u/throat_goat_617

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The supply storeroom door clicked shut behind us. The small space was pitch black at first, then our eyes slowly adjusted to the faint light leaking in from under the door. Shelves packed with extra boots, vests, ropes, and training gear pressed in from all sides. There was barely enough room for both of us to stand. Our bare chests were already brushing together. The air felt thick and warm, smelling of rubber and canvas.

Ryder let out a shaky laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight in here.”

“Yeah,” I breathed. My cock was still rock hard, straining painfully against my underwear. So was his. We stood there for a second, breathing each other in, neither of us sure what to do next.

Ryder reached down first. He pushed his boxers down just enough to free his thick cock. It sprang up heavy and flushed, the head already wet. He wrapped his hand around it and gave one slow stroke, eyes locked on me.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” he said with that cocky grin. “Show me that pretty dick again.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Dicks are not meant to be pretty, Callahan.”

“But yours is,” he replied, voice low and teasing. “All flushed and leaking. Come on. Take it out.”

My hands were shaking as I hooked my fingers into my waistband and pushed my boxers down. My cock bounced free, six inches of hard, throbbing length pointing straight at him. The head was shiny with pre-cum. Ryder’s eyes dropped to it immediately and his grin widened.

“Fuck yeah,” he muttered. “That’s a nice cock.”

We stood there face to face in the cramped space, both of us slowly stroking ourselves. Our fists moved in the same rhythm. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the tiny room. Every time our arms brushed it sent a spark through me. Ryder kept looking down at my cock, then back up at my face, his breathing getting heavier.

After a minute he shifted closer. His free hand reached out and wrapped around my cock, pushing my own hand away. His grip was warm and firm.

“I can help my camp wife out,” he said with a smirk, voice thick with lust. “No big deal, right?”

“Fuck off, Callahan,” I muttered, but there was no heat in it. My hips jerked forward into his fist on their own. It felt too good. His thumb swiped over the head, spreading my pre-cum down the shaft as he stroked me with slow, confident pulls.

Ryder chuckled softly. “See? You like it when I touch you.”

I could not deny it. My cock throbbed in his hand. I stared at his own cock, thick and hard, bouncing slightly with every movement of his arm. I had been wanting to touch it since the night in the showers. My hand moved before my brain could catch up. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around him. He was hot and heavy in my palm. Ryder let out a low groan the moment I touched him.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Your hands feel good.”

We stood there stroking each other in the dark, tight room. Our foreheads almost touched. Our breathing mixed together. Ryder’s hand felt perfect on me, steady and sure. I tried to match his rhythm on him, squeezing a little tighter when I reached the head. Every time I did he let out a quiet grunt that made my own cock jump in his fist.

“You are leaking so much,” I whispered, thumb gliding over his slick tip.

“Yeah? So are you, baby,” he shot back, voice rough. “My camp wife is making a mess all over my hand.”

The banter kept coming but it was getting breathier. More desperate. We kept stroking each other, bodies pressed close in the cramped space. Our free hands rested on each other’s hips for balance. The heat between us was building fast.

Ryder’s eyes were dark when he looked at me. “You keep staring at my cock,” he said quietly. “You wanna help me out more than this?”

I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding. I had never done anything like this before. Never even thought about it until recently. But right now, in this tiny dark room with Ryder’s thick cock in my hand, I wanted it. Badly.

Ryder noticed my hesitation. He gave my cock one more slow stroke then pulled his hand away. He also gently moved my hand off him. His eyes locked on mine in the darkness.

“Not like that,” he said, voice low and commanding but still playful. “I mean really help me out.”

He took half a step back, just enough space in the tight room. His hand came up and rested lightly on my shoulder, guiding me down.

“Come on,” he murmured, that cocky grin still on his face even though his voice was thick with need. “On your knees, camp wife. Let me see how you please your best friend.”

The words hit me hard. Camp wife. Best friend. The two things twisted together in a way that made my stomach flip. Ryder had been calling me his camp wife as a joke for days but right now it did not feel like a joke. It felt real. And the fact that he called me his best friend at the same time made something warm and terrifying bloom in my chest.

I hesitated. “Am I your camp wife or your best friend?”

Ryder let out a low chuckle. “Whatever you want to be, baby.” He gave his thick cock one slow stroke right in front of my face. “C’mon now, don’t keep me waiting.”

I still hesitated. “Callahan… no, man…”

Ryder wrapped his hand under his cock and lifted it slightly, then slapped the heavy length against his open palm. The thick sound echoed in the tiny room. It looked so heavy. So hard.

“I promise no one will know,” he said, voice dropping softer but still rough with want. “Just this once. Help me out, Callum. I’m so fucking hard,”

I swallowed hard. “But… I have never…”

“I have never had my dick sucked by a guy either,” Ryder replied, eyes locked on mine. “But it’s you. It is different.”

My legs felt weak as I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him. The concrete floor was cold and hard under me. Ryder’s cock stood right in front of my face, thick and hard, the head glistening with pre-cum. I had never sucked a dick before. I had never even come close to wanting to until now. But looking up at Ryder in the dark, seeing the way he was breathing hard and watching me with hungry eyes, something inside me gave in.

“I don’t know what the fuck I am doing,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Ryder said gently, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head. “You won’t know until you try it.”

I leaned forward slowly, heart hammering in my chest. My lips brushed the head of his cock first. It was hot. Velvety soft but rock hard underneath. I kissed it once, then opened my mouth and took the head inside. The taste was salty and musky. I sucked lightly, swirling my tongue around the tip the way I had vaguely imagined girls doing it.

“Fuck… yeah, Rhodes,” Ryder groaned softly. “Just like that. Shit, your lips feels good.”

I took a little more, maybe three inches, and bobbed my head slowly. I was clumsy. My teeth grazed him once and I pulled back quickly, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Ryder just chuckled breathlessly. “It’s okay. Keep going. Use your tongue more on the head.”

I tried again. This time I focused mostly on the tip, sucking on it gently while my hand stroked the thick shaft that would not fit in my mouth. I worked him with slow, messy movements. Spit started to drip down his cock as I got more into it. Ryder’s hand stayed gentle on the back of my head, not pushing, just guiding.

“God damn,” he breathed. “Look at you. My camp wife on his knees for me. You look so fucking good like this.”

The words made my own cock throb hard. I reached down with my free hand and started stroking myself while I sucked him. The dual sensation made me moan around his cock. Ryder’s hips twitched forward slightly.

“Yeah… just like that,” he encouraged. “Suck the head harder. Fuck, you are doing so good.”

I kept going. Messy. Wet. Inexperienced. I could only take three or four inches before I gagged a little, but Ryder did not seem to mind. He kept whispering praises mixed with his usual teasing.

“Never thought I would see you sucking my dick… but damn, baby, don’t stop.”

My jaw started to ache but I did not want to stop. The taste of him, the weight on my tongue, the way he groaned every time I swirled my tongue around the head — it was turning me on more than I ever expected. I stroked myself faster, kneeling there on the cold floor with Ryder’s cock in my mouth.

Ryder’s breathing grew ragged. His thighs started to tense under my hands.

“I am close,” he warned, voice strained. “You want it?”

I nodded, not taking him out of my mouth. I sucked harder on the head, stroking the rest of his shaft with my hand while I jerked myself furiously.

“Fuck… Callum…”

Ryder groaned deep and his cock pulsed. The first thick rope of cum hit my tongue. Then another. And another. I kept sucking as he came, swallowing what I could while the rest spilled over my lips and dripped down my chin. The taste was strong and salty. I moaned around him as my own orgasm hit hard. I came all over the floor, thick spurts landing near my discarded boxers, some of it splashing onto the pouch.

We stayed like that for a long moment. My mouth still gently nursing the head of his cock as the last drops leaked out. Ryder’s hand stroked through my hair almost tenderly.

“Shit,” he whispered finally. “That was… intense.”

I pulled off slowly, breathing hard, cum still on my lips and chin. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, heart still racing.

Ryder helped me stand up. The small room felt even tighter now. He looked at me in the dark, his expression soft but still carrying that cocky edge.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, not trusting my voice yet. My lips felt swollen. I could still taste him on my tongue.

Ryder reached down and pulled his underwear back up. I did the same, wincing as the fabric dragged over my sensitive cock and the cum that had dripped down my thighs and stuck to my legs. Ryder’s hand settled on my shoulder, warm and steady, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“By the way,” he said with a lazy grin, “you used your teeth a lot.”

I let out a breathless laugh, still trying to recover. “I don’t suck dick for a living, Callahan. What do you expect?”

Ryder chuckled softly, his thumb brushing my shoulder. “That’s fine. You should practice more with me. You’ll get better.”

I looked up at him, eyes wide. He grinned wider.

“Okay, I am kidding,” he added quickly. “This was just a one-time thing.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Don’t think that it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

Ryder tilted his head, still smiling. “But how are you going to improve if you don’t practice?”

“I don’t have to improve,” I shot back.

He opened his mouth to reply when we both froze. A faint sound came from outside the storeroom — footsteps in the corridor. We held our breath, staring at each other in the dark. The footsteps passed without stopping. We stayed completely still until they faded away.

“We should probably get back before someone notices we are gone,” Ryder whispered.

We slipped out of the supply storeroom carefully, looking left and right down the dark corridor. The coast was clear. We moved quickly and quietly back toward the common room, shoulders brushing every few steps. The walk felt endless even though it was short. The air between us had completely changed. It was heavier now. Charged with something we both knew we could not take back.

When we reached the bunks Ryder climbed up to the top one without a word. I lay down on the bottom bunk, heart still racing. My legs felt sticky with drying cum. My lips still tingled. I could still taste the salt of him on my tongue.

I stared up at the metal frame above me, mind spinning. I had just sucked my straight bunkmate’s cock in a supply storeroom. And the craziest part was how much I had liked it. How eagerly I had dropped to my knees. How much I wanted to do it again even while I kept telling myself it was a one-time thing.

As much as I kept denying that I had only done it as a one-time thing, deep down I knew the truth. I wanted to do it again. I wanted more of him. And that scared the hell out of me.

Because Sergeant Ashford was still out there waiting for his next private session. And I had no idea how I was supposed to want both of them at the same time without everything falling apart.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The supply storeroom door clicked shut behind us. The small space was pitch black at first, then our eyes slowly adjusted to the faint light leaking in from under the door. Shelves packed with extra boots, vests, ropes, and training gear pressed in from all sides. There was barely enough room for both of us to stand. Our bare chests were already brushing together. The air felt thick and warm, smelling of rubber and canvas.

Ryder let out a shaky laugh. “Fuck, it’s tight in here.”

“Yeah,” I breathed. My cock was still rock hard, straining painfully against my underwear. So was his. We stood there for a second, breathing each other in, neither of us sure what to do next.

Ryder reached down first. He pushed his boxers down just enough to free his thick cock. It sprang up heavy and flushed, the head already wet. He wrapped his hand around it and gave one slow stroke, eyes locked on me.

“Your turn, pretty boy,” he said with that cocky grin. “Show me that pretty dick again.”

I let out a nervous laugh. “Dicks are not meant to be pretty, Callahan.”

“But yours is,” he replied, voice low and teasing. “All flushed and leaking. Come on. Take it out.”

My hands were shaking as I hooked my fingers into my waistband and pushed my boxers down. My cock bounced free, six inches of hard, throbbing length pointing straight at him. The head was shiny with pre-cum. Ryder’s eyes dropped to it immediately and his grin widened.

“Fuck yeah,” he muttered. “That’s a nice cock.”

We stood there face to face in the cramped space, both of us slowly stroking ourselves. Our fists moved in the same rhythm. The wet sounds of skin on skin filled the tiny room. Every time our arms brushed it sent a spark through me. Ryder kept looking down at my cock, then back up at my face, his breathing getting heavier.

After a minute he shifted closer. His free hand reached out and wrapped around my cock, pushing my own hand away. His grip was warm and firm.

“I can help my camp wife out,” he said with a smirk, voice thick with lust. “No big deal, right?”

“Fuck off, Callahan,” I muttered, but there was no heat in it. My hips jerked forward into his fist on their own. It felt too good. His thumb swiped over the head, spreading my pre-cum down the shaft as he stroked me with slow, confident pulls.

Ryder chuckled softly. “See? You like it when I touch you.”

I could not deny it. My cock throbbed in his hand. I stared at his own cock, thick and hard, bouncing slightly with every movement of his arm. I had been wanting to touch it since the night in the showers. My hand moved before my brain could catch up. I reached out and wrapped my fingers around him. He was hot and heavy in my palm. Ryder let out a low groan the moment I touched him.

“Shit,” he breathed. “Your hands feel good.”

We stood there stroking each other in the dark, tight room. Our foreheads almost touched. Our breathing mixed together. Ryder’s hand felt perfect on me, steady and sure. I tried to match his rhythm on him, squeezing a little tighter when I reached the head. Every time I did he let out a quiet grunt that made my own cock jump in his fist.

“You are leaking so much,” I whispered, thumb gliding over his slick tip.

“Yeah? So are you, baby,” he shot back, voice rough. “My camp wife is making a mess all over my hand.”

The banter kept coming but it was getting breathier. More desperate. We kept stroking each other, bodies pressed close in the cramped space. Our free hands rested on each other’s hips for balance. The heat between us was building fast.

Ryder’s eyes were dark when he looked at me. “You keep staring at my cock,” he said quietly. “You wanna help me out more than this?”

I swallowed hard. My heart was pounding. I had never done anything like this before. Never even thought about it until recently. But right now, in this tiny dark room with Ryder’s thick cock in my hand, I wanted it. Badly.

Ryder noticed my hesitation. He gave my cock one more slow stroke then pulled his hand away. He also gently moved my hand off him. His eyes locked on mine in the darkness.

“Not like that,” he said, voice low and commanding but still playful. “I mean really help me out.”

He took half a step back, just enough space in the tight room. His hand came up and rested lightly on my shoulder, guiding me down.

“Come on,” he murmured, that cocky grin still on his face even though his voice was thick with need. “On your knees, camp wife. Let me see how you please your best friend.”

The words hit me hard. Camp wife. Best friend. The two things twisted together in a way that made my stomach flip. Ryder had been calling me his camp wife as a joke for days but right now it did not feel like a joke. It felt real. And the fact that he called me his best friend at the same time made something warm and terrifying bloom in my chest.

I hesitated. “Am I your camp wife or your best friend?”

Ryder let out a low chuckle. “Whatever you want to be, baby.” He gave his thick cock one slow stroke right in front of my face. “C’mon now, don’t keep me waiting.”

I still hesitated. “Callahan… no, man…”

Ryder wrapped his hand under his cock and lifted it slightly, then slapped the heavy length against his open palm. The thick sound echoed in the tiny room. It looked so heavy. So hard.

“I promise no one will know,” he said, voice dropping softer but still rough with want. “Just this once. Help me out, Callum. I’m so fucking hard,”

I swallowed hard. “But… I have never…”

“I have never had my dick sucked by a guy either,” Ryder replied, eyes locked on mine. “But it’s you. It is different.”

My legs felt weak as I slowly dropped to my knees in front of him. The concrete floor was cold and hard under me. Ryder’s cock stood right in front of my face, thick and hard, the head glistening with pre-cum. I had never sucked a dick before. I had never even come close to wanting to until now. But looking up at Ryder in the dark, seeing the way he was breathing hard and watching me with hungry eyes, something inside me gave in.

“I don’t know what the fuck I am doing,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry,” Ryder said gently, his hand resting lightly on the back of my head. “You won’t know until you try it.”

I leaned forward slowly, heart hammering in my chest. My lips brushed the head of his cock first. It was hot. Velvety soft but rock hard underneath. I kissed it once, then opened my mouth and took the head inside. The taste was salty and musky. I sucked lightly, swirling my tongue around the tip the way I had vaguely imagined girls doing it.

“Fuck… yeah, Rhodes,” Ryder groaned softly. “Just like that. Shit, your lips feels good.”

I took a little more, maybe three inches, and bobbed my head slowly. I was clumsy. My teeth grazed him once and I pulled back quickly, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

Ryder just chuckled breathlessly. “It’s okay. Keep going. Use your tongue more on the head.”

I tried again. This time I focused mostly on the tip, sucking on it gently while my hand stroked the thick shaft that would not fit in my mouth. I worked him with slow, messy movements. Spit started to drip down his cock as I got more into it. Ryder’s hand stayed gentle on the back of my head, not pushing, just guiding.

“God damn,” he breathed. “Look at you. My camp wife on his knees for me. You look so fucking good like this.”

The words made my own cock throb hard. I reached down with my free hand and started stroking myself while I sucked him. The dual sensation made me moan around his cock. Ryder’s hips twitched forward slightly.

“Yeah… just like that,” he encouraged. “Suck the head harder. Fuck, you are doing so good.”

I kept going. Messy. Wet. Inexperienced. I could only take three or four inches before I gagged a little, but Ryder did not seem to mind. He kept whispering praises mixed with his usual teasing.

“Never thought I would see you sucking my dick… but damn, baby, don’t stop.”

My jaw started to ache but I did not want to stop. The taste of him, the weight on my tongue, the way he groaned every time I swirled my tongue around the head — it was turning me on more than I ever expected. I stroked myself faster, kneeling there on the cold floor with Ryder’s cock in my mouth.

Ryder’s breathing grew ragged. His thighs started to tense under my hands.

“I am close,” he warned, voice strained. “You want it?”

I nodded, not taking him out of my mouth. I sucked harder on the head, stroking the rest of his shaft with my hand while I jerked myself furiously.

