r/gaystoriesgonewild

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Partie 30, Part 31, Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36. Part 37.

Against all expectations, I actually managed to see something positive in what had happened with Adrien, despite the anxiety that had swallowed me the night before. Maybe it was because of that quiet moment I’d shared with my two other roommates on the couch.

Either way, they’d managed to calm me down somehow, and during the night I’d come up with a plan.

A plan to make sure I never made that kind of mistake again.

Thursday itself was pretty packed at the university : I got dragged into an especially painful group project where my partners clearly had no intention of doing actual work. Luckily, I still remembered a lot about the structure of Hellenistic society, so that at least helped us get into the subject faster.

During the break, I took advantage of the large bathrooms to pull out my plug and practice with it a little.

I’d made sure to clean myself thoroughly that morning, obviously, and this time I managed to slide it in without much trouble.

The more time passes, the easier it goes in.

That was exactly what I wanted.

Later that afternoon, I texted Julien to remind him we were meeting after campus so he could show me “a few things.”

He’d agreed immediately. Honestly, he’d sounded almost excited by the idea. Part of me figured it probably appealed to him: he loved introducing me to new things. And I definitely couldn’t picture asking Greg for this kind of help. Not that I think he’d even know how, even if he wanted to.

So I spent the rest of my history lectures sitting there with the plug snug inside me, and I have to admit, every now and then I liked reminding myself it was there by shifting slightly on the bench. Sometimes I’d even clench around the plastic a little.

Maybe doing exercises like that would strengthen the inside of my ass?

Yeah, I know. I’m still completely new to this blurry little world.

And my natural curiosity only made everything worse. I wanted to learn more about my body. About what it could do. And really, who better than Julien to explore all that with?

The only strange thing was that our dynamic had clearly started to change, and… I kinda liked it. Now I was the one asking him for favors instead of the other way around. Though maybe he’d only agree to help me if he got something in return.

Guess we’d see how this animal planned to behave.

- - -

5 p.m. Julien was waiting for me outside campus, leaning against a huge tree near the entrance. His hair was still damp.

Seriously, does this guy ever spend more than six hours away from a swimming pool?

As I walked up to him, he greeted me with his usual grin.

“Well, well. Look who’s here. Charming little Steph.”

“Hey. Thanks for waiting for me.”

“Just got here.” He grabbed my shoulder. “Come on. Follow me.”

Always moving, this guy.

Armed with nothing but a tiny swim bag, he immediately dragged me north of campus at full speed. Just like when we went grocery shopping together, keeping up with him was basically cardio.

I wanted to take the opportunity to explain more clearly what I had in mind when I’d asked for his help, but he didn’t even let me start.

“So,” he said immediately, “what happened with the other one?”

“Adrien?”

“Yeah, who else, dude?”

“I… kinda fucked things up with him. I feel awful about it.”

That instantly caught his attention. His tone changed.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… let’s just say I tried taking his dick, you know, back there.”

“Ah. So you tried to fuck.”

“Uh… yeah. Basically.” Julien and his absence of filters. “I think I handled it badly. It hurt way too much and then…”

“And then?”

“I wasn’t prepared enough.”

“Mmh…” Julien slid a hand across my back, making me shiver. “Hey, don’t stress. That kind of shit happens with the muddy road.”

“The muddy road?”

He laughed.

“Yeah. That’s what a girl I hooked up with used to call it. She came up with it.”

“That’s disgusting and kinda adorable at the same time.”

“Exactly.” He smirked. “Anyway…”

“Wait. Hooked up?” I suddenly processed what he meant. “So you’ve done anal before?”

“Yep. With a girl though,” he added immediately. “Still, it’s basically the same thing.”

Then he gave me one of his trademark little winks:

“Well… except for ONE important detail that changes everything.”

He paused dramatically before continuing.

“For the bottom. And I think you’re starting to understand exactly what that detail is.”

