"Uh-uh. Lay down on the floor."

I was shocked by his tone, which reminded me quite a bit of Mike's cocky attitude when he dominated me. I guess Connor read the surprise on my face, because he turned red all over his face, even down his neck, and followed it up with,

"Please. If you don't mind, man."

I lay down on the ground in front of my bed, with Connor towering above me. I could see up his nose if I'd wanted to. I didn't particularly want to, though. He kept his feet raised well above me, teasing me.

"Just stretch out and wait... stretch out and wait."

He said, more to himself than me, in a little sing-song voice. I wanted his feet in my face really badly. I was also a bit scared that he might stop liking me so much, stop being so sweet, and start to treat me just like every other guy in my life. Would this make him no longer respect me? It was hard to imagine you could still respect somebody after having them under your feet, that was sort of the ultimate symbol of disrespect, of power and control and humiliation. I suppose that's why I wanted it so badly. But not from Connor!

I sat up and pushed his feet away, pushing myself backwards. He was nonplussed.

"What's up?"

He asked.

"I can't."

"What? Why? I thought you liked it."

"I do, man. I do. I just... I don't want it from you. Not you."

I could see, right away, how much I'd hurt him; it was scrawled all across his face, which hurt me just as bad. I stammered, frantically trying to erase what i'd just done.

"Not like that! I didn't mean it like that. I do want you to put your feet in my face, a lot actually. A lot. But I am really scared, because you're so nice, you are so sweet to me, and... I don't want that to end, because I like you. What if you start to see me as... I don't know. I'm not good at explaining myself, Connor, I wish I could just hook my brain up to yours with wires so you could get what I'm trying to say. If you see me under your feet, you might think of me differently. Worse. That's all."

Connor shook his head.

"You know, Lance," he said, "You sure are a lot to deal with. You're very emotional."

I felt ill. I felt very dark inside, worse than I'd felt since high school.

"Oh, wait, Lance..."

Connor got down on the floor, crouching on his knees in front of me. He sounded really sorry. He touched my forehead with the back of his hand, as if to make sure I didn't have a fever. I honestly felt like I just might.

"Lance, wait a minute. I did not mean it how it sounded. You turned straight up white, holy shit."

Surprisingly, I didn't feel like crying. I actually felt nothing. This was worse than being left because someone no longer respected me: being left because of who I was as a person. My mind immediately veered away from something, avoiding whatever the next logical chain in the thought process had been; there was something locked away, impossible to see. Contemplation proscribed.

"Bro, listen. If you know how you felt when you tried, just two seconds ago, to say sorry for accidentally hurting my feelings, then please try to understand that I didn't mean it like that. I was not saying it like... I didn't mean I don't want to deal with you! I meant to say it in an endearing tone. Maybe I didn't sound right."

Connor hugged me. I could feel his arms cross on my back, his chest press into me, his cheek on my ear. I could feel his heartbeat in all of those locations, thumping quickly.

"It's okay."

I whispered. My body unlocked. He was right, if I could say the wrong thing, why couldn't he? Clearly, Connor cared about me, despite not having met me more than 24 hours ago. That was a bit strange, but... I suppose not really; I'd obviously met him at the same time and I probably liked him even more than he liked me. I liked to think he liked me just as much as I liked him, but of course it was impossible to know such a thing. I fall for guys hard and fast, which is probably really bad.

Connor let go of me, holding my shoulders and looking into my eyes. His eyes were so light, like a pale blue seashell.

"You good?"

He asked me. I nodded. I felt ashamed of my outburst. I also really wanted to smell his foot still, so this entire thing had been pointless. Obviously, though, I did not tell him that. He seemed to understand me anyway.

"You know that wouldn't make me think of you any differently, right? I actually thought the whole thing was kinda funny and interesting. I wasn't thinking about it like... domination."

"So if I'd never said that you wouldn't have ever thought about it that way?"

"Well, probably not."

He replied. That made me feel even more like an idiot. The entire situation could have been avoided AND I could have gotten what I wanted. Seriously, how dumb was I? I looked at his feet. He had little orange hairs on them.

"What size do you wear?"

I asked.

"10."

"Your feet are bigger than mine. I'm 9."

"I'm taller than you, dummy."

He kissed me, but it wasn't sexual. He kept his lips closed.

---

He pushed his fingers through my lips and into my mouth. They felt rough as they slid across my tongue. It almost felt romantic. He jammed his fingers down towards my throat and I gagged; he didn't stop. He kept going, ramming his fingers down my throat repeatedly, making me writhe. I grabbed his arm, trying to pull his hand out; he slapped the side of my head and I stopped. Forcefully, he shoved a third finger down my throat, several times, until I threw up, at which point he finally removed his his hand from my mouth. I slapped both of my hands onto the dirt and my body shuddered involuntarily. I looked up at him, begging for mercy with my eyes, and found none.

"Please, Westley... er, West..."

I hoped adding the diminutive would help. The blonde redneck just grinned at me, real evil like. I grimaced.

"Come on, Lance. I like it when you suffer. You know you do too. Or you wouldn't look like THIS."

He shoved a boot into the erection poking upwards in my sweatpants. I groaned as he tapped my nuts.

"Just don't be too cruel. Please, man. I can only take so much."

The boy sniggered.

"That ain't my problem."

He said. My nostrils flared. What was I getting myself into? He kicked me in the nuts again, I doubled over in pain; he dragged me up into a standing position and held me there until I stood.

"Don't hurt me, please!"

I begged. I felt like I was about to cry. Not from pain, but from fear. The smirk dropped from his face.

"Hey, bro... come on now! You're acting like I'm gonna beat you up! I'm just trying to have fun. I thought you liked it that way. Are you really scared of me? You think I'm really gonna HURT you?"

I didn't quite know what I thought. On one hand, he seemed extremely unpredictable. On the other hand, though, he always pulled back if he thought I was serious.

"Look, man. Trust me. I ain't gonna hurt you. I want to have fun and I want you to have fun. You really don't wanna do something just tell me and I'll stop. And I'll ask first. Deal?"

He held out his hand. I tried to shake it, but he slapped my hand. We did a little high five thingy.

"Can I spit in your face, you... gay guy? Er, homo. Lance, what the fuck ever. Can I do it?"

He sounded exasperated, and torn between niceness and cruelty. It made me really horny. I nodded. Without warning, a huge glob of saliva slammed into my forehead and ran down my eyelid; I frantically shut one eye as it continued to roll down my face, onto my cheek, dripping off my chin. West reached a hand into his jeans. He spat in my face again, it got on my forehead.

"Fuck yeah. You're such a little faggot. I could tell you liked being humiliated that first day I met you. You were so shy. I like that."

I wanted to ask why he enjoyed degrading guys. I wondered if it was because he hated himself for his sexuality or something else entirely, but I rather doubted he even had the awareness to know.

"You like being treated like shit by a real man, don't you?"

He asked me, pulling his cock in his pants. I nodded. It was true. I loved it. And I felt so bad about it. What about Connor? He really liked me. I guess he knew a little bit about my secret desires because of the fiasco with his feet earlier that week, but he didn't know the true extent. And he SURE didn't know I was getting throat fucked and treated like garbage by some redneck stud right now.

"Don't you?"

Westley repeated.

"Yes. I like being treated like shit by you. You're so... powerful. You're so confident, and so cocky. It makes me feel like a loser. It makes me feel like nothing. And that makes me horny."

"Cause you're a faggot."

I swallowed. I didn't want to say that. It was probably too close to the truth. When he called me slurs it really turned me on, but admitting that it I enjoyed being treated like shit by straight men because I felt bad about gay was just... too much.

"Cause you're gay, right?"

West repeated. He clearly wanted me to agree.

"What do you mean?"

I asked. He looked perplexed.

"Gay guys enjoy being treated like shit by straight guys, right? That's why you guys would let us do it back in school."

I couldn't tell if he was serious.

"Why do you get horny when you degrade gay guys?"

I asked. West turned red. I actually thought he was about to cry. I stammered.

"Umm... want me to suck you off?"

West held his palm up like he was about to slap me. Then he slammed his hand against his truck instead, shouting 'God!' as he did so, and he walked away and sat down on a nearby rock. I contemplated leaving. It was probably a real bad idea to stick around. West might get even more pissed off and decide to beat me up after all. But I also felt really guilty. I had known I was provocating him. I approached him slowly, making damn sure he saw me coming.

"Hey, West. Bro. I'm sorry. That's my bad. I was just trying to piss you off, I don't even really remember what I said."

I hoped he would fall for it. It obviously wasn't true, but if he decided to believe it was true then it could be.

"Wanna cigarette?"

I asked. He held out his hand, silently, and I put a cigarette in his palm. My fingers were shaking.

"Damn, you really think I'm gonna beat you up, huh?"

West asked.

"Huh?"

I questioned, my voice cracking. He pointed to my hand. I hid it behind my back. He didn't seem amused.

"I don't think that."

I said. I hoped it was what he wanted to hear. Maybe he wanted me to be more scared of him. I didn't think so, though. After a long silence, the cigarette almost burned down, Westley spoke again.

"Please don't ask me about that again. I don't want to talk about it. Okay?"

I nodded, saying,

"I won't. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. Hey, I gotta go though. But I'll hit you up. Let me piss on you next time, yeah?"

I agreed. As I watched Westley's black truck drive down the road I wondered if I'd ever really see him again. He had seemed pretty upset. Maybe he'd want to avoid whatever it was I'd brought up. I felt really sad. I wanted to call Mike. He was the one person who had always been there for me, and now I was pretty much alone. I mean, not really, I had Mitch and Connor, but nobody could replace Michael. He'd been there for me basically my whole life. I just wanted to hug him. I loved Michael. I just wanted to be with him.

I dialed Mike's number, every ring slashing like a knife as he failed to answer. I sighed, my breath shaky. I just wanted to feel like someone cared about me, actually liked me. I saw Connor's number in my phone. I wanted to call him, I really did, but I just couldn't make myself. I felt so incredibly GUILTY for what I'd just done with West. It's not like Connor and I were in a relationship, but for all the world it still felt like cheating. I called Mitch. He answered on the second ring.

"Sup?"

He greeted me, in that deep, bassy voice of his. I was all choked up. I didn't know why I was so upset.

"Can I please come over?"

I asked, continuing, "I'm not feeling too good."

"Course."

Mitch reassured me. I sped all the way to his apartment. He could tell I was upset when he answered the door and asked me what was wrong, but I couldn't explain because I didn't understand it myself, I just knew that I was getting myself into a mess, and he was part of it. Everything was so damn complicated now. The camping trip, tinged with melancholic nostalgia, seemed so simple in comparison.

Mitch and I just sat and watched TV. My eyes began to wander. Over his muscled body, the sculpting still apparent underneath his shirt. Around the room. I noticed little things, things I hadn't paid attention to before. The decor wasn't exactly masculine. For one thing, there were cute little white and gold tables with floral designs, a print of a ballerina on the wall. Cut flowers in a vase on the dining room table. The fact there was even a dining room table or end tables for the couch in the first place.

"Do you live with your girlfriend?"

I asked, breaking the silence. Mitch just nodded.

"Isn't that kind of quick?"

Mitch looked confused.

"Quick?"

He asked.

"Yeah, " I replied, "you guys just met and you're already moving in together?"

"Just met?"

Mitch seemed genuinely perplexed; suddenly, it dawned on me.

"You guys were already together... you were together the very first time we did stuff. Weren't you?"

Mitch's entire face turned a deep shade is red, confirming the answer to my question. I stood up. I had to get out of there. I didn't know where I was gonna go, but I knew I had to leave. Mitch tried to stop me.

"Hey, wait! I'm sorry, I should have told you, I'm sorry."

I ignored him, opening the door.

"Lance! I'm sorry! Please don't hate me."

I felt bad. I didn't want to make Mitch feel bad, even if he HAD hurt me. I turned my head back, telling him,

"I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all."

I left, but as I walked down the stairs Mitch trailed behind me, saying 'hey!'. When we got to my car, he placed his hand on my door, stopping me from opening it and getting inside.

"What, Mitch? What do you want?"

"Lance... are you angry at me?"

"Yeah," I admitted, "I am. That doesn't mean I hate you."

"But does that mean you're done with me?"

Mitch pled.

"Does that mean you'll never talk to me again? I'm SORRY!"

He stressed the last word with a little stomp. He looked like a little kid protesting a punishment from their mom. I felt sympathy for him, and attraction. I was still upset, though.

"Lance. I am SORRY. I am."

He touched the side of my face gently. I melted in his hands like ice cream on the side of the road.

"Mitch, I never said I hated you or that I'd never speak to you again. Of course I will. But I want to home right now, that's all. Okay?"

Mitch was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring wildly.

"But do you still... do you still like me? At all?"

He sounded so sad and pathetic. He sounded like me. I wanted to kiss him, but I knew that even if we weren't outside, where people could see us, that he might not have appreciated that.

"I like you a lot."

I told him.

"Still?"

He asked me.

"Still."

I confirmed. He smiled and looked around real fast, then kissed me quickly on the cheek.

"You're really... I... I guess..."

I had no clue what Mitch was trying to say, but I knew how I felt about him.

"I love you."

I said, and got in the car. I looked up at him, his arm supporting him, as he leaned against my sedan. He was smiling real broadly.

"You too."

He replied. I didn't know if he couldn't or just didn't want to say those three words back to me, but from the huge grin on his face as I drove off I could tell he felt something at least approximating that.

I turned the radio up as I rolled home, much more slowly than I'd driven over to Mitch's. It was golden hour, and the hazy sepia light dripped across the road and the buildings that dotted both sides. I saw a familiar maroon van in the very McDonald's parking lot I'd met up with Mitch at earlier that week and pulled in. From my car, I spied Tanner and Bill sitting at one of the tables inside the building. I was wondering if I should go in and say hello when Tanner noticed me and waved vigorously, pointing to me, and pushing on his friend's shoulder, who then waved as well, when he finally saw me. I got out of the car.

TW: Raunch, farting. Everyone in his story is 18+ [in fact, both men are 28].

​

Theo was having a long, hard day at work. Emphasis on 'was' because the work day was now over, but before the brown, curly headed dude went home, he made his usual pit stop. In the usual sense of the word: He had to take a piss. Theo always peed at the office bathroom before leaving for home, partly because he had a small bladder and couldn't hold it for very long, and partly because the office bathrooms were really nice. No sticky tiles or faucets that went off every 30 seconds– the Panopticon Inc. bathrooms were the real deal.

​

Theo walked in and looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He thought he looked extra handsome today because he had tried a new kind of hair style; he let himself grow a 5 o'clock shadow, with little sideburns. He thought it made him look a little more masculine, something that seemed difficult to catch ahold of at times, for him, as a short gay man, although he was not effeminate. It was more like he didn't always understand what masculinity meant for straight men, but he assumed that went both ways. He walked on over to the urinal, unzipped, and... was about to pee when he heard someone else come in.

​

"Oh great," he thought to himself, "just what I needed!"

​

Theo had stage fright, he found it difficult to pee when there was someone else around. Shy bladder. He didn't like to flex and force himself to pee, since it was bad for you. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw exactly who it was as they violated the cardinal rule of the men's restroom and walked right up to the urinal directly next to his– it was Aaron. He could tell, even without looking directly at the guy, because Aaron was tall as hell, over 6 feet, with really light blonde hair. He studied the grey tile wall in front of him as he pretended to urinate. He heard Aaron unzip, and vaguely saw the guy's belt buckle hit the side of the urinal with a clang. He felt rather annoyed, especially once the guy started whistling loudly as he pissed.

​

"Sup?"

​

Aaron said. Theo sighed internally, then looked over at the blonde man with a smile and a nod. He hated how attractive he found Aaron. The guy was nice, but also cocky, in the way that straight men can sometimes be. And since he was a genuinely nice person, Theo couldn't even find a real reason to dislike him other than being slightly annoying and the simple fact that he was heterosexual, which felt kinda wrong.

​

"Theo, right?"

​

Asked Aaron.

​

"Yeah... and you're Aaron?"

​

Theo felt uncomfortable talking to Aaron while his dick was out, and while the other guy was in the same position. It felt like a volatile situation, a recipe for disaster. He looked away quickly. Man, Aaron was so attractive to him. The guy was very tall, blonde, blue eyes, red cheeks, and a wide, straight smile. Sort of a homegrown model type. Aaron went back to whistling. It kind of astounded Theo that the guy was managing to piss for this long, and still going strong. It sounded like a fucking waterfall. After at least another full minute, Theo gave up. If he couldn't make it home, he could always stop at a gas station on the way there. He flushed the urinal and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. Had to keep up appearances.

​

Aaron followed momentarily. Damn. Theo knew he couldn't go back and pee now, it would be very strange. He accidentally caught Aaron's eye in the mirror, which made him feel awkward. He finished washing his hands and walked over to get paper towels. Aaron followed him there, too.

​

"Er... what's up?"

​

Theo asked Aaron. Aaron smiled. It was kind of odd.

​

"Hey, Theo. You're gay, right?"

​

Theo froze. Immediately, he felt threatened, despite there being no malice or cruelty whatsoever in Aaron's voice. For one thing, Theo was already short for a guy, only 5'4", and so the height difference was pretty massive. For another, Theo was not actually out of the closet at work. He had never told a single one of his coworkers that he was gay. He was out in his real life, but work was another matter; things were just easier if he didn't tell anyone. He wondered if Aaron was guessing, and if so, why.

​

"Huh? Why would you ask me that?"

​

Theo replied, evasively. Aaron blinked those long, blonde eyelashes of his. He almost looked innocent.

​

"Just... you're gay, right?"

​

He insisted. Theo didn't know what to say, really. Any answer that wasn't a lie would give him away.

​

"Uh... why?"

​

Aaron sighed, frustrated. He leaned against the wall with one hand, totally dwarfing Theo. Theo gulped, nervously.

​

"Man, just tell me. Are you or aren't you?"

​

Theo didn't want to lie. Simply not telling people was one thing, but straight up lying was another. He decided to bite the bullet.

​

"Yeah... but why, Aaron?"

​

"Uh... well, I wanted to ask if I could do something. You're the only guy I could probably ever ask."

​

"Because I'm gay?"

​

Theo felt himself get excited in spite of himself. Was this the scenario of his dreams? Would Aaron ask him to suck his dick? They were probably alone in the office right now. It seemed like something straight out of a porno!

​

"Well... yeah. I don't really know anyone who would let me. I'm scared to ask. Honestly, I'm kinda scared to ask you too."

​

Theo looked deep into Aaron's blue eyes, at his naturally red cheeks. Was he imagining it or were they redder than usual? He was searching for signs that the man was about to ask him to give him a blow job.

​

"You can ask me, Aaron. Don't be scared."

​

Theo replied. Aaron chuckled nervously.

​

"Uh, well, you see... it's just... it's something I've always wanted to do. But I just can't ask anyone. You're the only guy I know who I might be able to ask. You've just always been so nice to me and. I don't know. I just don't feel as scared asking you. Especially since you're gay."

​

Theo tried to give a winning smile. The other guy laughed nervously yet again, turning deeper red, this time for certain.

​

"I just have to do it. I can't go the rest of my life and not ever act out my fantasy. I have to, man! You understand."

​

Theo shook his head yes. He couldn't believe it! He was gonna get to hook up with the hottest guy in the entire office, it was a dream come true.

​

"Just ask me, bro."

​

"Alright, uh..."

​

Aaron blew air out of his mouth obviously working up the courage to say what he wanted to say. Theo's heart was racing. Aaron continued,

​

"Can I, uh... can I fart on your face? Uh, please. Theo."

​

The smile on Theo's face slowly dripped away like a melting candle and his heart sank at the same rate. He was convinced he'd misheard Aaron. There was no way he could have possibly said what Theo thought he had said. He asked for clarification.

​

"Fart on me?"

​

"Uh, yeah man. On your face to be specific."

​

Theo felt like a kid who is told by his parents in the months leading up to Christmas that they're getting him the game system he wants, only for them to forget, and he ends up unwrapping socks on Christmas morning. And, clearly, that disappointment was written all over his face. Aaron began to stutter.

​

"Um... look, sorry. Theo, I just. I have to try at least once... ah, nevermind, sorry. Sorry, man, sorry. Please, sorry."

​

His face was dark red now. Theo could literally see the man's hands shaking as he shoved them into his pockets, self-consciously, and turned to walk away. Theo felt guilty. He'd not just hurt his feelings, he'd made the guy feel bad about his sexual inclinations, and Theo knew exactly what that was like. Aaron couldn't help his fetishes. Theo at least wanted to apologize.

​

"Wait! Aaron, wait."

​

Aaron turned around, face still red as a plum. Theo could see the guy's nostrils flaring as he breathed fast. Theo only felt even worse. He tried to say sorry.

​

"I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm sorry. I'm not judging you man, I'm just a little confused. Why did you ask if I was gay first?"

​

"Oh, uh... well, I didn't think a straight guy would let me do that."

​

"But a gay guy would?"

​

"I dunno."

​

Aaron shrugged his shoulders before continuing,

​

"But a straight guy would say it's gay so he's not gonna do it. Maybe gay guys like that? It's unfortunate, really. A straight guy would fit the fantasy. That's what I really want."

​

Aaron looked at his shoes. Theo was intrigued in spite of himself. He had to know what the fantasy was, at least.

​

"So what exactly does this fantasy involve?"

​

Aaron's face lit up. He smiled real wide, which made his ears jump up. Theo felt a lot better.

​

"It's something I've imagined as far back as I can remember dude, at least since I could get a boner. I imagine this all the time, even though I've never been able to do it. That I see a really hot chick, like just hot as hell, huge tits, but she's got a boyfriend, right? So I go over there and I humiliate him so badly that she'll realize what a loser he is and go home with the alpha, me."

​

Aaron pointed to his chest with his thumb as he said this, then kept talking,

​

"Sometimes it involves me doing stuff like beating them up, dumping a drink on their head, or pissing on them. But it ALWAYS involves me farting in their face. That's what gets me going the most. Not very realistic, I know, but it's been my biggest fantasy since I was like 12, dude."

​

Aaron grinned sheepishly and scratched the side of his head. Theo was still curious. He wanted to know more about Aaron's strange kink.

​

"Why farting? Do you know?"

​

Aaron smiled again. He looked so happy to be able to finally talk about this with someone, to feel at least somewhat accepted for something that, Theo imagined, he had probably had to hide all his life and feel great shame for. Theo felt good about himself that he was helping someone. He was glad he was able to help Aaron feel good about himself, it made him feel like he was doing something right.

​

"Yeah man, I think it's cause that's, like, the most humiliating, degrading thing you can think of. Like, no girl would ever be able to look at her man the same way after seeing another guy fart in his face. He'd just be a total loser to her, from then on. And I'd be the ultimate alpha, and totally virile, for having enacted the most extreme humiliation on the guy. She'd see me as a god or some shit."

​

Aaron smiled proudly. He now looked so confident, a total 180 from just a few minutes before. Theo smiled back. He felt really good. He'd done a good deed.

​

"So you gonna let me?"

​

Aaron asked eagerly. Theo's heart sunk again. He realized that, this entire time, Aaron had been under the impression that Theo was asking because he was interested. If he said no, he would absolutely crush Aaron. But he simply couldn't do it. Aaron was right, it would be completely humiliating. Aaron would lose all respect for him. Theo hesitated, trying to think of a nice way to say no. Aaron picked up on this.

​

"Aw, come on man! It would really mean a lot! You have no idea how BAD I've wanted to do this my entire life. Even just being able to talk to you about it made me feel good about myself, cause... well, you didn't laugh at me. That's the first time I've ever told anyone."

​

Aaron blinked several times, very fast and cleared this throat, and Theo realized that the guy might be on the verge of crying! Which only made sense to Theo, after all, imagine how you'd feel finally unloading a secret to someone that you'd felt so guilty about your entire life, terrified of rejection, and they don't laugh or make fun of you, but accept you. Theo almost wanted to cry himself.

​

And he realized that Aaron had accepted him even more easily than he'd accepted Aaron. Aaron had just asked if he was gay as a matter of fact and moved along. It had already been known and accepted. Implicitly accepted. Theo had been scared at the thought of his coworkers finding out about his sexuality, and yet Aaron had accepted it so easily. In fact, he's somehow already known, and had treated him kindly regardless. Theo felt guilty as sin. He almost felt like he couldn't say no. He wanted to hug Aaron.

​

"Thank you for accepting me as well, Aaron. I don't judge you at all."

​

"That means a lot, bro. You're the best. But please. Please. You don't know what it wouldn't mean to me. I'm never, ever gonna get the chance to try this again. You've gotta help me out bro, please."

​

Aaron was almost whispering, urgently. Theo had no idea what to do. He didn't want to get farted on, but he just felt like couldn't deny Aaron what he wanted. It was clear how much this meant to the guy, and it went beyond simply getting off. Aaron stepped forward and put a hand on Theo's shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes, and said,

​

"Man, listen, I will do anything you want. Anything, if you just say yes. Please."

​

The desperation was palpable on Aaron's face, and made him look incredibly cute. Theo noticed just how full the guy's lips were for the first time.

​

"Okay. Okay."

​

Theo said. Aaron pumped his fist in the air, saying 'yessss!' which almost made Theo want to say no again. But he didn't. He had to admit that making Aaron happy was making him feel very good about himself. Not just that he was a good person, but also that he could help someone as handsome and cool as Aaron feel good and fulfill their lifelong fantasy. And, perhaps, afterward, Aaron would help him fulfill his own fantasy. He had said 'anything you want', hadn't he? Theo sure hoped he'd really meant it.

​

Theo nodded, meekly, his eyes looking like big, brown saucers. Aaron put his hand on Theo's shoulder and started to push him down, but Theo stopped the lanky man.

​

"Wait– not out here."

​

"There's no one here."

​

Aaron replied. Theo jerked his thumb over to the stalls and started to walk in the same direction.

​

"In here."

​

He clarified. Aaron followed him. The boys went into the stall together; Aaron shut and locked the door behind him, turning to look at Theo hungrily. In fact, Theo found himself quite aroused simply by being in such close quarters with the strikingly attractive blonde. He only wished he was about to suck the guy's cock or get fucked instead. Or maybe even get his own dick sucked. Aaron reached out and ran a large hand through Theo's brown, curly hair. He smiled at the boy, tenderly. Theo felt his face get hot. The whole thing felt so romantic. He wondered if Aaron would stop him if he tried to kiss him. He traced the tall man's round lips, imagining his own lips against them. He wondered if they were smooth or rough. He noticed a little fleck of hazel in Aaron's right eye, like a drop of brown paint on a canvas painting of a deep blue sea, the white lines on the blonde boy's iris looking the wave crests breaking all around an island in the center– the pupil.

​

"I wasn't to fart on you so bad, dude."

​

Theo was smacked in the face with reality. He wasn't in that bathroom stall with the handsome guy to kiss him or to fantasize about him. He was there to get farted on. He felt dirty already. But looking at the excited expression in Aaron's face, Theo simply couldn't say no; he just couldn't let the guy down. He wanted to make him happy.

​

"Sit down, man"

​

Aaron told Theo, an excited edge in his voice. Theo sat down on the toilet– and was immediately met by a huge bulge in the jeans in front of his face. Aaron blushed when he realized what was going on, apologizing.

​

"Er... fuck, I'm sorry. So sorry, bro."

​

'That's what you're apologizing for?'

​

Theo wondered, but all he said was,

​

"It's no problem at all."

​

Aaron was breathing hard, his enthusiasm written all over his face, and in his jumpy movements.

​

"Okay."

​

He said, grinning, and turned around so that his butt was facing Theo's face.

​

"You ready?"

​

Aaron asked the shorter dude, turning his head to look back at him.

​

"Sure."

​

Theo gave Aaron a thumbs up. Aaron turned away again. His stomach was in knots. He didn't really want to do this, but he figured it was worth it to help Aaron out, to make him feel accepted and not judged, and fulfill the fantasy he'd always dreamed about. And, of course, it didn't hurt that maybe he'd give Theo what he wanted as well.

​

For what seemed like ages, nothing happened. It was totally silent, but for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above the two men. Theo had nothing to do but study the yellow stitching on the back pockets of his buddy's jeans, counting each one. Not that he didn't notice how nice the guy's butt was as well. Then, Aaron let out a little grunt, a sort of 'mmmm', and a deep fart rumbled right front of Theo's face. The smell took a second to hit, but when it did Theo made a similar sound, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose up. Jesus, it fucking stunk!

​

"What the fuck did you eat?"

​

Theo blurted out. Aaron snickered. He'd turned to face Theo now, and the look on his face could only be described by the smaller guy as lustful.

​

"Smells bad, huh? You like that?"

​

"Not really."

​

Complained Theo, which seemed to make Aaron more eager than ever. He pushed his hand into his jeans and started to jerk himself off, which caused Theo to tent up sweatpants.

​

"Eh... you seem to like it."

​

Chuckled Aaron. Theo didn't say anything. He wanted to touch himself, but was rather scared. He decided to ask.

​

"Can I touch myself?"

​

"Sure. Just don't take it out, please."

​

Replied Aaron.

​

'God, he's so nice.'