“Fuck… Callum…”

Ryder groaned deep and his cock pulsed. The first thick rope of cum hit my tongue. Then another. And another. I kept sucking as he came, swallowing what I could while the rest spilled over my lips and dripped down my chin. The taste was strong and salty. I moaned around him as my own orgasm hit hard. I came all over the floor, thick spurts landing near my discarded boxers, some of it splashing onto the pouch.

We stayed like that for a long moment. My mouth still gently nursing the head of his cock as the last drops leaked out. Ryder’s hand stroked through my hair almost tenderly.

“Shit,” he whispered finally. “That was… intense.”

I pulled off slowly, breathing hard, cum still on my lips and chin. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, heart still racing.

Ryder helped me stand up. The small room felt even tighter now. He looked at me in the dark, his expression soft but still carrying that cocky edge.

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

I nodded, not trusting my voice yet. My lips felt swollen. I could still taste him on my tongue.

Ryder reached down and pulled his underwear back up. I did the same, wincing as the fabric dragged over my sensitive cock and the cum that had dripped down my thighs and stuck to my legs. Ryder’s hand settled on my shoulder, warm and steady, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“By the way,” he said with a lazy grin, “you used your teeth a lot.”

I let out a breathless laugh, still trying to recover. “I don’t suck dick for a living, Callahan. What do you expect?”

Ryder chuckled softly, his thumb brushing my shoulder. “That’s fine. You should practice more with me. You’ll get better.”

I looked up at him, eyes wide. He grinned wider.

“Okay, I am kidding,” he added quickly. “This was just a one-time thing.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Don’t think that it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

Ryder tilted his head, still smiling. “But how are you going to improve if you don’t practice?”

“I don’t have to improve,” I shot back.

He opened his mouth to reply when we both froze. A faint sound came from outside the storeroom — footsteps in the corridor. We held our breath, staring at each other in the dark. The footsteps passed without stopping. We stayed completely still until they faded away.

“We should probably get back before someone notices we are gone,” Ryder whispered.

We slipped out of the supply storeroom carefully, looking left and right down the dark corridor. The coast was clear. We moved quickly and quietly back toward the common room, shoulders brushing every few steps. The walk felt endless even though it was short. The air between us had completely changed. It was heavier now. Charged with something we both knew we could not take back.

When we reached the bunks Ryder climbed up to the top one without a word. I lay down on the bottom bunk, heart still racing. My legs felt sticky with drying cum. My lips still tingled. I could still taste the salt of him on my tongue.

I stared up at the metal frame above me, mind spinning. I had just sucked my straight bunkmate’s cock in a supply storeroom. And the craziest part was how much I had liked it. How eagerly I had dropped to my knees. How much I wanted to do it again even while I kept telling myself it was a one-time thing.

As much as I kept denying that I had only done it as a one-time thing, deep down I knew the truth. I wanted to do it again. I wanted more of him. And that scared the hell out of me.

Because Sergeant Ashford was still out there waiting for his next private session. And I had no idea how I was supposed to want both of them at the same time without everything falling apart.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Matteo had asked me to be his fake boyfriend months ago after a bad breakup. He was done with relationships and tired of his friends constantly trying to set him up with girls. I said yes because he was my best friend and because even pretending felt better than watching him from the sidelines. That arrangement had brought us here, to this quiet apartment after a long night of guests and forced smiles, with his ex-girlfriend Jessica finally gone to her room and the last of the wine glasses left behind on the counter.

Matteo returned from the kitchen carrying two fresh glasses of water, the ice clinking softly against the sides. The apartment had gone quiet. The faint scent of pizza and spilled wine still hung in the air. He set the glasses on the coffee table and sat beside me on the couch, close enough that our thighs pressed together. His arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me gently into his side. His hand settled on my thigh, fingers warm through the fabric of my pants, thumb resting just above my knee.

For a long moment we didn't speak. The city lights flickered through the balcony doors, casting soft patterns across the floor. His breathing was steady, but I could feel the slight tension in his body, the way his fingers flexed once against my leg.

"About earlier," he said quietly, voice low in the stillness. "In the bathroom."

I nodded, throat tight. "Yeah."

He turned his head slightly, eyes finding mine. "I meant it, Cole. No more pretending."

My heart gave a hard thud. "What does that mean for us?"

His thumb moved in a slow circle on my thigh. "It means I want to explore what we have. For real."

The words settled over me like warm water. I swallowed. "Matteo, I thought you would never see me like that."

He smiled, small and soft. "I have been seeing you like that for a while. I just didn't know what to do with it."

I let out a shaky laugh. "I said yes to the fake thing because even pretending felt better than nothing."

His hand squeezed my thigh gently. "I know. And I am sorry it took me this long to say it out loud."

We sat like that for another minute, his arm around me, hand on my leg, the silence comfortable now instead of heavy. Then he shifted, turning toward me more fully.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked, voice quiet.

I nodded.

He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted. I didn't. His lips brushed mine, soft at first, then pressing deeper when I opened for him. The kiss was gentle and unhurried, his tongue sliding against mine with careful sweetness. His free hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb stroking along my cheekbone.

When we parted, his forehead rested against mine, breaths mingling. "I have been thinking about this all night," he murmured.

I smiled against his mouth. "Me too."

His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue exploring slowly, drawing a quiet sound from me. His other hand moved higher on my thigh, fingers brushing the inside seam of my pants. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my cock already half hard from the closeness.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips grazing mine. "Let’s go to my room. I don’t want Jessica accidentally walking in on us."

I nodded, heart racing. He stood and offered his hand. I took it. He led me down the short hallway, past the closed door of Jessica’s room, to his bedroom. The door closed behind us with a soft click, shutting out the rest of the world.

Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the bed in silver. Matteo turned to me, eyes dark and soft. "We can go slow," he said. "Whatever you want."

I stepped closer, hands finding his waist. "Okay."

He smiled, small and nervous, then kissed me again. His fingers worked the buttons of my white linen shirt open one by one, slow and careful. When the shirt fell open he pushed it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His palms slid up my bare chest, warm and reverent, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they hardened.

"You are beautiful," he whispered against my mouth.

He tugged his own t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Shirtless again, skin golden in the moonlight, abs flexing with every breath. I traced the lines of his body with my fingers, feeling the heat of him, the faint tremor running through his muscles.

We stripped down to underwear, the air cool against bare skin. Matteo in black boxers, the outline of his hardening cock clear against the fabric. Me in briefs, straining visibly. He looked at me, eyes wide, then smiled shyly.

"I am nervous," he admitted.

I stepped closer, hands on his hips. "Me too. But we don't have to rush."

He nodded, then gently pushed me back until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sank down onto the mattress, lying back against the pillows. Matteo followed immediately, climbing on top and straddling my thighs. His weight settled warm and solid over me, knees bracketing my hips, his bulge pressing firmly against my thick hard cock through my briefs. The contact made my dick twitch, throbbing harder against him, the ache sharpening with every slow shift of his hips.

He leaned down and kissed me again, slow and deep, hands roaming my chest and sides, learning the shape of me with careful reverent touches. His palms were warm, fingers tracing the lines of my ribs, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peaked under the attention. I arched into him, a quiet sound slipping from my throat as he rolled his hips once, deliberate, grinding our bulges together.

Then he moved lower. Lips on my neck, soft kisses turning to gentle sucks that left faint marks, his teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver. Down my chest, tongue circling one nipple, then the other, drawing a gasp from me as he lingered, sucking lightly until it hardened under his mouth. Lower still, kisses trailing over my abs, his tongue dipping into the shallow lines between them, tracing each ridge with slow deliberate strokes. His body hovered above mine, warm and solid, hips pressing down just enough to remind me of his own arousal grinding against my thigh.

His face moved lower, breath hot against my skin, until he hovered right above my bulge. He looked up at me, eyes dark and questioning, his mouth impossibly close, lips nearly brushing the straining fabric.

"Can I take these off?" he whispered.

I nodded, voice caught in my throat.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down slowly until my cock flopped out, thick and heavy, curving upward at a solid seven inches, the head flushed and glistening. A thin bead of precum stretched from the tip, sticking to the fabric in a glistening string that snapped as he tugged the briefs free.

Matteo leaned his face closer to my hard cock. "Let me take care of you."

"Matteo," I breathed, the word half plea, half whisper.

He wrapped his hand around me gently, fingers curling with care. Then he leaned in, tongue flicking out to lick the tip, lapping up the bead of precum that dangled there. The touch was electric, warm and wet, sending a jolt straight through me.

"Fuck," I groaned, hips twitching upward.

Matteo smiled up at me, cheeks flushed, then took the tip into his mouth, slow and careful, lips stretching around me. The feeling was overwhelming, the wet heat of his mouth enveloping me, tongue pressing flat against the underside as he sucked gently. Inexperienced, yes, but eager, his head bobbing in a tentative rhythm, hand holding the base steady while his lips worked the top.

I groaned louder, hand finding his curls, fingers threading through them without guiding yet. My cock twitched in his mouth, rock hard, the sensation of his saliva coating me making everything wetter and hotter.

"Jesus Christ, Romano," I breathed, eyes locked on the sight of him.

He took me deeper, halfway in, lips tight around me, then came back up with a soft wet slide. My hands instinctively went to his head, fingers tangling in his curls, trying to guide him through it with gentle pressure.

Matteo pulled off for a second, licking his lips, then took my balls into his mouth, sucking softly. My hips bucked up, cock resting heavy against his nose and eyes, the tip brushing his forehead. A string of precum stuck in his hair. His eyes looked directly at me from right behind my cock, dark and intense, holding my gaze as he sucked, the filthy intimacy of it making my whole body shudder.

"Shit," I breathed. "You aren't bad for a straight guy sucking dick."

He pulled off with a soft pop, smiling up at me, cheeks flushed. "So I have been watching some stuff online."

He started stroking me, hand slow and firm around my shaft. "Trying to figure out how to please you. Wanted to get it right."

"What stuff?" I asked, voice rough.

Matteo looked a little sheepish, hand still moving. "Gay porn. To see how it is done."

I laughed, the sound breathless and surprised. "For real? You are fucking serious?"

He grinned, thumb circling the head of my cock. "Yeah, come on. I have no clue what the fuck I am doing."

He leaned down again, licking a slow stripe up my abs, then took me back into his mouth, deeper this time. No more talking. The heat built fast, his mouth sliding wet and tight, tongue swirling around the head on every upstroke. Deeper now, humming around me so the vibrations shot straight through my core, making my toes curl. His free hand slid lower, cupping my balls gently, rolling them in his palm with careful squeezes that sent sparks up my spine.

I moaned, fingers tightening in his hair. The sight of him, curls messy between my thighs, lips stretched around me, was almost too much. My cock throbbed in his mouth, coated with saliva, every slide deeper pulling me closer to the edge.

Then slowly his hand moved below, fingers trailing between my ass cheeks, teasing the sensitive skin. I gasped, hips lifting, legs spreading wider to give him space.

"Matteo..."

He moaned around my cock, the vibration making me shudder. His finger reached my hole, pressing gently at first, then circling the rim with slow insistent pressure. A few seconds later it slipped inside, just the tip of his finger, then deeper, the intrusion burning sweet and full.

My cock throbbed harder in his mouth. "Ah fuck, Matteo..."

He started fingering me slowly, in and out, matching the rhythm of his mouth, the sensation building until everything blurred into heat and need. We were on the edge of something more, and I didn't want it to stop.

----------

Read the entire sex scene

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Matteo had asked me to be his fake boyfriend months ago after a bad breakup. He was done with relationships and tired of his friends constantly trying to set him up with girls. I said yes because he was my best friend and because even pretending felt better than watching him from the sidelines. That arrangement had brought us here, to this quiet apartment after a long night of guests and forced smiles, with his ex-girlfriend Jessica finally gone to her room and the last of the wine glasses left behind on the counter.

Matteo returned from the kitchen carrying two fresh glasses of water, the ice clinking softly against the sides. The apartment had gone quiet. The faint scent of pizza and spilled wine still hung in the air. He set the glasses on the coffee table and sat beside me on the couch, close enough that our thighs pressed together. His arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me gently into his side. His hand settled on my thigh, fingers warm through the fabric of my pants, thumb resting just above my knee.

For a long moment we didn't speak. The city lights flickered through the balcony doors, casting soft patterns across the floor. His breathing was steady, but I could feel the slight tension in his body, the way his fingers flexed once against my leg.

"About earlier," he said quietly, voice low in the stillness. "In the bathroom."

I nodded, throat tight. "Yeah."

He turned his head slightly, eyes finding mine. "I meant it, Cole. No more pretending."

My heart gave a hard thud. "What does that mean for us?"

His thumb moved in a slow circle on my thigh. "It means I want to explore what we have. For real."

The words settled over me like warm water. I swallowed. "Matteo, I thought you would never see me like that."

He smiled, small and soft. "I have been seeing you like that for a while. I just didn't know what to do with it."

I let out a shaky laugh. "I said yes to the fake thing because even pretending felt better than nothing."

His hand squeezed my thigh gently. "I know. And I am sorry it took me this long to say it out loud."

We sat like that for another minute, his arm around me, hand on my leg, the silence comfortable now instead of heavy. Then he shifted, turning toward me more fully.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked, voice quiet.

I nodded.

He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted. I didn't. His lips brushed mine, soft at first, then pressing deeper when I opened for him. The kiss was gentle and unhurried, his tongue sliding against mine with careful sweetness. His free hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb stroking along my cheekbone.

When we parted, his forehead rested against mine, breaths mingling. "I have been thinking about this all night," he murmured.

I smiled against his mouth. "Me too."

His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue exploring slowly, drawing a quiet sound from me. His other hand moved higher on my thigh, fingers brushing the inside seam of my pants. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my cock already half hard from the closeness.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips grazing mine. "Let’s go to my room. I don’t want Jessica accidentally walking in on us."

I nodded, heart racing. He stood and offered his hand. I took it. He led me down the short hallway, past the closed door of Jessica’s room, to his bedroom. The door closed behind us with a soft click, shutting out the rest of the world.

Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the bed in silver. Matteo turned to me, eyes dark and soft. "We can go slow," he said. "Whatever you want."

I stepped closer, hands finding his waist. "Okay."

He smiled, small and nervous, then kissed me again. His fingers worked the buttons of my white linen shirt open one by one, slow and careful. When the shirt fell open he pushed it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His palms slid up my bare chest, warm and reverent, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they hardened.

"You are beautiful," he whispered against my mouth.

He tugged his own t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Shirtless again, skin golden in the moonlight, abs flexing with every breath. I traced the lines of his body with my fingers, feeling the heat of him, the faint tremor running through his muscles.

We stripped down to underwear, the air cool against bare skin. Matteo in black boxers, the outline of his hardening cock clear against the fabric. Me in briefs, straining visibly. He looked at me, eyes wide, then smiled shyly.

"I am nervous," he admitted.

I stepped closer, hands on his hips. "Me too. But we don't have to rush."

He nodded, then gently pushed me back until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sank down onto the mattress, lying back against the pillows. Matteo followed immediately, climbing on top and straddling my thighs. His weight settled warm and solid over me, knees bracketing my hips, his bulge pressing firmly against my thick hard cock through my briefs. The contact made my dick twitch, throbbing harder against him, the ache sharpening with every slow shift of his hips.

He leaned down and kissed me again, slow and deep, hands roaming my chest and sides, learning the shape of me with careful reverent touches. His palms were warm, fingers tracing the lines of my ribs, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peaked under the attention. I arched into him, a quiet sound slipping from my throat as he rolled his hips once, deliberate, grinding our bulges together.

Then he moved lower. Lips on my neck, soft kisses turning to gentle sucks that left faint marks, his teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver. Down my chest, tongue circling one nipple, then the other, drawing a gasp from me as he lingered, sucking lightly until it hardened under his mouth. Lower still, kisses trailing over my abs, his tongue dipping into the shallow lines between them, tracing each ridge with slow deliberate strokes. His body hovered above mine, warm and solid, hips pressing down just enough to remind me of his own arousal grinding against my thigh.

His face moved lower, breath hot against my skin, until he hovered right above my bulge. He looked up at me, eyes dark and questioning, his mouth impossibly close, lips nearly brushing the straining fabric.

"Can I take these off?" he whispered.

I nodded, voice caught in my throat.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down slowly until my cock flopped out, thick and heavy, curving upward at a solid seven inches, the head flushed and glistening. A thin bead of precum stretched from the tip, sticking to the fabric in a glistening string that snapped as he tugged the briefs free.

Matteo leaned his face closer to my hard cock. "Let me take care of you."

"Matteo," I breathed, the word half plea, half whisper.

He wrapped his hand around me gently, fingers curling with care. Then he leaned in, tongue flicking out to lick the tip, lapping up the bead of precum that dangled there. The touch was electric, warm and wet, sending a jolt straight through me.

"Fuck," I groaned, hips twitching upward.

Matteo smiled up at me, cheeks flushed, then took the tip into his mouth, slow and careful, lips stretching around me. The feeling was overwhelming, the wet heat of his mouth enveloping me, tongue pressing flat against the underside as he sucked gently. Inexperienced, yes, but eager, his head bobbing in a tentative rhythm, hand holding the base steady while his lips worked the top.

I groaned louder, hand finding his curls, fingers threading through them without guiding yet. My cock twitched in his mouth, rock hard, the sensation of his saliva coating me making everything wetter and hotter.

"Jesus Christ, Romano," I breathed, eyes locked on the sight of him.