We stopped in front of a strange three-story building with architecture straight out of another century. A sign above the entrance read:

Centre hydrothermal sportif — LECUSAC.

- - -

The building honestly looked way too expensive for a place supposedly meant to help tired athletes stretch their legs. Through the windows, I could already see some palm trees, white stone tiles and people wandering around in bathrobes like they belonged in some luxury resort.

I stopped dead in front of the entrance :

“Is this it ?,” I whispered, grabbing his arm, “looks private as hell.”

The swimmer barely slowed down.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah? That’s your answer?”

He shrugged casually :

“Relax. It’s made for our swim team normally but I’ll get you inside.”

Easy for him to say. He looked exactly like someone who belonged there: tall, athletic, broad shoulders stretching white t-shirt. He was still wet too, meanwhile I looked like a nervous idiot about to commit identity fraud.

Julien sighed dramatically before digging into his bag.

“Here.”

He handed me a plastic membership card.

I looked down at it.

LUCAS MARTEL.

The picture on the badge was ancient and half-erased, the face almost rubbed away by years of use.

“This looks criminal.”

“It looks old.”

“The guy is blond.”

“You’re blond-ish.”

“I am absolutely not blond-ish.”

Julien rolled his eyes and physically pushed the card into my chest :

“Steph, the receptionist scans the barcode. They don’t interrogate your bloodline. It’s just because we have a limited number of entries per months.”

“I’m going to prison because of you.”

“You’re cute, scared boy.” He said while pushing me by the shoulder. “Though if you panic they’re gonna see it.”

“That is not reassuring.”

But he was already walking toward the entrance, forcing me to follow before I could chicken out.

Inside, the air changed immediately: packed with warmth and humidity. The smell hit me pretty quickly too: eucalyptus, chlorine (of course when Julien was around), wet stone, and something floral drifting through the ventilation.

Quiet instrumental music echoed faintly beneath the sound of moving water. This looks more like a SPA than anything else. People moved slowly here. Calmly. A massive dude in a bathrobe walked past carrying herbal tea like a peaceful mountain spirit. Two women in sports jackets sat near a fountain talking quietly. Somewhere deeper in the building, bubbles rumbled like distant thunder. We also came across numerous people in wheelchairs. This place seemed perfect to recover after injuries.

At the reception desk, Julien casually scanned his card.

Beep.

Then he glanced at me.

My turn.

I swear my heart nearly exploded while I handed over Lucas’s membership card with the confidence of a dying gazelle.

The receptionist scanned it.

Beep. No reaction. No alarm. No hydrothermal police unit emerging from the nearest pool.

Julien smirked after a few steps away from the counter :

“Told you.”

“And what does this Lucas gonna think about me stealing his card ?”

“Well… we’ll think about that later.”

- - -

The locker room area sat behind a frosted glass corridor lit with soft blue lights. Everything echoed gently around us: lockers clicking shut, showers running everywhere, flip-flops against tile.

I suddenly realized something horrifying :

“Wait.”

Julien looked up while opening his locker.

“I don’t have my swim trunks.”

“Chill dude. You really thought I brought you here with no plan?”

He reached into his bag and tossed me a folded black swimsuit.

“Spare pair.”

I caught it awkwardly.

Very small spare pair.

Might be even smaller than my usual red pair.

I looked at him :

“You want everyone to see my butt or what ?”

“They’ll fit nicely girl, don’t worry.”

“Bastard.”

He grinned :

“Let’s get changed.”

- - -

A few minutes later, we stepped into the hydrotherapy area itself.

And honestly?

I forgot to panic.

The room was beautiful.

Huge humid windows let in fading evening light that reflected across pale turquoise water. Palm trees rose between the pools, their leaves dark and glossy beneath hidden lamps. Warm mist floated lazily above the surface of the baths while soft echoes bounced across the tiled walls.

There were showers built directly into stone pillars, streams of water cascading continuously into narrow drains beneath them. Athletes moved quietly between pools: some stretching, some floating with their eyes closed, others sitting beneath powerful massage jets hammering against their backs.