​

Thought Theo, reaching into his pants to pull on his own dick. He tried to tell himself that it was only the fact Aaron had an erection that was turning him on, but he was starting to feel like there was more to it than just that.

​

Aaron turned around, this time shoving his jeans right into Theo's face so that Theo's nose was in his butt crack, right in between Aaron's butt cheeks. He could feel the warmth radiating off of the man's ass. He heard a voice from above him ask,

​

"This okay?"

​

Theo tried to say yes, but it sounded more like 'mmph', which made Aaron snigger. Theo tried to breath in small, little shallow breaths, each one feeling humid pressed into the blonde guy's butt. The man let out a groan,

​

"Aww!"

​

And cut off another fart, one that vibrated into Theo's skull with a long, drawn out staccato, sounding like a car motor trying to start. The smell was rank, and pervaded all of the smaller dude's senses, shooting directly into his nostrils. He felt completely and utterly humiliated, degraded. He felt like he had back in school when he'd been bullied by guys who were much bigger, stronger, more dominant and confident than he was; and that turned him on. He felt like something was waking up in him, reminding him of who he was.

​

The cloud of stench remained around Theo's head as Aaron pulled away, his eyes were vacant and glassy. It was like he was intoxicated with the smell of Aaron's farts. Aaron no longer looked happy, he looked incredibly horny. He had a determined look on his face as he jerked off inside his pants, his brow furrowed, his mouth slightly agape.

​

"Aw man, you look totally wrecked. I'm really doing a number on you, huh?"

​

Aaron asked. Theo looked up at Aaron. Aaron was so fucking attractive, so masculine and dominating. Theo wanted to be underneath his ass again already, he wanted to be degraded and used.

​

"Do it again. Fart in my face bro, please."

​

Theo said, his voice deep and strained. Aaron's mouth split open into the biggest grin Theo had ever seen. The guy's eyebrows raised and his eyes lit up.

​

"You like it, huh?"

​

Theo nodded, desperately. He didn't have to ask twice, Aaron grabbed Theo's brown hair as he turned around, and shoved Theo's face, roughly, into the seat of his pants.

​

"Then you're gonna love this!"

​

Aaron crowed cockily, and he released a long, booming fart, that hit Theo's forehead forcefully. The smell was even worse this time, making Theo cough, which caused Aaron to laugh.

​

"Oh man, you're really suffering down there!"

​

Theo had to agree, he sure was suffering, but for some reason he liked it. Aaron farted again, a loud growl that reverberated off the bathroom walls and made Theo's eyes water.

​

Aaron farted several more times, each worse than the last, until finally he couldn't fart anymore. Theo had to wonder what the man had eaten for lunch that he'd even managed to fart so much in the first place. When he was done, Aaron got down on his knees so that he was level with Theo, and looked him in the eyes. He hadn't cum but he'd quit jerking himself off; he still had an obscene bulge in his jeans though.

​

"Hey man, thank you. You have no idea how happy you made me. I've been thinking about that for a long time now. You just made me the happiest guy in the world, bro. Thank you!"

​

Theo smiled. He felt so good about himself that he'd made Aaron so damn happy, although he was confused about some things himself now. What did it mean that he'd been so aroused by the other guy farting in his face? Aaron stood up and turned, unlocking the bathroom stall.

​

"Ah, wait!" Called out Theo, "You said I could have whatever I wanted if I did this, right? If I let you fart on me?"

​

"Oh yeah, I did say that, didn't I?"

​

Aaron laughed a small laugh before continuing,

​

"Well what do you want? I'd give you just about anything right now after what you just did for me. You're fucking awesome."

​

It felt good being praised by someone as handsome and self-assured as Aaron, for Theo. It made him feel bolder, better about himself. It made him happy.

​

"Well... maybe I could suck your dick?"

​

Theo asked. Aaron stuck his hands in his jeans pockets, making a face.

​

"I mean... I just farted on your face. I don't really want your lips on my dick right now, bro."

​

Theo's face fell. He was crushed. He felt far more humiliated than he had earlier. He now understood what Aaron had meant by his fantasy, the whole story of a woman being so disgusted by the guy who'd just gotten farted on that she'd go home with Aaron, the alpha who had just debased her man. Theo felt disgusting. Like a piece of garbage that deserved nothing but farts.

​

"Hey man, relax. Don't look so sad. I didn't say never. I told you I'd do whatever you asked of me and I will. Just not right now. I'm not gonna lie, it'd be great to have my dick sucked right now, you just made me so fucking horny. So horny. I mean, I'd rather have a girl suck it, I'm not gay. I could close my eyes though. But, uh... I dunno, couldn't I get pink eye on my dick or something? That's probably not good, bro."

​

Theo nodded, sadly. He understood. He wondered if Aaron would really hold up his end of the bargain. After all, he wasn't gay. Theo had known the guy was straight this whole time. He felt a little like he'd been used. Just farted on and then discarded.

​

"Don't worry. I will do whatever you say, Theo. Tomorrow, your word is my command. You're basically my master. For one day, anyway. Cause I think we both know who the real master is."

​

Aaron grinned and ran his fingers through Theo's hair, fixing it. Theo felt so small in front of Aaron. He felt humiliated and cared about all at once. He loved it when Aaron touched him. He liked Aaron a lot. Aaron patted Theo's cheek twice and then left. Theo heard Aaron's steps across the tile and then he heard the door open and swish shut. Immediately, Theo pulled his cock out and began to masturbate, remembering how Aaron's ass had felt against his face, the little sounds he'd made when he was trying to fart, the way the smell had dominated him, pushing him under Aaron's power. He thought about how dominant Aaron was, the way the guy fantasized about humiliating men and fucking their girlfriends. Theo got off the toilet opened the lid, and shoved his face into water. With one hand he pulled the lever, giving himself a swirly, and with the other, he jerked off furiously. He came imagining Aaron bullying him, giving him a swirly and farting on him. He wondered if he would have the confidence to ask for that tomorrow, instead of a blow job.

One shot involving a character from another story, but not really part of that story. Enjoy!

​

I tried to hurry up. I hated changing in the gym locker room. I guess I was still a bit self-conscious, hadn't grown out of it yet, although I probably should have. I always tried extra hard to make sure I didn't accidentally glance at anyone. I'm not even sure what I thought would happen, I was just anxious in general. Quickly, I slipped my basketball shorts off, ready to pick up my sweatpants and put them on so I could leave.

​

It just so happened that at that very moment I lost my balance, and fell into the guy next to me in the crowded locker room. I tried to catch myself against the row of blue metal lockers behind us, apologizing at the same time, but I only made things worse by pushing into his shoulder instead, essentially falling on top of him and pinning him to the locker for a second or two while my brain tried to process what had just happened. All I could see were two steel grey eyes underneath blonde eyebrows, long, light eyelashes. I noticed nothing else; immediately, I pushed myself off the guy, apologizing profusely. The dude pulled the red towel wrapped around his waist up higher, as it had slipped so far down by that point it had almost revealed... well, you know what I mean.

​

"You good."

​

The guy said to me in a thick Russian accent. I felt intimidated even further by the accent, and apologized yet again. He didn't smile or anything. I was sort of worried, but just turned away and tried to hurry up and change. Unfortunately, all that was left to change was my pants and underwear, which I didn't want to do right after the occurrence that had just... occurred; and I was too scared to look behind me and see if the guy was done or had left yet, so I just stood there, kind of staring at the floor. The people around me had started to leave, so I figured the Russian (or whatever he was) behind me had already changed and gone.

​

I pulled my shorts down real quick, was about to do the same with my underwear when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around by reflex. It was the guy I'd had the accidental and strangely erotic encounter with not five minutes ago. He was holding a phone up to my face.

​

"This is yours, yes?"

​

He asked in that deep, gravelly voice of his, with the sexy accent. I studied phone; it had a blue and grey case and was, indeed, mine.

​

"Er... yeah, thanks!"

​

I reached for my phone, but the guy pulled it away with a little smirk. He had a sort of flat face, blonde hair that was pushed up into little spikes like the style that was popular for guys in the 2000's. His ears were big and stuck out from the sides of his head. His mouth almost looked too wide for his face. He was incredibly handsome in a really strange way, and clearly had been coming to the gym for a while, judging by his body; he was also still shirtless, wearing nothing but white boxer briefs.

​

"Uh... yeah, it's mine."

​

I gave a little nervous chuckle. A cruel little smile flipped across his face.

​

"You don't have pass code."

​

He said. He did something on my phone and then turned it to me to reveal a photo. Then moved to the next one and the one after that. They were pictures I had saved, more specifically gay porn. Pictures of guys sucking each other off. I felt my chest begin to vibrate as my heart sped up like a faulty motor.

​

"You are faggot?"

​

Asked the Slavic guy. I felt like there was a rock stuck in my throat. I couldn't answer him. He kept talking.

​

"You like that?"

​

He sounded incredulous. He shoved my phone into my face again. A picture of guy sitting on another guy's face. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. It was true, I WAS really into face sitting. I looked around. It seemed that there was no one else in the locker room, just us. At least he had given me that courtesy. I tried to take my phone back, he jerked it out of my hand with a cruel laugh. He went back to a different picture, one of a guy giving another guy a blow job.

​

"You do this to me."

​

He demanded. I could feel sweat collecting on my forehead. He basically had me pushed up against the lockers now. It was very intimidating.

​

"Hey, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you. That's my bad. Just give me my phone and I'll leave bro, I'm sorry. Just let me leave."

​

I begged. He shoved my phone into his black gym bag and slammed me into the locker. The metal dug into my back.

​

"What's your name?"

​

I asked.

​

"I'm Lance. What's your name?"

​

I repeated. He didn't answer, just put his hand on top of my head and pushed my head down; it went to the side, hurting my neck .

​

"You suck."

​

He ordered. I didn't want him to hurt me; I didn't know what to do. Would he leave me alone if I sucked him off? Would he give me my phone back? He was really very attractive.

​

"You want me to suck your dick?"

​

I asked. He nodded, slowly, and pulled his briefs down. His flaccid cock was thick and uncut. I loved uncut dicks. I'd only sucked one before. I wondered if it was really such a good idea, though.

​

"What's your name?"

​

I insisted.

​

"Ruslan. Suck it."

​

The man commanded. He shook his thick cock at me. He pushed my head downward again. This time I let him, getting down onto my knees. His fat dick stared me straight in the face, crowned with a thick, blonde bush. I swallowed anxiously and looked up at the guy; he sneered down at me.

​

"Come on, pyetukh. Suck me."

​

I wondered what he'd just called me. From the sound of it, it couldn't be anything good. I pulled back Ruslan's foreskin and gingerly put his bulbous, mushroom-like cock head into my mouth. He didn't wait for me to suck, and rudely shoved his half hard dick down my throat, causing me to gag. He looked down at me and grinned, evilly. I think the guy was enjoying my suffering. I must have looked a mess, my eyes watering, but couldn't deny that I loved it; my body told the truth, my erection jutting out in my boxers. But Ruslan didn't seem interested in that, only in fucking my throat. He grabbed the sides of my head and began to skull fuck me, ignoring my gags and sobs. I was scared someone would come into the locker room and see us, but the Russian was lost in ecstasy.

​

I let my arms fall limply to my sides; they were useless. I allowed the Russian to throat fuck me. He groaned as he did so, making cute noises; cute? More like masculine, deep grunts. Sexy. My ignored boner flowed with precum as my esophagus was violated with Ruslan's massive cock, pounding me, going deeper with each thrust. The guy was using me like I was a human fleshlight. My forehead bounced off of his flat, sculpted stomach as he treated my throat like a pussy.

​

I reached into my underwear and started to jerk myself off; Ruslan slapped my arm.

​

"No. Just suck."

​

He said. I felt a little humiliated. He was treating me like a whore. I wanted to kiss him. Instead, my throat was being fucked like I was just a hole to be used. An object.

​

Ruslan grabbed my ears and pushed himself into me, then pulled himself back out; in and out, in and out. As he did so, he continued to moan, the sounds increasing in intensity. I could do nothing but let him throat fuck me. I was as hard as possible, harder, maybe than I'd ever been in my entire life. I loved being used by this manly, foreign stud.

​

I could tell the man was close to cumming when he began to slap me, not hard, but it still stung, calling me a 'peedor'; then he closed his eyes and shoved his enormous erection all the way down my throat. I struggled and dry heaved, unable to breathe with his massive tool all the way down my esophagus and my nose sealed to his crotch, completely filled with thick pubic hair. He then pulled his cock out so that the head rested on the tip of my tongue, shot me a little smirk, and fucked my mouth faster and harder than even before. He did this for maybe less than a minute before smashing my skull, again, into his crotch, hitting the back of my head roughly, and letting out a guttural bellow, something like 'Ahhhhhh huhuhuh!', and flooded my throat with sperm. I gagged and struggled, to no avail; he didn't release me until the very last of his cum had dribbled out, all sliding into my throat and straight down into my stomach. I fell against the metal lockers, banging my head against them and gasping for air. The man laughed, not cruelly, sort of relieved and embarrassed. He pulled his briefs up over his bulge.

​

Suddenly, Ruslan turned around and shoved his ass into my face, grinding his butt crack into my nose. It was sweaty and hot. He turned around and gave me a thumbs up, saying,

​

"You like, yes?"

​

I was stunned. I didn't know what to say. Maybe that was his way of returning the favor, rather than sucking me off or letting me cum. He pulled on some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket. Then, he pulled my phone from his black bag and tossed it to me. I just barely caught it. In that sexy, European accent of his, he told me,

​

"I bring friends. Next time."

​

And left me on the cold tile floor, breathing heavily, still erect and horny.

I smiled to myself as I watched Tanner pull on Bill's ear while Bill shoved him, shouting although I couldn't hear anything the dudes were saying to one another. These guys were so cute. They seemed like best friends and I had always been kinda envious of them. Unlike Mike and I, they seemed to be mostly on the same wavelength. They were best buds, had similar personalities, they were both masculine and cocky, and they had sex with each other sometimes. I'd thought about it since the camping trip and I'd decided that they would have made a great couple. It was too bad they were too insecure in their sexuality to ever even consider such a thing. Especially Bill. But there was something about Bill that I didn't see in Tanner, and that's probably the thing that was the biggest difference between the two.

​

Michael and I were almost polar opposites. I was skinny and shy and nerdy. He was buff, masculine, cocky, confident, and didn't really care about school. He rarely went, I wasn't even sure why he didn't drop out already. Michael and I probably wouldn't have been the best couple even if he was gay. Mike had said some highly confusing things to me in the past several months. That he loved me, but not in the way I wanted. Sure, that one was easy enough to interpret, right? He loved me as a friend and nothing more. Then he'd kissed me and had been extremely romantic with me. The way he treated me just didn't make sense. And now he had a girlfriend but was still willing to jerk me off... not just get his dick sucked or have me wack him off, but jerk ME off. What was that about? It didn't really benefit him in any way. He could have been regular friends with me now that he was in a relationship, or he could have had me suck his cock when he wanted to nut and she wouldn't give him head. But what did he get out of jerking me off? In fact, even if he wasn't with her...

​

I watched Tanner drive off and realized the light had turned green. I wanted to follow them. I wondered if I'd ever see them again. Oh, fuck! Mitch. I pulled over to the shoulder of the road and took my phone out. Last night he had said that we could hang out the next day if I wanted. That was today, and I wanted, very much. I felt incredibly nervous as I texted him, and then wondered if I should have called. I couldn't now, cause it would make me look like a desperate weirdo to text and then call right after, especially since I was just asking if he wanted to hang out. I really hoped that he did. I also really hoped he wouldn't get too anxious because of his confession the night before. He had admitted to me that he liked me, something that seemed to upset him a lot. For one thing, he had a girlfriend, Ashley. I assumed that guilt could be present in the fact that he liked both her and me, and that could have been responsible for how upset he'd gotten. I mean Jesus, he'd actually cried! I know I cry a lot, but that's me. "Masculine" men rarely let themselves, sad as it may be. I've heard people say that seeing their father cry was one of the scariest and most confusing moments of their life, or, even sadder, women say that they've lost attraction for a guy after seeing him cry. If I'm being honest, the opposite has always been true for me. Seeing a guy cry (or, rather, imagining it, since this was the first time it had ever happened to me like this!), especially if it's over me, is extremely attractive and something I've fantasized about quite a lot, especially in bed trying to fall asleep. It means they feel very strongly about me. They care. I just cry cause I'm an over-emotional loser.

​

The other possibility, of course, was that he felt really bad about liking a guy. I guess that was equally likely. Maybe he hated himself for being into guys, and not just cause he had a girlfriend. That sort of thing was quite obvious when it came to Bill, and maybe a little less obvious with Michael, but it was there. Mitch had never exactly said anything that led me to believe this was the case, but he had been paranoid about being caught, even back before he had a girlfriend, on the camping trip. He'd told me we could never do anything again because the risk of getting caught was too great and it would ruin his life. Then again, I understood. I was in the closet as well, but maybe I was less paranoid, less in denial. I knew I was fully gay and I didn't try to have relationships with women or force myself to be straight. Still, I didn't want people to know I was gay. I was scared it would get back to my family, and I'd always been bullied. If people knew I was gay, they'd just treat me even worse.

​

My phone buzzed, it was Mitch. He said that, unfortunately, something had happened and he couldn't chill with me today but asked if I wanted to come over to his apartment tomorrow, or he could come to mine. I said 'whatever works' and he sent me his address. I felt like he was trying to make it up to me by letting me come over. Maybe he was scared that if I felt rejected by him canceling on me today that I'd just fade away.

​

I texted Mike and asked if he wanted to hang out today. He came right out with it and told me he was with his gf today and couldn't, but that he would come over next weekend. Or earlier if he could.

​

Whatever. I felt sad. Maybe it was seeing Bill and Tanner, but somehow I felt empty inside and lonely. Then again, maybe it was letting myself be used by that arrogant redneck stud. Fuck, he was hot though. So hot. I decided to do something I swore to myself I'd never do, and downloaded grindr. I flipped through my feed, mostly only seeing people with no faces or that were highly unattractive to me. One face did stand out, though. The guy looked sort of like me, if I was a ginger, and worked out at least a little. He wasn't thin like me, but he also didn't look like someone who really went to the gym, just had natural muscle. Like me, he was pretty pale. His hair was a little shorter than mine (I did need a haircut) and, like I said, was orange. He had cute freckles. I figured he probably wouldn't respond to me anyway, so I just hit the little fire icon. I wondered if it was worth it to message him even if he might not reply. But someone like him probably had guys messaging him all the time. He had several pictures, his bio said 'not looking for hook ups, I want to get to know you'. What more could people want?

​

Several minutes later though, he had messaged me, saying hey. His name was Connor. I asked if he wanted to meet, and he asked what for. I figured that was his way of saying he didn't want to hang out, although it seemed kind of rude.

​

Me: 'To eat, I guess'.

​

Connor: 'My bad, I just wanted to make sure you weren't just trying to hook up. You'd be surprised how many people here don't read bios.'

​

We decided to meet at a pizza place. I was incredibly nervous. I'd never been on a date before. I wondered if people would realize we were gay. I thought about canceling, but I didn't want to hurt the guy's feelings, plus I found him really attractive. That was one reason I'd picked a pizza place anyway. It wasn't a real fancy place, we could just be two guys hanging out.

​

When he walked in, I did a little wave, and realized it was the same thing I'd done for Mitch the night before. I felt a little guilty and I missed Mitch, too. I wanted to leave. Connor sat down and shook my hand.

​

"Hey, man. So, it's nice to meet you."

​

I smiled and introduced myself. He seemed kinda masculine, a little more than me, but not cocky like Michael. I don't think I seem gay, just nerdy. He didn't really seem gay either, but he didn't come across as trying too hard to be masculine, he was just a regular guy. Which I liked. He asked me about my interests. We didn't really share too many.

​

"I work on cars."

​

He told me.

​

"Really?"

​

I asked. I was surprised.

​

"Yeah, people say I don't seem like the type. Not sure if that's good or bad."

​

"I... I just meant..."

​

"No, you're good bro. I didn't mean you, just meant I dunno if it's good or bad I don't seem like the type."

​

We got along pretty well, but I was very nervous. I kept wondering if people were looking at me, if they knew I was on a date. Besides, since I'd never been on one I didn't know how I was supposed to act, what I was supposed to talk about. When we left, he made me let him pay. I felt really guilty. I felt like he was paying because he wanted to apologize somehow for not liking me, and I felt like the reason might be that I barely talked cause I was so anxious. I decided I had to do something about that, at least to TRY to explain myself, so when we went outside I followed him to his car, even after we'd already parted ways.

​

"Wait! Can I explain something?"

​

Connor turned around, surprised. The way he looked so boyishly handsome in the light of the street lamps made it hard to continue, but I soldiered on.

​

"I, um... I was really nervous, back there. In the restaurant. I've never been in a date before. I was scared... look, okay, I'm not really out yet. I probably shouldn't even admit that and I know I keep talking when I need to shut up, but I was scared people could tell I was on a date with another guy. I mean with a guy. Well, if that's even what this was. And I feel like you don't like me cause you think I'm weird, cause I was so quiet. I'm gonna shut up. Sorry."

​

He started to laugh. I felt just awful. Then, he grabbed my neck and pulled me in and kissed me.

​

"I like you."

​

He said.

​

"You do?"

​

I was shocked.

​

"Doesn't it seem like it?"

​

He asked. I realized he had just kissed me, so he probably did.

​

"Ya!"

​

I said. I probably sounded quite enthusiastic.

​

"Then I probably do."

​

He smiled. I felt stupid. I wanted to cry, but didn't. I wanted to cry cause he was so cute and he actually liked me and not just cause he wanted to fuck me. And there wasn't something in the way, like with Mitch. That was hopeless. I also wanted to cry because he made me feel secure, and that was not an easy thing to do.

​

"Thanks."

​

I said. He grinned. I knew he thought I was talking about the kiss, but I wasn't.

​

"So it doesn't bother you?"

​

I asked.

​

"What?"

​

"Me... being in the closet."

​

He shrugged.

​

"Nah. I am. To my parents, anyway."

​

We were more similar than I thought. He opened the door to his car and got in. I didn't want to leave. I liked him so much, I just stood there.

​

"What's up?"

​

He asked.

​

"I don't know. Nothing, sorry. I'm not trying to fuck, sorry."

​

I started to walk away, then hit myself in the head. Literally. I turned around and walked back. He hadn't even shut the car door yet.

​

"I meant tonight. I didn't want you to think I was trying to fuck on the first date."

​

Connor laughed again.

​

"You're so cute."

​

He said.

​

---

​

Laying in bed that night, I was overwhelmed with emotions and thoughts. How on earth had Connor even liked me? I was such a dunce. I hadn't made myself very likeable at all. I'd been so awkward, we didn't share many interests, and I'd also come across as a pathetic loser with no self esteem. Which was the truth. He wasn't trying to fuck, so why did he like me? What if he was trying to take advantage of me? I made myself stop thinking. I knew it was crazy to assume something like that. It was just so hard to believe anyone would really ever like me for me.

​

So what about Mitch? Of course, with Mitch there was an easier explanation. Mitch had never been with a guy before he'd hooked up with me. I was the ONLY guy he'd ever been with, in fact. So it made a sort of sense that he'd fall for the first guy he had sex with if he had repressed his homosexuality. I liked Mitch a lot, but I could never be with him. Connor was actually gay, unlike Mitch, who was probably bisexual, like, I assumed, Michael or Tanner.

​

Of course, there's was also THAT little problem. What about Michael? I was in love with Michael. I had been for a decade now. Was it fair to Connor to get to know him, knowing he was looking for romance, if I was still in love with my best friend? Of course, I could never actually be with Michael, but that didn't stop me from loving him. Connor actually liked me. I didn't know what to do. Was it better to just tell him we couldn't talk anymore cause maybe he would have wanted to date me someday and we couldn't cause I was in love with my straight best friend that I occasionally let dominate me and treat me like garbage (oh yeah, and he didn't know THAT about me! Joy!) who also just jerked me off the day before? Or was it better to just wait and see how things went?

​

It was so hot in my room. I threw my blanket on the floor. I couldn't stop thinking about all of these over and over again, in a spiral. Seems like that's all I'd been doing since I'd hooked up with that redneck guy earlier that day, Westley. I felt like I was being sucked inside a seashell of the mind.

​

West. He'd really confused me. Although, I suppose not any MORE than Michael. Westley had seemed obvious enough, another closeted straight guy who really just wants to get his dick sucked by "homos". So why had he gotten so upset when I'd tried to leave after he pissed on me? That was weird, right? And then said he wanted to be my friend? I simply didn't understand why he would even care.

​

---

​

The next morning I woke up to a text from Connor telling me good morning. I wasn't sure why, but it made me feel odd. I wasn't used to guys being nice to me, or even liking me at all, so it felt strange to get a good morning text from a guy, let alone one I actually liked. I shoved my phone into my pocket and went to class.

​

It was nearing the end of the semester and we had finals soon, so there was a lot of studying. When finally I got out of class, I checked my phone to see a text from Mitch asking if I wanted to come over and hang out. I also realized I'd never replied to Connor. I felt just terrible. I apologized to him, and drove over to Mitch's apartment.

​

It was a nice apartment complex, one I'd visited before with friends a couple years earlier. I could feel my heart beating in my throat as I knocked on the door. He answered, momentarily, and let me in. We sat on his couch and he put Game of Thrones on the television. Not something I cared about in the slightest. I couldn't help but keep looking over at him. If nothing else, at least to entertain myself. After a little while, he said to me, without even turning,

​

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

​

I faced the TV. Fuck. My palms started to sweat. He hated me. He would never hang out with me again. He thought I was weird now.

​

"Well?"

​

He was definitely looking at me now, and he wanted an answer. I didn't really have one.

​

"Sorry."

​

I almost whispered. I had fucked up. He just wanted to be friends, and he was probably thinking, right about now, that that would be impossible with me.

​

"I asked why."

​

He said, forcefully. Everything sounded forceful in that deep voice of his, though.

​

"I don't know. I just like looking at you. Sorry."

​

Mitch almost blushed and ran his hand through his hair, hiding his face for a second; his expression was totally neutral once his arm was gone.

​

"You're so gay."

​

He said. My stomach twisted.

​

"I'm sorry."

​

I replied, softly. Mitch just looked at me for a moment after my reply. I kept his gaze, despite feeling like his eyes were burning me. Finally, he responded,

​

"It's okay. Just a joke."

​

I smiled. I wanted to kiss him. I thought about Connor and felt guilty. Mitch kept looking at me.

​

"Have you ever gotten fucked?"

​

He asked. I nodded, real small. He continued,

​

"I mean like... in the ass."

​

I nodded again. He chewed on his lip.

​

"Would you ever... ah, nevermind."

​

I had wanted to ask if he'd ever fuck a guy, but I was not brave enough, I was scared it would make him hate me.

​

"No, what?"

​

"Nothing. Forget it."

​

But Mitch insisted.

​

"No, what were you gonna say, dude? Tell me."

​

"No, I can't. You'll think I'm weird."

​

"Nah, bro. I'll never think that. I've always thought you were cool. Haven't I?"

​

I nodded again.

​

"So tell me."

​

I stated to scratch my palm with my fingernail, a nervous tic. I decided to go for it.

​

"Uh... would you ever fuck a guy?"

​

I was terrified of his response. He didn't smile or laugh or anything. Just kept a poker face. Eventually, he said,

​

"Yup."

​

I nodded.

​

"That's cool."

​

I replied.

​

"Would you suck my dick?"

​

Mitch asked. I was confused. Hadn't I already done so? And not even that long ago, really.

​

"Well... yeah. I would. I mean, I did. Huh?"

​

"No, bro," he replied, "I mean would you do it now. I'm asking. Can you please suck my dick?"

​

"Oh. Yeah."

​

He smiled at me. I wanted to kiss him again. I wanted that all the time. I felt, however, like we'd started at square one. Just cause he'd kissed me the other night when he'd confessed to me that he liked me didn't mean he was okay with it today. This kinda felt like we were beginning fresh, like that first time. He was the first dick I'd ever sucked. First guy I'd ever done ANYTHING with except jerk off a little. I liked Mitch a lot, and knowing that he liked me back but couldn't ever be with me hurt a lot. But he was about to let me suck him off, which made me very happy.

​

He unzipped his pants, unbuttoned them, and pulled his dick out. Like mine, it was pretty small when soft, like 2-3 inches, and the thick, dark pubic hair he'd grown since his clean-shaven days at camp only made the slightness of his size more pronounced. Sometimes I thought his size is what made me like him so much. It was like we shared something, an understanding. He was confident and masculine despite his size, which proved that size isn't what makes you a man.

​

He layed back on the couch, long ways so that his shoes were almost in my lap. I stared at the dirty bottoms of his black sneakers. I assumed he must have wanted me to suck his dick on the couch instead of getting down on my knees on the floor, which was kind of nice if you think about it. I think. I got on my haunches and leaned over him. He had his dick gripped in his hand, and was jerking himself off. He stopped to let me lick his dick head. He closed his eyes and I noticed how cute his dark, full eyelashes were. He was so hot like this, eyes closed, his cheeks red. They always looked pink, some guys who work out a lot have naturally red or pink cheeks. It was incredibly cute, real handsome.