He took me deeper, halfway in, lips tight around me, then came back up with a soft wet slide. My hands instinctively went to his head, fingers tangling in his curls, trying to guide him through it with gentle pressure.

Matteo pulled off for a second, licking his lips, then took my balls into his mouth, sucking softly. My hips bucked up, cock resting heavy against his nose and eyes, the tip brushing his forehead. A string of precum stuck in his hair. His eyes looked directly at me from right behind my cock, dark and intense, holding my gaze as he sucked, the filthy intimacy of it making my whole body shudder.

"Shit," I breathed. "You aren't bad for a straight guy sucking dick."

He pulled off with a soft pop, smiling up at me, cheeks flushed. "So I have been watching some stuff online."

He started stroking me, hand slow and firm around my shaft. "Trying to figure out how to please you. Wanted to get it right."

"What stuff?" I asked, voice rough.

Matteo looked a little sheepish, hand still moving. "Gay porn. To see how it is done."

I laughed, the sound breathless and surprised. "For real? You are fucking serious?"

He grinned, thumb circling the head of my cock. "Yeah, come on. I have no clue what the fuck I am doing."

He leaned down again, licking a slow stripe up my abs, then took me back into his mouth, deeper this time. No more talking. The heat built fast, his mouth sliding wet and tight, tongue swirling around the head on every upstroke. Deeper now, humming around me so the vibrations shot straight through my core, making my toes curl. His free hand slid lower, cupping my balls gently, rolling them in his palm with careful squeezes that sent sparks up my spine.

I moaned, fingers tightening in his hair. The sight of him, curls messy between my thighs, lips stretched around me, was almost too much. My cock throbbed in his mouth, coated with saliva, every slide deeper pulling me closer to the edge.

Then slowly his hand moved below, fingers trailing between my ass cheeks, teasing the sensitive skin. I gasped, hips lifting, legs spreading wider to give him space.

"Matteo..."

He moaned around my cock, the vibration making me shudder. His finger reached my hole, pressing gently at first, then circling the rim with slow insistent pressure. A few seconds later it slipped inside, just the tip of his finger, then deeper, the intrusion burning sweet and full.

My cock throbbed harder in his mouth. "Ah fuck, Matteo..."

He started fingering me slowly, in and out, matching the rhythm of his mouth, the sensation building until everything blurred into heat and need. We were on the edge of something more, and I didn't want it to stop.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Matteo had asked me to be his fake boyfriend months ago after a bad breakup. He was done with relationships and tired of his friends constantly trying to set him up with girls. I said yes because he was my best friend and because even pretending felt better than watching him from the sidelines. That arrangement had brought us here, to this quiet apartment after a long night of guests and forced smiles, with his ex-girlfriend Jessica finally gone to her room and the last of the wine glasses left behind on the counter.

Matteo returned from the kitchen carrying two fresh glasses of water, the ice clinking softly against the sides. The apartment had gone quiet. The faint scent of pizza and spilled wine still hung in the air. He set the glasses on the coffee table and sat beside me on the couch, close enough that our thighs pressed together. His arm slid around my shoulders, pulling me gently into his side. His hand settled on my thigh, fingers warm through the fabric of my pants, thumb resting just above my knee.

For a long moment we didn't speak. The city lights flickered through the balcony doors, casting soft patterns across the floor. His breathing was steady, but I could feel the slight tension in his body, the way his fingers flexed once against my leg.

"About earlier," he said quietly, voice low in the stillness. "In the bathroom."

I nodded, throat tight. "Yeah."

He turned his head slightly, eyes finding mine. "I meant it, Cole. No more pretending."

My heart gave a hard thud. "What does that mean for us?"

His thumb moved in a slow circle on my thigh. "It means I want to explore what we have. For real."

The words settled over me like warm water. I swallowed. "Matteo, I thought you would never see me like that."

He smiled, small and soft. "I have been seeing you like that for a while. I just didn't know what to do with it."

I let out a shaky laugh. "I said yes to the fake thing because even pretending felt better than nothing."

His hand squeezed my thigh gently. "I know. And I am sorry it took me this long to say it out loud."

We sat like that for another minute, his arm around me, hand on my leg, the silence comfortable now instead of heavy. Then he shifted, turning toward me more fully.

"Can I kiss you again?" he asked, voice quiet.

I nodded.

He leaned in slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted. I didn't. His lips brushed mine, soft at first, then pressing deeper when I opened for him. The kiss was gentle and unhurried, his tongue sliding against mine with careful sweetness. His free hand came up to cup my jaw, thumb stroking along my cheekbone.

When we parted, his forehead rested against mine, breaths mingling. "I have been thinking about this all night," he murmured.

I smiled against his mouth. "Me too."

His hand slid from my jaw to the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair. He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue exploring slowly, drawing a quiet sound from me. His other hand moved higher on my thigh, fingers brushing the inside seam of my pants. Heat pooled low in my stomach, my cock already half hard from the closeness.

He pulled back just enough to speak, lips grazing mine. "Let’s go to my room. I don’t want Jessica accidentally walking in on us."

I nodded, heart racing. He stood and offered his hand. I took it. He led me down the short hallway, past the closed door of Jessica’s room, to his bedroom. The door closed behind us with a soft click, shutting out the rest of the world.

Moonlight spilled through the window, painting the bed in silver. Matteo turned to me, eyes dark and soft. "We can go slow," he said. "Whatever you want."

I stepped closer, hands finding his waist. "Okay."

He smiled, small and nervous, then kissed me again. His fingers worked the buttons of my white linen shirt open one by one, slow and careful. When the shirt fell open he pushed it off my shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. His palms slid up my bare chest, warm and reverent, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they hardened.

"You are beautiful," he whispered against my mouth.

He tugged his own t-shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Shirtless again, skin golden in the moonlight, abs flexing with every breath. I traced the lines of his body with my fingers, feeling the heat of him, the faint tremor running through his muscles.

We stripped down to underwear, the air cool against bare skin. Matteo in black boxers, the outline of his hardening cock clear against the fabric. Me in briefs, straining visibly. He looked at me, eyes wide, then smiled shyly.

"I am nervous," he admitted.

I stepped closer, hands on his hips. "Me too. But we don't have to rush."

He nodded, then gently pushed me back until the backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sank down onto the mattress, lying back against the pillows. Matteo followed immediately, climbing on top and straddling my thighs. His weight settled warm and solid over me, knees bracketing my hips, his bulge pressing firmly against my thick hard cock through my briefs. The contact made my dick twitch, throbbing harder against him, the ache sharpening with every slow shift of his hips.

He leaned down and kissed me again, slow and deep, hands roaming my chest and sides, learning the shape of me with careful reverent touches. His palms were warm, fingers tracing the lines of my ribs, thumbs brushing over my nipples until they peaked under the attention. I arched into him, a quiet sound slipping from my throat as he rolled his hips once, deliberate, grinding our bulges together.

Then he moved lower. Lips on my neck, soft kisses turning to gentle sucks that left faint marks, his teeth grazing just enough to make me shiver. Down my chest, tongue circling one nipple, then the other, drawing a gasp from me as he lingered, sucking lightly until it hardened under his mouth. Lower still, kisses trailing over my abs, his tongue dipping into the shallow lines between them, tracing each ridge with slow deliberate strokes. His body hovered above mine, warm and solid, hips pressing down just enough to remind me of his own arousal grinding against my thigh.

His face moved lower, breath hot against my skin, until he hovered right above my bulge. He looked up at me, eyes dark and questioning, his mouth impossibly close, lips nearly brushing the straining fabric.

"Can I take these off?" he whispered.

I nodded, voice caught in my throat.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and pulled them down slowly until my cock flopped out, thick and heavy, curving upward at a solid seven inches, the head flushed and glistening. A thin bead of precum stretched from the tip, sticking to the fabric in a glistening string that snapped as he tugged the briefs free.

Matteo leaned his face closer to my hard cock. "Let me take care of you."

"Matteo," I breathed, the word half plea, half whisper.

He wrapped his hand around me gently, fingers curling with care. Then he leaned in, tongue flicking out to lick the tip, lapping up the bead of precum that dangled there. The touch was electric, warm and wet, sending a jolt straight through me.

"Fuck," I groaned, hips twitching upward.

Matteo smiled up at me, cheeks flushed, then took the tip into his mouth, slow and careful, lips stretching around me. The feeling was overwhelming, the wet heat of his mouth enveloping me, tongue pressing flat against the underside as he sucked gently. Inexperienced, yes, but eager, his head bobbing in a tentative rhythm, hand holding the base steady while his lips worked the top.

I groaned louder, hand finding his curls, fingers threading through them without guiding yet. My cock twitched in his mouth, rock hard, the sensation of his saliva coating me making everything wetter and hotter.

"Jesus Christ, Romano," I breathed, eyes locked on the sight of him.

He took me deeper, halfway in, lips tight around me, then came back up with a soft wet slide. My hands instinctively went to his head, fingers tangling in his curls, trying to guide him through it with gentle pressure.

Matteo pulled off for a second, licking his lips, then took my balls into his mouth, sucking softly. My hips bucked up, cock resting heavy against his nose and eyes, the tip brushing his forehead. A string of precum stuck in his hair. His eyes looked directly at me from right behind my cock, dark and intense, holding my gaze as he sucked, the filthy intimacy of it making my whole body shudder.

"Shit," I breathed. "You aren't bad for a straight guy sucking dick."

He pulled off with a soft pop, smiling up at me, cheeks flushed. "So I have been watching some stuff online."

He started stroking me, hand slow and firm around my shaft. "Trying to figure out how to please you. Wanted to get it right."

"What stuff?" I asked, voice rough.

Matteo looked a little sheepish, hand still moving. "Gay porn. To see how it is done."

I laughed, the sound breathless and surprised. "For real? You are fucking serious?"

He grinned, thumb circling the head of my cock. "Yeah, come on. I have no clue what the fuck I am doing."

He leaned down again, licking a slow stripe up my abs, then took me back into his mouth, deeper this time. No more talking. The heat built fast, his mouth sliding wet and tight, tongue swirling around the head on every upstroke. Deeper now, humming around me so the vibrations shot straight through my core, making my toes curl. His free hand slid lower, cupping my balls gently, rolling them in his palm with careful squeezes that sent sparks up my spine.

I moaned, fingers tightening in his hair. The sight of him, curls messy between my thighs, lips stretched around me, was almost too much. My cock throbbed in his mouth, coated with saliva, every slide deeper pulling me closer to the edge.

Then slowly his hand moved below, fingers trailing between my ass cheeks, teasing the sensitive skin. I gasped, hips lifting, legs spreading wider to give him space.

"Matteo..."

He moaned around my cock, the vibration making me shudder. His finger reached my hole, pressing gently at first, then circling the rim with slow insistent pressure. A few seconds later it slipped inside, just the tip of his finger, then deeper, the intrusion burning sweet and full.

My cock throbbed harder in his mouth. "Ah fuck, Matteo..."

He started fingering me slowly, in and out, matching the rhythm of his mouth, the sensation building until everything blurred into heat and need. We were on the edge of something more, and I didn't want it to stop.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The wedding weekend was already stretching into the early hours when my brother Nathan finally crashed. We had been swapping stories about first dates and arguing over which college party had been the most chaotic when his eyelids started to droop. A few minutes later he was stretched out on the bed, dead to the world.

I checked the time. 1:37 a.m.

A text from my brother’s best friend lit up my phone. He must have sent it only a couple of minutes earlier.

“Already waiting for you at the pool.”

The emoji string that followed left nothing to the imagination.

I realized I had silenced my phone after one too many spam alerts. I had been so caught up talking with my brother Nathan that I never thought to check it.

I rose carefully, easing the chair back so it wouldn’t scrape, and slipped into the hall. The estate was silent in that deep way that almost hummed. Outside the air hung thick and warm, alive with the constant sound of insects after midnight.

I followed the gravel path all the way to the far side of the property. The lights of the main house faded behind me, replaced by the soft glow spilling from the pool. My heart was already pounding the way it does when you know exactly what is about to happen and still feel nervous.

The water shimmered under the moonlight, the surface broken by slow ripples. Calvin (my brother’s best man) stood waist deep in the swimming pool. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders dripped and shone under the underwater lights. Tattoos curved over his chest and arms, dark shapes shifting as he moved. The pale blue glow made every muscle stand out. Droplets ran in thin trails down his abs toward the waistband of his underwear.

He noticed me and that slow knowing grin spread across his face.

“Masey… don’t be shy. Jump in.”

I swallowed. Heat flooded my face. I pulled my shirt over my head, stepped out of my pants, and stood there in nothing but my underwear. The night air brushed my bare skin cool enough to raise goosebumps, but the sight of him dripping was already sending heat straight to my cock. It twitched, already half hard before I even touched the water.

I eased onto the edge and let my legs slip in first. The cool water made me gasp softly. I slid the rest of the way down, hands gripping the ledge behind me.

Calvin glided closer, eyes never leaving mine.

“You wanna race?” His voice was light, teasing, but the way he looked at me tightened my stomach.

I gave a short awkward laugh. “Uh… I actually… uhm…”

“What’s up?” He swam the last few feet until his chest nearly brushed mine. He leaned against the ledge beside me.

Then he laughed, low and warm.

“Fuck, Masey… don’t tell me you can’t swim.”

My own laugh came out nervous. “Maybe… not that well.”

Under the water his legs brushed mine. A moment later his hands found my waist, firm and certain, and pulled me toward him.

“You should’ve told me then,” he murmured, mouth close enough for his beard to scratch lightly against my cheek.

“I thought it would be… fun,” I answered.

He pushed his hips forward until the solid weight of his bulge pressed against mine. My breath caught.

“You mean… that kind of fun?” His voice dropped lower.

His left hand slid up, cradling the back of my head, tilting my face toward his. His gaze held mine for a fraction of a second before his mouth closed the distance.

The kiss hit like heat spreading under my skin. Wet, hungry, unhurried. His lips were firm and insistent, tasting faintly of chlorine and something darker. His beard scraped across my jaw with every movement. The water sloshed gently around us as I searched for his back and found warm, water soaked muscle.

He chuckled against my mouth.

“Mase… I got you.”

His grip tightened on my waist. One hand slid lower, gripping the curve of my ass under the water and pulling me harder against him. Our cocks, trapped in soaked underwear, ground together with slow deliberate friction that made my knees weak. His other hand stayed tangled in my hair, holding me in place, deepening the kiss until I could barely think.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was him taking his time, letting me know exactly how much control he had.

His hand slipped inside my trunks and grabbed my ass. He squeezed hard, fingers spreading me open before one of them found my hole. He circled it lazily until I broke the kiss just to breathe.

“I can feel your bulge grinding against mine,” he murmured.

“Fuck, Cal, someone might catch us,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry. They don’t know what’s happening under the water.” He shifted his hips, grinding his bulge over mine until our cocks brushed.

“You feel how hard you make me.”

I tried to answer but the words died in a moan as his finger finally pushed inside my hole. His grip stayed tight, possessive.

I clutched his shoulders. “Calvin—”

He cut me off with a kiss that was all tongue this time, pulling me in until I had no choice but to let him hold me. The heat of his pecs against my chest made me forget where we were until I glanced past his shoulder. The estate loomed, balconies dark except for the occasional slit of light behind drawn curtains. Anyone could step outside and look down into the pool.

Calvin felt me tense and smirked against my mouth.

“Relax. Everyone’s asleep.”

His fingers left my hole. He reached inside his own underwear. I felt it before I saw it: the thick weight of his cock pressing against my thigh, hot and heavy even in the cool water. My stomach flipped.

I slid my hand down, found his cock under the surface, and stroked slowly at first. The contrast was fucking insane. Cool pool water, hard dick, the danger of being caught. Calvin groaned low, forehead resting against mine.

“Stroke it for me,” he ordered, voice ragged. “Like you’re dying to taste it.”

I obeyed, pumping him while his hands returned. One clamped on my ass, the other teasing my hole with maddening circles. Every brush made my hips jolt.

Then he eased back. Water rippled between us. In one powerful motion he pushed himself up onto the ledge. Droplets streamed down his chest and arms. The ink on his skin gleamed. He shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, already glistening. He leaned back slightly, legs spread, smirk daring me to look away.

“Come here.”

I moved forward, grabbed his thighs, and let the water keep me buoyed as I leaned in. My mouth opened around him. The taste of chlorine and skin filled me. My hands clutched the meat of his legs for balance. Above me Calvin let out a muffled curse. One hand gripped my hair. The other flexed against the stone.

All the while I kept glancing up at the balconies. My pulse spiked at every shadow. From behind, anyone would only see Calvin’s broad back, protective, concealing what I was doing to him under the cloak of night.

The moment I took his cock deeper, his breath caught in a sharp hiss. His palm guided me slowly, testing the rhythm. I tried to anchor myself against his thigh so I would not slip under, but he only chuckled.

“C’mon, Masey. You won’t drown. I won’t let you.”

His hand pressed firmer against the back of my head. Fingers threaded into my wet hair, holding me in place as his hips shifted forward. The tip of his cock nudged deeper across my tongue. My throat tightened around him. The water lifted me weightlessly as if the pool itself wanted to carry me closer.

I gagged once, soft, and pulled back for air. He laughed again, quiet and breathy, legs tensing on either side of me.

“Fuck, that’s it… been waiting all night for that mouth.”

His calves curled around my back under the water, pulling me closer. His thighs locked me between them, not trapping but cradling, making me steady so I wouldn’t slip. The weight of him made it easier to take him deeper.

He moaned low and ragged. One hand stayed anchored on the back of my head as I slid down. His cock filled my mouth thick and hard, stretching my lips. I gagged lightly. The wet sound echoed beneath the surface when I pushed deeper.