​

He frowned when I started to suck his dick. A frown of concentration, not anger; I could see his nostrils widen and his mouth tighten. He ran his hand through my hair, but didn't push my head down; he just kept combing through my hair with his fingers as I bobbed up and down on his erect penis, trying my best to make him feel even better than last time. My tongue swirled around his dick head, making it jump in my mouth, and I went down to the base, licking the underside of his dick as I did so; I could feel the thick vein that ran along the length of his erection with my tongue. He grabbed the sides of my head; I beat him to it, and decided to face fuck myself. I slammed my face down to the base of his dick, my face in his pubic hairs. I gagged on his dick and heard that deep moan of his rumble through his chest. I kept going, trying to keep up pace with his bucking hips, but he wanted to go faster than I could go. Finally, he gripped my skull and started to pump his dick into my throat with incredible speed and force. Slime connected me to his crotch as he mashed my forehead into his stomach, lifted my head back up, down again, up, down. I felt like I was his human fleshlight and I loved it. His dick may have been pretty average size, but that didn't stop him from constantly slamming the tip into the entrance of my throat, making me heave and sputter. I could tell the vibrations of my choking made it feel even better for him. He let out a long, drawn out sigh and released me, allowing me to suck more slowly. He smiled, and then put his palm on the top of my head, flattening my hair, and whammed his cock straight down my throat again, pressing my face into his crotch. I gagged repeatedly, saliva streamed from my mouth in rivers. I heard him groan like he was about to cry. Then, he released me, just enough to get halfway up his dick before slamming me back down, throatfucking me with a speed and strength I'd never experienced before. It was like he was the horniest guy in the whole fucking world.

​

After maybe five minutes of this, he lifted my head up again, and this time let go, starting to jerk himself off. He looked frantically from my face to his dick and back again. His expression was one of, almost, surprise. His mouth dropped open. I could see his tongue quivering inside. Then, he let out a deep moan, 'ahhh, ahhh, uhhhmm... hutt!' and he shot his wad onto my face. It splattered across my nose and mouth. I let my tongue dart out to taste it. Salty. He shot again. It hit my forehead; again onto my hair, and again on my cheek. The rest dribbled out slowly, down the length of his cock. I licked it up. I felt him smear his cum into my hair, then he pushed his palm into my face and slid the rest of it off. He took his hand, with the cum still on it, and ran his hand through my dark hair again, several times. I looked up at him, questioningly.

​

"Sorry," he said, his tone apologetic, "you're so cute."

​

I didn't really get whether he was explaining why he just put his cum into my hair or explaining why he came on my face. Or whether the 'sorry' and 'you're so cute' weren't even related.

​

Mitch sat up and pulled his pants up over his dick. I couldn't help myself.

​

"Can I kiss you?"

​

I asked. His mouth drooped downward.

​

"Uh... sorry."

​

I sat up. I was still hard.

​

"Do you want to jerk me off?"

​

He looked sad, like a lost puppy. He sighed.

​

"Not really... I'm sorry, man. If you're asking me if I WANT to, the answer is no."

​

"But will you?"

​

I questioned, keying in on the emphasis he'd placed on the word 'want'.

​

"Uh... well, yeah. If you REALLY want me to. But I'd prefer not to."

​

I didn't want to make him do something he didn't want me to do, although it really hurt my feelings. I wanted to feel like he liked me. Also, though, I didn't want to make him feel bad about himself, and he clearly had a lot of shame built up over his sexuality. I got up to leave. Mitch grabbed my hand and held it.

​

"Wait! Where you going?"

​

He looked at me, pleadingly, for a moment before continuing.

​

"Please stay."

​

---

​

After watching TV for about an hour I told him I had to go home and study, which was true. When I got home, I realized I had never replied to Connor's response, something I couldn't explain, even to myself. I really liked the guy, why was I putting it off? He'd even sent me another text, asking if I wanted to hang out. I said yes.

​

When he got to my apartment he seemed nervous. Confident, but nervous. We went to my bedroom and sat down on my bed since that was the last room in the house and I'd given him a tour. He ran a hand through his short orange hair and I noticed he'd gotten a smudge of black dust in it. From working on cars, I suppose.

​

"You, uh... your hair."

​

I pointed out.

​

"Huh?"

​

"There's a black mark."

​

Connor looked at his hands and grinned sheepishly.

​

"Eh... my bad. Get it?"

​

He lowered his head and pointed it toward me. I was really anxious. I felt like my hands were wet with sweat and was scared to touch his hair. I brushed it, but the smudge wouldn't go away, so I used the heel of my palm to run slick against his skull, pushing his hair down onto it, rubbing the mark away. Somehow, it had gotten my dick half hard, and I'd no idea why. How was that even hot? He looked up at me and smiled.

​

"I'm really nervous."

​

I admitted with a laugh. I wasn't even sure why I'd just told him that.

​

"Me too."

​

Connor replied.

​

"Why?"

​

I asked. He hadn't seemed nervous at all the night before.

​

"Cause I was gonna try to get into your pants."

​

"Oh. I thought you, uh..."

​

I trailed off. He gave me an embarassed grin.

​

"I mean, this is the second date, not the first. I got to know you. A little. Enough to know I want to get to know you more. Enough to know I like you, Lance."

​

When he said my name I felt my heart (and dick) jump wildly. No one had ever said my name like that before, I couldn't even describe it. It was like he was saying the name of a treasured religious icon of devotion. I didn't know what to say, except for,

​

"Me too."

​

And then, a second later,

​

"Like you I mean. Me too, I also like you. Not I like myself too. My bad. Shut up, Lance."

​

Connor grinned. I noticed that one of his front teeth was slightly crooked, and it made me want to cry because I thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world.

​

"Can I kiss you?"

​

Connor asked me. I moved closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder. I leaned in to kiss him, then had an intrusive thought:

​

"What if I said no right now, after doing that?"

​

I verbalized, unable to stop myself. We both burst out laughing and collapsed into the bed. Fuck. I was really starting to like this dude, even more than I'd thought possible. And that terrified me. It almost made me want to kick him out of my apartment. He got on top of me, on all fours, and leaned down, kissing me tenderly. I opened my eyes in the middle of the kiss because I wanted to look at his face, up close and personal. I noticed that his eyelashes were more blonde than orange. I noticed he had a freckle right next to his eye. I tried to count his freckles but the kiss ended before I was done counting.

​

"I never asked, are you a bottom?"

​

I was scared. I didn't know how to answer him. After all, I didn't really know. I'd mostly only sucked dick. I'd gotten fucked once, but I'd never even tried to fuck anyone before. Nobody except Holster (that's what I called my left hand; yes, my left, not my right).

​

"I guess."

​

I shrugged. He raised one eyebrow.

​

"You just telling me what you think I wanna hear?"

​

He asked. I shook my head.

​

"I've never tried anything else. Actually, I've only bottomed once."

​

"You like it?"

​

Connor queried. I blushed. It had been for Michael. It had been the most passionate sex of my life. I had loved it.

​

"Yeah."

​

I said.

​

"Good. I want to fuck you."

​

Came Connor's reply. I was unsure what to say or do. I was scared it would make me like him too much and I'd get my heart broken. I wanted to tell him no. He was just too nice to me. He didn't degrade me or just use me to get his nut. That really scared me, a LOT. I didn't know how to handle it. I sat up.

​

"Uh... Connor. I don't know."

​

The guy looked surprised.

​

"What's wrong?"

​

"I can't explain. I don't know what to say. I like you so much. I don't know if telling you that I don't want to fuck right now will make you think I don't, even if you say you understand, or if you'll think I'm too fucked up and leave. I shouldn't have even said all that. Makes me sound weird."

​

I slapped my face into my hands. What the hell was wrong with me? Connor pried one hand away and I could see a little smile flit across his lips.

​

"You think I'm that sex obsessed?"

​

"No, I... I don't know. Sorry."

​

"We don't have to do anything at all."

​

Connor said. I smiled. I was still horny, but his suggestion was really very sweet.

​

"Can we jerk off together? I mean jerk ourselves off."

​

"Yeah," he responded, "kind of innocent and cute, Lance."

​

I pulled my jeans and underwear down real fast. I took my socks off too, I don't know why. Connor took his shirt and shoes off, pulling his jeans and boxers down to his ankles. We both sat next to each other on my bed against the wall. I noticed that he even had orange pubic hair. Makes sense, but I'd honestly never even thought about it before. His balls were really big compared to his dick, which seemed average. I spat in my hand and started to jerk myself off. I hoped he wouldn't think my dick was too small. I was rather self conscious.

​

I watched his face as he masturbated. He was looking down at his own dick, lost in thought. I wondered what it was that he was imagining. I wanted to ask, but I didn't. He closed his eyes. I traced his body from the small pit at the bottom of his throat to the rise and fall of his chest; the peach fuzz on his freckled arms, his red nipples, almost dark against his light skin. He didn't have much body hair, or, rather, it was light blonde and orange, but he had a small trail of hair from his belly button down to his crotch, which was really hot. I was surprised to note that his dick was growing a LOT. It was much bigger and thicker than my boner now. Clearly he was a grower. He had thick thighs, his legs were covered in light hair that stuck together in little rings, especially as it went downward, getting thicker and darker. He was wearing black socks. For some reason, his socked feet made me even more horny. I wanted to go look at the bottom of his feet, but I was scared. I wondered if his shoes stank or smelled good.

​

Our arms rubbed together momentarily because I jerked with my left hand, like a weirdo, and he used his right like a normal person. He opened one eye and grinned at me.

​

"Lefty?"

​

He asked. I nodded.

​

"You, uh... probably should have washed your hands."

​

I noted. He looked down; there was grey on his dick. He shrugged.

​

"Fuck it."

​

He started to look at my dick as he wacked off. I momentarily felt self-conscious, but I noticed that his face was getting more flushed, his dick even harder. He was clearly aroused by my dick, despite my being only slightly bigger than half the size he was. I watched him lick his lips unconsciously. I noticed his ears turned red as well when his cheeks did, which was incredibly cute. Man he was hot!

​

I watched his feet as he masturbated. He would curl his toes, then push his feet out straight. They were like a map for the contours of his pleasure. He began to moan, quietly.

​

"Mmmmmhut."

​

This turned me on a lot, especially watching his adam's apple bob up and down as he made noises with his mouth shut. He searched my face, looking at my hair (which I remembered still had Mitch's cum in it, making me feel guilty), my eyes, my nose, my lips.

​

"Can you take your shirt off?"

​

He asked in a low, husky tone. I complied. I watched his pale blue eyes as he praised my body with them; they jumped back and forth, from my chest to my cock to my face to my stomach. I tried to breath more lightly. His hand sped up. I noticed that balls were incredibly low compared to mine and most others I had seen.

​

I watched his toes curl again in his black socks. He went faster and faster, breathing more quickly and more shallow. He made little noises, 'hm, hm, hm, hut. Hm, hm, hm, hut'. Then 'aht!', jerking his head involuntarily. He couldn't take his eyes off of my dick, my face, my chest. I could tell I was close. I spat in my hand again, he copied me. His eyebrows wiggled up and down, his ears following suit. He began to breath very heavily and tense his legs up, his feet rigid. His large nuts rose up to the base of his fat, large cock, leaving the loose skin of his sack hanging down. Then he dropped his mouth and let out a long sigh, 'haaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh'.

​

We came, right after one another. I shot on my stomach, slowly, he ejaculated quickly and with force, his cum going all the way up to his chest, his neck, some even landing on his chin and his cheek. He giggled shakily, exhaling heavily, and wiped it off.

​

"I have to piss! Shit, man."

​

He said loudly.

​

When he got up off my bed, I studied his pale ass. It was a really nice shape, almost hairless, and I could see his balls hanging down beneath his legs. They were so low and heavy, already released from their prior position. Connor turned to me before leaving the room, saying,

​

"I really like your dick, Lance, I like it a lot, and that was really hot."

​

He took a step out of the room, then turned back toward me, with a little laugh,

​

"Hey, that rhymed!"

​

When he'd left the room, I couldn't help myself. I just had to know. I crawled off the bed to where he'd kicked his sneakers off earlier, telling myself I'd just take a quick sniff, that I'd be done way before he got back from peeing; I needed to know what his feet smelled like. I picked up a silver and black Nike, lifting it to my nose, taking a ginger sniff. It was not a very strong scent, light but dirty. I took a deeper whiff.

​

"Hey, where's the bathroom ag--"

​

I dropped the shoe onto my carpet like a hot potato, looking up from my position on my knees to see Connor towering above me, mouth agape, a shocked frown written across his face.

​

"What the hell are doing, Lance?"

​

Oh, I had fucked up alright, and fucked up royally.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I could tell from the way he'd texted me that Mitch was angry. I could guess what it was about. Before I could even call him, I got another text,

​

"Matter of fact, just meet me. We need to talk."

​

My chest vibrated. Before walking out the door, I noticed the smeared pen markings on my hand and entered them into my phone, hoping I was reading them correctly. They were partially erased, so one of them could have been a '9' or a '4'. I wasn't sure how to spell the guy's name either, but I guessed it was 'Westley', and not 'Wesley'. There'd been a 'T' in there, right?

​

We had planned to meet at the McDonald's near the shopping plaza I'd seen Mitch at earlier. My heart was pounding as I walked in the door. I scanned, but he wasn't there yet, so I just sat down in a booth in the corner, away from everyone. Fifteen minutes later, and just as I was about to get up and order some food, I saw a familiar face (and muscular body) walk in through the door. My breath caught in my throat a little. He didn't look mad, but that didn't mean he wasn't. I gave a little half wave and he saw me and walked over and sat down across from me. He just stared at me for a second, like he was trying to read something in my face. I felt like I was being interrogated despite neither of us having spoken a word. I also couldn't help but notice how attractive he was, as always. The cute, short brown hair that was cropped closely on the sides (and back) of the head, his dark brown eyes and darker eyebrows, his wide jaw and ears that were just a little too small for his face. And, of course, his toned, muscled arms. Finally, he shook his head, and said to me,

​

"What the fuck, Lance? What was that shit you pulled?"

​

When I started to talk, it sounded like I was squeaking and I had to clear my throat to continue.

​

"What do you mean?"

​

I asked.

​

"Mitch has told me so much about you? What the hell was that? I've never told you a thing about her. That sounded like a fucking threat!"

​

Mitch hissed. I was scared. I'd literally never seen Mitch angry in my entire life. Did he hate me now? Had I blown it?

​

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean for it to sound like that. It was just a joke. I wasn't threatening you. I'd never do that. I like you, Mitch."

​

His eyes softened. He played with his fingers for a second before continuing, in that deep, commanding voice of his,

​

"Well. I'm sorry, Lance. Sorry I didn't text you. I wanted to."

​

"It's okay."

​

I replied, sounding more timid and pathetic than I'd wanted to. I wished I was more masculine, more like Mitch. Or Michael. Or anyone. I just wished I wasn't so damn pathetic.

​

"Look..." Mitch sighed, "you wanna get out of here? Maybe we can go somewhere."

​

"Can we get something to eat?"

​

I asked, realizing I was starved. I hadn't eaten all day. Mitch raised a brow.

​

"We're at McDonald's, bro."

​

We got burgers and ate them in his truck. He asked where I wanted to go and I shrugged. I had no clue. I was wondering what he had planned, it seemed like he'd changed track so quickly. He took a swig of coke and let out a long, deep belch. I felt my dick twitch. Damn, he was cute. He looked at me, a drop of coke on his lip, eyes wide and innocent. I wanted to kiss him so badly. My face turned red and he turned away, looking out the car window for a moment. At length, he sighed and slapped his thighs, saying,

​

"Well. You wanna just drive around?"

​

I nodded. He smiled at me kindly. I was elated to finally be with him again. I had given up thinking we'd ever see each other again a long time ago. Out of the three guys I'd met on the camping trip, he was the one I'd liked the most. Bill and Tanner were great as well, and very attractive, but Mitch had been so cool to me. He'd always treated me like we were bros, and had never made fun of me or teased me like the other guys. He'd only ever tried to help me. I liked him a lot.

​

He looked so handsome driving his truck, especially as he put his arm around the seat behind me when he turned to look back when he reversed to back out of the parking lot. There was something so sexy and masculine about that. Unfortunately, he took his arm away real quick, and it never so much as brushed against me. The way I figured, he was probably faithful to his girl but he liked being around me. He said before, back at camp, that we could never hook up ever again because it was too much of a risk. Well, that risk was compounded now that he had a girlfriend, so obviously we wouldn't be doing anything tonight. But just being around the guy made me happy, it made me feel good. Maybe Mitch felt the same way? Then again, maybe not. Maybe he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't fuck things up for him and wanted to make me feel cared about or something so I wouldn't tell her what we'd done. I really hoped that wasn't the case, because it would have hurt me a lot. Especially for him to believe whatsoever that I'd EVER do anything to mess up his life! I simply was not that kind of person. I cared about him, although I didn't really know him super well. I wanted him to be happy, and I was glad he'd realized I hadn't meant anything by my stupid comment.

​

Driving through the town at night with Mitch was kind of surreal, and also serene. We lived in a small town, so there weren't many people out, although it was only about 9pm, and the neon lights trailed through his dark truck windows as we cut through the black. We turned onto the highway, a loop that went around town. Mitch looked at me and shot me an evil grin. I didn't have much time to wonder what it was for– almost immediately he slammed the gas pedal to the floor and sped his truck up to well over 80 miles per hour. My heart revved up till it was going just about as fast as the automobile. I started to feel sick. I begged him to slow down, said we were gonna get caught and he'd get a ticket, but he just smiled maliciously and pointed to his ear, saying,

​

"Can't hear ya, bud!"

​

I felt like I was gonna puke. I doubled over, and he slowed down immediately; pulling over onto the shoulder, he jumped out of his car and ran faster than I'd ever seen anyone run in my life. He slammed the door open and asked if I was gonna throw up.

​

"Just give me a minute."

​

I pled. He stood helplessly in the tall grass next to me as the cicadas chirped in the woods behind us. My stomach started to settle. I noticed his sneakers were wet from night dew, and the bottom of his jeans. I looked up at him. Man, he was cute!

​

"You good now?"

​

He asked. I nodded. He stepped closer and looked me in the face, as if trying to discern whether this were true, whether it was safe to shut the door or if i might puke all over his interior. I did my best to look okay, but the manner in which he looked at me made me feel really strange. I wanted to kiss him very badly. And the length of time and way he was looking at me made me think he might want the same thing. I studied his face. He was so handsome. So masculine. So nice looking. A gentleman. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I swallowed. His lips parted a little. I could see his eyes go from one side of my face to the other. I saw him look up at my hair and then down at my lips and back to my eyes. Suddenly, he pushed me back into my seat, shut the door, and went and hopped into the driver's seat and took off.

​

"I know where we can go."

​

He said. We whistled down the dark highway.

​

---

​

We pulled down a side road and parked. There was nothing here, nothing at all but some woods and the dirt road ahead and behind us, going off into nowhere, and it was pitch black but for a pale moon when Mitch turned the headlights off. I was scared a car would come through and hit us, not being able to see his truck.

​

"What are we doing?"

​

I asked.

​

"I thought we could just sit and talk."

​

Mitch replied.

​

"About what?"

​

"Dunno."

​

I looked over at him. I couldn't see him that well in the darkness. He looked like he was breathing hard. He drew his lips together, tightly.

​

"Are you--"

​

I wasn't even able to finish what I was saying before he grabbed the side of my head, clumsily, and kissed me. His finger slid awkwardly into my ear. I could feel his teeth bite my bottom lip lightly, he teased me with his tongue. I could his dark, thick long eyelashes in the moonlight. My eyes were still open in surprise when he broke the kiss and turned away from me, covering his face with his hand and exhaling, loudly. He was quiet.

​

"Mitch?"

​

I asked. This was so sudden. I still didn't really understand why he'd brought me here in the first place. Had this been his goal the entire time? If so, then why stop?

​

"I, uh... nevermind. This was a bad idea."

​

He started his truck, turning on the lights. I felt my heart sink. Once again, I was getting to see what I wanted right before having it snatched away from me. I couldn't let him drive away without at least trying. Even if it made me a horrible person. I touched his cheek. He looked at me. His lips were trembling. He looked like he was about to cry. I realized that he might actually like me, not just want to fuck me. I hoped I was right, and it wasn't just related to his internalized homophobia, anxiety over gay sex or whatever.

​

"Can I please kiss you?"

​

I asked. It took him a long time to answer.

​

"Why?"

​

He asked, in a strangled tone. A single tear fell down his cheek and ran underneath my palm, making it wet. I wiped it away.

​

"Because I like you."

​

I said, simply. He buried his face in his hands.

​

"No you don't. You can't."

​

His voice was muffled by his hands. I wanted to kiss him to make him feel better. But, then again, that's exactly why he was crying. I was scared touching him would make him feel worse. I wanted to be more like Michael. How he'd calmed Bill down by putting his hand on Bill's shoulder when he had been so upset over his sexual inclinations being exposed to the light of day. But I was not so confident.

​

"I do. I like you a lot. I've thought about you almost every day since we left the camping trip. I wanted to hang out with you so bad. Or just to talk to you."

​

Mitch was crying, I could hear it in his voice when he replied.

​

"You don't like me like that. I know you don't."

​

Oh brother, I had my work cut out for me. Exactly why did I chase guys like this, who couldn't accept their sexuality? I suppose that's all I ever had in common with them though.

​

"I do."

​

I said.

​

"No. You have Mike."

​

"Michael has a girlfriend. And he would never date me anyway. He doesn't like me like that. He doesn't like me the way I like you."

​

Mitch looked up at me, his eyes red. He was pawing at his cheeks like his tears were made of fire, frantically trying to erase them.

​

"Do you actually like me?"

​

He asked.

​

"Is that so hard to believe? Don't I act like it?"

​

Mitch looked out the car window for a while. At nothing in particular, just trees. Finally, he turned to me.

​

"But I have a girlfriend."

​

"Well. That's okay. I never expected you to date me or some shit. I knew you were... not open about... stuff like that."

​

It was dicey trying to make sure I didn't upset him with my wording. He seemed calm though.

​

"You're actually okay with that?"

​

"Yeah. At least now I know why you didn't text me back. I thought you didn't like me anymore."

​

Mitch grimaced.

​

"I'm really sorry about that."

​

I smiled and reassured him.

​

"I wish I could talk to you, Lance. There's stuff I wish I could say, but I really can't. I just can't even say them out loud. And I have a girlfriend, so it doesn't really matter anyway. But thanks for... thanks for liking me."

​

He was about to drive off. I felt like scum, but I had to ask,

​

"Can I just kiss you one last time?"

​

I could see in his face that he was torn. I tried to explain.

​

"It would kill me to know how you felt about me and... I mean, that I didn't at least try one last time to kiss you. It made me so happy, really. And I wasn't ready for it and I didn't get to really enjoy it cause I was shocked. I don't want to plead for a kiss, so I'll stop talking now."

​

I was all out of breath. Mitch looked at me tenderly. I tried to give my best 'fuck me' eyes, but I don't think I was very good at it. He hesitated for a moment, then replied,

​

"I want to, Lance. I don't think it's a very good idea though. Cause what then?"

​

I sighed. I knew he was right, it would only make me want more.

​

The ride back to town was quiet. He looked at me a few times like he wanted to take a picture with his mind, but looked away when I looked back. I was scared this was the last time I'd ever see him. When we got back to the McDonald's parking lot, I asked him if it would be.

​

"Will I ever see you again?"

​

I said. He was quiet. I continued,

​

"Please, Mitch. Please don't tell me I won't. Even if we're just regular friends. At least give me that. Please."

​

He smiled at me, apologetically, or maybe like he understood me. I couldn't quite tell which.

​

"No."

​

I felt my heart sink.

​

"No, it won't be the last time you see me, bro. I'll hang out with you again. Tomorrow, if you want. As friends."

​

I smiled, and hugged him before I got out of his truck. He looked shocked, but recovered quickly. He didn't wave as he drove off, just nodded his head at me slightly. Almost like he didn't want to say goodbye. I understood the feeling all too well.

​

---

​

The next morning, I woke up and made some coffee. I didn't really like coffee, but I was all out of redbull, so I had it for emergencies. Without caffeine, my head splits right open. After making coffee I had a bit more energy and motivation. I put on some music (Rick James- High on Your Love; that song never failed to make me dance, although I was incredibly bad at it; but at least no one can see you in your house with the curtains drawn) and straightened my apartment, thinking, as I did so, about all the things that had happened to me recently. It was kind of crazy how things went. Sometimes it seems like things all happen at once, and then there's long periods of nothing. For months after my sexual experiences when I had gone camping with Michael and his friends (Mitch, Tanner, and Bill), nothing at all had gone on. I'd been focused on school. Michael and I had done some things, but mostly I'd been bored. Now, suddenly, everything was changing. And that scared me. Michael had gotten a girlfriend, was in a serious relationship for the first time since I'd known him. He'd told me we could no longer fool around, and yet he had jerked me off while I pretended to be asleep. I assumed it was the fact I was faking sleep that allowed him to do so; he clearly knew that I was faking, however.

​

Then there was Mitch. He gotten my number back on the camping trip after we'd hooked up, but likewise had told me we couldn't do anything ever again, citing the fact we'd been caught by Mike, and that he was terrified of being caught again. Yet, he'd gotten my number, saying he just wanted to hang out, and then had never contacted me; at least, not until we'd run into each other by chance at a clothing store the day before. That night, last night, had truly been wild, with him kissing me, admitting he liked me, and then saying we could never do anything again because he had a girlfriend. I didn't understand him at all, not any better than I understood Michael. I was terrified that we'd never hang out again, although I had to admit that he'd seemed very genuinie when he'd said that we would.

​

Speaking of numbers though, I suddenly recalled the guy I had met the day before in the bathroom of Belks, the clothing store where I'd run into Mitch. He had given me his number after a highly perplexing situation in which he'd caught me looking at his dick while he took a piss. I'd written it on my hand and, luckily, entered it into my phone before it had been completely rubbed off; although I wasn't entirely sure I had the correct number. I decided to text him.

​

'Hey, it's Lance. The guy from Belks yesterday.'

​

I hoped that would tell him who I was, but I decided to send a second text.

​

'From the bathroom.'

​

He replied right away.

​

Westley: 'Ya fag, I know who u are.'

​

He scared me. What were his plans for me, why did he want my number anyway? I wasn't sure how to respond, but I got another response,

​

Westley: 'Come meet me here.'

​

He dropped a pin for his address. I was incredibly nervous. What the hell did this redneck dude want from me?

​

---

​

When I pulled up to the parking lot, I saw a rugged looking black truck already parked. I hoped it was him. Why did every guy I liked own a truck? I pulled up next to the truck, but it was lifted. I couldn't see inside. I texted, asking if it was him. It was read, but no reply. I saw boots descend from the other side of the truck, and then the guy walked around the front of the truck, standing in front of my shitty silver car. It was him alright. Westley stood there in front of me, in all his glory, arms crossed. Blonde, eye length hair flipped up under the same green fishing cap from the day before. He was wearing some kind of hunting shirt and jeans with a big silver belt buckle with an engraving of a bull's head on it. His jaws were getting a workout; he was chewing gum. I smiled, weakly. He motioned for me to get out of the car and I did so.

​

"Hey."

​

I said, my voice cracking. He scoffed and shook his head, walking over to the other side of the car and I followed.

​

"What's up faggot?"

​

He asked me. I swallowed, saying nothing.

​

"You ever seen the Loch ness Monster?"

​

"Huh?"

​

I was confused.

​

"Have you ever. Seen. The Loch ness Monster?"

​

He repeated, enuciating clearly like I was stupid or something.

​

"No..."

​

I trailed off. I didn't understand.

​

"Well you have now!"

​

Westley crowed, pulling his jeans down and popping his fat, uncut cock out. I looked down. It was so big, and it looked heavy. I wanted to touch it.

​

"I guess you seen it before though, huh?"

​

"Well... yeah."

​

"Eh. I gotta piss."

​

The redneck said. He walked over to the grass, right where the trees started, then looked back at me.

​

"Well? You gonna watch me or what?"

​

"Oh."

​

I replied, simply. I followed him and watched as he let out a strong, ferocious piss stream.

​

"You like to watch guys piss, huh homo?"

​

"Not really..."

​

I responded.

​

"Oh, so you just wanted to see my cock then, is that it?"

​

I nodded. He had such a nice dick, and it was a lot bigger than mine. I wondered, yet again, if he'd seen my cock, and if he had, what he thought about it. He pissed long and hard, letting out a satisfied sigh as he wagged his dick, flinging droplets of pee everywhere. One landed on my jeans. I watched it soak in.

​

"Wanna suck me off, fag?"

​

I was scared, but I definitely, definitely wanted to. This cocky kid was so fucking sexy. I asked him how old he was, he just laughed.

​

"21. Yeah, I can drink. Who gives a fuck?"

​

I smiled wanly. I had just wanted to make sure he was around my age. I'd thought so, but I had wanted to make sure.