I could taste every inch, every throb. The pool water shifted against my shoulders with each motion. His abs tightened. Tattoos rippled with the strain. His thighs flexed hard against me, holding me in place, feeding me his length.

I pressed lower. Jaw aching. Throat opening until his tip forced past the edge of resistance and slid deep. I choked around him. My nose buried against his wet skin. Water spilled from my mouth as I gagged. Spit and pool water ran down his shaft and dripped over his thighs. He hissed, groaning at the mess. His hand stayed heavy on my hair, keeping me there just long enough for my vision to blur before he let me drag back up.

The sound was filthy. Wet gags and sloppy drags. Bubbles catching in my throat. His cock dragging out coated and glistening. I went back down harder, desperate to feel him twitch against the back of my tongue again. Greedy for the stretch, the burn, the way his hips jerked forward like he could not stop himself. Drool and water poured from my lips in streams, streaking his thighs. The surface of the pool rippled with every movement.

“Fuck, keep going,” he rasped, voice guttural. His thighs clamped against me, not letting me pull away too far, using me, needing me. Every thrust went deeper until I was gagging openly for him, the sound muffled by the water and his cock stuffing my throat.

Just when he was buried deep I froze.

A sound came from above. The creak of a balcony door. A faint click of a switch. Sudden light washed across the pool tiles.

Someone stepped out onto the first floor balcony of the estate.

“Yo… is that you, Calvin?”

The voice belonged to Miguel, one of the groomsmen.

Calvin’s head whipped over his shoulder. His hand clamped harder on the back of my head, pressing me down against his cock. I couldn’t tell if he was shielding my face or simply burying his cock deeper down my throat. Probably both.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The wedding weekend was already stretching into the early hours when my brother Nathan finally crashed. We had been swapping stories about first dates and arguing over which college party had been the most chaotic when his eyelids started to droop. A few minutes later he was stretched out on the bed, dead to the world.

I checked the time. 1:37 a.m.

A text from my brother’s best friend lit up my phone. He must have sent it only a couple of minutes earlier.

“Already waiting for you at the pool.”

The emoji string that followed left nothing to the imagination.

I realized I had silenced my phone after one too many spam alerts. I had been so caught up talking with my brother Nathan that I never thought to check it.

I rose carefully, easing the chair back so it wouldn’t scrape, and slipped into the hall. The estate was silent in that deep way that almost hummed. Outside the air hung thick and warm, alive with the constant sound of insects after midnight.

I followed the gravel path all the way to the far side of the property. The lights of the main house faded behind me, replaced by the soft glow spilling from the pool. My heart was already pounding the way it does when you know exactly what is about to happen and still feel nervous.

The water shimmered under the moonlight, the surface broken by slow ripples. Calvin (my brother’s best man) stood waist deep in the swimming pool. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders dripped and shone under the underwater lights. Tattoos curved over his chest and arms, dark shapes shifting as he moved. The pale blue glow made every muscle stand out. Droplets ran in thin trails down his abs toward the waistband of his underwear.

He noticed me and that slow knowing grin spread across his face.

“Masey… don’t be shy. Jump in.”

I swallowed. Heat flooded my face. I pulled my shirt over my head, stepped out of my pants, and stood there in nothing but my underwear. The night air brushed my bare skin cool enough to raise goosebumps, but the sight of him dripping was already sending heat straight to my cock. It twitched, already half hard before I even touched the water.

I eased onto the edge and let my legs slip in first. The cool water made me gasp softly. I slid the rest of the way down, hands gripping the ledge behind me.

Calvin glided closer, eyes never leaving mine.

“You wanna race?” His voice was light, teasing, but the way he looked at me tightened my stomach.

I gave a short awkward laugh. “Uh… I actually… uhm…”

“What’s up?” He swam the last few feet until his chest nearly brushed mine. He leaned against the ledge beside me.

Then he laughed, low and warm.

“Fuck, Masey… don’t tell me you can’t swim.”

My own laugh came out nervous. “Maybe… not that well.”

Under the water his legs brushed mine. A moment later his hands found my waist, firm and certain, and pulled me toward him.

“You should’ve told me then,” he murmured, mouth close enough for his beard to scratch lightly against my cheek.

“I thought it would be… fun,” I answered.

He pushed his hips forward until the solid weight of his bulge pressed against mine. My breath caught.

“You mean… that kind of fun?” His voice dropped lower.

His left hand slid up, cradling the back of my head, tilting my face toward his. His gaze held mine for a fraction of a second before his mouth closed the distance.

The kiss hit like heat spreading under my skin. Wet, hungry, unhurried. His lips were firm and insistent, tasting faintly of chlorine and something darker. His beard scraped across my jaw with every movement. The water sloshed gently around us as I searched for his back and found warm, water soaked muscle.

He chuckled against my mouth.

“Mase… I got you.”

His grip tightened on my waist. One hand slid lower, gripping the curve of my ass under the water and pulling me harder against him. Our cocks, trapped in soaked underwear, ground together with slow deliberate friction that made my knees weak. His other hand stayed tangled in my hair, holding me in place, deepening the kiss until I could barely think.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was him taking his time, letting me know exactly how much control he had.

His hand slipped inside my trunks and grabbed my ass. He squeezed hard, fingers spreading me open before one of them found my hole. He circled it lazily until I broke the kiss just to breathe.

“I can feel your bulge grinding against mine,” he murmured.

“Fuck, Cal, someone might catch us,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry. They don’t know what’s happening under the water.” He shifted his hips, grinding his bulge over mine until our cocks brushed.

“You feel how hard you make me.”

I tried to answer but the words died in a moan as his finger finally pushed inside my hole. His grip stayed tight, possessive.

I clutched his shoulders. “Calvin—”

He cut me off with a kiss that was all tongue this time, pulling me in until I had no choice but to let him hold me. The heat of his pecs against my chest made me forget where we were until I glanced past his shoulder. The estate loomed, balconies dark except for the occasional slit of light behind drawn curtains. Anyone could step outside and look down into the pool.

Calvin felt me tense and smirked against my mouth.

“Relax. Everyone’s asleep.”

His fingers left my hole. He reached inside his own underwear. I felt it before I saw it: the thick weight of his cock pressing against my thigh, hot and heavy even in the cool water. My stomach flipped.

I slid my hand down, found his cock under the surface, and stroked slowly at first. The contrast was fucking insane. Cool pool water, hard dick, the danger of being caught. Calvin groaned low, forehead resting against mine.

“Stroke it for me,” he ordered, voice ragged. “Like you’re dying to taste it.”

I obeyed, pumping him while his hands returned. One clamped on my ass, the other teasing my hole with maddening circles. Every brush made my hips jolt.

Then he eased back. Water rippled between us. In one powerful motion he pushed himself up onto the ledge. Droplets streamed down his chest and arms. The ink on his skin gleamed. He shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, already glistening. He leaned back slightly, legs spread, smirk daring me to look away.

“Come here.”

I moved forward, grabbed his thighs, and let the water keep me buoyed as I leaned in. My mouth opened around him. The taste of chlorine and skin filled me. My hands clutched the meat of his legs for balance. Above me Calvin let out a muffled curse. One hand gripped my hair. The other flexed against the stone.

All the while I kept glancing up at the balconies. My pulse spiked at every shadow. From behind, anyone would only see Calvin’s broad back, protective, concealing what I was doing to him under the cloak of night.

The moment I took his cock deeper, his breath caught in a sharp hiss. His palm guided me slowly, testing the rhythm. I tried to anchor myself against his thigh so I would not slip under, but he only chuckled.

“C’mon, Masey. You won’t drown. I won’t let you.”

His hand pressed firmer against the back of my head. Fingers threaded into my wet hair, holding me in place as his hips shifted forward. The tip of his cock nudged deeper across my tongue. My throat tightened around him. The water lifted me weightlessly as if the pool itself wanted to carry me closer.

I gagged once, soft, and pulled back for air. He laughed again, quiet and breathy, legs tensing on either side of me.

“Fuck, that’s it… been waiting all night for that mouth.”

His calves curled around my back under the water, pulling me closer. His thighs locked me between them, not trapping but cradling, making me steady so I wouldn’t slip. The weight of him made it easier to take him deeper.

He moaned low and ragged. One hand stayed anchored on the back of my head as I slid down. His cock filled my mouth thick and hard, stretching my lips. I gagged lightly. The wet sound echoed beneath the surface when I pushed deeper.

I could taste every inch, every throb. The pool water shifted against my shoulders with each motion. His abs tightened. Tattoos rippled with the strain. His thighs flexed hard against me, holding me in place, feeding me his length.

I pressed lower. Jaw aching. Throat opening until his tip forced past the edge of resistance and slid deep. I choked around him. My nose buried against his wet skin. Water spilled from my mouth as I gagged. Spit and pool water ran down his shaft and dripped over his thighs. He hissed, groaning at the mess. His hand stayed heavy on my hair, keeping me there just long enough for my vision to blur before he let me drag back up.

The sound was filthy. Wet gags and sloppy drags. Bubbles catching in my throat. His cock dragging out coated and glistening. I went back down harder, desperate to feel him twitch against the back of my tongue again. Greedy for the stretch, the burn, the way his hips jerked forward like he could not stop himself. Drool and water poured from my lips in streams, streaking his thighs. The surface of the pool rippled with every movement.

“Fuck, keep going,” he rasped, voice guttural. His thighs clamped against me, not letting me pull away too far, using me, needing me. Every thrust went deeper until I was gagging openly for him, the sound muffled by the water and his cock stuffing my throat.

Just when he was buried deep I froze.

A sound came from above. The creak of a balcony door. A faint click of a switch. Sudden light washed across the pool tiles.

Someone stepped out onto the first floor balcony of the estate.

“Yo… is that you, Calvin?”

The voice belonged to Miguel, one of the groomsmen.

Calvin’s head whipped over his shoulder. His hand clamped harder on the back of my head, pressing me down against his cock. I couldn’t tell if he was shielding my face or simply burying his cock deeper down my throat. Probably both.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The wedding weekend was already stretching into the early hours when my brother Nathan finally crashed. We had been swapping stories about first dates and arguing over which college party had been the most chaotic when his eyelids started to droop. A few minutes later he was stretched out on the bed, dead to the world.

I checked the time. 1:37 a.m.

A text from my brother’s best friend lit up my phone. He must have sent it only a couple of minutes earlier.

“Already waiting for you at the pool.”

The emoji string that followed left nothing to the imagination.

I realized I had silenced my phone after one too many spam alerts. I had been so caught up talking with my brother Nathan that I never thought to check it.

I rose carefully, easing the chair back so it wouldn’t scrape, and slipped into the hall. The estate was silent in that deep way that almost hummed. Outside the air hung thick and warm, alive with the constant sound of insects after midnight.

I followed the gravel path all the way to the far side of the property. The lights of the main house faded behind me, replaced by the soft glow spilling from the pool. My heart was already pounding the way it does when you know exactly what is about to happen and still feel nervous.

The water shimmered under the moonlight, the surface broken by slow ripples. Calvin (my brother’s best man) stood waist deep in the swimming pool. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders dripped and shone under the underwater lights. Tattoos curved over his chest and arms, dark shapes shifting as he moved. The pale blue glow made every muscle stand out. Droplets ran in thin trails down his abs toward the waistband of his underwear.

He noticed me and that slow knowing grin spread across his face.

“Masey… don’t be shy. Jump in.”

I swallowed. Heat flooded my face. I pulled my shirt over my head, stepped out of my pants, and stood there in nothing but my underwear. The night air brushed my bare skin cool enough to raise goosebumps, but the sight of him dripping was already sending heat straight to my cock. It twitched, already half hard before I even touched the water.

I eased onto the edge and let my legs slip in first. The cool water made me gasp softly. I slid the rest of the way down, hands gripping the ledge behind me.

Calvin glided closer, eyes never leaving mine.

“You wanna race?” His voice was light, teasing, but the way he looked at me tightened my stomach.

I gave a short awkward laugh. “Uh… I actually… uhm…”

“What’s up?” He swam the last few feet until his chest nearly brushed mine. He leaned against the ledge beside me.

Then he laughed, low and warm.

“Fuck, Masey… don’t tell me you can’t swim.”

My own laugh came out nervous. “Maybe… not that well.”

Under the water his legs brushed mine. A moment later his hands found my waist, firm and certain, and pulled me toward him.

“You should’ve told me then,” he murmured, mouth close enough for his beard to scratch lightly against my cheek.

“I thought it would be… fun,” I answered.

He pushed his hips forward until the solid weight of his bulge pressed against mine. My breath caught.

“You mean… that kind of fun?” His voice dropped lower.

His left hand slid up, cradling the back of my head, tilting my face toward his. His gaze held mine for a fraction of a second before his mouth closed the distance.

The kiss hit like heat spreading under my skin. Wet, hungry, unhurried. His lips were firm and insistent, tasting faintly of chlorine and something darker. His beard scraped across my jaw with every movement. The water sloshed gently around us as I searched for his back and found warm, water soaked muscle.

He chuckled against my mouth.

“Mase… I got you.”

His grip tightened on my waist. One hand slid lower, gripping the curve of my ass under the water and pulling me harder against him. Our cocks, trapped in soaked underwear, ground together with slow deliberate friction that made my knees weak. His other hand stayed tangled in my hair, holding me in place, deepening the kiss until I could barely think.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was him taking his time, letting me know exactly how much control he had.

His hand slipped inside my trunks and grabbed my ass. He squeezed hard, fingers spreading me open before one of them found my hole. He circled it lazily until I broke the kiss just to breathe.

“I can feel your bulge grinding against mine,” he murmured.

“Fuck, Cal, someone might catch us,” I whispered.

“Don’t worry. They don’t know what’s happening under the water.” He shifted his hips, grinding his bulge over mine until our cocks brushed.

“You feel how hard you make me.”

I tried to answer but the words died in a moan as his finger finally pushed inside my hole. His grip stayed tight, possessive.

I clutched his shoulders. “Calvin—”

He cut me off with a kiss that was all tongue this time, pulling me in until I had no choice but to let him hold me. The heat of his pecs against my chest made me forget where we were until I glanced past his shoulder. The estate loomed, balconies dark except for the occasional slit of light behind drawn curtains. Anyone could step outside and look down into the pool.

Calvin felt me tense and smirked against my mouth.

“Relax. Everyone’s asleep.”

His fingers left my hole. He reached inside his own underwear. I felt it before I saw it: the thick weight of his cock pressing against my thigh, hot and heavy even in the cool water. My stomach flipped.

I slid my hand down, found his cock under the surface, and stroked slowly at first. The contrast was fucking insane. Cool pool water, hard dick, the danger of being caught. Calvin groaned low, forehead resting against mine.

“Stroke it for me,” he ordered, voice ragged. “Like you’re dying to taste it.”

I obeyed, pumping him while his hands returned. One clamped on my ass, the other teasing my hole with maddening circles. Every brush made my hips jolt.

Then he eased back. Water rippled between us. In one powerful motion he pushed himself up onto the ledge. Droplets streamed down his chest and arms. The ink on his skin gleamed. He shoved his trunks down just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, already glistening. He leaned back slightly, legs spread, smirk daring me to look away.

“Come here.”

I moved forward, grabbed his thighs, and let the water keep me buoyed as I leaned in. My mouth opened around him. The taste of chlorine and skin filled me. My hands clutched the meat of his legs for balance. Above me Calvin let out a muffled curse. One hand gripped my hair. The other flexed against the stone.

All the while I kept glancing up at the balconies. My pulse spiked at every shadow. From behind, anyone would only see Calvin’s broad back, protective, concealing what I was doing to him under the cloak of night.

The moment I took his cock deeper, his breath caught in a sharp hiss. His palm guided me slowly, testing the rhythm. I tried to anchor myself against his thigh so I would not slip under, but he only chuckled.

“C’mon, Masey. You won’t drown. I won’t let you.”

His hand pressed firmer against the back of my head. Fingers threaded into my wet hair, holding me in place as his hips shifted forward. The tip of his cock nudged deeper across my tongue. My throat tightened around him. The water lifted me weightlessly as if the pool itself wanted to carry me closer.

I gagged once, soft, and pulled back for air. He laughed again, quiet and breathy, legs tensing on either side of me.

“Fuck, that’s it… been waiting all night for that mouth.”

His calves curled around my back under the water, pulling me closer. His thighs locked me between them, not trapping but cradling, making me steady so I wouldn’t slip. The weight of him made it easier to take him deeper.

He moaned low and ragged. One hand stayed anchored on the back of my head as I slid down. His cock filled my mouth thick and hard, stretching my lips. I gagged lightly. The wet sound echoed beneath the surface when I pushed deeper.

I could taste every inch, every throb. The pool water shifted against my shoulders with each motion. His abs tightened. Tattoos rippled with the strain. His thighs flexed hard against me, holding me in place, feeding me his length.

I pressed lower. Jaw aching. Throat opening until his tip forced past the edge of resistance and slid deep. I choked around him. My nose buried against his wet skin. Water spilled from my mouth as I gagged. Spit and pool water ran down his shaft and dripped over his thighs. He hissed, groaning at the mess. His hand stayed heavy on my hair, keeping me there just long enough for my vision to blur before he let me drag back up.

The sound was filthy. Wet gags and sloppy drags. Bubbles catching in my throat. His cock dragging out coated and glistening. I went back down harder, desperate to feel him twitch against the back of my tongue again. Greedy for the stretch, the burn, the way his hips jerked forward like he could not stop himself. Drool and water poured from my lips in streams, streaking his thighs. The surface of the pool rippled with every movement.