​

"You gonna suck it or what? It ain't gonna suck itself, get down there."

​

His attitude made me feel low, like nothing. It made my cock erect. My dick poked in my jeans, rubbing up against the rough fabric. I wasn't wearing any boxers, was I?

​

That was the least important thing on my mind as I got down on my knees before Westley. The most important thing was the big, fat, flaccid cock that hung above me, poking out of the opening of his jeans underneath the big belt buckle, It was like a god that I kneeled before in worship.

​

Westley pulled on his dick, getting it harder, shoving it into my face. I opened my mouth and put his cock inside of it. It felt strange to be sucking on an uncut cock. He slapped the side of my head softly playfully.

​

"Pull the foreskin down, dummy. With your mouth."

​

I did so. I was met with a deluge of sticky precum that leaked into my mouth. The redneck who towered above me like a Roman statue grabbed my head and forcefully shoved me down on his hard cock. It filled my mouth, rammed down my throat and made me gag, to which the guy responded with a very lustful

​

"Awhuh yeahhhh."

​

As he thrusted his huge dick in and out my throat my forehead kept smashing into his metal belt buckle. It hurt. I pulled myself off of his cock and looked up at him, gasping for breath, slime dripping from my mouth. His expression was one of disappointment.

​

"Can you unbuckle your belt?" I asked, "That hurts."

​

He snickered meanly, but did what I asked, then grabbed the back of my head and slammed his cock down my throat again. I heaved as it forced my esophagus to expand. I heard him groan like an animal, a deep rumble. As he continued to fuck my throat, I slipped my hand down my jeans and began to jerk myself off. I figured a guy like this wasn't gonna be interested in my little dick anyway. Westley grabbed the bill of his hat and turned it backwards, using his palm to swipe his blonde hair out of his eyes. He had that real determined look on his face, biting his lips.

​

"I'm gonna cum down your throat, you little faggot. Straight down it."

​

I jerked myself off faster as he skull fucked me like a jackhammer. I felt like I was gonna puke; every gag made Westley moan in pleasure.

​

"Hah, yeah that feels good. Good boy."

​

I came right as he called me a good boy. I don't know why. Something about being called that made me so horny. It's impossible to communicate. Westley slid his cock down my esophagus, straight to the base. His curly pubic hairs filled my nostrils. He hit the back of my skull and came.

​

It felt like I was gonna suffocate. I couldn't breathe, yet he just kept cumming and cumming. Just when I thought it was going to end, another thick load of cum would shoot down my throat. After what seemed like hours, he pulled out slightly, letting me catch a breath from around the thick, softening cock still lodged down my throat. Westley winked at me. Damn, he was so cute.

​

"Alright guy, you ready?"

​

I tried to say 'huh?' but he slammed his dick down my throat again. Was he gonna cum for a second time? I didn't think I could handle anymore. I felt a hot liquid going down my throat with extreme force. What the fuck was going on? I couldn't breathe. I suddenly realized what was happening: Westley was pissing straight down my throat and into my stomach!

​

I shoved myself against his body with all my might, dislodging his immense cock. I fell onto the ground. Westley kept pissing, drenching my clothes. I sputtered in protest. The urine smashed into my eyes with unbelievable force, soaked my shirt. I tried to get up; the ground as muddy with piss.

​

"Woo!"

​

Westley hooted. I got up and stumbled back into his truck with a slam. Westley shook his dick and stuffed it back into his jeans, bucking that big, metal belt buckle.

​

"What the fuck?!"

​

I yelled. The guy just grinned.

​

"Thought you liked it, homo. Isn't that what gays like?"

​

He spat his gum out. It hurled through the air and stuck to my forehead. I felt stupid. Ridiculous. ke garbage. Like I'd just been stomped on, and the worst part is that my dick was hard again. I couldn't explain it, I didn't understand why being treated so badly made me so fucking horny but I didn't even really know this guy and I wasn't going to deal with it. Without a word, I walked back over to my car and started it, put it in reverse and backed out.

​

There was a slam in my car. I looked to my left to see Westley, his entire demeanor changed. He looked scared. He motioned for me to roll down the window and I did.

​

"Wait! Wait, man. I'm... I'm sorry. Please don't leave."

​

I was shocked. What happened to the cocky guy who'd just degraded me so forcefully? Why did he even care what I did?"

​

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "please. I didn't mean to... to upset you. Please. What's your name, bud?"

​

"Lance."

​

I said, timidly. I hadn't even realized he didn't know my name. He stuck out a broad, tanned hand. A worker's hand. I shook it.

​

"Hey, bro. I'm Westley. My friends call me West. You can do that if you want. If you wanna be my friend, or whatever. Whatever."

​

He was clearly very uncomfortable with what he was saying, with apologizing too. I could tell he felt bad. I smiled at him. Of course, he didn't know how horny what he'd just done had made me. He probably wouldn't have apologized.

​

"Hey West."

​

I said, trying my best to sound cocky, like him.

​

Westley grinned.

​

"Hey Lance. So... just text me then. I'd really like for you to suck me again, loser. We can hang out too, if you want. I don't mind it. Being your friend, I mean. Or whatever."

​

"Okay."

​

I replied. West turned his hat back around. He smacked the bill with his middle finger and walked off.

​

On the drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. Did West really wanna be my friend? Or did he just want my throat again? He had seemed pretty genuine, though. He'd seemed like he felt bad for upsetting me.

​

I pulled up to a red light, still lost in thought, and happened to glance over and see a red van next to me. Inside were Bill and Tanner.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead. I could tell from the way he'd texted me that Mitch was angry. I could guess what it was about. Before I could even call him, I got another text,

​

"Matter of fact, just meet me. We need to talk."

​

My chest vibrated. Before walking out the door, I noticed the smeared pen markings on my hand and entered them into my phone, hoping I was reading them correctly. They were partially erased, so one of them could have been a '9' or a '4'. I wasn't sure how to spell the guy's name either, but I guessed it was 'Westley', and not 'Wesley'. There'd been a 'T' in there, right?

​

We had planned to meet at the McDonald's near the shopping plaza I'd seen Mitch at earlier. My heart was pounding as I walked in the door. I scanned, but he wasn't there yet, so I just sat down in a booth in the corner, away from everyone. Fifteen minutes later, and just as I was about to get up and order some food, I saw a familiar face (and muscular body) walk in through the door. My breath caught in my throat a little. He didn't look mad, but that didn't mean he wasn't. I gave a little half wave and he saw me and walked over and sat down across from me. He just stared at me for a second, like he was trying to read something in my face. I felt like I was being interrogated despite neither of us having spoken a word. I also couldn't help but notice how attractive he was, as always. The cute, short brown hair that was cropped closely on the sides (and back) of the head, his dark brown eyes and darker eyebrows, his wide jaw and ears that were just a little too small for his face. And, of course, his toned, muscled arms. Finally, he shook his head, and said to me,

​

"What the fuck, Lance? What was that shit you pulled?"

​

When I started to talk, it sounded like I was squeaking and I had to clear my throat to continue.

​

"What do you mean?"

​

I asked.

​

"Mitch has told me so much about you? What the hell was that? I've never told you a thing about her. That sounded like a fucking threat!"

​

Mitch hissed. I was scared. I'd literally never seen Mitch angry in my entire life. Did he hate me now? Had I blown it?

​

"I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean for it to sound like that. It was just a joke. I wasn't threatening you. I'd never do that. I like you, Mitch."

​

His eyes softened. He played with his fingers for a second before continuing, in that deep, commanding voice of his,

​

"Well. I'm sorry, Lance. Sorry I didn't text you. I wanted to."

​

"It's okay."

​

I replied, sounding more timid and pathetic than I'd wanted to. I wished I was more masculine, more like Mitch. Or Michael. Or anyone. I just wished I wasn't so damn pathetic.

​

"Look..." Mitch sighed, "you wanna get out of here? Maybe we can go somewhere."

​

"Can we get something to eat?"

​

I asked, realizing I was starved. I hadn't eaten all day. Mitch raised a brow.

​

"We're at McDonald's, bro."

​

We got burgers and ate them in his truck. He asked where I wanted to go and I shrugged. I had no clue. I was wondering what he had planned, it seemed like he'd changed track so quickly. He took a swig of coke and let out a long, deep belch. I felt my dick twitch. Damn, he was cute. He looked at me, a drop of coke on his lip, eyes wide and innocent. I wanted to kiss him so badly. My face turned red and he turned away, looking out the car window for a moment. At length, he sighed and slapped his thighs, saying,

​

"Well. You wanna just drive around?"

​

I nodded. He smiled at me kindly. I was elated to finally be with him again. I had given up thinking we'd ever see each other again a long time ago. Out of the three guys I'd met on the camping trip, he was the one I'd liked the most. Bill and Tanner were great as well, and very attractive, but Mitch had been so cool to me. He'd always treated me like we were bros, and had never made fun of me or teased me like the other guys. He'd only ever tried to help me. I liked him a lot.

​

He looked so handsome driving his truck, especially as he put his arm around the seat behind me when he turned to look back when he reversed to back out of the parking lot. There was something so sexy and masculine about that. Unfortunately, he took his arm away real quick, and it never so much as brushed against me. The way I figured, he was probably faithful to his girl but he liked being around me. He said before, back at camp, that we could never hook up ever again because it was too much of a risk. Well, that risk was compounded now that he had a girlfriend, so obviously we wouldn't be doing anything tonight. But just being around the guy made me happy, it made me feel good. Maybe Mitch felt the same way? Then again, maybe not. Maybe he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't fuck things up for him and wanted to make me feel cared about or something so I wouldn't tell her what we'd done. I really hoped that wasn't the case, because it would have hurt me a lot. Especially for him to believe whatsoever that I'd EVER do anything to mess up his life! I simply was not that kind of person. I cared about him, although I didn't really know him super well. I wanted him to be happy, and I was glad he'd realized I hadn't meant anything by my stupid comment.

​

Driving through the town at night with Mitch was kind of surreal, and also serene. We lived in a small town, so there weren't many people out, although it was only about 9pm, and the neon lights trailed through his dark truck windows as we cut through the black. We turned onto the highway, a loop that went around town. Mitch looked at me and shot me an evil grin. I didn't have much time to wonder what it was for– almost immediately he slammed the gas pedal to the floor and sped his truck up to well over 80 miles per hour. My heart revved up till it was going just about as fast as the automobile. I started to feel sick. I begged him to slow down, said we were gonna get caught and he'd get a ticket, but he just smiled maliciously and pointed to his ear, saying,

​

"Can't hear ya, bud!"

​

I felt like I was gonna puke. I doubled over, and he slowed down immediately; pulling over onto the shoulder, he jumped out of his car and ran faster than I'd ever seen anyone run in my life. He slammed the door open and asked if I was gonna throw up.

​

"Just give me a minute."

​

I pled. He stood helplessly in the tall grass next to me as the cicadas chirped in the woods behind us. My stomach started to settle. I noticed his sneakers were wet from night dew, and the bottom of his jeans. I looked up at him. Man, he was cute!

​

"You good now?"

​

He asked. I nodded. He stepped closer and looked me in the face, as if trying to discern whether this were true, whether it was safe to shut the door or if i might puke all over his interior. I did my best to look okay, but the manner in which he looked at me made me feel really strange. I wanted to kiss him very badly. And the length of time and way he was looking at me made me think he might want the same thing. I studied his face. He was so handsome. So masculine. So nice looking. A gentleman. I wanted to reach out and touch him. I swallowed. His lips parted a little. I could see his eyes go from one side of my face to the other. I saw him look up at my hair and then down at my lips and back to my eyes. Suddenly, he pushed me back into my seat, shut the door, and went and hopped into the driver's seat and took off.

​

"I know where we can go."

​

He said. We whistled down the dark highway.

​

---

​

We pulled down a side road and parked. There was nothing here, nothing at all but some woods and the dirt road ahead and behind us, going off into nowhere, and it was pitch black but for a pale moon when Mitch turned the headlights off. I was scared a car would come through and hit us, not being able to see his truck.

​

"What are we doing?"

​

I asked.

​

"I thought we could just sit and talk."

​

Mitch replied.

​

"About what?"

​

"Dunno."

​

I looked over at him. I couldn't see him that well in the darkness. He looked like he was breathing hard. He drew his lips together, tightly.

​

"Are you--"

​

I wasn't even able to finish what I was saying before he grabbed the side of my head, clumsily, and kissed me. His finger slid awkwardly into my ear. I could feel his teeth bite my bottom lip lightly, he teased me with his tongue. I could his dark, thick long eyelashes in the moonlight. My eyes were still open in surprise when he broke the kiss and turned away from me, covering his face with his hand and exhaling, loudly. He was quiet.

​

"Mitch?"

​

I asked. This was so sudden. I still didn't really understand why he'd brought me here in the first place. Had this been his goal the entire time? If so, then why stop?

​

"I, uh... nevermind. This was a bad idea."

​

He started his truck, turning on the lights. I felt my heart sink. Once again, I was getting to see what I wanted right before having it snatched away from me. I couldn't let him drive away without at least trying. Even if it made me a horrible person. I touched his cheek. He looked at me. His lips were trembling. He looked like he was about to cry. I realized that he might actually like me, not just want to fuck me. I hoped I was right, and it wasn't just related to his internalized homophobia, anxiety over gay sex or whatever.

​

"Can I please kiss you?"

​

I asked. It took him a long time to answer.

​

"Why?"

​

He asked, in a strangled tone. A single tear fell down his cheek and ran underneath my palm, making it wet. I wiped it away.

​

"Because I like you."

​

I said, simply. He buried his face in his hands.

​

"No you don't. You can't."

​

His voice was muffled by his hands. I wanted to kiss him to make him feel better. But, then again, that's exactly why he was crying. I was scared touching him would make him feel worse. I wanted to be more like Michael. How he'd calmed Bill down by putting his hand on Bill's shoulder when he had been so upset over his sexual inclinations being exposed to the light of day. But I was not so confident.

​

"I do. I like you a lot. I've thought about you almost every day since we left the camping trip. I wanted to hang out with you so bad. Or just to talk to you."

​

Mitch was crying, I could hear it in his voice when he replied.

​

"You don't like me like that. I know you don't."

​

Oh brother, I had my work cut out for me. Exactly why did I chase guys like this, who couldn't accept their sexuality? I suppose that's all I ever had in common with them though.

​

"I do."

​

I said.

​

"No. You have Mike."

​

"Michael has a girlfriend. And he would never date me anyway. He doesn't like me like that. He doesn't like me the way I like you."

​

Mitch looked up at me, his eyes red. He was pawing at his cheeks like his tears were made of fire, frantically trying to erase them.

​

"Do you actually like me?"

​

He asked.

​

"Is that so hard to believe? Don't I act like it?"

​

Mitch looked out the car window for a while. At nothing in particular, just trees. Finally, he turned to me.

​

"But I have a girlfriend."

​

"Well. That's okay. I never expected you to date me or some shit. I knew you were... not open about... stuff like that."

​

It was dicey trying to make sure I didn't upset him with my wording. He seemed calm though.

​

"You're actually okay with that?"

​

"Yeah. At least now I know why you didn't text me back. I thought you didn't like me anymore."

​

Mitch grimaced.

​

"I'm really sorry about that."

​

I smiled and reassured him.

​

"I wish I could talk to you, Lance. There's stuff I wish I could say, but I really can't. I just can't even say them out loud. And I have a girlfriend, so it doesn't really matter anyway. But thanks for... thanks for liking me."

​

He was about to drive off. I felt like scum, but I had to ask,

​

"Can I just kiss you one last time?"

​

I could see in his face that he was torn. I tried to explain.

​

"It would kill me to know how you felt about me and... I mean, that I didn't at least try one last time to kiss you. It made me so happy, really. And I wasn't ready for it and I didn't get to really enjoy it cause I was shocked. I don't want to plead for a kiss, so I'll stop talking now."

​

I was all out of breath. Mitch looked at me tenderly. I tried to give my best 'fuck me' eyes, but I don't think I was very good at it. He hesitated for a moment, then replied,

​

"I want to, Lance. I don't think it's a very good idea though. Cause what then?"

​

I sighed. I knew he was right, it would only make me want more.

​

The ride back to town was quiet. He looked at me a few times like he wanted to take a picture with his mind, but looked away when I looked back. I was scared this was the last time I'd ever see him. When we got back to the McDonald's parking lot, I asked him if it would be.

​

"Will I ever see you again?"

​

I said. He was quiet. I continued,

​

"Please, Mitch. Please don't tell me I won't. Even if we're just regular friends. At least give me that. Please."

​

He smiled at me, apologetically, or maybe like he understood me. I couldn't quite tell which.

​

"No."

​

I felt my heart sink.

​

"No, it won't be the last time you see me, bro. I'll hang out with you again. Tomorrow, if you want. As friends."

​

I smiled, and hugged him before I got out of his truck. He looked shocked, but recovered quickly. He didn't wave as he drove off, just nodded his head at me slightly. Almost like he didn't want to say goodbye. I understood the feeling all too well.

​

---

​

The next morning, I woke up and made some coffee. I didn't really like coffee, but I was all out of redbull, so I had it for emergencies. Without caffeine, my head splits right open. After making coffee I had a bit more energy and motivation. I put on some music (Rick James- High on Your Love; that song never failed to make me dance, although I was incredibly bad at it; but at least no one can see you in your house with the curtains drawn) and straightened my apartment, thinking, as I did so, about all the things that had happened to me recently. It was kind of crazy how things went. Sometimes it seems like things all happen at once, and then there's long periods of nothing. For months after my sexual experiences when I had gone camping with Michael and his friends (Mitch, Tanner, and Bill), nothing at all had gone on. I'd been focused on school. Michael and I had done some things, but mostly I'd been bored. Now, suddenly, everything was changing. And that scared me. Michael had gotten a girlfriend, was in a serious relationship for the first time since I'd known him. He'd told me we could no longer fool around, and yet he had jerked me off while I pretended to be asleep. I assumed it was the fact I was faking sleep that allowed him to do so; he clearly knew that I was faking, however.

​

Then there was Mitch. He gotten my number back on the camping trip after we'd hooked up, but likewise had told me we couldn't do anything ever again, citing the fact we'd been caught by Mike, and that he was terrified of being caught again. Yet, he'd gotten my number, saying he just wanted to hang out, and then had never contacted me; at least, not until we'd run into each other by chance at a clothing store the day before. That night, last night, had truly been wild, with him kissing me, admitting he liked me, and then saying we could never do anything again because he had a girlfriend. I didn't understand him at all, not any better than I understood Michael. I was terrified that we'd never hang out again, although I had to admit that he'd seemed very genuinie when he'd said that we would.

​

Speaking of numbers though, I suddenly recalled the guy I had met the day before in the bathroom of Belks, the clothing store where I'd run into Mitch. He had given me his number after a highly perplexing situation in which he'd caught me looking at his dick while he took a piss. I'd written it on my hand and, luckily, entered it into my phone before it had been completely rubbed off; although I wasn't entirely sure I had the correct number. I decided to text him.

​

'Hey, it's Lance. The guy from Belks yesterday.'

​

I hoped that would tell him who I was, but I decided to send a second text.

​

'From the bathroom.'

​

He replied right away.

​

Westley: 'Ya fag, I know who u are.'

​

He scared me. What were his plans for me, why did he want my number anyway? I wasn't sure how to respond, but I got another response,

​

Westley: 'Come meet me here.'

​

He dropped a pin for his address. I was incredibly nervous. What the hell did this redneck dude want from me?

​

---

​

When I pulled up to the parking lot, I saw a rugged looking black truck already parked. I hoped it was him. Why did every guy I liked own a truck? I pulled up next to the truck, but it was lifted. I couldn't see inside. I texted, asking if it was him. It was read, but no reply. I saw boots descend from the other side of the truck, and then the guy walked around the front of the truck, standing in front of my shitty silver car. It was him alright. Westley stood there in front of me, in all his glory, arms crossed. Blonde, eye length hair flipped up under the same green fishing cap from the day before. He was wearing some kind of hunting shirt and jeans with a big silver belt buckle with an engraving of a bull's head on it. His jaws were getting a workout; he was chewing gum. I smiled, weakly. He motioned for me to get out of the car and I did so.

​

"Hey."

​

I said, my voice cracking. He scoffed and shook his head, walking over to the other side of the car and I followed.

​

"What's up faggot?"

​

He asked me. I swallowed, saying nothing.

​

"You ever seen the Loch ness Monster?"

​

"Huh?"

​

I was confused.

​

"Have you ever. Seen. The Loch ness Monster?"

​

He repeated, enuciating clearly like I was stupid or something.

​

"No..."

​

I trailed off. I didn't understand.

​

"Well you have now!"

​

Westley crowed, pulling his jeans down and popping his fat, uncut cock out. I looked down. It was so big, and it looked heavy. I wanted to touch it.

​

"I guess you seen it before though, huh?"

​

"Well... yeah."

​

"Eh. I gotta piss."

​

The redneck said. He walked over to the grass, right where the trees started, then looked back at me.

​

"Well? You gonna watch me or what?"

​

"Oh."

​

I replied, simply. I followed him and watched as he let out a strong, ferocious piss stream.

​

"You like to watch guys piss, huh homo?"

​

"Not really..."

​

I responded.

​

"Oh, so you just wanted to see my cock then, is that it?"

​

I nodded. He had such a nice dick, and it was a lot bigger than mine. I wondered, yet again, if he'd seen my cock, and if he had, what he thought about it. He pissed long and hard, letting out a satisfied sigh as he wagged his dick, flinging droplets of pee everywhere. One landed on my jeans. I watched it soak in.

​

"Wanna suck me off, fag?"

​

I was scared, but I definitely, definitely wanted to. This cocky kid was so fucking sexy. I asked him how old he was, he just laughed.

​

"21. Yeah, I can drink. Who gives a fuck?"

​

I smiled wanly. I had just wanted to make sure he was around my age. I'd thought so, but I had wanted to make sure.

​

"You gonna suck it or what? It ain't gonna suck itself, get down there."

​

His attitude made me feel low, like nothing. It made my cock erect. My dick poked in my jeans, rubbing up against the rough fabric. I wasn't wearing any boxers, was I?

​

That was the least important thing on my mind as I got down on my knees before Westley. The most important thing was the big, fat, flaccid cock that hung above me, poking out of the opening of his jeans underneath the big belt buckle, It was like a god that I kneeled before in worship.

​

Westley pulled on his dick, getting it harder, shoving it into my face. I opened my mouth and put his cock inside of it. It felt strange to be sucking on an uncut cock. He slapped the side of my head softly playfully.

​

"Pull the foreskin down, dummy. With your mouth."

​

I did so. I was met with a deluge of sticky precum that leaked into my mouth. The redneck who towered above me like a Roman statue grabbed my head and forcefully shoved me down on his hard cock. It filled my mouth, rammed down my throat and made me gag, to which the guy responded with a very lustful

​

"Awhuh yeahhhh."

​

As he thrusted his huge dick in and out my throat my forehead kept smashing into his metal belt buckle. It hurt. I pulled myself off of his cock and looked up at him, gasping for breath, slime dripping from my mouth. His expression was one of disappointment.

​

"Can you unbuckle your belt?" I asked, "That hurts."

​

He snickered meanly, but did what I asked, then grabbed the back of my head and slammed his cock down my throat again. I heaved as it forced my esophagus to expand. I heard him groan like an animal, a deep rumble. As he continued to fuck my throat, I slipped my hand down my jeans and began to jerk myself off. I figured a guy like this wasn't gonna be interested in my little dick anyway. Westley grabbed the bill of his hat and turned it backwards, using his palm to swipe his blonde hair out of his eyes. He had that real determined look on his face, biting his lips.

​

"I'm gonna cum down your throat, you little faggot. Straight down it."

​

I jerked myself off faster as he skull fucked me like a jackhammer. I felt like I was gonna puke; every gag made Westley moan in pleasure.

​

"Hah, yeah that feels good. Good boy."

​

I came right as he called me a good boy. I don't know why. Something about being called that made me so horny. It's impossible to communicate. Westley slid his cock down my esophagus, straight to the base. His curly pubic hairs filled my nostrils. He hit the back of my skull and came.

​

It felt like I was gonna suffocate. I couldn't breathe, yet he just kept cumming and cumming. Just when I thought it was going to end, another thick load of cum would shoot down my throat. After what seemed like hours, he pulled out slightly, letting me catch a breath from around the thick, softening cock still lodged down my throat. Westley winked at me. Damn, he was so cute.

​

"Alright guy, you ready?"

​

I tried to say 'huh?' but he slammed his dick down my throat again. Was he gonna cum for a second time? I didn't think I could handle anymore. I felt a hot liquid going down my throat with extreme force. What the fuck was going on? I couldn't breathe. I suddenly realized what was happening: Westley was pissing straight down my throat and into my stomach!

​

I shoved myself against his body with all my might, dislodging his immense cock. I fell onto the ground. Westley kept pissing, drenching my clothes. I sputtered in protest. The urine smashed into my eyes with unbelievable force, soaked my shirt. I tried to get up; the ground as muddy with piss.

​

"Woo!"

​

Westley hooted. I got up and stumbled back into his truck with a slam. Westley shook his dick and stuffed it back into his jeans, bucking that big, metal belt buckle.

​

"What the fuck?!"

​

I yelled. The guy just grinned.

​

"Thought you liked it, homo. Isn't that what gays like?"

​

He spat his gum out. It hurled through the air and stuck to my forehead. I felt stupid. Ridiculous. ke garbage. Like I'd just been stomped on, and the worst part is that my dick was hard again. I couldn't explain it, I didn't understand why being treated so badly made me so fucking horny but I didn't even really know this guy and I wasn't going to deal with it. Without a word, I walked back over to my car and started it, put it in reverse and backed out.

​

There was a slam in my car. I looked to my left to see Westley, his entire demeanor changed. He looked scared. He motioned for me to roll down the window and I did.

​

"Wait! Wait, man. I'm... I'm sorry. Please don't leave."

​

I was shocked. What happened to the cocky guy who'd just degraded me so forcefully? Why did he even care what I did?"

​

"I'm sorry," he repeated, "please. I didn't mean to... to upset you. Please. What's your name, bud?"

​

"Lance."

​

I said, timidly. I hadn't even realized he didn't know my name. He stuck out a broad, tanned hand. A worker's hand. I shook it.

​

"Hey, bro. I'm Westley. My friends call me West. You can do that if you want. If you wanna be my friend, or whatever. Whatever."

​

He was clearly very uncomfortable with what he was saying, with apologizing too. I could tell he felt bad. I smiled at him. Of course, he didn't know how horny what he'd just done had made me. He probably wouldn't have apologized.

​

"Hey West."

​

I said, trying my best to sound cocky, like him.

​

Westley grinned.

​

"Hey Lance. So... just text me then. I'd really like for you to suck me again, loser. We can hang out too, if you want. I don't mind it. Being your friend, I mean. Or whatever."

​

"Okay."

​

I replied. West turned his hat back around. He smacked the bill with his middle finger and walked off.

​

On the drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. Did West really wanna be my friend? Or did he just want my throat again? He had seemed pretty genuine, though. He'd seemed like he felt bad for upsetting me.

​

I pulled up to a red light, still lost in thought, and happened to glance over and see a red van next to me. Inside were Bill and Tanner.

​

​

​

This story is a continuation of a previous story called Friend and Master, a sequel of sorts, picking up with Lance's life several months after the camping trip event described in the seven chapters of the previously mentioned story. While having read those chapters will make reading this story richer, it isn't necessary to have done so. Enjoy!

​

I opened my bedroom window and let the smoke out. Nasty habit I'd picked up from Michael– both the cigarettes and smoking them inside. It was starting to get cool out. I watched the sunrise and yawned, lazily scratching my chest through my shirt. I really needed to kick this thing– staying up all night and sleeping all day, I mean. Thankfully it was the weekend, otherwise I'd only have gotten about three hours of sleep before my first class of the day.

​

I looked at my phone again. Another bad habit, constantly checking to see if Michael had replied to me. Honestly, I was stressed out because of something he'd told me: Michael had a girlfriend. I don't handle change well, I never have. I like everything in order, all the same. I never even let dishes stay in the sink for more than hour or leave my clothes on the bathroom floor while I take a shower. And Michael's relationship was a big change, something new. He'd never been in a serious relationship before, mostly flings and one night stands; maybe that's why we were always so close, because I was a constant for him, as he was for me. The girls came and went, but I was his buddy. Ten years of friendship, we'd been friends since we were twelve. I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty scared. Already, we'd been hanging out less than usual, I suppose because he'd been meeting up with this girl; Carrie was her name. I was worried he'd stop hanging out with me now, and we'd gradually drift away, stop being friends altogether– and that, I could not stand for. I loved Mike, but I could share him with this girl. I'd always known he was straight, despite the sex on our camping trip a couple months ago. I had never really entertained the idea that he could love me, and only me, in the way I wanted; even if he HAD told me he loved me and given me the most passionate sex of my life. I already knew it would retain that status, no matter what else I did during my lifetime.

​

No, I never expected him to be IN love with me, or want a relationship, but I had always thought our friendship would stay the same. And now it was changing. I even wondered if he might ditch me altogether, just stop speaking to me totally. I didn't mind that he was in a relationship. Was I a little jealous? Yeah, I assumed we'd stop hooking up now. In the months since the camping trip, things had mostly returned to normal, but once in a while Mike would tell me to suck his cock, order me around, or fuck me. He had even given me a blow job once more, after he'd felt bad for treating me especially cruel, flushing my head down the toilet. It had reminded me of high school, when bullies used to give me swirlies, and I had almost started to cry at the thought that he was now enacting upon me what he used to save me from. He felt awful, and sucked my dick to make up for it. I had warned him before I came that time, but he swallowed anyway.

​

I didn't expect for him to continue doing those things with me. Sure, I'd have liked it, but all I really wanted was my best friend. But my best friend was busy now, all the time, and I was alone. I sighed, closing the window. I decided it was time to get some sleep. I stripped down to my boxers and got in bed, pulling up the covers.

​

I'd just started to drift off when a little 'ding' alerted me to the fact I'd received a message. I groaned, but decided to check it. I got halfway out of bed and unlocked my phone, bleary eyed.

​

Mike-o: Sure man. Hey, let's hang out this evening, yeah? I'll come over around like 2. K?

​

Falling asleep after that sort of felt like being lifted up into heaven while really fast paced trance music played and I swirled both higher and deeper into unconsciousness.

​

---

​

When I awoke it was 12 p.m. I was far too nervous to sit around and wait for two hours for Michael to come over, so I got into my shitty little silver (more like grey) sedan, and went to the shopping plaza nearby. There were several outlets all bunched together that often went out of business, only for a new one to come along and snap up the location. I went into a clothing store, Belk's, just to browse. I didn't intend on actually buying anything.

​

I was looking through some shirts on the clearance rack when I saw, not too far from me, the brown hair and strong jaw of someone I recognized. It was Mitch. I wasn't sure if I should go over to him and say hello or not. After all, he hadn't texted me. He'd gotten my number months ago, when we were on that camping trip, but had never tried to contact me. Maybe he just didn't want to talk to me. He looked up. I could see the surprise on his face. I decided to set myself up for rejection and embarrassment, and walked over to him.

​

"Hey."

​

I said. He was stammering as he responded, in that deep, masculine voice of his.

​

"Er... hey. Hey man, what's up? How you been?"

​

He looked pretty much the same. Maybe he'd just recently gotten a haircut, cause it was shorter than I remembered. Then again, my memory wasn't really the best.

​

"Good. I've been good."

​

It was awkwardly silent for a moment. I just wasn't sure what to say. I wanted to ask him to text me, or ask him why he hadn't, but I just couldn't bring myself to do so. I was scared of being rejected. I had really missed him, but I didn't know what to do.

​

"Hey, uh... I'm really sorry I didn't text you, man. I wanted to. I did. And... I will. I promise."

​

I blushed and smiled.

​

"It's okay, Mitch. It's okay. I really hope you will... I wanted to talk to you."

​

"And I will. I will, bro. Just don't be mad at me. Please."

​

I was a little confused as to why he was apologizing so much. Mad at him for what? For not texting me? He looked way too sorry for it to simply be that. He looked like he was begging me for something. But it all became clear in a moment, as a thin, gorgeous blonde woman walked over and grabbed his arm and said hello to me.

​

"Hi," she said, reaching out a hand, "I'm Ashley."

​

I shook her hand. She was wearing expensive, silver jewelry.

​

"I'm Lance. Mitch has told me so much about you. It's nice to finally meet you."

​

Lance's face was the shade of a pumpkin. I immediately regretted what I'd said. I wasn't even sure why I'd said it, but I hoped he didn't take it the wrong way. What was the right way, though?

​

She and I made small talk, Mitch just stood there quietly. When Ashley started to rub her boyfriend's hand and lean into him, I quickly excused myself, saying I had somewhere to be. I marched on over to the bathroom and locked myself into a stall. I felt like crying, but just couldn't. I was emotionally overwhelmed. Why did every guy I liked have a girlfriend now? That was probably my fault... I certainly had a type.

​

Suddenly seeing Mitch after having all but forgotten about him, plus the emotional rollercoaster of my best friend telling me that he was now in a relationship; my fear of Mike abandoning me, then seeing Mitch and immediately being slapped in the face by the fact that he, too, had a girlfriend, was totally overwhelming for me. I was alone. I had no one.

​

I started to cry, finally, when I began to recall that day in the woods with Mitch when he had asked to compare dicks, and then asked me to suck him off. It had really shocked me. That was the first time I had ever sucked dick. He had been rough, but he'd been really nice to me as well. He was probably the nicest guy there, he really treated me like a little brother. He was even nicer to me than Michael, probably. When he wasn't horny, Mitch treated me like I really mattered to him. I couldn't stop crying, I'd liked him so much. I guess I knew, now, why he'd never texted me back. And, honestly, he probably wasn't really planning on texting me, he'd just wanted to make sure I didn't say anything or make a scene in front of his girlfriend. Fuck, I hated him. Who the hell did he think he was? Why didn't he realize that was something I'd never, ever do? I grabbed some toilet paper and used it to dry my eyes and tried to calm down, forcing myself to breathe in for five seconds and out for eight. I'd seen a YouTube video saying it would fix anxiety.

​

I realized I had to pee. Good thing I was inside a bathroom, huh? I left the stall and walked over to a urinal. I almost went back to the stall when I realized what I'd just done had made no sense; after all, one could piss in the toilet just as well as in the urinal, but walking back didn't make any sense either, so I just unbuttoned my jeans and pulled my dick out.

​

Just then, I heard somebody walk in. I realized, too late, that these urinals had no dividers between them and, what's worse, there was only two of them. According to the unspoken rules of the men's bathroom, the guy should have gone into one of the stalls. But he didn't. I saw him rock right up to the urinal next to me out of the corner of my eye. I tried to ignore him and concentrate on peeing, but I had stage fright, which surely wasn't helped when he slapped me on the back and asked me what was up. I looked over. The guy was taller than me, around my age, with eye length dirty blonde hair that kind of flipped up at the ends. He was wearing a dark green fishing hat, with a big fish hook on the bill, and was clearly a 'country' type of guy, a redneck. And not shy at all. He grinned at me and I could hear him start to piss, heavily. It sounded like a hose spraying a concentrated stream into the porcelain of the urinal. I looked away. I could feel how hot my face was.

​

I tried to concentrate on peeing and a little bit dribbled out. I felt completely humiliated, like a weird loser compared to this manly, alpha dude pissing next to me while I couldn't cause I was so ashamed. When I looked back, he was looking the other direction and whistling, so I decided to risk a peek. I wanted to see if he had the goods to back up his alpha attitude. When would I ever get the chance to do this again? I glanced down. He was uncut, and had a very big dick. It was sort of like a huge finger, because you couldn't tell at all where his head started beneath his foreskin. Only his dick was outside of the top of his light, bleached jeans; his balls were still inside, and a thick shock of light blonde pubic hair crowned his penis. I wished I was brave enough to ask him to suck it, but that would be dangerous.

​

"What are you staring at, homo?"

​

I immediately froze. How had I let myself look for so long? I was probably gonna get my ass beat now, and not in the way I'd have liked. But, looking up, the redneck guy didn't really seem angry at all. If anything, he seemed amused, like he thought me staring at his dick was hilarious. I said absolutely nothing.

​

"Hey, fag. You can keep looking if you want."

​

I felt paralyzed. I couldn't move. I couldn't even put my dick back in my pants. I felt like an absolute idiot. I felt like I was underneath a magnifying glass. The blonde dude just smirked at me. What the hell was going on?

​

"Wanna touch it?"

​

I looked back down. He wasn't peeing anymore, just shaking his dick at me. He slapped it against his palm, it sounded heavy. All I could do was stare. It was incredibly thick. Massive. I could see what was either precum or piss leaking out of his thick foreskin. I wanted to drop to my knees and lick it like a pathetic dog.

​

The door opened and he shoved his cock back into his jeans and walked away. An older man entered one of the stalls. I put my dick away. Fuck, I'd missed my chance, this guy was hot as hell and had clearly been down. Had he seen my dick? Did he think it was small?

​

I went to wash my hands, but realized that there was only one sink, and the country guy was using it. I stood behind him, waiting, like a creep. He saw me in the mirror, and asked,

​

"The fuck do you want?"

​

I cleared my throat, and responded,

​

"Uh... I need to wash my hands."

​

The guy scoffed. He turned the faucet off and grabbed some paper towels, drying his hands and throwing them into the trash. He turned around and looked at me, and used his middle finger to flick the bill of his cap, making it jump up on his head. His hair fell into his eyes. He left. I didn't really understand why he'd done that. Did it mean something? Was it to let me know we were cool? Was it some kind of cocky challenge? I didn't get it.

​

After washing my hands, I walked through the store for a few more minutes before deciding I didn't really want anything there and I should just go home. I was walking towards the exit when somebody grabbed my shoulder. I turned to see the country guy from the bathroom earlier.

​

"Oh... I'm... I'm sorry."

​

I stammered. I was scared he might be mad at me or something. He almost always seemed to have a totally blank expression on his face, at least since I'd met him.

​

"Yeah, whatever. You want my number?"

​

He asked. I was surprised. And excited. I wondered what he wanted. I nodded.

​

"Then get your phone out, dumbass."

​

I took my phone out. It wouldn't turn on. It was dead.

​

"It's dead..."

​

I reported.

​

"Got a pen?"

​

I checked my pockets. Nope. I felt my heart sinking. Maybe I wouldn't get to see what he wanted after all. The guy reached toward me. I felt my breath catch in my throat. Then his hand went past me, and he grabbed a pen from a display behind me and slapped it onto my chest. I picked it up from the tile floor after he let it fall. He told me his number and I wrote it on my palm.

​

"Better not wash your hands anytime soon, kid."

​

The way he talked made it difficult to know when he was joking. He was not very nice, but he was incredibly attractive and reeked of pure masculinity.

​

"What's your name?"

​

I asked quickly, right as he started to leave. He sized me up like he was trying to decide if I was worth telling or not. Finally, he told me,

​

"Westley."

​

---

​

When I got back to my apartment Mike was waiting on the porch. Fuck, I'd forgotten!

​

"You finally decided you wanted to show up, huh?"

​

He said. I apologized and let him in. I was pretty nervous. I wasn't even entirely sure why, but it had been a few weeks since we'd hung out and things just seemed so complicated. I had missed him, a lot. Mike was always the guy I'd liked the most. I'd been in love with him since before high school, and I doubted that would ever change.

​

"Well you gonna put the TV or something on?"

​

I nervously turned the television on as we sat on my living room couch. I couldn't even pay attention to whatever was playing, I felt too tense. My body was locked up and rigid. Michael sighed.

​

"What's wrong, bro?"

​

He asked.

​

"Nothing."

​

I tried to give him a casual smile, but was mostly unsuccessful. He didn't look amused.

​

"Are you upset cause I have a girlfriend? I'm sorry, dude. I like her."

​

I felt bad. I was being so selfish. Didn't he deserve to be happy? Didn't I want my best friend to be happy?"

​

"It's okay. I'M sorry. I shouldn't care."

​

I told him. Michael smiled wanly.

​

"I'm sorry, Lance. I know you like me. I know you probably want to keep doing what we were doing. But I just can't do that stuff anymore. It's wrong."

​

He looked confused and sad. I didn't want him to be sad. Ever. I apologized again.

​

"We just can't," he continued, as if he hadn't heard me, "it's not right. To Carrie. Or for me to be doing that in the first place. I just can't."

​

He swallowed. I watched his adam's apple bob up and down, covered with little black stubble.

​

"You know... that's not really the reason I'm upset, Mike. It's okay. I just don't want you to leave me."

​

An incredulous expression dawned upon my friend's face.

​

"THAT'S what you're upset about? Seriously, Lance? You think I'd leave you?!"

​

"Well not intentionally. You'd just get busy. You'd... fade away."

​

Mike scoffed as he responded,

​

"Now you're just making shit up, bro. You're getting inside your own head. There's literally no reason to think that. I'd never stop being your friend. Never, brother!"

​

I exhaled, the tension lifting from my body. Maybe I really WAS being ridiculous. Overthinking things. I guess I did let myself get wrapped up inside my head, imagining things I didn't like and then acting as if they were true. I wanted to hug Michael, to kiss him, but I knew that's not what he wanted. He just wanted to be my friend, like before, and that was okay with me. That's what was most important to me.

​

I smiled at him, and turned to watch the TV. I was able to pay attention, I suppose, but we were watching sports. Football. It was boring. I could feel myself starting to drift off. My eyes would begin to close without my realizing, and then I'd catch myself and open them, only for the same thing to be repeated minutes later. After a little while of this, I gave up and let myself begin to drift off. I felt my body slide across the couch, but I was too lazy and fatigued to stop it or catch myself. I suppose that the emotional rollercoaster of the past few days, and especially today, had caught up with me. I was drained. I could feel my head fall against Michael's chest; it was warm underneath his shirt. His heart beat softly against the side of my head.

​

After a couple minutes, I felt his hand on my head; he began to stroke my hair, tenderly, brushing it across my forehead. I wondered if he thought I was asleep. I decided not to open my eyes because I enjoyed it. It felt very sweet and romantic. I felt his lips against my ear. He kissed my earlobe and then my neck. I began to get hard. Mike slid his palm across the bulge in my jeans and then unzipped them. There was simply no way he really thought I was asleep now, yet I continued to pretend. I figured that it was sort of an excuse– he knew I was awake, but as long as we could both pretend that I was asleep, he could pretend that I had no idea he still wanted to do stuff with me, and I would still treat him as a regular friend; which honestly, is kind of what we were before anyway, despite him dominating me and fucking me. We'd just be friends again three minutes after he came.

​

He pulled my hard boner out of the opening of my pants and I moaned softly. My heart began to beat faster. I was afraid that was too much of a signal that I wasn't asleep, but Michael either hadn't heard or didn't care. I figured it was the latter. He had his left arm around my shoulder and was jerking me off with his right hand. He took his hand away; I heard him spit in it, and then when he started to masturbate me again it was slick and slimy. I groaned in surprise at the intense sensitivity produced by this method, jerking my head upward on his chest. I could feel his little chuckle as a rumble. I wanted to masturbate him as well, but I was far too scared. I kept my eyes shut and let myself be rocked back and forth against his large frame as he pulled my cock, occasionally spitting again, making me moan at the renewed intensity. Michael pulled my shirt up slightly, exposing my stomach.

​

After a few minutes I could feel myself getting close. His big hand was so warm, the spit made it glide effortlessly across my dick. I couldn't warn him that I was about to cum, so I just started to moan in higher and higher pitch. This wasn't totally contrived, as it really did feel incredible. Finally, I was right on the edge, ready to explode. I wanted to kiss him. I loved Michael. I pressed my forehead into his left pectoral and ejaculated. I could feel my cum shoot, landing little spatters on my chest. I writhed and made a little 'huh!' sound as Mike slowly popped his hand up my dick and then off my sensitive cock head. It was incredibly tender at that moment. He ran his finger in a little circle on the tip of my dick and my body jerked involuntarily. I heard him laugh slightly. He rubbed my cum onto my belly, trying to clean his hand.

​

Then, nothing. I stayed like this, pretending to be asleep, as my cock started to wither. He kept watching the game, left me there with my face pressed into his chest. After a couple minutes, I heard him say,

​

"Oh, yeah."

​

He tucked my dick back into my jeans and zipped them up. He kissed my forehead.

​

A couple minutes later, he shook me by the shoulder and told me to wake up, that he was going home. I opened my eyes, pretending to have been asleep, and smiled at him in a way that I felt to be romantic. He just said,

​

"Bye, bro. See ya."

​

Somehow, just seeing him walk away caused an adrenaline spike (and not just because of how nice his ass looked as he did so) and I jumped up from my couch, calling on him to

​

"Wait!"

​

He turned, dark eyebrow raised, and, sounding annoyed, replied,

​

"What? What is it, Lance?"

​

I laughed nervously.

​

"Will I see you again?"

​

He grinned at me and shook his head. He looked significantly less annoyed now that he'd realized just exactly what concerned me.

​

"Dumbass. I told you, I'm never gonna leave you. You're my best friend. I'll see you soon. Goodbye, little bro."

​

Little bro? Wow.

​

---

​

Hours later, I was getting ready for bed, trying to fix my sleep schedule when I got a text from an unsaved number.

​

'Hey it's Mitch. Call me. Now. What the hell are u trying to do?'

​

---

​

To be continued...

The morning after Michael and I had finally actually done something– although he had not been able to fuck me, sadly, before we were interrupted by a very angry Bill– we were all back in the water. Like the first day, I was kind of keeping to myself. I wasn't really feeling as shy anymore, having hooked up with two of the four guys there, and even kissed a third (Bill was the only guy I hadn't done anything with), but nonetheless, after the histrionics of the night before I really wanted to keep out of everyone's way. This had turned out to be a very messy retreat, and I didn't want any more drama. It didn't seem like anyone else could possibly find out my secret, assuming Tanner had told Bill already; and by the way the two were horseplaying around like always, they had clearly made up, so it was probably safe to assume that they were very close and he'd told his buddy.

​

Although, there was always the secret of how small I was down there. Maybe it was the summer sun and the warm water, but that didn't really bother me right now. I was still wearing boxers underneath my swimming shorts though, as a safe measure. I looked around for Mitch, and saw he was talking to Michael. I closed my eyes and tried to think about something else. I didn't own either one, neither of them would ever date me, and I'd sucked both of their dicks anyway, what was the point of being jealous? I tried to distract myself, but all I could think about was the night before when Michael had kissed me. He'd looked really scared, vulnerable, and cute. I loved Michael, and I hated that I was in love with my best friend. It was only made all the more difficult by his inscrutability, the way he would say the nicest things and then call me a faggot, dominate me then kiss me, suck my dick then say he wasn't gay. I remembered the way his lips felt on mine, the warmth of his skin on my cheek.

​

The image of him trying to fuck my throat with his monster cock and forcing me to sniff his ass invaded my mind like those cult members on You're Next had invaded that house. Or maybe the masked guy on Hush. Or those freaks on Funny Games. Regardless, the point is that I started to get really horny at the memory of my best friend treating me like a human fleshlight and crushing me like a coke can under the power of his will. Maybe I was pretty ambivalent as well, I wanted to love and be loved, held and kissed by Mike, and I wanted to be spat on and hit and stepped on. I wanted to be his slave and his treasured boy. It was exhausting, really.

​

I was interrupted by a splash of water to the face and opened my eyes to see Bill before me; my heart started to race, but he actually seemed quite genial.

​

"What are you up to over here by yourself?"

​

He asked.

​

"Nothing. Thinking."

​

"Cool, cool."

​

Things lapsed into awkward silence for a minute or two, before he continued.

​

"Well, just like old times, huh?"

​

"What?"

​

I asked.

​

"Nevermind. I have a question."

​

That sort of statement never failed to elicit anxiety in me.

​

"What is it?"

​

"Was it you last night?"

​

I didn't answer. I guess there was nothing to be lost in admitting it at this point, but I still felt like it was a bad idea. Bill kept talking.

​

"You were the one that saw me and Tanner, right?"

​

I didn't want to answer.

​

"Yeah, it was. Why not just admit it now?"

​

"Okay, fine," I said, "it was me. But I didn't tell Mike."

​

"I know you didn't."

​

"I would never have told anyone. Ever."

​

I wondered if Tanner had told Bill he knew I was gay. Not just bisexual, but gay. I guess it didn't really matter, considering Bill definitely knew I was into guys in some capacity. I also felt like he probably wouldn't tell Bill we had kissed either, so maybe not.

​

"Yeah, you're a cool guy, Lance. You're cool. But... I have another question. You're gay, right?"

​

"W-what?"

​

I stammered.

​

"You're gay, right?"

​

He repeated, as though I hadn't heard what he said.

​

"What do you mean?"

​

"I mean... you're into guys, right?"

​

"Yeah..."

​

I was confused and wondering where he was going with all of this.

​

"Do you like me?"

​

I felt a little sick. What was he really wanting to know? Did Bill like me?

​

"What do you mean, Bill?"

​

"Like, do you think I'm hot?"

​

Oh, that's what he meant. I didn't answer, I wasn't even sure if I should. His face turned red and he muttered something and began to leave; I grabbed his arm to stop him, it was hot from the sun and I could feel how muscular he was, underneath the layer of fat.

​

"Wait! I... I do think you're... attractive, Bill. I have since the first time I laid eyes on you. You're really cute."

​

I laughed nervously as I said that last line. I wasn't sure, but I didn't think I'd ever actually said those words to anyone before. I was terrified of rejection and I felt a pit open up in my stomach, an automatic reaction to saying something so vulnerable, despite the fact that Bill had asked me in the first place; I hadn't simply offered up the information.

​

He turned around and I could tell what I had said had made him very happy, maybe even a little embarrassed. I wondered if he thought he was unattractive. He shaved his head and, although he was muscular, he had a good bit of weight to him and his stomach jutted out like a ball. He was very stocky. Maybe he thought that made him unattractive, but in fact he was quite handsome and masculine.

​

"You think so?"

​

I nodded, quickly. He smiled. Suddenly, I felt myself pushed from behind, and turned to see Tanner grinning, from ear to ear like a silly Cheshire cat. Bill caught me and held my hands behind my back so that I couldn't move; I kicked my legs uselessly in the water. Tanner soaked me with a wave of water and hooted like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Sputtering and blinking, I looked upwards at Bill to plead for him to let me go as Tanner began to punch me in the stomach, lightly and playfully. I felt like a dumb kid being teased by his older brothers. Bill smirked as I plead, and started to drool, letting spit drip from his mouth until it was almost touching my nose and then sucking it back up into his mouth real fast, so that it never actually touched my face. It was mental torture.

​

As I struggled against Bill, he started to grind his crotch into my ass, and I could tell it was intentional. I felt his erection begin to poke me. He let go of me, and tossed me over to Tanner, who picked me up by my armpits and threw me into the air. Bill caught me and did the same thing back. I was thrown from one boy to the other, like a rag doll. After several more throws, Tanner caught me, pulled me into him, and kissed my forehead with an exaggerated 'mwah' sound. Both men snickered.

​

"Hey bro, come with us."

​

Tanner said, and started to drag me out of the water. I protested, but it was useless. They held me between them and marched me into the woods.

​

"Guys, guys! I can walk on my own!" I protested.

​

"Fine. You want to walk on your own? Walk on your own."

​

Said Tanner.

​

They let go and I followed them further into the forest. I wondered what they were planning. I knew they would never hurt me, but I was scared all the same, since I didn't know what they WOULD do. I could tell they were nice guys, though. Bill was the one I knew the least, and he was clearly fucked up over his sexuality, but he had always treated me more like a little brother when he bullied me than he did someone he might actually want to hurt or humiliate; and Tanner, while goofy, had been genuinely kind to me. He had kept my secret, told me he accepted me, tried to make me feel better, and had even kissed me. Although I was in love with Michael, I liked both of these guys a lot.

​

"So, you liked watching us, huh?"

​

Bill asked me, suddenly. I swallowed, nervously. My mouth was too dry, it felt like my spit was made of sticky elmer's glue.

​

"What are you guys gonna do to me?" I asked. They looked at each other and sniggered.

​

"Nothing you don't want, gaywad!"

​

Crowed Tanner, in response.

​

"Just gonna treat you like the little homo you are."

​

Bill said, eyebrow raised and smirking.

​

"Please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

​

"Well, you watched cause you LIKED it. Not sure what there is to be sorry about."

​

Bill replied. He pulled his boxer briefs down, revealing a cock that was already hard. I looked at the head, bulging through his foreskin. I wanted to pull his foreskin back and suck on it. I'd never done anything with an uncut guy before. I wondered if his parents were immigrants or something. He looked like he could be European.

​

"So you DO like it, huh?"

​

Said Bill. I realized my hand was in my swimming shorts, something I'd done without even being aware. I pulled it out right away, face red.

​

"You like my COCK."

​

He basically yelled, grabbing himself obscenely.

​

"Don't be embarrassed."

​

Tanner interjected, pulling his own bottoms down to reveal his massive, thick member. Easy for him to say, he was hung beyond belief. He began to jerk himself off, Bill followed suit.

​

"Come on, pull it out."

​

"No, guys, I can't."

​

"Why?"

​

Asked Bill.

​

"I just don't want to."

​

"You sure about that?" He asked, pointing at my crotch. I realized I was hard.

​

"What's wrong?"

​

Asked Tanner.

​

"I'm not... like you."

​

I responded, using my hands to illustrate his size.

​

"Neither am I," countered Bill, "who is? That thing is crazy big. Nobody cares how big your dick is anyway."

​

I looked from Bill to Tanner, and back to Bill. Maybe they were right, it didn't matter. It seemed like they liked me. Tanner smiled at me, in a way that was nice rather than horny. I pulled my pants down. I was nervous.

​

"Nice!"

​

Said Bill. He walked over to me and put his hand on my dick and started to jerk me off. He spat in his hand first. I moaned in pleasure; it felt incredible, although not as transcendent as when Mike had sucked me off.

​

"Jerk me off. "

​

Bill whispered into my ear. I could feel the sharp stabs of air from his mouth against my earlobe when he spoke. I reached down and started to pull on his dick. I watched as the foreskin rolled back over his head and clear slime oozed out; it popped over the mountain ridge of his cock head. I could see he was probably an inch and a half bigger than me, and thick.

​

"Do you want to suck me off?"

​

He asked. I nodded.

​

"Then do it gay boy!"

​

I got down on my knees, his erection stared me in the face. Fuck, it was hot. I cupped his hairy nutsack and began to give him a blow job. Immediately, he was very rough, shoving his cock down my throat and making me gag. I asked him to please be nice but he ignored me, moaning deeply and grabbing fistfuls of hair. I focused on keeping my teeth out of the way while he face fucked me.

​

I felt Tanner behind me; his warm body and huge cock pressed into my back. It was like a heavy log against my spine. He got on top of me and grabbed my head, forcing me deeper onto his friend's dick. I retched and could hear him chuckle in my ear. He began to kiss my ear and my neck as my eyes watered while Bill assaulted my throat and he helped. It felt degrading, humiliating. Tears streamed down my face, but I was hard as a rock.

​

Without ejaculating, Bill released me and gave Tanner a high-five, like he was tagging out. Tanner stood up and got in front of me, wagging his half hard penis in my face. Even half hard, it was well over the size of mine. I was in awe of the sheer size.

​

"Come on, suck it!"

​

He said, rudely. I began to lick an enormous dick head that was at least half the size of my hand. Behind me, Bill was kissing my neck and back. I moaned as he pushed a lubricated (with spittle, no doubt) finger up my ass.

​

"Suck it bro, suck!"

​

I obeyed Tanner, and tried to fit his enormous erection into my mouth. Even opening it as wide as possible, it barely fit. I let him fuck my mouth since it was pretty impossible for me to really suck on his dick, and he was nice, only going halfway in, although even halfway was still down my throat. I was torn on whether I wanted him to go all the way in or let me survive.

​

Bill pulled me upward by my hips and, spreading my ass cheeks, started to push his cock into my asshole. Immediately, I pulled the massive erection that impaled my throat out, and sat down on the forest floor. Bill looked at me, clearly confused.

​

"What's wrong?"

​

He asked. I couldn't admit to him the truth, that I didn't want him to fuck me because I wanted Michael to be my first. I already felt bad enough that I'd sucked Mitch off before Mike, and even kissed Tanner first. I didn't want Bill to fuck me first. I told him I didn't want him to fuck me. He looked so disappointed. I felt really bad.

​

"Just today... I mean, I just don't want to do it today. You can fuck me tomorrow."

​

"We're leaving tonight."

​

I had forgotten, today was the last day we'd be up here. I apologized.

​

"Forget it."

​

Bill said, and started to walk away, pulling his underwear back up over his ass. He had such a nice butt, too. He was so cute, and I was sad.

​

"Wait! I can suck your dick. Please let me suck your dick."

​

He ignored me and left. I was hurt because I felt like I'd hurt his feelings. I wondered if he actually liked me or had just wanted to fuck.

​

"So... still wanna suck me off?"

​

Came a sneering, goofy voice above me. I told Tanner to go fuck himself and went back to the campsite. I didn't see anyone in the river. It looked so peaceful, despite the rushing. I felt a deep sense of longing. I wanted to stay up here forever. I wanted to be with Bill and Tanner and Mitch and, especially, Michael, forever. I wanted to live in a house with all four of them. They were all so nice to me. None of them cared that I was gay. They didn't judge me. Actually, they just wanted to have sex with me. The end of the film Ken Park flitted through my head, when they all have an orgy together, like they're in heaven. It was such a stark contrast to the rest of the film.

​

I looked around and found Michael, a bit behind the campsite taking a leak. I watched him. He looked so handsome. I liked him so much. At least I'd never lose contact with him.

​

"What, you want to be my toilet? A human urinal?"

​

He asked me, sneering. I frowned.

​

"What's wrong, little slave?"