“Fuck, keep going,” he rasped, voice guttural. His thighs clamped against me, not letting me pull away too far, using me, needing me. Every thrust went deeper until I was gagging openly for him, the sound muffled by the water and his cock stuffing my throat.

Just when he was buried deep I froze.

A sound came from above. The creak of a balcony door. A faint click of a switch. Sudden light washed across the pool tiles.

Someone stepped out onto the first floor balcony of the estate.

“Yo… is that you, Calvin?”

The voice belonged to Miguel, one of the groomsmen.

Calvin’s head whipped over his shoulder. His hand clamped harder on the back of my head, pressing me down against his cock. I couldn’t tell if he was shielding my face or simply burying his cock deeper down my throat. Probably both.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Camp Blackridge kept pushing us harder every single day. Morning PT had become brutal under the rising sun. Sergeant Ashford was still singling me out more than anyone else. During one session he made me run extra laps with a weighted vest while the rest of the platoon watched. When I finally finished, he stepped close and spoke in that low British accent only I could hear.

"You need more private work, Rhodes. Your body still fights itself. We will fix that soon."

The words sent a strange shiver down my spine. He didn't explain what he meant but the promise in his voice lingered long after he walked away.

Ryder - my bunkmate on the other hand had become even more obvious with his teasing in front of everyone. During lunch he would slide extra food onto my tray and say loud enough for the table to hear, "Eat up baby girl. You need your strength for me later." Or during water breaks he would throw an arm around my shoulders and grin, "My camp wife is looking tired today. Come here let me carry your pack for a bit." The other recruits laughed but some of them started giving us knowing looks. I'd always shove him away and tell him to fuck off but I couldn't hide the smile or the warmth that spread through my chest every time.

Alistair kept throwing jealous jabs whenever he could. "Still playing house with your boyfriend Rhodes?" he would mutter loud enough for people nearby to hear.

Julian had noticed everything. One evening during gear cleaning he pulled me aside and spoke quietly. "You and Ryder seem really close lately," he said with a small smile. "Everything okay? You look like you are carrying a lot."

I shrugged trying to play it cool. "Yeah we are just bros. Helps with the stress I guess."

Julian nodded but his eyes suggested he didn't fully believe me. "Just be careful Callum. This place has a way of making things complicated."

I kept thinking about his words. I was confused but addicted. Sergeant gave me that dangerous burning feeling every time he stood behind me or corrected my form. Ryder gave me warmth and safety that I had never known before. Both of them were pulling me in different directions and I didn’t know how much longer I could balance it.

That night after lights out, Ryder had pulled me up to the top bunk with him. "Come on. Better view from up here," he had said with a grin. We were both in just our boxers lying side by side in the narrow space. His big body took up most of the bunk. Our legs were tangled and his arm rested heavy across my waist. We had been talking quietly about nothing important when I noticed movement below.

One by one guys were slipping out of their bunks. They moved silently toward the door leading to the showers. First two. Then three more. Then another pair. No one spoke. They just disappeared into the darkness.

"What the fuck is happening?" I whispered.

Ryder shifted beside me. He looked down at the floor then back at me. "Dude you don’t know about the ritual? It’s the night."

I turned my head to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Ryder sat up a little keeping his voice low. "Did you not hear the older recruits talking about it last week? One of the guys who is here for his third time told everyone. Every platoon does this once a month. Secret stress relief thing. No one talks about it after."

I stared at him confused. More guys were leaving their bunks now moving like shadows.

Ryder swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down quietly. He looked up at me and offered his hand. "Come on. Let’s go."

I hesitated for a second but took his hand and climbed down. We both stood there in our boxers. My heart was beating fast. "Ryder what is this exactly?"

He shushed me gently, putting a finger to his lips. "Sergeants cannot catch us. Just follow me and stay quiet."

We moved carefully through the dark common room following the last few guys. The corridor felt longer than usual. My bare feet were cold on the floor. Ryder stayed close beside me, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps. We reached the entrance to the communal shower area. Low voices and the sound of running water drifted out.

Ryder glanced at me one last time. His eyes were dark with excitement and nerves.

We stepped inside the communal shower area and the sight stopped me cold. 18-20 guys stood crammed together in a loose circle under the dim safety lights. Every single one of them was completely naked. Steam hung thick in the air from the few showerheads left running low. The room smelled heavy with sweat, soap, and raw male musk. No one spoke. The only sounds were the wet rhythmic slap of fists on cocks and the low heavy breathing of stressed out recruits trying to get off.

I recognized faces immediately. Julian stood on the far side looking nervous as hell, his slim toned body flushed pink, hand moving steadily up and down his hard length. Alistair was closer to the center smirking even while he stroked himself, his lean wiry frame tense and his cock thick in his fist. Ramirez was there too… breathing heavy, his chubby belly jiggling slightly with every stroke. A few other recruits I knew by sight only stood around the circle, all of them rock hard, all of them focused on their own pleasure and the naked bodies surrounding them.

No one touched anyone else. It was just a circle of straight guys jerking off together in silence like it was the most normal way to blow off steam after a brutal week. The raw energy in the room was insane. Broad shoulders glistening with sweat. Defined chests rising and falling fast. Powerful thighs spread slightly for balance. Cocks of every shape and size being pumped openly under the low light. The wet sounds echoed off the tiles making everything feel even more intense.

Ryder and I were gently pulled into the open spot in the circle by the natural flow of bodies. No one said a word. We found space right next to each other. I pushed my boxers down and stepped out of them. My cock sprang free already fully hard and leaking at the tip. Ryder did the same beside me. His thick cock bounced out heavy and flushed, the head shiny with pre-cum.

I wrapped my hand around myself and started stroking. The feeling of being surrounded by so many naked fit guys was overwhelming. I looked at the way sweat ran down someone’s abs, at the way another guy’s balls tightened as he got closer, at the flex of forearms and the clench of jaws. But my eyes kept drifting back to Ryder and his 7” hard cock. The way his muscular arm flexed with every stroke. The way his abs tightened. The thick vein running along the top of his cock as he worked it. I tried to focus on the others but it was useless. My gaze kept returning to him.

This was completely insane. Straight soldiers from the same platoon standing shoulder to shoulder jerking off in the middle of the night like it was just another way to handle the stress. Yet no one questioned it. No one laughed or joked. It was silent and serious. Just a shared release. Shared need. I stroked faster feeling the eyes of the circle occasionally flick toward me and Ryder. Alistair smirked as he watched us, his fist moving quicker. Julian kept his head down but I caught him glancing our way more than once.

The room grew hotter. Steam and sweat mixed until the air felt thick enough to taste. Heavy breathing filled the space. Someone let out a low grunt as he got close. Another guy’s thighs started to shake. Cocks were rock hard all around us, heads swollen and leaking. I could hear the wet slick sounds getting louder as everyone picked up speed. My own cock throbbed painfully in my fist. Pre-cum ran down my shaft making my strokes smooth and noisy.

Ryder’s shoulder brushed mine again. Our strokes had fallen into the same rhythm without either of us trying. I could hear his breathing getting rougher beside me. My own cock pulsed hard every time I glanced at his thick length sliding through his fist. The strange intimacy of it all made my head spin. All these strong masculine bodies chasing the same release together. No talking. No judgment. Just pure need.

In the middle of it, Ryder stepped half a step closer. His bare arm pressed against mine. He leaned in until his mouth was right next to my ear and whispered, “Wanna get the fuck out of here?”

I nodded immediately. We were both rock hard and leaking badly but neither of us could finish in this crowded circle. It felt too exposed. Too strange with everyone watching. We quietly stepped back from the circle, pulled our underwear back on over our throbbing erections, and slipped out of the shower room while the others kept going. Behind us a couple of guys groaned low as they finally came, shooting thick ropes onto the wet tile floor. The sounds followed us into the corridor.

The dark hallway felt cooler on our heated skin. We stood there breathing hard, both of us still painfully hard, our cocks tenting our underwear obscenely.

“Fuck dude,” Ryder whispered, his hand rubbing over the massive bulge in his boxers. “I was rock hard in there but I couldn’t bust a nut. It felt weird as fuck with everyone watching.”

I nodded, my own hand moving down to stroke myself gently over the fabric. “Same. I could feel the cum leaking out the tip but it just would not come. Too many naked dudes around. It felt off.”

We both laughed quietly, the sound nervous and giddy at the same time. We kept rubbing ourselves right there in the corridor, stroking over our underwear, unable to stop. Ryder’s briefs had a growing wet spot at the front where he was leaking badly.

“Bro you are leaking like crazy,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the dark patch spreading across his fabric.

Ryder looked down at my own tent and grinned. “Talk about yours, camp wife. You are making a whole fucking mess down there too.”

The tension between us crackled hotter than ever. We were both breathing heavy, hands still moving slowly on ourselves, cocks aching for more.

Ryder stepped closer until our chests almost touched. His voice dropped low and rough, the way it did when he was trying to sound casual but failing. “There is that small supply storeroom down the hall. No one goes in there at night. We can finish in silence there… away from all the guys.”

I nodded without hesitation. My heart pounded as we moved quickly and quietly down the corridor. Ryder pushed open the door to the Supply Storeroom, a small locked equipment room filled with shelves of extra gear, boots, and training supplies. The space was tight and dark, barely big enough for both of us. We slipped inside and closed the door behind us. The click of the latch sounded loud in the silence.

My mind was spinning. The images from the ritual, all those hard naked bodies, Ryder stroking next to me, the way his eyes had stayed on mine the entire time. I was rock hard and leaking again just thinking about it. Whatever happened next in this small dark room, I knew things between us were never going to be the same.

--------‐-

Checkout more episodes on my Patreon StoriesByTroy.

Private Time With My Camp Husband

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older Camp Blackridge kept pushing us harder every single day. Morning PT had become brutal under the rising sun. Sergeant Ashford was still singling me out more than anyone else. During one session he made me run extra laps with a weighted vest while the rest of the platoon watched. When I finally finished, he stepped close and spoke in that low British accent only I could hear.

"You need more private work, Rhodes. Your body still fights itself. We will fix that soon."

The words sent a strange shiver down my spine. He didn't explain what he meant but the promise in his voice lingered long after he walked away.

Ryder - my bunkmate on the other hand had become even more obvious with his teasing in front of everyone. During lunch he would slide extra food onto my tray and say loud enough for the table to hear, "Eat up baby girl. You need your strength for me later." Or during water breaks he would throw an arm around my shoulders and grin, "My camp wife is looking tired today. Come here let me carry your pack for a bit." The other recruits laughed but some of them started giving us knowing looks. I'd always shove him away and tell him to fuck off but I couldn't hide the smile or the warmth that spread through my chest every time.

Alistair kept throwing jealous jabs whenever he could. "Still playing house with your boyfriend Rhodes?" he would mutter loud enough for people nearby to hear.

Julian had noticed everything. One evening during gear cleaning he pulled me aside and spoke quietly. "You and Ryder seem really close lately," he said with a small smile. "Everything okay? You look like you are carrying a lot."

I shrugged trying to play it cool. "Yeah we are just bros. Helps with the stress I guess."

Julian nodded but his eyes suggested he didn't fully believe me. "Just be careful Callum. This place has a way of making things complicated."

I kept thinking about his words. I was confused but addicted. Sergeant gave me that dangerous burning feeling every time he stood behind me or corrected my form. Ryder gave me warmth and safety that I had never known before. Both of them were pulling me in different directions and I didn’t know how much longer I could balance it.

That night after lights out, Ryder had pulled me up to the top bunk with him. "Come on. Better view from up here," he had said with a grin. We were both in just our boxers lying side by side in the narrow space. His big body took up most of the bunk. Our legs were tangled and his arm rested heavy across my waist. We had been talking quietly about nothing important when I noticed movement below.

One by one guys were slipping out of their bunks. They moved silently toward the door leading to the showers. First two. Then three more. Then another pair. No one spoke. They just disappeared into the darkness.

"What the fuck is happening?" I whispered.

Ryder shifted beside me. He looked down at the floor then back at me. "Dude you don’t know about the ritual? It’s the night."

I turned my head to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Ryder sat up a little keeping his voice low. "Did you not hear the older recruits talking about it last week? One of the guys who is here for his third time told everyone. Every platoon does this once a month. Secret stress relief thing. No one talks about it after."

I stared at him confused. More guys were leaving their bunks now moving like shadows.

Ryder swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down quietly. He looked up at me and offered his hand. "Come on. Let’s go."

I hesitated for a second but took his hand and climbed down. We both stood there in our boxers. My heart was beating fast. "Ryder what is this exactly?"

He shushed me gently, putting a finger to his lips. "Sergeants cannot catch us. Just follow me and stay quiet."

We moved carefully through the dark common room following the last few guys. The corridor felt longer than usual. My bare feet were cold on the floor. Ryder stayed close beside me, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps. We reached the entrance to the communal shower area. Low voices and the sound of running water drifted out.

Ryder glanced at me one last time. His eyes were dark with excitement and nerves.

We stepped inside the communal shower area and the sight stopped me cold. 18-20 guys stood crammed together in a loose circle under the dim safety lights. Every single one of them was completely naked. Steam hung thick in the air from the few showerheads left running low. The room smelled heavy with sweat, soap, and raw male musk. No one spoke. The only sounds were the wet rhythmic slap of fists on cocks and the low heavy breathing of stressed out recruits trying to get off.

I recognized faces immediately. Julian stood on the far side looking nervous as hell, his slim toned body flushed pink, hand moving steadily up and down his hard length. Alistair was closer to the center smirking even while he stroked himself, his lean wiry frame tense and his cock thick in his fist. Ramirez was there too… breathing heavy, his chubby belly jiggling slightly with every stroke. A few other recruits I knew by sight only stood around the circle, all of them rock hard, all of them focused on their own pleasure and the naked bodies surrounding them.

No one touched anyone else. It was just a circle of straight guys jerking off together in silence like it was the most normal way to blow off steam after a brutal week. The raw energy in the room was insane. Broad shoulders glistening with sweat. Defined chests rising and falling fast. Powerful thighs spread slightly for balance. Cocks of every shape and size being pumped openly under the low light. The wet sounds echoed off the tiles making everything feel even more intense.

Ryder and I were gently pulled into the open spot in the circle by the natural flow of bodies. No one said a word. We found space right next to each other. I pushed my boxers down and stepped out of them. My cock sprang free already fully hard and leaking at the tip. Ryder did the same beside me. His thick cock bounced out heavy and flushed, the head shiny with pre-cum.

I wrapped my hand around myself and started stroking. The feeling of being surrounded by so many naked fit guys was overwhelming. I looked at the way sweat ran down someone’s abs, at the way another guy’s balls tightened as he got closer, at the flex of forearms and the clench of jaws. But my eyes kept drifting back to Ryder and his 7” hard cock. The way his muscular arm flexed with every stroke. The way his abs tightened. The thick vein running along the top of his cock as he worked it. I tried to focus on the others but it was useless. My gaze kept returning to him.

This was completely insane. Straight soldiers from the same platoon standing shoulder to shoulder jerking off in the middle of the night like it was just another way to handle the stress. Yet no one questioned it. No one laughed or joked. It was silent and serious. Just a shared release. Shared need. I stroked faster feeling the eyes of the circle occasionally flick toward me and Ryder. Alistair smirked as he watched us, his fist moving quicker. Julian kept his head down but I caught him glancing our way more than once.

The room grew hotter. Steam and sweat mixed until the air felt thick enough to taste. Heavy breathing filled the space. Someone let out a low grunt as he got close. Another guy’s thighs started to shake. Cocks were rock hard all around us, heads swollen and leaking. I could hear the wet slick sounds getting louder as everyone picked up speed. My own cock throbbed painfully in my fist. Pre-cum ran down my shaft making my strokes smooth and noisy.

Ryder’s shoulder brushed mine again. Our strokes had fallen into the same rhythm without either of us trying. I could hear his breathing getting rougher beside me. My own cock pulsed hard every time I glanced at his thick length sliding through his fist. The strange intimacy of it all made my head spin. All these strong masculine bodies chasing the same release together. No talking. No judgment. Just pure need.

In the middle of it, Ryder stepped half a step closer. His bare arm pressed against mine. He leaned in until his mouth was right next to my ear and whispered, “Wanna get the fuck out of here?”

I nodded immediately. We were both rock hard and leaking badly but neither of us could finish in this crowded circle. It felt too exposed. Too strange with everyone watching. We quietly stepped back from the circle, pulled our underwear back on over our throbbing erections, and slipped out of the shower room while the others kept going. Behind us a couple of guys groaned low as they finally came, shooting thick ropes onto the wet tile floor. The sounds followed us into the corridor.

The dark hallway felt cooler on our heated skin. We stood there breathing hard, both of us still painfully hard, our cocks tenting our underwear obscenely.

“Fuck dude,” Ryder whispered, his hand rubbing over the massive bulge in his boxers. “I was rock hard in there but I couldn’t bust a nut. It felt weird as fuck with everyone watching.”

I nodded, my own hand moving down to stroke myself gently over the fabric. “Same. I could feel the cum leaking out the tip but it just would not come. Too many naked dudes around. It felt off.”

We both laughed quietly, the sound nervous and giddy at the same time. We kept rubbing ourselves right there in the corridor, stroking over our underwear, unable to stop. Ryder’s briefs had a growing wet spot at the front where he was leaking badly.

“Bro you are leaking like crazy,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the dark patch spreading across his fabric.