​

He came closer, and grabbed my face roughly, peeing on my sneakers. I pulled back, shocked. I looked down and watched as the liquid soaked into the white fabric of my shoes. I wasn't happy.

​

"Get down on the ground, fag."

​

He ordered. I felt like crying. My eyes felt heavy and my lip quivered.

​

"Please, Mike. Please don't be mean to me. Not today."

​

His expression softened. I could tell he regretted what he'd just said to me. Not sure if he cared about my Nikes.

​

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. You're such a sweet guy, Lance. You're a good person."

​

He hugged me and I pressed my face into his chest. I felt him kiss the top of my head, pressing my hair down. Then I actually DID start to cry, and I could feel the tears leak into his green cotton shirt. He asked me if something was wrong, and I shook my head 'no'. He asked if I wanted to kiss him and I nodded into his chest. He released me and started to kiss me. I felt like I was floating up into the air. I felt like my soul was being sucked out my mouth and into his, mixing with his saliva. I imagined being able to live as a molecule of spit, swishing around the crevices of his mouth, sliding down his throat and into his stomach to be permanently demolished by the acid inside of it. I pushed my tongue deeper and wrestled with his. I counted his teeth. I felt him massage my dick with the back of his hand and let out a little moan. He released me and pulled my shirt up and off of me, over my head, messing up my hair. It flipped back down onto my forehead.

​

"You know, your body is kind of feminine. No offense. It's really cute."

​

"Someone else told me that too."

​

I replied. Mike ran his hands along the sides of my body and over my stomach until he got to my shorts. He untied the rope that kept them tight and pulled them down, over my erection, then pulled my boxers down as well.

​

"Do you want to fuck me?"

​

I asked, breathlessly. He smirked at me and asked if I thought he would even fit.

​

"I'm sure you'll find a way. Where there's a will..."

​

He grinned.

​

"I already did."

​

He went back to his tent and, momentarily, returned with a purple bottle of lubricant.

​

"I was hoping I'd need this while I was up here."

​

He began to lube his cock up, and as it hardened I felt my heart flutter in my chest. I was now realizing just how big it was. It was almost as big as his arm, at least as big as mine, and definitely a lot bigger than any dildo I'd ever used. He pulled me close to him again and kissed me, shoving his finger into my ass as he did so. Once again, I moaned into his mouth.

​

"This is gonna hurt," he said, breaking the kiss, "you might want to bite your hand or something."

​

I pushed my face into Michael's chest. He lifted me, slightly, and began to slowly push his cock head into my ass. I bit his shoulder, and I could hear him say 'ow!' as his head slid past the ring of my asshole with a 'pop'. I moaned as he slid me down on top of his immense, erect cock and kissed me.

​

"Sorry about that."

​

He whispered into my ear. I wanted to tell him how handsome he looked, halfway on top of me, pinning me to the tree. My legs weren't even touching the ground. 'Fuck he's strong', I thought to myself. I didn't understand how he was able to hold me up and fuck me like that.

​

I wanted to tell him how beautiful he was, the sun shining on his dark hair, down the bridge of his nose, illuminating his hazel eyes and glinting off of the spit left from where he licked his lips to moisten them as he focused on trying to get his enormous cock inside of me. He had such a determined look on his face, like when someone is trying to break a stick or something, and it takes a lot of force. Or doing math problems. There was a dark shadow on his upper lip where his facial hair was starting to grow back out. I never use the word 'beautiful' to describe men, but I would have used it then, for him.

​

I didn't say anything though, because he was sliding his cock back out of me. It felt good and bad, intense and pleasurable. He pushed it back in, going deeper this time, probably past the halfway point, and all I could do was groan in ecstasy, a long, drawn out sound. He grinned, cockily.

​

"Never had anything this big, have ya?"

​

I shook my head. Carefully, he crouched down, with me on his knees, and laid me down on the pine needles, still deep inside of me. They bristles against my back. He swiftly pulled his shirt off and got on top of me and began to really fuck me. He was going pretty fast now, pounding me. It felt incredible, and that feeling was mixed with the emotion of being underneath Michael, the guy I liked the most in the whole world, and looking up at him as fucked me. His lips were pushed together, and he had that same focused look on his face. I grabbed his chin and pulled him into me, kissing him deeply.

​

He continued, sometimes slowing down, sometimes speeding up. When he had sucked my dick, I'd felt like I was being pulled up into heaven, but this felt more like drifting in a thick liquid, slowly drowning in dense honey as I was pushed to and fro. That same song from the day before rung through my brain. As Michael continued to pump me I could see sweat beads gathering on his forehead. We locked eyes for a second, and I could see the love he felt for me, at least at that moment. I projected it back at him; it was like beams of affection were slowly accumulating in that space between us, viscous, neon secretions. I mouthed the words 'love you' but I didn't actually say it.

​

Michael furrowed his brow and began to fuck me harder. I was being stretched to my limits, physically and emotionally. I wished I could fit his entire body inside of me and keep him. I felt like I was high. Michael grunted, his eyes opened wide and his mouth fell. He dropped on top of me, his hot chest pressing into mine. I gripped him. He fucked me faster, like a jackhammer, then pushed himself up, looked off into the distance, at nothing in particular, and came inside of me. He stayed like that for several seconds, staring off into the woods, his expression totally blank, even after his cock had stopped throbbing and had begun to soften.

​

I kissed him again, trying to pull him inside of me through his tongue. He broke the kiss, and looked at me, sheepishly, with a crooked grin.

​

"Eh... sorry about that. I guess we're even now."

​

I didn't even realize that he was talking about cumming inside of me, for a moment. When I did, I laughed. We got up and started to put our clothes on. When he had his back turned to me, and was zipping up his shorts, as though modesty was still important, I said, in as lazy and nonchalant a tone as I could effect,

​

"I love you. Bro."

​

I added that last word to try and make it less awkward. He turned to face me. His expression, as it often was, was very obscure. It was like he was searching for something in my face, in me. I cleared my throat, quietly. Finally, he said,

​

"Lance, you know... well. Listen, I... I do love you. Actually. I do."

​

We stared at one another for a quiet second. Then he walked away. I wanted to follow him, but didn't. I just stared at the sky.

​

I was alone. It was beautiful out here, I was going to miss the calmness and effortless joy of the woods when we went back. I traced the shape of the clouds above me for several minutes. Just when I had decided to go back down to the river, I heard a small rustle behind me.

​

"Michael?"

​

I asked, turning. It was Mitch.

​

"You wish. Huh?"

​

He said. He sounded sort of bitter.

​

"Hey. What's up?"

​

I replied, casually. He just snorted. I swallowed.

​

"What's wrong?"

​

I asked. He shook his head.

​

"Nothing, I guess. Just... nothing."

​

I just looked at him. He was clearly upset. I felt bad. I figured it was because he'd seen me and Mike fucking. Did Mitch actually like me? Like that?

​

"Did you, uh... see?"

​

"Sure. So what? He saw us."

​

I wasn't sure how to reply. What does one say in situations like this?

​

"Are you upset?"

​

I asked.

​

"Why would I be?"

​

He countered. I shrugged, and looked down at the ground.

​

"I don't care. Why would I care?"

​

Mitch sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than me. I wished I knew how to make him feel better. I wanted to hug him, but figured that was a really awful idea. I looked up at him. He was so damn handsome, honestly. Why DID he care? I wondered that. It's not like he wanted to be with me anyway. Did he expect me to wait around and suck only his dick? Never hook up with anyone else? I knew I couldn't ask him. But fuck, was he cute. The wind tousled his short brown hair.

​

"Well. Last day here."

​

I said, and gave a nervous laugh.

​

"Yep."

​

He began to walk past me, to walk away. I couldn't bear it. I stopped him with a word.

​

"Wait! Are you... you gonna text me when we get back?"

​

He stood still, turned away from me, for what seemed like ages but was probably less than half a minute. Slowly, he turned around. There was nothing on his face. His eyes looked lighter in the sunlight. Then, he exhaled and his stance shifted, his head fell a bit to the side. He seemed nicer, less mad.

​

"Yeah, man. I will. Talk to you later."

​

And just like that, he was gone. I could hear that song once again rushing through my mind in trickles, the beat rising and falling in intensity. 'Call on meeee, call on me. Call on meeee, call on me.'

I saw his fingers slide through the opening of the tent and my chest started to buzz, like a hive filled with bees. I wasn't ready to make a decision, I was scared and unsure. Wasn't that sort of what Mike was just saying though, that he should make my decisions for me because I was too scared to take what I really wanted? So why was this the decision he was letting me make, if it was the most important one? And why was I assuming he was correct? What if he was taking advantage of me?

​

I thought back to less than 5 minutes ago when he told me he'd always care about me, no matter what, and smiled. He WAS correct, my anxiety and low self esteem undermined my ability to achieve what I really wanted in life. But... was being the slave of my lifetime best friend what I really wanted in life? Why not getting a good job, or achieving my dreams? Then again, he never said he was my life coach. Maybe my dream in life was to be a slave to my childhood best friend. After all, it seemed to be the closest I'd ever get to obtaining his love. Not to mention he was completely correct in assuming that I desired to be his obedient servant. It turned me on like nothing else; my dick was already leaking like a faucet. How did he know me so well while it seemed I didn't know him at all?

​

"So?" He asked, sauntering in.

​

I swallowed, and it felt like a rock bobbing up and down in my throat. My mouth was dry.

​

"What?"

​

I asked, trying to delay things. Michael just smirked. He knew my game.

​

"Are you gonna be obedient to me or not, Lance?"

​

"Well, I... I..."

​

I didn't know what to say. I shut up. Michael just shook his head and began to put his shorts on. I sucked in a cold breath of air.

​

"Wait! Yes! I will... please, Michael, please. Just be nice to me."

​

He grinned and let his shorts drop to the tent floor.

​

"I don't know about nice, buddy."

​

I looked up at him. I felt like a pathetic dog, on the ground before him, looking up at his strength and power as he towered above me. But, fuck, was he handsome. And cocky.

​

"Get over here." He commanded.

​

I crawled over to him. I felt like a bug beneath him, ready to be crushed by his awesome force. He told me to stick out my tongue and I immediately obeyed. I wanted to kiss him, I wanted him to love me, I wanted him to hold me. He spat in my face. I wanted to go crawl into a hole and disappear forever, but my cock had ideas of its own, jumping to attention like an eager soldier, ready for battle. Michael ordered to me to sniff his protruding bulge, saying that I 'needed to worship his balls, to fill my brain with his smell, let the scent of his cock control me'. Shaking, I raised myself to my knees from my position on all fours, up toward the massive sack that loomed above me. It jutted out immensely, sagging the crotch of his white briefs downward, heavy with the weight of his colossal balls, and even bigger dick.

​

Just as I was almost touching the protuberance with my nose, he swung it, hitting me in the face with his meaty basket, and laughing; the weight felt like it beggared belief– things were just not supposed to be that heavy down there. And yet, Michael was. He ordered once again for me to sniff, and I did so. The smell was strong and musky, but not bad. It had a very masculine, heady quality, and I began to feel delirious. As I pressed my nose into the massive, white clothed bulk, I could see pubic hairs poking out on all sides. I thought of my own, nearly hairless crotch and felt ashamed, powerless, and submissive. Psychic... Powerless... Another Man's Sack. I sniffed. Michael's dominating aroma erased my free will, binding me to him as a slave for all eternity; or so I felt, horny as I was. My own dick leaked rivers of precum.

​

"May I please kiss your bulge, sir?"

​

I asked with a tone of deference. Michael beamed. I found it insanely handsome how completely and totally happy it seemed to make him just to have me treat him like my master; it was clear that this was a fantasy for him, something he really, really enjoyed. It made me love him all the more.

​

"Fuck, you're such a good boy. Fuck. Yes, you may. You're doing so well, Lance, wow!"

​

If he was a dog, his tail would have been wagging. He looked like he was on top of the world, he ran the fingers of one hand through my hair gently, and softly slid them over my ear, caressing my earlobe. His dick began to harden through his briefs, causing his bulge to swell; I kissed the bottom of the immense protrusion, feeling the heat on my lips. I could see the impression of Michael's large, imposing dick head as it grew bigger, stretching the white fabric thinner.

​

Mike let out a 'hnnnnnnhhhh', and flexed his boner inside of his underwear; it jumped lethargically, held back by his briefs, and a wet spot appeared where precum spurted out. I kissed the wet spot, feeling the shape of his big head against my lips, he moaned loudly. Frantically, he shoved his waistband down, and his gargantuan, half hard erection flopped out and smacked heavily onto my face, feeling like a blow from a fist. I froze in place, feeling the astronomical weight of Michael's enormous penis on me, dwarfing me, pushing me down. It convered the entirety of my face, snaking along my mouth, nose, forehead; I felt it leaking precum into my hair.

​

"Fuck, Lance. You are so small compared to my dick. This is exactly where you deserve to be. Crushed under the weight of my cock. You're nothing compared to me. You're my slave."

​

He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped me in the face. It genuinely hurt, and I could tell Michael felt bad, but I was far too aroused to care.

​

"Can we compare?"

​

I asked. Michael grinned cockily. Obviously I knew that I was much, much smaller than him, but I wanted to make him feel even better, even more powerful, even more superior. I wanted him to feel good. I really liked it when Michael was happy.

​

I stood and pulled my undies down, to reveal my dick, harder than it had ever been in my entire life. Clocking in at a whopping 5 (and maybe even a quarter!) inches, it was utterly humiliated by the staggering size and girth of Michael's gargantuan tool. His dick was more than twice the length of mine and still growing; the girth was nearly triple.

​

"Wow, look at your little guy! He's so cute!"

​

Michael sneered. I looked at him pleadingly, my face and red and hot.

​

"You are so much better than me, bro."

​

I said. Mike grabbed me and kissed me, almost automatically. When he released me, he looked surprised at his own actions.

​

"You are the king. The champion"

​

I continued. Michael looked at me like he wanted to punch me in the face, or maybe more like I'd just told him everyone he ever loved had died. He looked at my lips, he looked into my eyes.

​

"Say it again."

​

He demanded. I told him he was the king, the champion, the victor. I told him he was better than me, the best in the world. I told him I was nothing but a bug underneath his shoe. I told him I was Gregor Samsa.

​

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

​

He said, and he leaned in and kissed me again, this time slowly, using his tongue to moisten our lips, barely pushing it past my lips a few times like a chick that can't quite break through its eggshell. When he pulled away, I felt like I was intoxicated. He looked like he wanted to cry or hit something. I didn't quite understand what was wrong. I loved him.

​

"Now kiss my ass," he ordered, "you need to realize how subservient you are to me. How much better I am than you. You are an ass kisser faggot. Loser."

​

He slapped me, softly.

​

"Sorry. If that hurt, I mean. Just kiss my ass, idiot!"

​

I got to my knees immediately. I felt so confused. He made it so hard to understand his goals or desires. He kept vacillating and contradicting himself. I just didn't understand. Fuck I was horny. I wanted him to fuck me.

​

Mike got down on all fours, his muscular ass facing me. Whatever work outs he was doing showed here as well, not just on his arms and six pack; his butt was well defined and round. I leaned forward and placed my lips on his hair studded right cheek, kissing in servility. He leaned forward, spreading his legs so that his buttcrack opened wide. He was much hairier here. A veritable forest of thick hair swarmed all through his crack, at times coalescing into dark ringlets. It felt like looking at a Lovecraftian god of insane proportions and dense fur.

​

"Sniff."

​

Michael commanded eagerly. I was quite nervous. I moved my nose closer to his hairy ass crack and took a small sniff. The scent was much deeper than his crotch, but still that same masculine, powerful scent that made me reel. It didn't smell bad, but it was so rich and overpowering that I coughed, which made my new master laugh.

​

"You're a fucking ass sniffing loser. Butt kisser. Homo."

​

"Yes, my king."

​

I agreed. Was he wrong?

​

"Now sniff my butthole!"

​

He nearly snarled. Now I was really scared. I hesitated and he told me that if I didn't obey him that he would slap me. I immediately put my nose right up to his hole and began to sniff. I could feel the hair crowding in on me. The smell was immensely strong, and I felt my brain being rewritten with nothing but worship and praise for Mike, my lord, god, and master.

​

Without warning, Mike farted in my face. I fell to the ground, coughing and rubbing my eyes. The stink clung to me, crushing me under the weight of the foul odor, and squashing my self esteem under the valor and heroic strength of Michael's total domination of me. He howled in laughter. I felt like a worthless piece of garbage. Like nothing. I felt like this entire thing was a mistake.

​

After a moment, my friend realized that I was not having fun. He shut up immediately, and I could see concern in his eyes.

​

"Lance?"

​

I said nothing. My dick was rock hard, but my feelings were hurt. I was unsure of how I even felt.

​

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean... it was just a joke. Are you mad?"

​

His tenderness was quite unexpected. I smiled at him.

​

"No, sorry. I just... it's nothing. It's fine."

​

"Do you want to suck my dick then?"

​

I perked up at this. It was all I'd wanted to do for a week now. Well, really for a decade. I nodded.

​

"You look so cute."

​

Mike said. I blushed. He traced my bottom lip with his index finger, then my top lip. Slowly, he pushed his fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them.

​

"If that's how you suck dick you better figure out how to level up real quick."

​

My friend sneered. I can hazard a guess that my face was probably right around the color of a beet at that moment. Mike followed up with,

​

"I was just joking."

​

He pushed his fat, bulbous dick head up against my lips, I could taste the salty precum. I licked it. I opened my mouth wider and began to suck the head. Michael shivered, his leg looking like a guy waiting in line to pee at a festival.

​

"Don't do that! That's too fucking much."

​

I was scared I was gonna grin and piss him off, so I just went down on his cock, but fuck it was cute when he was vulnerable. I could tell he didn't like to be.

​

I began to suck faster, remembering how Mitch had liked his sucked. I wanted to do a good job right away so Mike wouldn't fuck my throat; I was scared I wouldn't actually survive if he did that. Of course, it didn't matter, because Michael wanted what he wanted. I tickled the frenulum of his cock with my tongue and he groaned deeply and grabbed my ears– I knew what was coming. I felt my throat invaded roughly, pierced by Michael's fat, heavy member. I gagged obscenely as his enormous head smashed into my uvula and then popped through the opening of my throat, lodging itself there. My esophagus was stretched to its limits and there was nowhere else for his dick to go, but when I opened my eyes, blurred with tears, I could see that I was still at least several inches from his immensely thick pubic bush. I heaved repeatedly, sure I would vomit, but Michael quickly popped his cock back out of my throat. I gasped for breath and threw myself on the ground while my good friend stood above me with a cocky smirk on his face like he'd just won the world wrestling championship, his vast tool jutting out into the air and wagging, my drool dripping off in torrents.

​

"Oh god Michael please, I can't do this. It's too big. Please don't."

​

"Can't never did."

​

He quipped. He pulled me up by my armpits and slapped my face with his huge boner, sliding my own spit onto my cheeks. I looked up at him with my best puppy dog eyes, praying he'd take mercy. No such luck. Instead, he made me lay down, stomach up, on my sleeping bag. He positioned himself above me, lining his cock up with my mouth, and shoved it down to the hilt in one fell swoop, his hefty nutsack slamming into my nose and his dick going past my adam's apple. I vomited immediately, and it spewed back out as removed his cock. He frowned. Coughing, sputtering, I gasped desperately,

​

"Michael please, please, please. It's just too big."

​

"Let me try again."

​

He did try again. And again. And again. I puked every single time, covering my sleeping bag; I began to cry, but my cock was rock hard and I didn't know whether I was crying from fear, pain, or pleasure. I had to admit that the idea of being treated like an object had been a fantasy of mine for as long as I could remember, and now I was essentially my best friend's human fleshlight.

​

But finally, Mike gave up.

​

"Fuck, I can't do this to you, man. I don't want you to suffer THAT much."

​

I sat up and wiped the tears away.

​

"Do you want me to suck your dick?"

​

He asked. I was shocked. I had never imagined he would ask such a question, he'd made it very clear that was not his thing. I guess he could read my surprise on my face.

​

"I feel bad for what I just did. That's all. Don't make me regret this."

​

He sounded embarrassed. I nodded quickly and stood up.

​

"Nope, I'm not kneeling. Lay down, bud."

​

I did as he said. He got down on the ground as well, on top of me, and slowly put my dick in his mouth.

​

"Ah!"

​

I nearly shouted, bucking my hips. It felt incredible! Too good, in fact. I felt like a million tiny nerves had just lit up at the same time, it was like jerking off with lotion but times a hundred, it was like peeing inside out.

​

"Woah! Don't do that!" He said.

​

"Sorry!" I gasped, out of breath, "I've never felt that before! That felt really crazy!"

​

Michael looked at me like I was the cutest thing in the world and kept sucking me off. I was a lot smaller than him, so it was easier. He never gagged, just sucked me. I didn't dare try to fuck his mouth. I just watched the top of his head as he went up and down. It was like I could see little rivers and valleys and mountains and houses written in the minutae of his jet black hair, counting the ones the stood up against the swirling, dark sea; all while I felt like I was being tossed around on a ship during a storm, or on an elevator that slid between floors with incredible speed, throwing me from one point of ecstasy to the next. My ears were ringing, it seemed like there was a little radio in my skull playing that one song, the one where the guy sings "Call on meeee! Call on me!" a hundred times in a row. A little white squiggly line opened up above me, widening into a star that I felt like I was being sucked up into, my atoms zigzagging until they were all upside down.

​

It didn't take long for me to cum, maybe five minutes. I felt so damn good that I didn't even think of warning him; I just shut one eye, let out a cry, and shot into his mouth. Mike jerked his head back immediately and began to spit my semen out as the rest dribbled out of my dick, lonely without his mouth. He looked at me, shocked.

​

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

​

He asked, angrily.

​

"I'm... fuck! I'm sorry! I've never gotten a blow job before!"

​

"What the hell are you doing?"

​

boomed an angry voice. I whirled around to see Bill staring down at us and froze.

​

---

​

Bill's chest was heaving, he was angry as all hell. I had no clue what to do. Michael pulled his briefs up as he stood up, moving towards Bill and trying to calm him down, but Bill kept yelling, asking us what the fuck was wrong with us. I was rather surprised at how calm Michael stayed, not raising his voice or threatening Bill despite Bill's angry shouting and chest puffing.

​

Discretely, I tried to pull my pants on, but it failed to escape Bill's notice.

​

"I don't know what the fuck is wrong with you Mike, this is fucking weird. You would never do this! It's probably this FAGGOT'S fault!"

​

He shouted, gesturing towards me and taking a half step. I say a half step, because he never even managed to put his foot on the floor, Mike swung and knocked Bill out cold with a single punch, his face scarily calm.

​

"Oh, shit... Lance, help me. "

​

His voice was monotone. I aided Michael in dragging Bill's limp body out of the tent and into the night air, terrified he'd wake up and hit me, but no such thing happened. Mitch and Tanner crowded around us, asking us what happened to no avail. Momentarily, Bill opened his eyes and sat up, groggily. Then, he jumped up, looking for a fight already, and almost lost his balance. Tanner grabbed him, but he pushed his friend and yelled at him,

​

"Don't touch me!"

​

Tanner backed away, looking incredibly hurt. I felt really bad for the guy. Bill raised his fists at Mike, saying he was about to beat his ass. I was shaking, but Michael didn't seem fazed at all, and kept his arms crossed across his chest.

​

"Look Bill, the only reason I hit you is because you threatened Lance. Otherwise I wouldn't have done anything to you. Not unless you hit me first. I don't fight unfair, but you're not even gonna get a chance to hurt Lance."

​

Bill scoffed in disbelief.

​

"All because I called him a f..."

​

He trailed off, apparently thinking better about what he was about to say. Mike took a step towards the big man.

​

"Don't you EVER," he yelled, accentuating his words with a finger poke to Bill's chest, "EVER say ANYTHING about Lance. Got that? You don't have room to talk when you and Tanner are FUCKING. I mean come on. You fucking idiot!"

​

This was the angriest I had ever seen Michael and it scared me badly. It also reminded me of high school. Bill deflated. His shoulders sagged, and he put his face in his hands.

​

"Oh brother..." said Mike, "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to say that. I would never tell anyone that. I'm sorry, shit. Shit."

​

He put his hand on Bill's shoulder, which I thought was a really wild thing to do, but Bill hardly seemed to notice. All he did, when he looked up, was ask Mike,

​

"So that was you in the bushes?"

​

Michael looked confused. I gulped. Michael asked what he was talking about. Well, sort of. Anyway, he asked 'huh?'

​

"You didn't... that wasn't you? How long have you known?"

​

"Dude, I've known for years. I used to work with you, remember? Our work trailers were right next to each other."

​

Bill was quiet for a few minutes. He looked like he wanted to cry, but didn't. It was crazy to see such big dude look so broken. Despite what had happened, I really felt for him. I wished I could do something.

​

"And you never told anyone? In all that time?" Bill asked.

​

"And I never would, brother. I'm sorry. I was just so fucking... mad. I'm so sorry."

​

Bill swallowed, hard. You could literally see his adam's apple bob up and down as he tried to fight his tears back.

​

"I'm not even gay."

​

He said eventually, in a tiny, quiet voice. He looked so small, like a mouse. I wanted to hug him. Michael patted him on the back.

​

"I mean, me either. I get it dude, I get it. And besides, no one here even cares."

​

Tanner piped up, trying to agree with Mike but Bill snarled at him angrily, saying,

​

"Shut the fuck up, Tanner! This is all your fault!"

​

Tanner looked wounded once again and it hurt me inside. He just wanted to help his friend. He cared about Bill, I could tell. Michael intervened, stepping towards Tanner and saying,

​

"Give him some space bro, he's just upset."

​

Tanner nodded, hanging his head. Michael put a hand on the blonde's shoulder, and I felt myself begin to get jealous, but I made myself calm down, reminding myself that even if Mike had been trying to hit on Tanner (and he wasn't, he was trying to help), that I had no right to be upset anyway. Michael wasn't mine.

​

"Just let him calm down, dude."

​

Tanner nodded, sadly, and went inside his tent. Bill looked disgusted. I didn't know if it was with Tanner or with himself. Mike addressed Bill again,

​

"Look, nobody here is judging you anyway, bro. I promise. And it won't leave this circle."

​

Bill looked at me and I shook my head 'no', trying my best to look innocent. Did he suspect that I was the one who had seen him sucking Tanner's cock earlier?

​

He looked at Mitch, who said, in that deep, gravelly voice of his,

​

"I'm definitely not judging you, bro. And I would never tell anyone. You're cool."

​

"I'm not gay. I'm really not. It's just... just Tanner."

​

Bill protested, to Mitch specifically.

​

"No dude, I get it. I understand. More than you know."

​

He waited until Bill looked away to glance over at me. I felt my cheeks flare up.

​

"Mutually assured destruction."

​

Mike said, smiling at Bill. Bill just shook his head, groaning and wiping sweat off his forehead.

​

"Yeah, dude. Well."

​

Bill looked at his tent and sighed, then he looked at Mitch for a moment, and continued,

​

"Can I sleep with you?"

​

Mitch hesitated for just a second before agreeing, but Bill had already cut him off, frantically pleading his case.

​

"I mean sleep! Like... sleep! I just don't want to... ah, fuck it! Whatever!"

​

He crawled into his and Tanner's tent. I released a breath I hadn't even known I was holding. Mitch shrugged at me and Michael and went back into his own tent. The breeze was the only sound for a minute or two, as Michael and I watched the embers of the barely lit campfire glow in the moonlight.

​

"Thank you."

​

I whispered, softly. Michael shot me a tender look.

​

"You're my bro. I'd never let anything happen to you."

​

I wanted to tell that I loved him, but my mouth just wouldn't let me say the words, keeping them locked inside my head. Instead, I just responded,

​

"I know."

​

I opened the tent flap and put one foot inside; looking back, I saw Michael drop his briefs.

​

"What are you doing?"

​

I asked, kind of shocked, also, at the fact that this entire scene had happened while he was still in his underwear.

​

"Putting out the campfire!"

​

He grinned back at me and let out a stream of piss, extinguishing the last of the dying embers.

​

To be continued...

I was pretty nervous, back at the campsite as it started to get dark. My hope that Michael would finally let me suck his dick tonight had been mixed with anxiety over how domineering he had been in the woods earlier. Michael had always been a pretty dominant guy, but he'd never taken it so far before, not with me. I don't know about with girls. He'd sometimes brag to me about fucking them but he rarely got into details. When he did though, he did sound kinda dominant. One time he'd told me that after sex he rubbed his dick all over a girl's face before she went to work so she'd smell like his cock. That sounded pretty degrading to me, but he'd always been so cool to me, he'd always defended me and had never hurt me before; although he did play around sometimes and push me or give me a noogie or a punch on the arm, but that's just guy stuff, right?

I decided to walk around the river bank so I could loosen the tension from my body; unfortunately, it also gave me plenty of time to think about things, which only added to my stress. There was the thing with Mitch, which was very confusing and made me sad because he'd said we could never hook up again. And there was how Tanner had kissed me in the woods earlier, which was even more confusing, because despite the fact that he apparently loved showing off his dick to anyone and everyone, he stopped me when I'd tried to go further. So why had he even kissed me on the first place? It was his idea. Most confusing of all, though, was Michael. I couldn't figure out what he wanted from me anymore. Sometimes it seemed like he liked me and sometimes it seemed like he hated me. And I wasn't sure it would get any clearer.

Just as had happened earlier that day, Mitch found me. I said hi to him, he said hi back, but he seemed distracted or, maybe, scared of what he wanted to say. So I took the initiative.

"Hey, look. I'm sorry if I caused... well. I'm sorry if I made your life more complicated. Getting caught by Mike and everything. And you worrying... well, I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Mitch looked rather surprised, which was not what I expected.

"Thank you... I mean thanks, but no, you don't have to apologize. You know Mike better than I do, I mean you've known him for... what? A decade? I've only known him for like two years, we work out together. If you say he won't tell anyone then I believe you, I trust you."

"Thank you." I said. It felt good to hear from him that he trusted me. It made me feel warm inside. I continued, "But still, I'm sorry if what we happened caused you problems."

"Not at all," Mitch replied, with a sense of genuineness, raising his eyebrows, "actually I'm glad it happened. Do I wish Mike didn't catch us? Sure, but like you said, he won't tell anyone, and I believe you. No, I wouldn't take it back, I'm glad it happened."

He looked incredibly handsome in the moonlight, as dusk was just beginning to be extinguished, the sun totally gone from view. His stern, square jaw was slack, his lips partially parted in a way that suggested vulnerability. I wanted to kiss him, but was definitely not going to ask. He continued talking,

"Actually I wanted to ask you something. No relation to what I just said."

He seemed nervous, interjecting his last line firmly, but his voice was still slightly shaky. I nodded, smiling as nicely as I could. He gave a little laugh and continued,

"I actually wanted to keep in touch with you. The camping trip is over tomorrow, I didn't want to lose touch. Just to hang out with you, you know, just to chill. And stuff."

"Yeah, we can hang out. And chill. And stuff. Of course, dude."

"Well uh," he took out his phone, "what's your number?"

I gave it to him.

"Alright, cool." He said. He seemed like he didn't know what to do or say next. "Well. Anyway. Bye, I'll text you... when we get back to town, you know."

He held out his fist. I bumped it, awkwardly. It wasn't something I did often, especially not with guys as hot as he was. He nodded to me and walked away.

I didn't want to go back to camp just yet. Truth be told, I was a bit scared of what would happen when I got into my tent with Michael. The way he had treated me had scared me. His sudden sexual advances and pulling back had been confusing enough, especially after a decade of regular friendship, but his switch up to dominating me had terrified me. Not as much as I'd terrified myself by folding, obeying him so easily. What did that say about me?

Wrapped in thought, I had wandered further and further from our camp, not noticing I was already in the woods past the lake until I heard voices. I froze. Not twenty feet from me, only partially obscured by branches and darkness, lit slightly by the cold moonlight, Tanner and Bill were talking in low voices. I made the bold decision to creep closer so that I could hear, hiding myself behind a bush.

"Come on," Tanner whined, "Just do it. Come on, man."

Bill was speaking in an even more hushed tone, saying "No, what if we get caught."

"We won't! There's no one around. They're all back at camp."

"Lance isn't. He left, remember? I didn't see him come back. Did you?"

"Dude, he's walking by the lake," Tanner replied, "he's not gonna come all the way over here. He probably went back by now anyway."

"We just can't take the risk!"Bill hissed. Tanner kept pressing him,

"Bro come on! You won't do it in the tent because you're so scared, pussy. Speaking of, there's none around here. I'm used to fucking like two bitches a week at LEAST!"

"What the fuck are you saying, I don't get pussy? Are you calling me a faggot?"

"I never fucking said that!" Tanner rolled his eyes, "all I said was-"

Bill cut him off,

"Oh yeah, I know what you're implying."

"Dude, come on. Nobody's gonna catch us. Besides, they probably wouldn't even care, considering what they're doing."

"What? What are you talking about?"Bill interjected. I felt anxiety rise up in my chest as Tanner continued,

"Nothing, I'm just saying... some of the things I've seen, they wouldn't tell anyone."

"What have you seen? You're saying they're gay? Who?!"

"No, I haven't seen anything! Not like that, I'm just saying..."

But Bill wouldn't let it go. He responded, saying,

"But who the fuck are you talking about? None of these guys are gay. I mean, Mike sure isn't. I know him. And Mitch really isn't the type dude, plus I know some of the girls he's fucked. Lance is the only one..."

I held my breath. Bill continued,

"I mean he's shy. But that doesn't mean he's gay. He's just a shy guy, kind of a nerd. Kind of dude I used to bully back in high school, actually."

He chuckled. Tanner rolled his eyes. I finally let myself breathe out.

"I didn't say Lance was gay. Look, Bill, it doesn't even matter. Just come on. Nobody's gonna catch us."

"Oh yeah, you didn't see shit. It's just an excuse to get me to let you fuck me."

Bill lowered his voice when he said those last two words.

"Are you saying you don't me to?"

Tanner asked, cockily. Bill let out an exasperated gasp.

"I didn't fucking say that."

"Then come on! I'll be quick."

Tanner shot a cocky grin at Bill and started to fondle his large bulge. His massive dick began to swell in his shorts. Bill watched with his mouth open. I could see he was defeated.

"You never are." He replied. Tanner chuckled.

"I will be tonight, just for you Billy."

Bill shook his head and replied,

"Faggot."

In response, Tanner hauled his massive horse cock out of his shorts, flopping it thickly onto his palm. It was already probably 10 inches. Bill seemed mesmerized by his friend's huge member, as was I.

"Come on man, suck on it, get it wet."

Tanner wheedled. He didn't have to ask Bill twice. Bill dropped to his knees and began to suck tenderly on his friend's bulbous cock head. It seemed like it barely even fit into the guy's mouth, and I wondered how he'd even get Tanner's cock inside there at all.

Plus, to be honest, I was quite shocked. Tanner was fairly manly, I mean he was a "dude" for sure, but Bill was extremely masculine, even moreso than Michael. He was just so damn macho, both in appearance and affect, yet here he was sucking on another guy's cock. I understood why he was afraid to hook up in the tent like he'd implied earlier. It was more embarrassing to be a "bottom" than a top if you were ever found out.

That didn't stop Bill from continuing to suck on his friend's hard boner– a boner that seemed to just keep getting bigger and bigger, nearly stretching belief. It was now probably twelve inches, and kept getting bigger. Bill had to virtually unhinge his jaw to get the entire thing inside; it was almost grotesque. Tanner groaned and flopped his head back, eyes closed, exposing the adam's apple I found so sexy. Bill, incredibly, kept going deeper and deeper and deeper, gagging as the monstrous cock slammed into the entrance to his throat despite not even being at the halfway point when it came to Tanner's dick size. The girth was so vast that it looked like it would split Bill's mouth open into a joker smile, yet Bill looked supremely happy, even with tears in his eyes and streaming down his face. I suddenly realized that my hand was in my pants and I was jerking off an erection maybe a third of the size of Tanner's. I felt perversely humiliated and aroused in a dichotomous split of emotions.

Tanner grabbed the sides of Bill's head and began to slowly hump the guy's throat– only to the halfway point–as Bill, hands gripping Tanner's thighs, gagged loudly. I was scared he would throw up. I wondered if I would puke if I ever ended up sucking Michael's massive dick and felt a glob of slimy precum ooze out of my cock head. I spread it all over my boner and continued to jerk off. Suddenly, Tanner slammed his gargantuan erection straight down Bill's throat, only maybe an inch or two from the base of his dick. Bill struggled, trying to yell, but the tremendous dick that impaled him like a stake muffled his cries. Tanner let out a grunt of 'awww haw hawwww' sounding like he was on the border between pleasure and frustration. He kept Bill's skull locked into his crotch with his big hands as the guy flailed. I almost felt bad for old Billy. Finally, Tanner let go, his friend tumbling onto the forest floor and sputtering for a good breath of air.

"You fucking asshole!" Bill exclaimed. Tanner chuckled with a cocksure grin.

"Sorry bro, but FUCK that feels good. You know I love head, and girls will never take it to the base. Hell, they barely even go past the head. I fucking loooovvee your mouth, dude."

"Er, thanks... but fuck you!"

Tanner stuck his tongue out, mockingly. "Think it's supposed to be the other way around. It's wet as hell now, take your pants off, dude."

Bill stood up, crossing his arms in protest, but his expression was one of playfulness. I could tell he wasn't really mad, clearly they'd played this game before. I was the only one who didn't know the rules.

"What are you gonna give me if I do?" Bill asked.

"Um... my big cock?"

"Eh," Bill shrugged, "not good enough. What else?"

"Cigarettes for a week?"

Bill shook his head. "Nahhh. I was thinking something a little more... enjoyable."

Tanner looked scared. "What's that?" he asked. Bill knew exactly what he wanted."

"I want you to suck ME off, dude."

"Awww, come on man! You know I don't like doing that!" Tanner threw his hands up in exasperation, Bill just smiled.

"You think I like sucking yours?"

Tanner raised an eyebrow and gave little chuckle. Bill kept talking, clearly flustered and embarrassed, "Look, it doesn't even fucking matter if I do or not! I want you to suck mine! Come on man... you never do, almost never, and you know I like it. The last time was... fuck, I can't even remember it was so long ago! Please man, just once!"

"Dude, I can't."

"Well. I guess we can go back to camp."

Bill took a single step towards the lake, but Tanner caught his arm, quickly saying, "Okay, fine! You win, bro! But you have to let me cum in you."

"Goddamnit Tan, fuck no! That's gay as fuck!"

"Gayer than what we're already doing?"

Tanner asked. Bill's look could have withered a flower or a cock. Not Tanner's though, apparently, which was still rock hard, and jutting out from his thin body obscenely. I now understood the phrase 'third leg'.

"Spit on it."

Bill ordered. Tanner let a fat wad of saliva drop down from his lips, drooling onto his dick, and jerked it off with the spit still there from Bill's cock sucking. It started to congeal into thick cream. Bill just stood and watched, I could see his own bulge was getting pretty big inside of his basketball shorts. Tanner reached over and tenderly slipped his fingers into the blue shorts, pulling Bill closer to him as he did so. He grinned and started to kiss Bill's jaw and cheek, but Bill protested.

"No man, don't do that man, don't kiss me. I don't like that shit."

"I like your face though. I can't help it." Tanner said, jovially, almost like he was joking. Bill turned deep red, the maroon of a soccer mom's SUV.

"Stop man, don't joke like that. It's not funny."

"I'm not joking."

Tanner replied, in a husky whisper as he kissed Bill's ear and simultaneously pulled the guy's shorts down to his knees, pressing his hand onto Bill's grey briefs (the same kind Michael wore, only not white). I could see Bill's dick clearly in his underwear, a long stick that stretched halfway across his leg. Tanner stroked Bill's boner through his briefs. Bill looked frustrated and embarrassed, his head thrown back and eyes closed, moaning as Tanner continued to kiss his face, getting closer and closer to his lips. Tanner continued to milk Bill's dick, and I could just barely see a wet spot on his briefs where the precum had stained them. Then, Tanner kissed Bill, softly. Bill opened his eyes, and the look on his face was one of shock, but not the kind where he seemed upset or mad. In fact, he looked incredibly vulnerable, something rather surprising to see on the face of someone so macho and crude. He looked into Tanner's eyes and then kissed Tanner– just a small one. Tanner pulled Bill tight and dragged his briefs down to his knees to gather with his shorts, freeing his hard cock, which jumped out. I could see that he was uncut, his foreskin covering his head. Precum dripped out onto the forest floor. Tanner slid his hand into Bill's ass crack, through a forest of hair, and Bill jumped slightly; Tanner used more kisses to calm him down. Bill whimpered as Tanner pressed his finger onto his hole. He looked at Tanner with a look of intense longing.

"You want me to fuck you?" Tanner whispered into Bill's ear, biting it softly as he did so. Bill didn't answer, so Tanner repeated himself again, "Do you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes, goddamnit, yes!" Bill hissed, urgently. Tanner swiftly spun Bill around, slamming him into a tree, and tried to shove his shiny, bulbous cock head into Bill's ass. I was nonplussed at the fact that he actually managed to get it in. Bill groaned with a mixture of ecstasy and pain.

Unfortunately, it was at that moment, distracted with trying to masturbate, my knees weakened from crouching, that I fell down on my ass onto the leaves with a crunching thud.

"Someone's there!" Bill exclaimed.

"Come on, it's just a squirrel. Please, please Bill. I need it bad."

I tried to get back up, making even more noise, and in the process slammed my hand into a thorny bush and cried out. The guys looked at each other. I was terrified. What would they do if they caught me? Beat me up? Kill me? Let me join?

Tanner slowly crept over to where I was, I shivered in fear. I bit my thumb as he pushed branches and leaves out of the way. When he saw me, sprawled out on the forest floor, dick erect in my pants and breathing shakily, he said nothing, but only looked at me with a sad understanding. He felt bad for me, he wasn't mad at all.

"Who is it?" Bill called out. My heart was pounding like a racehorse.

"I don't see anyone." Tanner replied.

Bill started to walk over to where we were, and Tanner looked at me and urgently mouthed, 'RUN'. I needed nothing else. I bolted, running as fast as I could until I was already at the camp without even remembering just exactly how I'd gotten there. I felt like I was gonna puke. Quick as a flash, I unzipped my tent and threw myself into it, slamming my body down onto my sleeping bag and gasping for air.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Asked Mike.

I looked over to see him propped up on his elbow, hairy pecs and legs exposed, in nothing but his white briefs, bulge staring at me. I realized I was incredibly horny.

"Just exercising." I lied. I could tell he didn't buy it.

"Whatever. You always get a boner when you jog?"

I looked down to verify. Not only was I hard, there was a huge wet area on my crotch. I laughed nervously and said nothing. Michael just smirked, and reached over and touched the smaller tent. The tent inside a tent. He looked at me with a look I couldn't register and slid his finger into my waistband, pulling my shorts down. My boxers were even more soaked.

"Looks like something REALLY turned you on. I wonder what it was."

"Just thinking of you." I said boldly.

"Yeah, I'll bet."

Michael began to pull my boxers down, but I grabbed his hand in protest. He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Wait Mike, I'm scared."

"Haven't we been over this, bud? Get over it."

I raised myself up partially, propping myself up on my arms.

"Mike. I'm just... confused. The way you treated me earlier scared me. You've never spoken to me like that before, man. I dunno what's going on."

"Are you really scared of what I did?" 0He asked. I nodded.

"Are you really scared of what I did? Or are you scared of the way you responded?"

"Michael," I whined, "I don't understand why you dominated me and I don't understand why I obeyed."

Michael laughed, which kinda surprised me. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair. Fuck he looked so cute. He had such boyish features, but a five o' clock shadow from not shaving for two days, and a hairy, muscular, manly body. I almost forgot what we were talking about when I noticed the way his hazel eyes contrasted with the black hair on his head and everywhere else on his body. It made him look striking.

"You don't? You really don't understand why you obeyed?" He asked me.

"No. I don't."

"It's cause of this!"

He countered, and released his massive, thick, soft cock from his briefs. I could only stare in awe. He wagged it at me and I groaned, which made him chuckle. God, he was full of himself. But whose fault was that?

"You're gonna do whatever the fuck I say cause I've got this huge dick bro. You're gonna be my little servant boy from now on. You're gonna do what I say, when I say. If I want you to be my foot rest, you will. If I want you to suck my cock and take it up the ass 10 times a day, you will. If I tell you to clean my house and give me your TV, you will. Cause you're my little slave. A slave to this massive cock. You're cock whipped, boy. You're in love with me!"

I whimpered and looked up at him. I realized I was drooling.

"Please, Michael, please! I can't stand the way you're treating me. Aren't we friends?"

"Yeah, but you're still in love with me and my dick. Admit it, homo."

I gulped. I felt anxiety deep in my bones. I did love him. I felt bad.

"But I love you, Michael. I love you and you're my best friend. So why are you treating me like this? Do you hate me?"

First, he looked confused, then his face softened. He fixed my hair and wiped the drool off my chin.

"Bro, come on. I don't hate you at all. I mean... ah, fuck!"

He put his face in his hands. I could tell he was having a hard time. I said sorry. His head snapped up to look at me.

"You matter to me. A lot, actually. You think I've been your friend for ten years just to suddenly hate you for no reason?"

"Well..." I stammered, "I just thought... cause you said I'm a homo, that I love you-"

"I've known you were in love with me since we were 15, dude. So fucking what? I don't care. You are important to me, Lance. Don't ever think you aren't."

I almost wanted to cry, it was the nicest thing Mike had ever said, probably to anyone, ever. My body felt hot. My dick was even harder and I wanted to kiss him.

"Wow, Michael, wow..."

He touched the side of my cheek. I thought he was about to kiss me, but then his hand ran down my neck, pushed into my hairless chest, and kept going, down my belly to my stomach. He started to pull down my boxers but I stopped him.

"But... but Mike, why are you treating me this way then? I don't get it."

"Cause you want me to. Don't deny it, Lance, don't deny it. I know what's best for you. You want me to control you, you know why?"

I shook my head.

"Cause if I don't control you, you won't get what you want. Haven't I always tried to help you not hate yourself so much? You are just too damn shy. You're afraid to take what you want. If I don't make you, you won't even do it. So you want me to control you, you want me to control you so that you can finally get what you want, Lance. And what you want is for me to dominate you. You want me to love you and care about you, and I do. I might not love you in the same way you love me and I'm sorry about that. I wish I could, so I could make you happy, but I can't. I'm not gay. But I can fuck you. And I can make you into my obedient slave, which is what you crave, deep down inside. Are you gonna obey me or not? Do you want to be my obedient little dog?"

I couldn't even answer, I just stuttered.

"You don't have to say yes. You can say no. Things will go back to how they were before, I won't hold it against you or leave you. This is something you have to agree to. But if you do, I think you'll be very, very happy. And so will I. I want an obedient little bitch. Don't you want be my obedient little bitch, Lance?"

"I don't know."

He shook his head in mock disappointment.

"Poor little Lance. You just don't know anything, do you? Look, I'm gonna go take a piss. You think about it, you got like 2 minutes. When I get back, tell me what you want. Cause I know what I want. I'm gonna make you into my robot and you're gonna be the happiest you've ever been."

He started to get up.

"Wait! Michael... Michael, if I say yes will you keep me safe? I mean, if you're controlling me and telling me what to do you could really ruin my life."

"Lance, what did I JUST say? Fuck, man. I said don't ever think I don't care about you cause I do. You think I'd take advantage of someone I care about? Come on, man. I'd never hurt you. This shit isn't easy for me to say, dude. I'm not a real emotional person. So please just remember that, cause I don't like repeating it. And chill."

I swallowed. Michael patted the top of my head as he got up to go pee, his monster cock swinging in my face. What the hell was I gonna do when he got back?

When we finally caught up with everyone else, I noticed that Bill and Tanner were cutting branches off with a knife. Apparently, they had decided that they were going to make a fire to try and make s'mores, despite the fact that it was midday. I thought this was kinda dumb cause it was so hot out, but whatever, you know? We all sat down around the soon-to-be fire, some of us on logs, some of us on our backpacks, and Tanner on the dirt, just as tall as everyone else who were sitting on something.

Bill pulled out a couple of Cokes and, handing one to Mitch, who was sitting next to him, began to chug as Tanner tried to start a fire. I was sitting next to Bill as well, and so it nearly broke my eardrum when he fired off one of the loudest beaches I had ever heard in my life. Tanner let out a 'whoop!' while Mitch looked at me and grinned.

"See if you can beat that one!"

Bill said, flexing in mock victory. I noted once again how absolutely *massive* his biceps were. He rubbed his distended gut as Mitch downed his drink in the same fashion that Bill just had. I watched Mitch suck in air like a fish gasping for air as it flopped on dry land– then, he let out a burp so deep and loud that it drawfed Bill's and made my heart beat faster; and while he did so, he threw his head back, opening his mouth wide and puffing his chest out. I felt my dick harden and wanted to drop to my knees in awe and worship him as a true alpha male.

"Holy shit!"

Exclaimed Bill. Mitch nodded cockily.

"I think that's cause his voice is so deep."

Tanner said.

"Yeah, well watch this."

Bill countered, taking another soda from his bag. He absentmindedly slid his hand down the front of his pants as he chugged it. His fingers went down his waistband, while his thumb stuck out. You could see the hair on his belly poking out.

'Fuck, that's hot!' I thought to myself. Bill wasn't exactly my type, he was shaved bald like a skinhead and had a round beer belly, but he was muscular as hell and had the type of manliness you'd associate with your uncle or something. It made me want to throw myself on the ground in defeat and resign my life to being nothing but his doormat. Suddenly, hand still down his pants, he jerked his head over toward me and let out a deep, primal belch, right in my face. It stank of coke and doritos. Flecks of spit peppered my face, and I could see into his mouth as he degraded me with his roaring burp. Tanner almost rolled over in laughter and reached over to give Bill a high five, saying

"Fuck yeah, dude!"

"I'm the fucking king!"

Shouted Bill, and crushed his coke can on top of my head, which hurt, and sent little rivulets of soda down my forehead. Tanner snickered at me. I deflated. I had never felt so humiliated in my life. All 4 of these guys were either grinning and laughing at Bill's cocky display of power over me. I was completely and totally emasculated. And, to make matters worse, when I looked over at Michael, expecting the help he had always given me, not only was he grinning but his leg was so close to Mitch's that their thighs were touching.

I jumped up and walked into the woods. I felt awful. Partially because I'd just been trampled all over and publicly shamed, exposed as a total weakling while everyone, including my best friend and protector, laughed; but also, and moreso, because I was scared that Michael might be trying, or want to, fuck Mitch now that he knew he was... well, I wasn't sure what Mitch was. He said he was straight, but he'd just let me suck his dick. Guys are weird like though, after all Michael said *he* was straight and he'd jerked me off and, at the very least, wanted me to suck *his* dick. I was really scared. What if Michael was tired of me? Mitch was so much cooler than I was, and hotter. What if he hadn't helped me out because he decided he would rather have Mitch as a best friend instead? I was interrupted by a hand on my shoulder. I whirled around to see Mitcb.

"Hey. You okay?"

He asked. I nodded.

"Bill's just like that, man. Don't get upset. It's just immature games, like I said. He didn't mean anything by it."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to ask Mitch if he would ever do anything with Michael, to beg and plead him not to, but I couldn't reveal that Michael had done stuff with me, it wouldn't be right.

"Can I ask you a question though?"

I gulped. That phrase has always filled me with anxiety, but at least he hadn't followed with 'I'm not trying to offend you'.

"You don't think... Mike would ever tell anyone about what happened, do you?"

He had dropped his deep voice to a whisper, even though there was nobody around.

"Hell no. I know for a fact that he wouldn't."

I said.

"Are you sure? If anyone were to find out, it would ruin me. I'm kinda scared, man."

I looked at him, sympathetically. I knew just how he felt.

"I know he wouldn't do that. Trust me."

"I do," he replied, "you know that I do. I mean, you never told anyone about when you saw me pissing the first day. If you say he won't tell anyone then I believe you."

I saw how the sun highlighted the side of Mitch's face. His brown hair had glints of gold in it, his jaw looked even wider; a shadow of contrast was produced on the left side of his face. I gazed at his eyes, and his cute ears that were a little too small for his head, and his wet lips. He saw the way I looked at him and almost smiled, a tiny curve on the right side of his lip.

"I, um. Can I... ask *you* a question?"

"Go ahead."

Mitch drawled. I tensed my fist to try and draw courage into myself.

"Can I, um, kiss you?"

I asked. It would have been my first kiss. He looked so handsome, standing there before me. I remembered how his large hands had felt on the back of my head, less than an hour before, how he'd moaned in ecstasy as he came down my throat. He blushed at my request and began to fidget nervously.

"Lance, I don't... I don't know what to say. I wanted to tell you this, but I don't want to hurt your feelings. I don't think we should... I don't think we *can* do this again."

My heart sunk. It felt really bad, especially on top of my fear that my best friend might leave me for him.

"Please, don't get the wrong idea," he continued, "I mean I actually... well. Look. This is really hard for me to say."

He turned his head to look around at the woods and pulled his shirt down, breathing shakily. He kept talking,

"I actually like you. I do. I mean, I'm straight, but you're not real manly, and I'm not trying to be mean when I say that, not at all. You're cute, you're actually cute. I think you're cute, Lance."

He touched the side of my my face, looking at me tenderly, and then buried his head in his hands, like he was embarrassed. He sighed and crossed his arms.

"It's just... that was the first time I've ever done anything at all with a guy. The first time I've even wanted to. And you saw what happened, and that scares me. I can't get caught again, and nobody can ever know. It's just too risky. And I'm really, really sorry Lance, because I don't want to hurt you at all and I feel really bad. But I just can't."

I smiled weakly.

"It's okay," I said, "I get it. It's a shame."

Mitch ran his hand through his hair, nervously.

"I'm sorry. Honestly, I am."

"You don't have to keep apologizing. I understand."

Mitch looked around again, then leaned in and kissed me on the lips, so quickly I didn't have any time to react, and then walked away.

I walked a little further and sat down on a stump and began to cry. Everything seemed to be falling apart. Mitch was the first guy I'd gone as far as sucking off, and he was very nice to me and I liked him a lot, but he was going to leave me. Michael was my best friend of over a decade, and I was terrified he was going to leave me too. I didn't understand him. Why did he keep starting something with me and then stopping before it got very far? Was he leaving me because I was gay? Or because he now thought Mitch might do for him what he wanted me to do? Would Mitch and he become best friends instead? I wanted to go home. I wanted Michael to make me feel better like he'd always used to do.

"Hey... what's wrong?"

Quickly smearing the tears from my face with my hands, I turned to see Tanner towering over me. From my lower vantage point, I could actually see the impression of his cock head in his basketball shorts staring down at me, but even this didn't raise my spirits.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

I looked away. The woods were gorgeous, dappled with sunlight. I just wanted to be alone. No such luck, though. Tanner got down and sat next to me, on the dead, brown pine needles. He put his arms across his knees.

"You wouldn't be crying if you were fine. We don't know each other that well, but you can tell me. I'm not gonna make fun of you. This time."

He gave a little, kind chuckle.

"Is it cause of Bill?"

I shook my head.

"What, then?"

I couldn't tell him, obviously. I couldn't tell him any of it, and I felt bad that I couldn't, because it seemed like he really just wanted to help. I hadn't seen this side of him before. He wasn't being goofy or cocky, just caring. Which made me feel even worse because I remembered that Michael didn't care anymore, and that made me start to cry again, just a little.

"Hey..."

Tanner messed up my hair. His hand was bigger than my head. It made me feel like a dumb kid being teased by his older brother.

"Is it any of us?"

I didn't answer, just tried to breath and calm myself. This whole situation was so embarrassing. Tanner poked his finger into my ear which made me wince and cover it. He grinned.

"Sorry, I had to."

I turned away. I just wanted to be alone, and I didn't want to answer any questions. I couldn't tell him anyway. He sighed.

"Look, man. I don't know what's wrong, but I'm sorry. Sorry if Bill upset you. He was just joking. And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you last night."

I whirled around, my face red. His blue eyes looked at me in a surprisingly nice way. I could see that he was being sincere, but it didn't stop me from feeling scared and ashamed.

"I was just being a dumbass. I mess around a lot. I didn't tell anyone. You don't have to worry about it."

"About what?"

I asked. I needed to know if he had realized I was gay or if he only meant that I'd gotten a boner when he showed off his dick.

"You know..."

"But what... exactly?"

"Well. There's only one reason I can think of that someone would get a boner when they see another guy's dick, man."

I looked away. My worst fears had come true. Surely this time, I was screwed. Why did this keep happening to me?

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm just saying, if you're worried I'll tell someone you're gay, don't be. I won't."

I almost started to cry again, but didn't. I turned to face him, but cheeks burning. He looked at me like he felt bad for me, letting out a sharp breath.

"Did I just make things worse?"

"Kind of."

I said, giving a defeated, cynical laugh. Nothing was going my way, that was for sure. Although, I guess things could have been worse.

"I'm sorry. Do you like me?"

"What?"

I was incredulous. Had Tanner just asked me if I liked him? It came so out of left field that I was stunned.

"Do you like me? You got a boner."

"Why... would you ask me that?"

He shrugged.

"Just wondering."

I studied him. The blonde hair that was trying to shove its way out of his backwards hat, his little sideburns; his elongated face, naturally red cheeks, the big adam's apple that bobbed up and down when he spoke. He was cute. Not hot, or traditionally attractive, but he was handsome.

"Yeah."

I answered simply.

"Hmm. Is it just cause my dick is big, or what?"

"No. You're... attractive."

I said, feeling a bit scared to say the wrong thing. I didn't want to upset him. I knew almost nothing about him other than that he was class clown type with a monster cock. He smiled at me and nodded.

"Hey, thanks. That's nice."

"You're welcome."

We both just stared at nature for a while, watching the wind push through the leaves every once in a while, listening to the squirrels clamber around on the trees, and the birds call to one another. Finally, Tanner spoke again.