Ryder looked down at my own tent and grinned. “Talk about yours, camp wife. You are making a whole fucking mess down there too.”

The tension between us crackled hotter than ever. We were both breathing heavy, hands still moving slowly on ourselves, cocks aching for more.

Ryder stepped closer until our chests almost touched. His voice dropped low and rough, the way it did when he was trying to sound casual but failing. “There is that small supply storeroom down the hall. No one goes in there at night. We can finish in silence there… away from all the guys.”

I nodded without hesitation. My heart pounded as we moved quickly and quietly down the corridor. Ryder pushed open the door to the Supply Storeroom, a small locked equipment room filled with shelves of extra gear, boots, and training supplies. The space was tight and dark, barely big enough for both of us. We slipped inside and closed the door behind us. The click of the latch sounded loud in the silence.

My mind was spinning. The images from the ritual, all those hard naked bodies, Ryder stroking next to me, the way his eyes had stayed on mine the entire time. I was rock hard and leaking again just thinking about it. Whatever happened next in this small dark room, I knew things between us were never going to be the same.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Camp Blackridge kept pushing us harder every single day. Morning PT had become brutal under the rising sun. Sergeant Ashford was still singling me out more than anyone else. During one session he made me run extra laps with a weighted vest while the rest of the platoon watched. When I finally finished, he stepped close and spoke in that low British accent only I could hear.

"You need more private work, Rhodes. Your body still fights itself. We will fix that soon."

The words sent a strange shiver down my spine. He didn't explain what he meant but the promise in his voice lingered long after he walked away.

Ryder - my bunkmate on the other hand had become even more obvious with his teasing in front of everyone. During lunch he would slide extra food onto my tray and say loud enough for the table to hear, "Eat up baby girl. You need your strength for me later." Or during water breaks he would throw an arm around my shoulders and grin, "My camp wife is looking tired today. Come here let me carry your pack for a bit." The other recruits laughed but some of them started giving us knowing looks. I'd always shove him away and tell him to fuck off but I couldn't hide the smile or the warmth that spread through my chest every time.

Alistair kept throwing jealous jabs whenever he could. "Still playing house with your boyfriend Rhodes?" he would mutter loud enough for people nearby to hear.

Julian had noticed everything. One evening during gear cleaning he pulled me aside and spoke quietly. "You and Ryder seem really close lately," he said with a small smile. "Everything okay? You look like you are carrying a lot."

I shrugged trying to play it cool. "Yeah we are just bros. Helps with the stress I guess."

Julian nodded but his eyes suggested he didn't fully believe me. "Just be careful Callum. This place has a way of making things complicated."

I kept thinking about his words. I was confused but addicted. Sergeant gave me that dangerous burning feeling every time he stood behind me or corrected my form. Ryder gave me warmth and safety that I had never known before. Both of them were pulling me in different directions and I didn’t know how much longer I could balance it.

That night after lights out, Ryder had pulled me up to the top bunk with him. "Come on. Better view from up here," he had said with a grin. We were both in just our boxers lying side by side in the narrow space. His big body took up most of the bunk. Our legs were tangled and his arm rested heavy across my waist. We had been talking quietly about nothing important when I noticed movement below.

One by one guys were slipping out of their bunks. They moved silently toward the door leading to the showers. First two. Then three more. Then another pair. No one spoke. They just disappeared into the darkness.

"What the fuck is happening?" I whispered.

Ryder shifted beside me. He looked down at the floor then back at me. "Dude you don’t know about the ritual? It’s the night."

I turned my head to face him. "What are you talking about?"

Ryder sat up a little keeping his voice low. "Did you not hear the older recruits talking about it last week? One of the guys who is here for his third time told everyone. Every platoon does this once a month. Secret stress relief thing. No one talks about it after."

I stared at him confused. More guys were leaving their bunks now moving like shadows.

Ryder swung his legs over the side of the bunk and jumped down quietly. He looked up at me and offered his hand. "Come on. Let’s go."

I hesitated for a second but took his hand and climbed down. We both stood there in our boxers. My heart was beating fast. "Ryder what is this exactly?"

He shushed me gently, putting a finger to his lips. "Sergeants cannot catch us. Just follow me and stay quiet."

We moved carefully through the dark common room following the last few guys. The corridor felt longer than usual. My bare feet were cold on the floor. Ryder stayed close beside me, his shoulder brushing mine every few steps. We reached the entrance to the communal shower area. Low voices and the sound of running water drifted out.

Ryder glanced at me one last time. His eyes were dark with excitement and nerves.

We stepped inside the communal shower area and the sight stopped me cold. 18-20 guys stood crammed together in a loose circle under the dim safety lights. Every single one of them was completely naked. Steam hung thick in the air from the few showerheads left running low. The room smelled heavy with sweat, soap, and raw male musk. No one spoke. The only sounds were the wet rhythmic slap of fists on cocks and the low heavy breathing of stressed out recruits trying to get off.

I recognized faces immediately. Julian stood on the far side looking nervous as hell, his slim toned body flushed pink, hand moving steadily up and down his hard length. Alistair was closer to the center smirking even while he stroked himself, his lean wiry frame tense and his cock thick in his fist. Ramirez was there too… breathing heavy, his chubby belly jiggling slightly with every stroke. A few other recruits I knew by sight only stood around the circle, all of them rock hard, all of them focused on their own pleasure and the naked bodies surrounding them.

No one touched anyone else. It was just a circle of straight guys jerking off together in silence like it was the most normal way to blow off steam after a brutal week. The raw energy in the room was insane. Broad shoulders glistening with sweat. Defined chests rising and falling fast. Powerful thighs spread slightly for balance. Cocks of every shape and size being pumped openly under the low light. The wet sounds echoed off the tiles making everything feel even more intense.

Ryder and I were gently pulled into the open spot in the circle by the natural flow of bodies. No one said a word. We found space right next to each other. I pushed my boxers down and stepped out of them. My cock sprang free already fully hard and leaking at the tip. Ryder did the same beside me. His thick cock bounced out heavy and flushed, the head shiny with pre-cum.

I wrapped my hand around myself and started stroking. The feeling of being surrounded by so many naked fit guys was overwhelming. I looked at the way sweat ran down someone’s abs, at the way another guy’s balls tightened as he got closer, at the flex of forearms and the clench of jaws. But my eyes kept drifting back to Ryder and his 7” hard cock. The way his muscular arm flexed with every stroke. The way his abs tightened. The thick vein running along the top of his cock as he worked it. I tried to focus on the others but it was useless. My gaze kept returning to him.

This was completely insane. Straight soldiers from the same platoon standing shoulder to shoulder jerking off in the middle of the night like it was just another way to handle the stress. Yet no one questioned it. No one laughed or joked. It was silent and serious. Just a shared release. Shared need. I stroked faster feeling the eyes of the circle occasionally flick toward me and Ryder. Alistair smirked as he watched us, his fist moving quicker. Julian kept his head down but I caught him glancing our way more than once.

The room grew hotter. Steam and sweat mixed until the air felt thick enough to taste. Heavy breathing filled the space. Someone let out a low grunt as he got close. Another guy’s thighs started to shake. Cocks were rock hard all around us, heads swollen and leaking. I could hear the wet slick sounds getting louder as everyone picked up speed. My own cock throbbed painfully in my fist. Pre-cum ran down my shaft making my strokes smooth and noisy.

Ryder’s shoulder brushed mine again. Our strokes had fallen into the same rhythm without either of us trying. I could hear his breathing getting rougher beside me. My own cock pulsed hard every time I glanced at his thick length sliding through his fist. The strange intimacy of it all made my head spin. All these strong masculine bodies chasing the same release together. No talking. No judgment. Just pure need.

In the middle of it, Ryder stepped half a step closer. His bare arm pressed against mine. He leaned in until his mouth was right next to my ear and whispered, “Wanna get the fuck out of here?”

I nodded immediately. We were both rock hard and leaking badly but neither of us could finish in this crowded circle. It felt too exposed. Too strange with everyone watching. We quietly stepped back from the circle, pulled our underwear back on over our throbbing erections, and slipped out of the shower room while the others kept going. Behind us a couple of guys groaned low as they finally came, shooting thick ropes onto the wet tile floor. The sounds followed us into the corridor.

The dark hallway felt cooler on our heated skin. We stood there breathing hard, both of us still painfully hard, our cocks tenting our underwear obscenely.

“Fuck dude,” Ryder whispered, his hand rubbing over the massive bulge in his boxers. “I was rock hard in there but I couldn’t bust a nut. It felt weird as fuck with everyone watching.”

I nodded, my own hand moving down to stroke myself gently over the fabric. “Same. I could feel the cum leaking out the tip but it just would not come. Too many naked dudes around. It felt off.”

We both laughed quietly, the sound nervous and giddy at the same time. We kept rubbing ourselves right there in the corridor, stroking over our underwear, unable to stop. Ryder’s briefs had a growing wet spot at the front where he was leaking badly.

“Bro you are leaking like crazy,” I whispered, eyes fixed on the dark patch spreading across his fabric.

Ryder looked down at my own tent and grinned. “Talk about yours, camp wife. You are making a whole fucking mess down there too.”

The tension between us crackled hotter than ever. We were both breathing heavy, hands still moving slowly on ourselves, cocks aching for more.

Ryder stepped closer until our chests almost touched. His voice dropped low and rough, the way it did when he was trying to sound casual but failing. “There is that small supply storeroom down the hall. No one goes in there at night. We can finish in silence there… away from all the guys.”

I nodded without hesitation. My heart pounded as we moved quickly and quietly down the corridor. Ryder pushed open the door to the Supply Storeroom, a small locked equipment room filled with shelves of extra gear, boots, and training supplies. The space was tight and dark, barely big enough for both of us. We slipped inside and closed the door behind us. The click of the latch sounded loud in the silence.

My mind was spinning. The images from the ritual, all those hard naked bodies, Ryder stroking next to me, the way his eyes had stayed on mine the entire time. I was rock hard and leaking again just thinking about it. Whatever happened next in this small dark room, I knew things between us were never going to be the same.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled up to the cabin and killed the engine. Uncle Will had promised me the place would be empty all weekend. Just me the lake and whatever peace I could scrape together after Marcus walked out two weeks ago. I sat there for a second staring at the small wooden porch and the quiet water beyond it. This was supposed to be our anniversary trip. Two months ago I had asked Uncle Will if I could borrow the cabin for a surprise. He had laughed that gruff laugh of his and said ‘hell yes kid its yours’. I had pictured Marcus and me tangled up in the one bed listening to the loons at night. Now it was just me and a duffel bag full of clothes I almost did not bring because every shirt still smelled like the life I thought we were building.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the warm afternoon air. The place looked exactly like I remembered. Tiny weathered cabin with the screen door that always stuck a little. A narrow dock stretching out over the lake. Trees crowding close enough to make the world feel small and safe. I was already tasting the quiet I needed when another truck rumbled up the dirt road and stopped right beside mine.

A big black pickup with Marine stickers on the back window. The driver door swung open and out stepped the largest guy I had ever seen in real life. Six four easy. Shoulders that stretched the fabric of his plain gray tee until the seams looked ready to give up. Short dark hair still cut military tight. Jaw like it had been carved from stone. He stretched his arms overhead and the shirt rode up revealing a strip of tanned abs so defined they cast their own shadows.

He spotted me and flashed an easy grin that made something low in my stomach tighten without permission.

“Hey man. You Ethan?”

I nodded too stunned to do anything else.

“William said you might show. Name is Colt Harlan. His buddy from the VFW is my dad. Guess we both got the same weekend offer.”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“No big deal bro. We’ll figure it out.”

I tried to smile but my brain was still catching up. Colt reached into the bed of his truck and hauled out a massive duffel like it weighed nothing. Then without another word he stripped his shirt off right there in the driveway and tucked it into his back pocket. The motion made every muscle in his chest and arms flex and I could not stop my eyes from tracing the deep lines between his pecs or the way sweat already glistened along the ridge of his collarbone.

He caught me looking but only shrugged.

“Drive was long. Figured I would air out a little. You mind?”

I shook my head because what the hell was I supposed to say. No please keep your clothes on while I try not to lose my mind over how your body looks like it was built for every dirty thought I have ever had.

We walked inside together. The cabin smelled like pine and lake water just like always. One main room with a tiny kitchenette, a beat up couch that looked even smaller than I remembered and the single bedroom door standing open. Colt dropped his bag on the floor and went straight for the bedroom. I followed because my feet moved before my brain could stop them.

He stopped in the doorway and let out a low whistle.

“Well shit. Only one bed.”

I stared at the queen mattress Uncle Will had probably never replaced since the nineties. It was not huge but it was big enough for one person to spread out. Two grown men were going to be another story entirely. Especially when one of those men looked like he took up space just by breathing.

Colt rubbed the back of his neck and the motion made his bicep swell into a hard round peak.

“No big deal. We are both dudes. We will figure it out. Couch is right there if one of us needs it though it looks like a kid sized piece of shit.”

He laughed again… that deep rumble that seemed to vibrate straight through my ribs. Then he kicked off his boots and peeled his socks away. His feet were big and wide like the rest of him. He did not stop there. His hands went to the button of his jeans and he shoved them down his thick thighs in one smooth motion leaving him in nothing but a pair of white trunks that clung to every curve and bulge like they had been painted on.

The fabric stretched tight across the heavy weight between his legs and I felt heat flood my face. I looked away fast but not before I noticed the way the waistband rode low on his hips revealing the sharp V lines that pointed straight down. His thighs were tree trunks solid and dusted with dark hair. Calves like carved stone. Every inch of him screamed raw power and complete unselfconscious ease.

He tossed his jeans onto the chair in the corner and stretched again arms overhead back arching so the front of those briefs pulled even tighter.

“Man that feels better. Long drive in jeans sucks. You want the left side or right?”

I swallowed hard. My own bag felt heavy in my hand like an anchor keeping me from floating away on pure panic and want.

“Uh. Either is fine.”

Colt nodded like that settled everything. He grabbed his duffel and started unpacking right there on the bed tossing folded shirts and shorts across the mattress without a care. A pair of swim trunks landed near my hand and I could not help imagining how they would look plastered to his body after a dip in the lake.

I set my own bag down on the far side of the room and tried to focus on anything except the way his back muscles shifted when he bent over. The room felt smaller already. The single window let in late afternoon light that painted gold across his shoulders and I realized I was staring again.

Colt straightened and turned toward me. His eyes were a clear steady blue and they held mine without any hesitation.

“You good bro? You look like you just swallowed a frog.”

I forced a laugh.

“Yeah. Just. Didn’t expect company. Breakup stuff. Long story.”

He tilted his head a little and the movement made a vein stand out along the side of his thick neck.

“Sorry to hear that man. Exes can be rough. But hey at least you got the lake and some fresh air. “

He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder and the contact sent a spark straight down my spine. His palm was warm and calloused and it lingered a second longer than it needed to before he pulled away.

“Tell you what. I am going to hit the lake for a quick swim before the sun drops. You unpack. Then we can figure out dinner and sleeping arrangements. Sound good?”

I nodded because words were not happening right now. Colt grinned again and walked out of the bedroom still in nothing but those white trunks. I watched the broad line of his back and the way his ass flexed with every step until he disappeared onto the porch.

The screen door slammed behind him. I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding and sank down onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight and I could already smell the faint clean scent of him on the sheets from where he had tossed his clothes.

This was supposed to be quiet. Peaceful. A place to forget Marcus and the way he had looked at me when he said it was over. Instead I had a six foot four Marine built like a god walking around half naked calling me bro and acting like sharing a bed with him was no big deal.

My pulse would not slow down. I pressed my palms to my eyes and tried to breathe.

Outside I heard the splash as Colt hit the water. I told myself I would not look. I lasted about ten seconds before I got up and went to the window.

He was already out past the dock, powerful arms cutting through the lake in clean strong strokes. Water streamed off his shoulders when he turned and the low sun caught every ridge of muscle making him look carved from bronze. He shook his head like a dog sending droplets flying and even from here I could see the wide grin on his face.

He looked happy. Free. Completely at home in his body in this place… in the moment.

I watched until he started swimming back toward the dock. Then I made myself turn away before he climbed out.

Because if I saw him in that water dripping wet with nothing but those trunks clinging to every inch of him, I was not sure I could keep pretending this weekend was going to stay simple.

I went back to unpacking trying to shove the image of Colt out of my head. Those abs carved so deep you could lose a finger in them. Fuck. Is this God's twisted little joke after Marcus dumped me. Sending a walking wet dream of a Marine built like every filthy fantasy I have jerked off to. A straight one of course because why make it easy. I laughed under my breath folding shirts into the tiny wardrobe imagining those massive thighs pinning me down while he called me ‘bro’ in that deep rumble. Men like him are probably straighter than the dock out there. I would be lucky if he even remembers my name after one night of sharing a bed and breathing the same air.

Still the heat in my gut wouldn't settle. This weekend had just gotten a whole lot more dangerous than I planned.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The gravel crunched under my tires as I pulled up to the cabin and killed the engine. Uncle Will had promised me the place would be empty all weekend. Just me the lake and whatever peace I could scrape together after Marcus walked out two weeks ago. I sat there for a second staring at the small wooden porch and the quiet water beyond it. This was supposed to be our anniversary trip. Two months ago I had asked Uncle Will if I could borrow the cabin for a surprise. He had laughed that gruff laugh of his and said ‘hell yes kid its yours’. I had pictured Marcus and me tangled up in the one bed listening to the loons at night. Now it was just me and a duffel bag full of clothes I almost did not bring because every shirt still smelled like the life I thought we were building.