"You know, I think a lot of girls don't really like me at all, they just like my horse cock. It's kind of fucked up. You bisexual? Or just gay?"

I replied that I was gay, but said it so quietly that I had to repeat myself.

"Yeah, that's cool. So you never fucked a girl before, not even once?"

"Nope."

"What about a guy? Would you fuck a guy or get fucked?"

I didn't know how to answer. I'd never had penetrative sex before at all.

"I don't know."

I said truthfully. Then I had to explain that I was a virgin and had never even kissed anyone. I seemed to have already forgotten the peck Mitch had given me. Tanner seemed surprised, and bunched his face up like he was thinking, for several minutes. Finally, he said,

"You could kiss me if you want. If you want to, I mean."

I stared at him, which seemed to make him embarrassed, which made him look even more attractive.

"I meant... well, I was just joking."

"Please?"

I asked, swallowing the excess spit that had suddenly been produced as a reaction to my nervousness.

"Please? Can I?"

I repeated. Tanner hesitated and then nodded, his mouth already slightly open.

"I don't really know how to."

My voice was shaking as I admitted that. Tanner cleared his throat.

"Okay. I can show you."

He moved closer to me, still sitting on the ground. We looked into each other's eyes and I felt my heart beat faster and my dick jumped. He was so handsome, almost beautiful. He looked away for a second, and gathering his resolve, turned back toward me, grabbed my right shoulder, and leaned in to kiss me. He was sort of rough, quickly pushing his tongue into my mouth. I tried to kiss him without using my tongue, but he insisted. It was like he wanted to feel the inside of my mouth, to see what it was like. When he broke the kiss, I looked up at him, longing for him to do it again, although more tenderly. He smiled at me, shyly. He looked embarrassed. I kissed him on the lips and he let me do it more slowly, without using his tongue. My arm pushed itself onto his chest without my control, sliding down his stomach. Mitch pulled away, looking at me in surprise. The expression looked incredibly cute on him, his blue eyes gleaming bright in a mix of shock and gentleness.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

I apologized.

"It's okay. It's not your fault. But I didn't mean... anything else. Just a kiss."

I nodded, hanging my head.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

He apologized to me, but I knew I was the one who owed him an apology, and said so.

"Nah, you're cool. I gotta go, though."

He stood up.

"You coming with me?"

He helped me up. I felt good, holding his hand, if only for a brief moment. We walked back to the clearing where everyone else was making smore's in the blazing summer sun. Michael looked angry when he saw me coming back with Tanner, and whispered something to Mitch, who looked at us. Which, of course, only hurt me more, and ensured I kept talking with Tanner until we left to go back to camp.

On the way back, Michael grabbed my shoulder and held me tight, causing me to walk slowly so that we fell behind everyone else.

"What were you doing with Tanner earlier?"

He asked. I got cocky.

"I don't know, probably making out or something. Why do you care?"

He glared at me.

"I don't, stupid. I just wondered if you were being a gay slut again."

What he had said hurt my feelings and I blurted out,

"Oh, like you're probably trying to be with Mitch, that's why you don't give a fuck about me anymore."

Michael looked genuinely confused and asked me what I was talking about, and I just stuttered.

"You think I'm gonna fuck Mitch? Why?"

"I just meant... I don't know. I thought you liked him."

Michael just laughed.

"You're the one that sucked his dick but you think *I* like him?"

I felt dumb and ashamed.

"You just laughed when Bill did that to me earlier. And your leg was touching Mitch's."

"Oh, my leg was touching his, was it? You are just ridiculous, boy. Get down on the ground."

"Huh?"

"I said get down on the ground."

I just stared at Mike, confused. He asked if he had to repeat himself. I got down on my knees after looking to make sure that we weren't in sight of the other guys.

"Now stand up."

I stood up. He told me to get back on my knees and I did it again. We repeated the routine again. Then he told me to lay down, so I laid on my back. He stepped on top of me like I was a carpet. My dick was rock hard. He looked like a god from my vantage point. His shorts bulged, straining to hold his package in, and the sun struck his black hair, his sculpted face and arms. After a few minutes he crouched down, still on top of me, and gave a cocky little grin.

"Don't start acting like a bitch and getting jealous. You're not my girlfriend. You do what I say, you understand me?"

I nodded. I was blinking, holding back tears. I had certainly seen Michael's dominant side, but never like this. It was almost cruel.

"You're gonna be obedient. You're gonna listen. You're my robot."

I nodded again. He smiled and got off of me and helped me up, and then kissed my forehead. I felt like my mind was blank.

"You're my friend, Lance. You've always been my friend. I've always protected you, haven't I?"

"Yes."

I said, meekly.

"If it had been someone trying to hurt you it would have been way different. But Bill was just fucking around. You need to chill. And haven't I always tried to help you?"

"Yes."

"You need to listen to me. If you just listen to me, you will be happy and you will feel better about yourself. That's what I want."

"Okay."

I replied.

"You alright? Sorry if I hurt you."

"I'm just confused. You hurt my feelings."

"You have a boner."

I did, in fact, have a boner.

"Sorry if I hurt your feelings. But be a good boy and listen to me and everything will be okay. Anyway, being under my feet is probably the safest place you could me. No one can hurt you there."

He spit onto the forest floor. It was kind of funny though, he was right. As long as he was on top of me, I was safe.

I sat on my sleeping bag, dick still out and still rock hard, waiting for my friend Michael to get back from taking a piss. I still wasn't sure what he meant to do, if he wanted to continue where we'd left off or if he was tired of me. Was he even into guys? Some of the things he said made me think that that wasn't the case, but on the other hand... he had jacked me off, even though he hadn't let me cum, and he also implied he'd let me suck his dick. He just refused to suck mine. I didn't understand him, but I figured I may as well leave my dick out. Despite my shame around my dick size, I couldn't deny the fact that the extreme difference between the sizes of our members made me feel even further aroused, especially when Michael was so cocky and masculine, and I was so... not. I got the feeling that he really liked the difference too, that it made him feel like the shit because he was so massive compared to me, even though he repeatedly tried to make me feel better about it, and had *always* tried to make me feel confident. But I just wasn't a confident person.

I heard voices talking outside of the tent, and looked up to see a shadow standing in front of the entrance, but not coming in.

"I think he's asleep, I don't want to wake him up"

Said Michael.

"Oh, come on man. Bill already fell asleep and I'm bored. There's not shit to do out here!"

Pleaded the other voice, before continuing,

"It's not like there's any girls to screw!"

Michael gave a half-hearted laugh. I saw two hands push through the tent-flap and frantically pulled my pants and underwear up, trying to hide my boner; but not before a face pushed its way inside.

Luckily, it was Mike. He smirked, knowingly, watching me quickly try to adjust my erection so that it was hidden. When he crawled inside, another guy followed. It was Tanner. I felt self-conscious about being shirtless, and started to put my shirt on but, sitting down across from me and Michael– who was now laying down on his sleeping bag, propping himself up with his elbow and still in his briefs, his bulge protruding obscenely– Tanner protested,

"It's hot man, don't put your shirt on cause of me."

With it still halfway on, over my head and one arm, I looked questioningly at Michael, who scoffed,

"He can do what he wants."

"Whatever."

Tanner said, leaning back and using his hands to support him. He was shirtless as well, and also in boxers. I noticed that although he probably didn't work out and had a thin, tall frame, he still had some muscle, which was accentuated by the lamplight in the tent. The guy was actually incredibly handsome, his blonde hair poking out in a shock of fuzz from the hole in his backwards cap. He was not incredibly masculine, but rather was boyish and goofy, but I found his unnaturally large adam's apple to be very manly. He grinned at me, and I looked away.

"Too bad there's no pussy here, huh?"

Our new friend asked.

"Yep."

Replied Michael. He seemed annoyed, which I chalked up to his plans for the night having been ruined. I couldn't say I wasn't also disappointed.

"Man, I'm addicted to fucking pussy. I can't go a week without fucking at least twice."

Michael rolled his eyes and asked me,

"You gonna leave your shirt like that?"

I apologized and pulled it all the way on. He just snorted and shook his head.

"The girls can't get enough of it! Every single girl I've ever fucked has told me I'm the biggest they've been with. I'm the king!"

Tanner continued, and gave a cocky laugh. I could feel my dick straining against my shorts, and a sticky wetness on my lower stomach. I pulled my shirt down even further. Michael rolled his eyes again.

"What, you don't believe me? I'm this big, bro!"

And he showed a size that I doubted very much, especially considering it was even bigger than Michael's. In fact, without meaning to do so, I actually scoffed. Tanner looked at me with surprise.

"Oh man, you don't even know! I'm so serious, bro. This is soft!"

And with that, the guy jumped up his knees and grabbed his dick through the bathing suit he was still wearing. The shape of his bulge was immense, a thick, long snake, probably at least 9 inches. My jaw fell to the floor.

"Man, shut the fuck up!"

Michael said, and pushed Tanner onto the ground. I'd actually never seen him so mad, not in years at any rate.

"I'm big too, but you don't see me showing off to other guys, you fucking faggot!"

I winced inside. Tanner just laughed, putting his hand down his pants and pulling his monstrous dick out. It was even thicker than Michael's, and longer too; when Michael was soft, at any rate. His blonde pubes were sparse. He wagged his fat tool at me and slapped it against his hand, producing a deep, thick smack. I just stared.

"Oh, damn..."

Tanner almost whispered, and I saw that he was staring at my crotch. I realized that my dick had failed to cooperate, and made a tent in my pants, so that it was obvious I'd gotten an erection from Tanner's unhumanly colossal soft cock. I froze, unsure of what I could even do.

Michael was furious. He jumped up and pushed Tanner out of the tent, calling him a homo. I was scared, terrified. Both because of the fear I felt at Michael's outburst of anger and the anxiety surrounding my possible exposure as a gay idiot, which could effect my friend. As Michael zipped the tent closed, I apologized profusely, insisting that I couldn't help it, couldn't control my dick, and that I was incredibly sorry and hoped he wasn't mad at me. He just shook his head.

"It's not your fault, it's that dumbass Tanner. I can't stand that guy. It's not like you can control your boner, fuck, no guy can do that."

"Do you think he'll tell the other guys I'm gay?"

"Eh... I don't know. He'd have to admit he showed you his dick, but he loves showing off. The man thinks he's god's gift to earth just because he's hung. Who gives a fuck? I think *he's* the gay one. And I'm pretty sure more guys have seen his dick than ladies. Anyway, if he does, I'll just say you were so big soft it looked like you were hard to him and your dick is bigger than his."

"I mean, yours might be," I said, "fully hard."

Michael just frowned and got onto his sleeping bag, telling me he was going to bed. I turned off the lamp and lay awake, thinking. I wondered if the real reason Michael didn't like Tanner was because his dick was bigger than his, soft anyway. I couldn't imagine an erection bigger than Michael's twelve inches, it simply seemed impossible.

___

The next morning, we decided to go hiking. Everything seemed back to normal, with Michael joking with Tanner and Billy up at the front, and Mitch and I hanging back a bit. Billy kept burping loudly on command, causing the other guys to push him jovially.

"I am the burping king! Nobody is better than me!"

He yelled, and shoved Tanner's face into his sweaty, hairy armpit, which made Michael laugh hysterically.

"Those two are so dumb, I swear."

Mitch said, continuing,

"They act like they're still in high school. I guess Bill kind of has an excuse, he's 20, but my god, Tanner is in his mid-20's now and he's the most immature of them all."

I laughed. I fact, I found Bill's deep, guttural burps to be incredibly manly and erotic, but obviously I wasn't going to tell Mitch that.

"I can burp on command too," he said,  "and I can probably out-burp him. I just don't feel like it."

"Oh. I don't know how to do that."

"I can teach you."

The brown-haired stud grinned at me. I kind of laughed nervously, not really sure what to say.

"You have a brother?"

He asked. I replied that I didn't.

"I figured. That's the kind of thing an older brother would teach you. I'll teach you, bro."

I felt my dick twitch in my shorts. I wasn't sure why, but this sort of masculine, boyish behavior really turned me on, and the implication that Mitch sort of, kind of cared about me. Brothers cared about each other, right? Mitch was 23, so he was a year older than me, depending on when his birthday was. Winking at me, he began to suck in air as we walked. Then, he let out a massive belch that sounded like an explosion, shattering the relative quiet. My dick twitched in my shorts, and Bill cheered Mitch on from up ahead on the path. He did it again, this time stopping to stand still, one hand on his stomach while he sucked in air and then unleashed a long, low burp that sounded like a motor trying to start. I could only watch in awe. It made me feel two feet tall, like he was standing on top of me. It was so damn masculine.

He adjusted his crotch as he hurried to catch up with me. I wanted to know how he was so macho and cool with a small dick like mine, how he came across so confident and powerful, while I felt like an insignificant bug.

"You want to try? I'll teach you, bro."

I shook my head. I knew I'd never be top dog like Mitch or everyone else there, it just wasn't in the cards for me.

"Man, you really are shy. You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm just not a real manly man, you know?"

Mitch smiled at me, very kindly, and slapped me on the shoulder.

"You're alright in my book. You remind me a bit of myself when I was younger. I used to be a lot less confident. You should work out, man! Come to the gym with me sometime. I know it's hard going by yourself, come with me. I'll show you how to do everything."

I blushed. He was so nice to me, and it felt like having an older brother must feel. It was like how Michael treated me in high school; not that Michael didn't still always defend and help me, but it was less necessary now, and he was less the 'teaching' kind and moreso the 'I'll do it for you cause I know you can't and I want to help'.

"Gotta piss!"

Tanner yelled from the front of the group, and ran back toward me and Mitch before veering off into the woods ahead of us. I tried to walk as slow as possible so that I could catch a glimpse of his monster– and it worked. I watched as Tanner hauled his heavy slab of meat out of his pants and let loose a torrent of piss that sprayed off of the tree before him. I was, quite frankly, in awe. It was like seeing a master athlete perform their craft to absolute perfection. He was like a god.

"Lance! Come on!"

I turned to see Mitch; he grabbed me and pulled me forward and, holding me close to him by the shoulder, he continued to whisper in my ear,

"You were fucking staring, man! I know it's big, but damn."

I felt my heart begin to beat rapidly. I didn't want to say anything. Unfortunately, my body spoke for me.

"Oh, shit!"

Mitch stopped me and stood close, right in front of me. I froze.

"Look down!"

I did. I had a boner sticking straight out in my shorts. My world began to feel hazy and unreal.

"Dude, you got to hide that thing. Jesus!"

I continued to stare at his face, unable to think logically. My mind was spinning, my thoughts spiraling. I simply could not move. Mitch looked hastily over at Tanner, still pissing a violent stream of urine from his 9 inch cock, and then over at the other guys, who were still walking and somewhat far away now. Hesitantly, and with a little sigh, he reached his big, masculine hand into my pants, slipped his fingers inside my boxers, and pulled my erect dick up so that it was hidden in my waistband. He grabbed my shoulders and looked into my eyes with his beautiful, honey-brown ones.

"Dude, snap out of it. It's cool. Just don't let it slip out. Come on."

He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me forward. After a couple minutes I managed to break out of my anxiety spiral. I stopped to check that my boner was still kept in place by my waistband– it was. I looked over at Mitch, who was looking at me like I was a pathetic homeless dog that he wished he could help.

"It's cool. I don't judge."

I stuttered some excuse, trying to convince Mitch that I was just surprised that anyone's dick could be as big as Tanner's and that my boner was random, totally unrelated. He didn't buy it.

"Is okay dude, it's okay. You don't have to lie. I think you're alright, man. It doesn't matter to me if you like guys or not. Long as you don't try to fuck me."

I was breathing heavily. I was unsure how to feel. Was this bad?

"I guess Tanner is more your type though, huh? I've got a sedan, he's got an entire fucking train."

Mitch shook his head in mock sadness.

"I think you're my type."

I blurted out. Mitch paused.

"I'm not gay..."

He said, slowly. I put my face in my hands, panicking.

"You're just trying to be nice though, huh?"

"No... I mean, I didn't mean... I just meant you shouldn't feel bad cause of his size and yours. And I meant..."

I trailed off, deciding what I had wanted to say next was a bad idea, but Mitch finished my thought for me.

"You meant you still think I'm hot."

"Yes. But I wasn't trying to hit on you. I would never, ever do that."

I added hastily. Mitch grabbed my ear and pulled on it.

"I know. I was just kidding about the size anyway. Like I said, it's not about size. Plenty of girls would rather have me than him. You think he's hot?"

I stumbled. Mitch reached out like he was gonna catch me, but realized it was unnecessary, since I didn't fall. The other guys were so far ahead of us now that we couldn't even see them.

"I mean, yeah. I guess."

I felt extremely nervous. I'd never talked about this stuff with *anyone,* much less a straight dude I'd just recently met.

"Cause of how big his dick is? Or you like his face? Geez, that thing is a fucking monster. Insane."

"Yeah... it's big alright. But I wonder if he's a shower."

Mitch laughed.

"You're probably right. He's probably not that much bigger when he's hard. But you think he's cute?"

I nodded.

"Yeah. I like his sideburns and hair. He is really attractive."

"He's got a big nose though."

"Yeah, but it fits his face. And I like his adam's apple. It's so manly..."

Mitch laughed in surprise. I felt incredibly embarrassed by everything I'd revealed, but Mitch was so easy to talk to and he made me feel at home.

"You like manly guys then? Big, macho guys? Like Bill?"

I nodded and gulped.

"Well, am I manly? Or not manly enough? I'm not as big or crass as Bill, that's for sure."

"You're masculine as fuck dude."

I replied, surprised he didn't see himself that way. He was very muscular, had a deep, gravely voice, and his entire attitude was one of confidence and strength.

"I guess. Not like Bill, though. More manly than Tanner's goofy ass, that's for sure. You think I'm hot?"

He asked. I was shocked with the nonchalance with which he was addressing this whole thing.

"I do. You're so... so hot."

"Even though you saw my dick?"

He almost sounded a bit unsure when he asked that last question, which surprised me. He didn't really seem ashamed of his size, at least not from some of the things he'd said to me.

"But... I like it."

I responded.

"Really? You saw it when I was soft. It's fucking tiny when I'm soft. At least it's bigger when I'm hard."

"How big?"

I really surprised myself by asking him.

"Well, not that much bigger..." Mitch replied, sounding a little nervous, "but it's definitely thicker."

"Yeah, me too. Mine is so small when I'm soft, I'm 5 hard."

"That's how big I am, bro."

Mitch said, grinning. We stopped walking. Absolutely no one was around. We'd lost our friends, and it was totally silent. Mitch reached out and put his hand on my chest, pushing me softly. I wavered.

"You want to compare?"

He asked, softly. I nodded quickly, up and down. Mitch reached into his pants and started to fondle himself. I watched how his lips parted and his breaths began to get shallow and quick. He looked up at me, quizzically. I realized I was staring, and put my hand in my own pants and started to pull on my dick to get him hard. It wasn't difficult by any means. Standing before me was an incredibly handsome, built, attractive guy. I was hard almost immediately, but waited for his cue to take off my pants. I watched his eyebrows knit together in a little frown as he looked down at his bulge and then over at mine. His mouth kept opening a little wider, exposing his tongue, as his breath kept getting faster. He looked at me and moaned slightly.

"You're so skinny."

My face turned red.

"No, not trying to be mean. Can you take off your shirt?"

I was confused, but I did what he said. He began to masturbate more vigorously, and let his shorts fall to his ankles, but left his underwear on (a pair of red boxers). I followed suit.

"Take off your boxers."

Mitch ordered. I obeyed, allowing my fully erect cock to jump out and greet him.

"Can you turn around?"

I did.

"Man, I like your ass. You know your body kind of looks like a girl's?"

I turned back around, quick, and I was sure he could see the embarrassment in my face.

"No, I'm not being mean. I'm saying you're hot. You like masculine guys, right? So why would you want to be more masculine? Guys like me are attracted to women. I'm saying you're hot. I like your body."

I didn't know what to say. I'd never really thought about things from that perspective before. I felt humiliated, being compared to a girl, but I also felt good to be called hot by Mitch, and for him to like my body. Anyway, it felt right to be the more feminine one of the two. He was definitely the alpha male between us.

Mitch pulled his dick out, grunting softly as he did so. His dick was around the same size as mine, maybe a little shorter, but thicker. His balls, however, were even smaller than mine. His cock head was slippery with precum and he wiped his thumb across it several times, moaning.

"Do you like it? You like my dick?"

He asked.

"Yeah. I like it a lot."

Mitch smiled.

"Do you like mine too?"

I asked.

"Man, I do. But to be honest, I'm not really into dicks. I'm not gay. But I really like your ass. That makes me really horny."

I was quiet. These guys were all so confusing. What was even going on?

"Can you suck me? I really want it."

Mitch sounded so excited that it was turning me on. Even if I didn't like thinking about my body as girlish, I liked that he liked me. And I was glad he hadn't asked to fuck my ass.

"Please. Get down and suck it. I need it bad."

Mitch urged. He let a big wad of spit drool from his mouth and down onto his cock, where he wiped the saliva all over his rigid member. I didn't know what to do or say, but I felt compelled to listen to his commands. I got down on my knees, and looked up at his fat head, looming above me as he continued to stroke. Suddenly, he thumped his dick on my forehead.

"Oh man. You look cute down there."

He said. Then he pushed his fingers into my mouth and pried it open, before sliding his warm, thick boner into my mouth. I could feel a trail of salty precum as it made its way down my tongue and tickled my uvula. I gagged a little, and Mitch looked down at me with what I realized was a grin of pride. My choking had made him feel like 'the man'. I pushed my head forward, and let his dick shove itself into my uvula again and gagged. I felt an overwhelming desire to make Mitch feel good. I wanted to make him happy.

Mitch pushed his hand through my brown hair so that it was all off of my forehead. Then he grabbed the sides of my head and slowly pulled my head backwards, until only his head was inside my mouth, before pushing my head forward once again, until my nose was smashed into his crotch, prickly with growing pubic hair, and his dick was perched at the entrance to my throat again. He did this repeatedly, locking into a rhythm that began to get faster and faster. I was a little scared, feeling like I was gonna throw up, and worried about my teeth accidentally hurting his dick, but Mitch kept going. He began to grunt in a deep, guttural way, saying things like,

"Awww... oh man, yeah, fuck that's good."

I felt a sense of pride in being able to make Mitch feel so good. I wanted him to feel better than he'd ever felt his life, with any girl. Suddenly, he smashed my face into his crotch and held me there for what seemed like an eternity. I began to realize I couldn't breathe, and started to try to talk, to tell him to let me up, but was unable because my mouth was filled with his thick boner. I pushed against his broad, hairy thighs, struggling to get up. I felt a slap on the back of my head and finally I was set free, falling into my ass in the pine needles and gasping for air. Mitch looked pleased with himself.

"Sorry man, that feels so good. I love it when it's deep like that. I like it when you're struggling."

I felt precum leak from my dick when he said that last sentence.

"I like that I'm more masculine that you. That's actually pretty hot. I'm more dominant too. You're so submissive. You do what I say. You're a good boy. You're a good cocksleeve."

I moaned slightly, unable to hide how turned on I was, and Mitch grinned, wide.

"Get back up here and suck my cock you little... little good guy who does what I want. Fuck, I like you. Get my cock in your throat now. I'm gonna cum down your throat and you're gonna swallow everything."

I was starting to second guess things, wondering if it was a good idea. I hadn't seen such a commanding side of Mitch before, and it scared me. He made my decision for me, pulling me up by my arms and placing me on my knees right in front of his hard cock once again. My spit and his precum were mixed together, dripping off of the sides and the head of his excited boner.

"You're good."

Mitch said in his deep voice, husky and hoarse with desire. I wasn't quite sure what he even meant by that. He grabbed my ears and gently guided my mouth to his dick head. It slipped through my lips and invaded my mouth once more.

Mitch proceeded to face fuck me again, speeding up like a jackhammer. Occasionally he would slow down and, pressing my face deep into his crotch and stomach, reach over and touch my ass. This made me feel nervous, but I was quite literally pinned against his huge body, dick sheathed in my mouth, and his arms shoving me closer into him from the back side. I could do nothing. I could tell he wanted to fuck my ass, or at least was curious about it. He tried to get his fingers to my butthole, but with the position we were in, it was impossible, so he'd just rub his finger right on the edge of my crack, squirming and reaching it forward.

Finally, he focused on my mouth. He got into a good, steady rhythm, one hand on the back of my head to guide me, and with the other one he held the back of his own head. I liked watching his expressions as he face fucked me, liked seeing how they would flit quickly between one another. He would let out a deep groan one moment, eyes closed, and the next he would snap his eyes open, drop his mouth, and moan in a higher pitch (well, as high as his vocal chords were capable of anyway). He began to frown, and let out a long 'huhnnngggg', like he had just gotten a sharp blow and exhaled in shock and, and then a drawn out whimper of pleading.

Finally, he began to destroy my throat with abandon, and I could tell something was coming. His jaw dropped and he looked up towards the sky like he was seeing the second coming of Jesus or something, while letting out a deep, primal grunt, and slamming my face into his body so that his dick was as far into my throat as it would go. He held me, locked into position, with both hands, gripping so tightly I was scared he'd crush my skull.

A massive ejaculation of thick, sweet cum was shot into my throat with high speed; I choked, but couldn't budge my head an inch. Another fat wad of semen was thrown into my throat, and then another, and another. The voluminous puddles of ejaculate just kept coming, and I didn't understand how a man could cum so much. I typically shot maybe 3 loads, and they mostly dribbled out. Mitch's cum was a very thick, liquid texture, like yogurt, and it came out in massive shots that spurted far and fast. After 12 shots, he let go, and gently pulled his dick back into my mouth so that the last two shots would be on my tongue. I swallowed the salty-sweet gift immediately, and licked all around his cock, slithering my tongue all around it like a serpent, which made Mitch shudder and his eyes roll back into his head. He pushed me away, whining in what seemed to be a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"Aw, man. I can't, that's so intense, boy."

He shivered and laughed, looking down at me.

"Lance, holy fuck. That was so good. Wow, thanks. That was incredible!"

He reached down and helped me to stand up and brush the pine needles off of my legs. I pulled my pants back up, and he even brushed those off for me as well.

"Thanks," I said, feeling incredibly proud of myself, "I really, really like your dick. I want to do that again."

Mitch grinned and pulled his pants back on. Just then, I saw Michael saunter over from a wooded area to our right. I swallowed, nervously.

"You lost us, huh?"

He asked.

Mitch whirled around.

"Oh, yeah... we sure did. We've been trying to find you."

He tried to play it off.

"Did you?"

Asked Michael in mock surprise, pretending to brush something off his shirt.

"Probably not gonna find us at the back of Mitch's throat, Lance."

Both of us froze. I felt like I was about to check out, mentally. Mitch looked like he was about to cry. I could see his throat bob as he swallowed nervously.

"Michael," he said softly, almost begging, "where are Bill and Tanner?"

Michael gave a little snicker.

"They're not anywhere near us. Don't worry. I'm the only one who saw your little escapade."

I had never seen Mitch, or any man, really, look so humiliated and subdued. His eyes were glassy, but he wasn't crying, and his shoulders were hunched over. He looked defeated.

"Please," he whispered, "please don't tell them, Michael. Please. You don't know how important this is to me. Please don't tell anyone at all."

I wanted to run over and hug him. He was probably just a second away from bursting into tears.

"Honestly Mitch, I'm just surprised you're a fag."

That's what did it. A single tear finally broke through the surface, and streamed down Mitch's red cheeks. Michael's entire demeanor changed at that moment. He was no longer cocky and callous, but looked dead serious.

"Well damn, Mitch. I didn't mean it like that. You're gonna upset me."

"What?"

Mitch queried as he wiped his face off with his palm; but a he did so, other lone tears escaped his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Michael looked hurt, as though he wasn't the one who had created the situation.

"I'm not gonna tell anyone, fuck. I never would. Don't cry, I really don't like that. Not because of me... I don't want you to cry cause of me. Or you."

He pointed at me. Mitch looked like he just remembered he existed. He said sorry to me, which made me realize that Mitch had no idea that Michael knew I was gay, and Michael hadn't said a word or implied a thing.

"Look, guys. It's not my business. Just forget I was here. But if you want to find the rest of the guys, follow me."

He put his arm around me and dragged me forward. Mitch followed. After a bit, when Mitch was out of ear shot, walking ahead of us, he grabbed my ass and whispered in my ear,

"You're gonna pay for that. Virgin? More like a little slut."

He shoved his finger up my ass crack, making me jump.

"Tonight you're gonna get so totally fucked you're not gonna even know what happened. And you'll see what a real man's cock is like."

I turned and shoved my face into his chest. Not hugging him exactly, but just burying my face in his chest. It was so warm through his shirt. After a moment he hugged me slightly, and placed his face onto my head. I wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but it seemed like he was smelling my hair. I wished he would kiss me. Even my head or my forehead. I loved him.

After a few seconds, he took his arms away and pulled my face from his chest using my ears.

"Can't let Mitch see. Come on, little guy."

We kept walking, deeper into the forest.