I grabbed my bag and stepped out into the warm afternoon air. The place looked exactly like I remembered. Tiny weathered cabin with the screen door that always stuck a little. A narrow dock stretching out over the lake. Trees crowding close enough to make the world feel small and safe. I was already tasting the quiet I needed when another truck rumbled up the dirt road and stopped right beside mine.

A big black pickup with Marine stickers on the back window. The driver door swung open and out stepped the largest guy I had ever seen in real life. Six four easy. Shoulders that stretched the fabric of his plain gray tee until the seams looked ready to give up. Short dark hair still cut military tight. Jaw like it had been carved from stone. He stretched his arms overhead and the shirt rode up revealing a strip of tanned abs so defined they cast their own shadows.

He spotted me and flashed an easy grin that made something low in my stomach tighten without permission.

“Hey man. You Ethan?”

I nodded too stunned to do anything else.

“William said you might show. Name is Colt Harlan. His buddy from the VFW is my dad. Guess we both got the same weekend offer.”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“No big deal bro. We’ll figure it out.”

I tried to smile but my brain was still catching up. Colt reached into the bed of his truck and hauled out a massive duffel like it weighed nothing. Then without another word he stripped his shirt off right there in the driveway and tucked it into his back pocket. The motion made every muscle in his chest and arms flex and I could not stop my eyes from tracing the deep lines between his pecs or the way sweat already glistened along the ridge of his collarbone.

He caught me looking but only shrugged.

“Drive was long. Figured I would air out a little. You mind?”

I shook my head because what the hell was I supposed to say. No please keep your clothes on while I try not to lose my mind over how your body looks like it was built for every dirty thought I have ever had.

We walked inside together. The cabin smelled like pine and lake water just like always. One main room with a tiny kitchenette, a beat up couch that looked even smaller than I remembered and the single bedroom door standing open. Colt dropped his bag on the floor and went straight for the bedroom. I followed because my feet moved before my brain could stop them.

He stopped in the doorway and let out a low whistle.

“Well shit. Only one bed.”

I stared at the queen mattress Uncle Will had probably never replaced since the nineties. It was not huge but it was big enough for one person to spread out. Two grown men were going to be another story entirely. Especially when one of those men looked like he took up space just by breathing.

Colt rubbed the back of his neck and the motion made his bicep swell into a hard round peak.

“No big deal. We are both dudes. We will figure it out. Couch is right there if one of us needs it though it looks like a kid sized piece of shit.”

He laughed again… that deep rumble that seemed to vibrate straight through my ribs. Then he kicked off his boots and peeled his socks away. His feet were big and wide like the rest of him. He did not stop there. His hands went to the button of his jeans and he shoved them down his thick thighs in one smooth motion leaving him in nothing but a pair of white trunks that clung to every curve and bulge like they had been painted on.

The fabric stretched tight across the heavy weight between his legs and I felt heat flood my face. I looked away fast but not before I noticed the way the waistband rode low on his hips revealing the sharp V lines that pointed straight down. His thighs were tree trunks solid and dusted with dark hair. Calves like carved stone. Every inch of him screamed raw power and complete unselfconscious ease.

He tossed his jeans onto the chair in the corner and stretched again arms overhead back arching so the front of those briefs pulled even tighter.

“Man that feels better. Long drive in jeans sucks. You want the left side or right?”

I swallowed hard. My own bag felt heavy in my hand like an anchor keeping me from floating away on pure panic and want.

“Uh. Either is fine.”

Colt nodded like that settled everything. He grabbed his duffel and started unpacking right there on the bed tossing folded shirts and shorts across the mattress without a care. A pair of swim trunks landed near my hand and I could not help imagining how they would look plastered to his body after a dip in the lake.

I set my own bag down on the far side of the room and tried to focus on anything except the way his back muscles shifted when he bent over. The room felt smaller already. The single window let in late afternoon light that painted gold across his shoulders and I realized I was staring again.

Colt straightened and turned toward me. His eyes were a clear steady blue and they held mine without any hesitation.

“You good bro? You look like you just swallowed a frog.”

I forced a laugh.

“Yeah. Just. Didn’t expect company. Breakup stuff. Long story.”

He tilted his head a little and the movement made a vein stand out along the side of his thick neck.

“Sorry to hear that man. Exes can be rough. But hey at least you got the lake and some fresh air. “

He clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder and the contact sent a spark straight down my spine. His palm was warm and calloused and it lingered a second longer than it needed to before he pulled away.

“Tell you what. I am going to hit the lake for a quick swim before the sun drops. You unpack. Then we can figure out dinner and sleeping arrangements. Sound good?”

I nodded because words were not happening right now. Colt grinned again and walked out of the bedroom still in nothing but those white trunks. I watched the broad line of his back and the way his ass flexed with every step until he disappeared onto the porch.

The screen door slammed behind him. I let out a breath I had not realized I was holding and sank down onto the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under my weight and I could already smell the faint clean scent of him on the sheets from where he had tossed his clothes.

This was supposed to be quiet. Peaceful. A place to forget Marcus and the way he had looked at me when he said it was over. Instead I had a six foot four Marine built like a god walking around half naked calling me bro and acting like sharing a bed with him was no big deal.

My pulse would not slow down. I pressed my palms to my eyes and tried to breathe.

Outside I heard the splash as Colt hit the water. I told myself I would not look. I lasted about ten seconds before I got up and went to the window.

He was already out past the dock, powerful arms cutting through the lake in clean strong strokes. Water streamed off his shoulders when he turned and the low sun caught every ridge of muscle making him look carved from bronze. He shook his head like a dog sending droplets flying and even from here I could see the wide grin on his face.

He looked happy. Free. Completely at home in his body in this place… in the moment.

I watched until he started swimming back toward the dock. Then I made myself turn away before he climbed out.

Because if I saw him in that water dripping wet with nothing but those trunks clinging to every inch of him, I was not sure I could keep pretending this weekend was going to stay simple.

I went back to unpacking trying to shove the image of Colt out of my head. Those abs carved so deep you could lose a finger in them. Fuck. Is this God's twisted little joke after Marcus dumped me. Sending a walking wet dream of a Marine built like every filthy fantasy I have jerked off to. A straight one of course because why make it easy. I laughed under my breath folding shirts into the tiny wardrobe imagining those massive thighs pinning me down while he called me ‘bro’ in that deep rumble. Men like him are probably straighter than the dock out there. I would be lucky if he even remembers my name after one night of sharing a bed and breathing the same air.

Still the heat in my gut wouldn't settle. This weekend had just gotten a whole lot more dangerous than I planned.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The contact with Sergeant Ashford had made me hard and horny.

I slipped back into the common room as quietly as I could. The whole barracks was dark and silent. Everyone was asleep. Soft snoring came from different bunks. I stood near the door for a moment, trying to calm myself, but it was useless. My cock was still rock hard and throbbing inside my shorts. Every step I had taken back from the training field had made it rub against the fabric and now the ache was almost unbearable.

I climbed onto my bottom bunk and lay there staring at the metal frame above me. Ryder was quiet in the top bunk. I could hear his steady breathing. Part of me wanted to wake him up and tell him everything that happened with Ashford. Another part was terrified of what he would think. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it. I told myself to just breathe and wait for it to go away. But the images kept flashing behind my eyelids. Seargent Ashford’s thick chest pressed against my back. The heavy grind of his hips. The way his bulge had felt so solid against mine when he held me down longer than necessary. My cock twitched hard and leaked a little.

I gave up.

I couldn't lie here like this all night. Quietly I slipped out of bed again and made my way toward the communal shower area at the far end of the barracks. The tiles were cool under my bare feet. The room was completely empty and dark except for a faint safety light near the entrance. I moved to the far corner where the shadows were deepest and leaned against the wall for a second trying to steady my breathing.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pushed them down along with my underwear. They pooled around my ankles. My cock sprang free thick and heavy. It stood straight out from my body already leaking at the tip. The head was flushed dark and shiny. Veins ran along the shaft pulsing with every heartbeat. I wrapped my right hand around it and gave one slow stroke from base to tip. A low breath escaped me. My left hand rested flat against the cool tile wall for balance.

I started stroking slowly at first. My hand moved up and down the full length while my mind went straight back to the training mat. I remembered how Ashford’s muscular body had pinned me down. The roll of his powerful hips grinding against my ass. The way his bulge had pressed so firmly against me when he held the final pin. Fuck. Am I fucking gay? This is turning me on so much. The thought should have scared me but instead it made my cock throb harder in my fist.

I tightened my grip and stroked a little faster. My hips rocked forward into my hand. The wet sound of skin on skin was quiet but it filled the empty shower room. I pictured Ashford’s low growl in my ear telling me to ‘submit to the hold’ in his sexy British accent. I remembered how our bulges had rubbed together when he was on top of me. The heavy pressure. The heat. Shit. Is Sergeant Ashford giving me all this special attention because he has a thing for me? Or am I just imagining it? He literally dismissed me because I was compromised. He felt how hard I was. He knew I was rock hard from all the proximity.

The realization hit me again and made my knees weak. This feeling was new to me. I had never gotten this worked up with my ex. Never felt this kind of raw heat. Now I could not stop thinking about Sergeant Ashford. Those thick forearms. That commanding British voice. The way his massive frame had completely controlled mine.

I leaned my forehead against the cool tile and stroked faster. My hand flew up and down my cock. Pre-cum made everything wet and noisy. I was rock hard. My balls drew up tight. I bit my lip hard trying to hold down the moans that wanted to escape. My breathing came in short ragged gasps. One hand stayed pressed against the wall while the other worked my cock with long twisting strokes. The head swelled even more with every pass.

Just as the pleasure started to build toward the edge I heard footsteps behind me.

"Rhodes, is that you?"

I froze mid-stroke. My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly I turned my head.

It was Ryder.

He stood shirtless at the entrance of the shower area still in his boxers. His messy brown hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes were wide with surprise. For a second he just stared at me. Then a grin broke across his face.

"Yo bro, what the fuck?"

Ryder walked closer, his bare feet quiet on the wet tile. I quickly tried to pull my shorts and underwear back up but my hands were shaking. My cock was still rock hard, curving upward and leaking. I managed to get the waistband over my hips but the front tented obviously. The thin fabric did nothing to hide how turned on I still was. I was standing there half-naked in front of my bunkmate while thoughts of Sergeant Ashford mixed with the sight of Ryder’s shirtless body walking toward me in nothing but boxers.

Fuck. Why am I turned on looking at Ryder? We are literally just friends. All the pussy stories he tells every day. I am pretty sure he is straight as an arrow. What’s happening to me? Am I slowly realising that……

"Dude, fuck… Sorry," I laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. My voice sounded shaky even to me.

Ryder stopped right next to me under the faint safety light. His broad chest and defined abs were on full display. A light sheen of sweat still clung to his skin from the warm night. He looked me up and down slowly, his eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in my shorts before coming back up to my face.

"I was wondering where you were all night," he said, voice low and amused. "Could not sleep either, huh?"

He laughed softly and glanced down at my bulge again. "And now I know why."

I felt my face burn. I shifted on my feet trying to angle my body away but there was no hiding it. "Yeah fuck man… All your sorority girls stories today had me all rock hard."

Ryder looked surprised for a moment. His eyebrows raised and his easy grin faltered. Then something shifted in his expression. His hand moved down and casually adjusted himself through his boxers. He looked at my bulge once more, then back up at my face, eyes darker than usual.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice dropping quieter. "So why’d you stop stroking then?"

I blinked, surprised. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. "What do you mean? You just walked in."

Ryder’s hand moved slowly over the front of his boxers, rubbing the growing bulge underneath. His eyes stayed locked on mine, that easy grin still playing on his lips but now mixed with something darker and more curious. "So…? You don’t gotta stop on my account."

I let out a nervous laugh, the sound shaky in the quiet shower room. "Fuck bro, that’s… that’s a bit weird."

Ryder didn't answer right away. Instead his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He pushed them down slowly, letting the fabric slide over his hips. His cock came into view, semi-hard and heavy, about five and a half inches long. It hung thick between his muscular thighs, the skin smooth and mostly clean with just a light dusting of dark pubes at the base. It twitched once as the cool air hit it, already starting to thicken further.

My eyes immediately dropped to it. I couldn't help myself.

"It’s only weird if you make it weird, bro," Ryder said, his voice low and casual, like we were just talking about protein shakes instead of standing naked in the showers together.

I swallowed hard. My gaze traveled up his naked body — the wide shoulders, the thick chest still shiny from the warm night, the defined abs that led down to that dusting of hair. My own cock twitched visibly in response, straining harder against the front of my shorts.

Ryder noticed. His eyes flicked down to my obvious bulge, then back up to my face.

"You clearly aren’t finished yet," he added, nodding toward my tented shorts.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The contact with Sergeant Ashford had made me hard and horny.

I slipped back into the common room as quietly as I could. The whole barracks was dark and silent. Everyone was asleep. Soft snoring came from different bunks. I stood near the door for a moment, trying to calm myself, but it was useless. My cock was still rock hard and throbbing inside my shorts. Every step I had taken back from the training field had made it rub against the fabric and now the ache was almost unbearable.

I climbed onto my bottom bunk and lay there staring at the metal frame above me. Ryder was quiet in the top bunk. I could hear his steady breathing. Part of me wanted to wake him up and tell him everything that happened with Ashford. Another part was terrified of what he would think. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it. I told myself to just breathe and wait for it to go away. But the images kept flashing behind my eyelids. Seargent Ashford’s thick chest pressed against my back. The heavy grind of his hips. The way his bulge had felt so solid against mine when he held me down longer than necessary. My cock twitched hard and leaked a little.

I gave up.

I couldn't lie here like this all night. Quietly I slipped out of bed again and made my way toward the communal shower area at the far end of the barracks. The tiles were cool under my bare feet. The room was completely empty and dark except for a faint safety light near the entrance. I moved to the far corner where the shadows were deepest and leaned against the wall for a second trying to steady my breathing.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pushed them down along with my underwear. They pooled around my ankles. My cock sprang free thick and heavy. It stood straight out from my body already leaking at the tip. The head was flushed dark and shiny. Veins ran along the shaft pulsing with every heartbeat. I wrapped my right hand around it and gave one slow stroke from base to tip. A low breath escaped me. My left hand rested flat against the cool tile wall for balance.

I started stroking slowly at first. My hand moved up and down the full length while my mind went straight back to the training mat. I remembered how Ashford’s muscular body had pinned me down. The roll of his powerful hips grinding against my ass. The way his bulge had pressed so firmly against me when he held the final pin. Fuck. Am I fucking gay? This is turning me on so much. The thought should have scared me but instead it made my cock throb harder in my fist.

I tightened my grip and stroked a little faster. My hips rocked forward into my hand. The wet sound of skin on skin was quiet but it filled the empty shower room. I pictured Ashford’s low growl in my ear telling me to ‘submit to the hold’ in his sexy British accent. I remembered how our bulges had rubbed together when he was on top of me. The heavy pressure. The heat. Shit. Is Sergeant Ashford giving me all this special attention because he has a thing for me? Or am I just imagining it? He literally dismissed me because I was compromised. He felt how hard I was. He knew I was rock hard from all the proximity.

The realization hit me again and made my knees weak. This feeling was new to me. I had never gotten this worked up with my ex. Never felt this kind of raw heat. Now I could not stop thinking about Sergeant Ashford. Those thick forearms. That commanding British voice. The way his massive frame had completely controlled mine.

I leaned my forehead against the cool tile and stroked faster. My hand flew up and down my cock. Pre-cum made everything wet and noisy. I was rock hard. My balls drew up tight. I bit my lip hard trying to hold down the moans that wanted to escape. My breathing came in short ragged gasps. One hand stayed pressed against the wall while the other worked my cock with long twisting strokes. The head swelled even more with every pass.

Just as the pleasure started to build toward the edge I heard footsteps behind me.

"Rhodes, is that you?"

I froze mid-stroke. My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly I turned my head.

It was Ryder.

He stood shirtless at the entrance of the shower area still in his boxers. His messy brown hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes were wide with surprise. For a second he just stared at me. Then a grin broke across his face.

"Yo bro, what the fuck?"

Ryder walked closer, his bare feet quiet on the wet tile. I quickly tried to pull my shorts and underwear back up but my hands were shaking. My cock was still rock hard, curving upward and leaking. I managed to get the waistband over my hips but the front tented obviously. The thin fabric did nothing to hide how turned on I still was. I was standing there half-naked in front of my bunkmate while thoughts of Sergeant Ashford mixed with the sight of Ryder’s shirtless body walking toward me in nothing but boxers.

Fuck. Why am I turned on looking at Ryder? We are literally just friends. All the pussy stories he tells every day. I am pretty sure he is straight as an arrow. What’s happening to me? Am I slowly realising that……

"Dude, fuck… Sorry," I laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. My voice sounded shaky even to me.

Ryder stopped right next to me under the faint safety light. His broad chest and defined abs were on full display. A light sheen of sweat still clung to his skin from the warm night. He looked me up and down slowly, his eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in my shorts before coming back up to my face.

"I was wondering where you were all night," he said, voice low and amused. "Could not sleep either, huh?"

He laughed softly and glanced down at my bulge again. "And now I know why."

I felt my face burn. I shifted on my feet trying to angle my body away but there was no hiding it. "Yeah fuck man… All your sorority girls stories today had me all rock hard."

Ryder looked surprised for a moment. His eyebrows raised and his easy grin faltered. Then something shifted in his expression. His hand moved down and casually adjusted himself through his boxers. He looked at my bulge once more, then back up at my face, eyes darker than usual.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice dropping quieter. "So why’d you stop stroking then?"

I blinked, surprised. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. "What do you mean? You just walked in."

Ryder’s hand moved slowly over the front of his boxers, rubbing the growing bulge underneath. His eyes stayed locked on mine, that easy grin still playing on his lips but now mixed with something darker and more curious. "So…? You don’t gotta stop on my account."

I let out a nervous laugh, the sound shaky in the quiet shower room. "Fuck bro, that’s… that’s a bit weird."

Ryder didn't answer right away. Instead his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He pushed them down slowly, letting the fabric slide over his hips. His cock came into view, semi-hard and heavy, about five and a half inches long. It hung thick between his muscular thighs, the skin smooth and mostly clean with just a light dusting of dark pubes at the base. It twitched once as the cool air hit it, already starting to thicken further.

My eyes immediately dropped to it. I couldn't help myself.

"It’s only weird if you make it weird, bro," Ryder said, his voice low and casual, like we were just talking about protein shakes instead of standing naked in the showers together.

I swallowed hard. My gaze traveled up his naked body — the wide shoulders, the thick chest still shiny from the warm night, the defined abs that led down to that dusting of hair. My own cock twitched visibly in response, straining harder against the front of my shorts.

Ryder noticed. His eyes flicked down to my obvious bulge, then back up to my face.

"You clearly aren’t finished yet," he added, nodding toward my tented shorts.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

The contact with Sergeant Ashford had made me hard and horny.

I slipped back into the common room as quietly as I could. The whole barracks was dark and silent. Everyone was asleep. Soft snoring came from different bunks. I stood near the door for a moment, trying to calm myself, but it was useless. My cock was still rock hard and throbbing inside my shorts. Every step I had taken back from the training field had made it rub against the fabric and now the ache was almost unbearable.

I climbed onto my bottom bunk and lay there staring at the metal frame above me. Ryder was quiet in the top bunk. I could hear his steady breathing. Part of me wanted to wake him up and tell him everything that happened with Ashford. Another part was terrified of what he would think. I closed my eyes and tried to fight it. I told myself to just breathe and wait for it to go away. But the images kept flashing behind my eyelids. Seargent Ashford’s thick chest pressed against my back. The heavy grind of his hips. The way his bulge had felt so solid against mine when he held me down longer than necessary. My cock twitched hard and leaked a little.

I gave up.

I couldn't lie here like this all night. Quietly I slipped out of bed again and made my way toward the communal shower area at the far end of the barracks. The tiles were cool under my bare feet. The room was completely empty and dark except for a faint safety light near the entrance. I moved to the far corner where the shadows were deepest and leaned against the wall for a second trying to steady my breathing.

I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and pushed them down along with my underwear. They pooled around my ankles. My cock sprang free thick and heavy. It stood straight out from my body already leaking at the tip. The head was flushed dark and shiny. Veins ran along the shaft pulsing with every heartbeat. I wrapped my right hand around it and gave one slow stroke from base to tip. A low breath escaped me. My left hand rested flat against the cool tile wall for balance.

I started stroking slowly at first. My hand moved up and down the full length while my mind went straight back to the training mat. I remembered how Ashford’s muscular body had pinned me down. The roll of his powerful hips grinding against my ass. The way his bulge had pressed so firmly against me when he held the final pin. Fuck. Am I fucking gay? This is turning me on so much. The thought should have scared me but instead it made my cock throb harder in my fist.

I tightened my grip and stroked a little faster. My hips rocked forward into my hand. The wet sound of skin on skin was quiet but it filled the empty shower room. I pictured Ashford’s low growl in my ear telling me to ‘submit to the hold’ in his sexy British accent. I remembered how our bulges had rubbed together when he was on top of me. The heavy pressure. The heat. Shit. Is Sergeant Ashford giving me all this special attention because he has a thing for me? Or am I just imagining it? He literally dismissed me because I was compromised. He felt how hard I was. He knew I was rock hard from all the proximity.

The realization hit me again and made my knees weak. This feeling was new to me. I had never gotten this worked up with my ex. Never felt this kind of raw heat. Now I could not stop thinking about Sergeant Ashford. Those thick forearms. That commanding British voice. The way his massive frame had completely controlled mine.

I leaned my forehead against the cool tile and stroked faster. My hand flew up and down my cock. Pre-cum made everything wet and noisy. I was rock hard. My balls drew up tight. I bit my lip hard trying to hold down the moans that wanted to escape. My breathing came in short ragged gasps. One hand stayed pressed against the wall while the other worked my cock with long twisting strokes. The head swelled even more with every pass.

Just as the pleasure started to build toward the edge I heard footsteps behind me.

"Rhodes, is that you?"

I froze mid-stroke. My heart slammed against my ribs. Slowly I turned my head.

It was Ryder.

He stood shirtless at the entrance of the shower area still in his boxers. His messy brown hair was tousled from sleep and his eyes were wide with surprise. For a second he just stared at me. Then a grin broke across his face.

"Yo bro, what the fuck?"

Ryder walked closer, his bare feet quiet on the wet tile. I quickly tried to pull my shorts and underwear back up but my hands were shaking. My cock was still rock hard, curving upward and leaking. I managed to get the waistband over my hips but the front tented obviously. The thin fabric did nothing to hide how turned on I still was. I was standing there half-naked in front of my bunkmate while thoughts of Sergeant Ashford mixed with the sight of Ryder’s shirtless body walking toward me in nothing but boxers.

Fuck. Why am I turned on looking at Ryder? We are literally just friends. All the pussy stories he tells every day. I am pretty sure he is straight as an arrow. What’s happening to me? Am I slowly realising that……

"Dude, fuck… Sorry," I laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. My voice sounded shaky even to me.

Ryder stopped right next to me under the faint safety light. His broad chest and defined abs were on full display. A light sheen of sweat still clung to his skin from the warm night. He looked me up and down slowly, his eyes dropping to the obvious bulge in my shorts before coming back up to my face.

"I was wondering where you were all night," he said, voice low and amused. "Could not sleep either, huh?"

He laughed softly and glanced down at my bulge again. "And now I know why."

I felt my face burn. I shifted on my feet trying to angle my body away but there was no hiding it. "Yeah fuck man… All your sorority girls stories today had me all rock hard."

Ryder looked surprised for a moment. His eyebrows raised and his easy grin faltered. Then something shifted in his expression. His hand moved down and casually adjusted himself through his boxers. He looked at my bulge once more, then back up at my face, eyes darker than usual.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice dropping quieter. "So why’d you stop stroking then?"

I blinked, surprised. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat. "What do you mean? You just walked in."

Ryder’s hand moved slowly over the front of his boxers, rubbing the growing bulge underneath. His eyes stayed locked on mine, that easy grin still playing on his lips but now mixed with something darker and more curious. "So…? You don’t gotta stop on my account."

I let out a nervous laugh, the sound shaky in the quiet shower room. "Fuck bro, that’s… that’s a bit weird."

Ryder didn't answer right away. Instead his fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He pushed them down slowly, letting the fabric slide over his hips. His cock came into view, semi-hard and heavy, about five and a half inches long. It hung thick between his muscular thighs, the skin smooth and mostly clean with just a light dusting of dark pubes at the base. It twitched once as the cool air hit it, already starting to thicken further.

My eyes immediately dropped to it. I couldn't help myself.

"It’s only weird if you make it weird, bro," Ryder said, his voice low and casual, like we were just talking about protein shakes instead of standing naked in the showers together.

I swallowed hard. My gaze traveled up his naked body — the wide shoulders, the thick chest still shiny from the warm night, the defined abs that led down to that dusting of hair. My own cock twitched visibly in response, straining harder against the front of my shorts.

Ryder noticed. His eyes flicked down to my obvious bulge, then back up to my face.

"You clearly aren’t finished yet," he added, nodding toward my tented shorts.

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older

Last night at Antonio’s beach house, the party finally died down. Everyone was crashing wherever they could. Antonio looked at Matteo and me, grinned, and told us the upstairs room was empty. "Be as loud as you want," he said. The usual teasing. The usual winks.

We went up. The bed was small. We ended up pressed together under the sheets, his arm around me, his chest against my back. Fake boyfriends and all. One shift led to another. Then the grinding started and Matteo got hard against me.

And before I could think better of it, I opened my mouth and offered to help him out.

"I can help you out, you know? If you want."

The room went quiet after that.

I waited for him to pull away. To laugh it off. To remind me this was all pretend. But he didn’t move. Matteo’s hand flexed against my stomach. Instead of pulling back, his hips gave one slow deliberate press forward, like he couldn’t help it. A shaky exhale ghosted over my neck.

I rolled over slowly, careful not to break the contact, until we were face to face in the faint moonlight slipping through the window. His eyes were wide and dark, pupils blown. A flush rode high on his cheeks. Curls messy against the pillow. Lips parted like he was still catching his breath. He looked wrecked already and I hadn’t even really touched him yet.

My heart was hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it. I swallowed, voice low.

"Well, you’re clearly hard as fuck and need a release."

Matteo let out a breathless laugh, the sound shaky and surprised. "Shit, fuck, man… are you serious?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my tone light even though my throat felt tight. "I mean… we’re boyfriends, aren’t we? That’s the least I can do."

He stared at me for a second, then huffed another laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. "But… isn’t it kinda weird?"

I shrugged, the movement brushing our chests together. "Jerking off your boyfriend is literally the least weird thing we can do tonight."

He laughed again, softer this time, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. He looked at me and something shifted in his expression. A small crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Fuck it. I’m so fucking horny."

Before I could process the words, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and trunks and pushed them down in one smooth motion. They slid over his hips, down his thighs, and his cock sprang free, slapping lightly against his abs.

Moonlight painted him in silver and shadow. Thick. Long. Easily eight inches. Straight and heavy, curving just slightly upward. The shaft was smooth and flushed deep, with a prominent vein running along the underside that pulsed visibly. The head was broad and already glistening, a bead of precum catching the light like a jewel. His balls hung full and heavy beneath, drawn up tight with need.

He kicked the shorts off completely and lay back against the pillow, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his abs. His cock stood proud against his stomach, twitching once as the cool air hit it.

I couldn’t breathe for a second.

"Can I?" I asked, voice rough.

He smiled, lazy and nervous all at once. "Might as well, babe."

I shifted closer, the mattress dipping under my weight. My hand trembled as I reached out, fingers brushing the inside of his thigh first. He inhaled sharply. Then I wrapped my hand around his cock slowly.

He was burning hot. My fingers barely met around his girth, and the second I made contact he throbbed hard in my grip, another bead of precum pushing out.

"Jesus," he breathed, hips lifting slightly into my touch.

He nodded fast, guiding my hand with his own for a second… tentative, like he was showing me the rhythm he liked. His fingers overlapped mine briefly, warm and a little shaky, pressing me into a slow firm pump from base to tip. Then he let go, resting his hand beside me on the sheet, knuckles brushing my thigh as if he needed the anchor.

I started slow. Long strokes from base to tip, twisting gently over the head on every upstroke. His cock swelled even harder in my hand, veins standing out under my fingers, pulsing with every heartbeat. Precum coated my palm, making the glide smoother and wetter. The head flushed darker under my thumb, sensitive and swollen, and I circled it lightly, spreading the bead across the slit until it glistened in the moonlight.

"Fuck, that feels good," he muttered, voice low and wrecked. "First time anyone’s touched me since Jessica."

I smiled, even though my own cock was aching painfully against my shorts. Internally I was a mess… rock hard, leaking, desperate… but I kept my focus on him. On the way his abs tensed with every stroke. The way his thighs flexed. The quiet gasps he tried to swallow.

He got louder the faster I went, hips starting to roll up into my fist. "Urgh, fuck… yes… grab my balls."

I didn’t hesitate. My free hand cupped him gently, rolling his heavy sac in my palm, feeling how tight and full they were. They were drawn up close to his body, the skin soft under my fingers. I massaged them slowly, tugging just enough to make him hiss through his teeth. His cock jumped in my other hand as if connected by a wire. He spread his legs a little wider, giving me better access, and I took it… kneading deeper, rolling them between my fingers while my grip on his shaft tightened, pumping steady and unhurried.

"Fuckkk, yeah… like that," he breathed, his voice cracking on the edge of a laugh, like he couldn’t believe he was saying it out loud. His hand on my shoulder squeezed harder, nails biting into my skin, and I could feel the tremor running through him. I kept the dual rhythm now. One hand cradling his balls, thumb pressing lightly into the sensitive spot behind them. The other sliding up and down his cock with increasing wetness. More precum welled up, thick and clear, and I swiped my thumb over the tip again, smearing it in slow circles around the ridge of the head. The soft wet sound mixed with his ragged breaths.

Matteo’s hips stuttered, bucking up into my fist as I twisted over the crown, spreading the precum down the shaft in long deliberate drags. His balls tightened further in my palm, heavy and pulsing, and I rolled them firmer. "Shit… Adrian, you’re doing so fucking good," he groaned, half laughing, half moaning, his free hand fisting the sheet like he needed something to hold onto. Sweat beaded on his chest, catching the moonlight, and his abs clenched visibly with every stroke. I slowed for a second, just to tease… long lazy pulls that let me trace every vein, feeling them throb hot against my skin… then picked up again, faster, my thumb flicking insistently over the slit to coax out another spill of precum. It dripped down, coating my fingers, making the glide impossibly smooth, and he let out a broken sound, low and needy, his thighs quivering on either side of me.

"Don’t stop," he whispered, voice breaking. His hand found my shoulder, clutching hard, fingers digging in as his hips bucked faster. I could feel him teetering, the tension coiling in his body like a spring. His cock so rigid now it felt like it might snap, veins bulging under my grip, the head dripping with precum and flushed an angry red. My hand on his balls squeezed gently, rolling them in time with my strokes, tugging just enough to pull a gasp from him, his whole frame shuddering.

I sped up, grip firm, twisting just right over the sensitive head. His cock throbbed wildly now, hot and leaking steadily.

"Fuck… fuck, Adrian… I’m gonna—"

His whole body tensed, back arching off the bed. "Dude… fuck… I’m coming—"

The first spurt hit his abs hard, thick and white in the moonlight spilling through the window. Then another, shooting higher, splattering across his chest. More followed, pulsing over my fingers, dripping down my hand, coating my grip in a warm sticky release. I kept stroking him through it, slower now, milking every last shudder until he collapsed back, chest heaving.

"Shit, fuck," he laughed breathlessly, eyes closed. "I’m sorry, it’s… everywhere."

I finally let go, my hand dripping. Cum pooled between my fingers, streaked across his abs, glistening on his skin. I laughed too, soft and shaky. "It’s fine."

He opened his eyes, looked down at the mess, then at my hand. "Lemme help you out too. I mean… if you’re hard."

My stomach flipped. I was hard as fuck. Throbbing. Wet. Desperate. The man I’d crushed on for years had just come in my hand. Why wouldn’t I be? But I couldn’t let him see how much this meant. Not yet.

"Nah, nah," I said quickly, sitting up. "I’m just gonna clean this and get back into bed."

He propped himself on an elbow, still flushed and glowing. "You sure? I seriously don’t mind helping you out. Seriously."

I stood, laughing it off even as my legs felt unsteady. "Nah, Romano. Thanks. Maybe I’ll redeem that offer another time."

He grinned, wiping at his abs with the edge of the sheet. "Sure thing."

I slipped into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me. The light was harsh after the moonlight, and I stared at my hand… his cum still warm, thick ropes between my fingers, pooling in my palm.

The whole scene replayed in flashes. His cock thick and throbbing in my grip. The way his hips had bucked desperately into my fist. The broken breathless sound of my name spilling from his lips as he came undone.

I was so hard it hurt, cock straining against my shorts, leaking steadily like it knew exactly what it had missed.

In the harsh bathroom light I lifted my hand closer to my face, almost trance like. His cum was still warm. The scent hit me hard. Musky. Sharp. Unmistakably Matteo. Salty skin and heat and something deeper, rawer, that made my mouth water without permission.

I stared at it, heart pounding in my throat. One small tilt and I could drag my tongue through it, taste him for the first time, feel that warmth slide over my lips, swallow the proof that I’d made him lose control. The thought alone sent a fresh pulse of blood south, my cock twitching hard enough to make me bite back a groan. I imagined the salt bitter flavor, the texture of his cum coating my tongue, the filthy intimacy of licking my best friend’s load straight from my own skin.

My breath came shallow. I brought my hand closer. Close enough that I could feel the faint heat against my lips.

Then reality slammed back in.

I laughed quietly at myself in the mirror, shaky and disbelieving, cheeks burning hotter than before. What the fuck was I doing? I turned on the faucet fast, almost frantically, and shoved my hand under the cold stream. Water rushed over my skin, swirling white streaks down the drain, washing him away in slow reluctant spirals.

I watched it disappear, every last trace of his cum gone.

I dried my hands roughly on the towel, looked up at my reflection. A stupid helpless smile I couldn’t wipe off no matter how hard I tried.

I shook my head, turned off the light, and slipped back into the dark room, heart still racing, cock still aching, carrying the ghost of his taste I’d never actually taken.

Matteo was already half asleep, shorts pulled back up, breathing slow and even. Moonlight still painted the faint sheen on his abs where he hadn’t wiped everything away.

I climbed in beside him, careful not to touch.

The space between us felt different now.

Charged.

Real.

And completely, terrifyingly irreversible.

I lay there in the dark, cock still aching, heart still racing, staring at the ceiling until the waves outside finally pulled me under.