The bubble baths rumbled constantly.

The heat wrapped around my body almost immediately, loosening muscles I hadn’t even realized were tense. And beside me, Julien suddenly seemed completely at home here : quiet and a bit different. Not the cocky swimmer constantly teasing me back at the apartment and asking for some blowjob, this was an other side of him. Here, he moved with some sort of relaxed confidence, like the building itself belonged to him.

Maybe this was his way of calming himself between two eventful days.

Just hearing the water, feeling the humidity against my skin, surrounded by soft lights and warmth and silence...

I already felt better.

- - -

Julien led me into one of the elevated sections of the pool where the tiled edge formed reclining seats submerged halfway beneath the warm water.

It was an incredible spot.

“Oh, by the way,” Julien suddenly said, “Greg and I were joking around with the whole Stephanny thing.”

Hmm?

“I mean. He’s the one who found it but I kinda like the idea. Sorry if this wasn’t you thing. It’s the group effect. Plus… something told me you might secretly be into that shit.”

“I… I don’t know. It’s not that I hated it. It just wasn’t really the moment.” I hesitated. “And honestly, Stephanny is not exactly the sexiest name ever.”

“Yeah. You prefer to be our slut, right?” He grinned.

Julien bent one knee upward and I immediately understood why: he was hiding the erection trapped inside his swim briefs that way. From where I sat, only I could see it.

“So the idea of being feminized doesn’t completely turn you off?” he asked, weirdly invested in the topic. “You already shaved your legs, after all.”

“I don’t know. The legs are one thing. The rest…”

“But you like it, don’t you? Admit it.”

God, he really knew how to drag things out of me.

“Yeah… okay. It does feel nice. But it’s going to be a pain to shave then again.”

“You’ll get used to it. I usually do mine once a week.” He said while caressing his inner thighs. “People really enjoy it that way.”

“But the rest… if it’s you guys, maybe it’d be easier. Still, we’d need boundaries.”

“I see. Wait, weren’t you planning to make new rules or something yesterday before I left?”

“Yeah… I should probably talk to everyone about that.”

“Tonight? I think everyone’s home. We could have a roommate emergency meeting.”

“That depends on whether Adrien feels like leaving his room.” I said, a bit absent.

“Man, don’t worry. I’m sure he’s already forgotten about it. He’s got more important stuff on his mind.”

I turned toward Julien, genuinely concerned:

“That’s exactly what worries me. I feel like hes not really in the mood for our weird sex-roommate nonsense. He’s been locking himself in his room a lot lately. And also drinking a bit.”

Julien sighed, scratching his stomach:

“I know. That’s just how he handles problems.” Another sigh. “Not the healthiest way, but… he does what he can.”

“You know him really well.”

“Well yeah. We’ve known each other forever. Since high school actually.”

Right. I vaguely remembered reading that in the apartment listing.

Now that I knew them better, I could suddenly see not just what made them different, but also what tied them together.

“So how did you guys meet anyway?”

Julien groaned dramatically, clearly diving into a mental flashback.

“I can tell you, but it’s a long story.”

“I don’t mind.”

He checked the large clock hanging above the pool.

17h54 p.m.

Crazy how fast time passed in this place.

“If we actually want time to train you a little, we shouldn’t waste too much time. But okay. I’ll tell you when we get home.”

Nice.

Honestly, I was already looking forward to it. I had a feeling Julien had a lot to say about Adrien.

“But I expect something in return. Cause that training you ask me, plus the story. That’s a lot, you don’t think?”

Of course.

Couldn’t be that simple.

“I’m pretty sure we already have an arrangement, don’t we?” His wicked grin came racing back immediately.

“Maybe…” I pretended not to understand very badly, which only amused him more. “What arrangement?”

“You sucking me off whenever I ask.”

I smiled.

He immediately continued:

“You liked that position we did last time, didn’t you?”

Oh god yes. Incredible.

“Yeah,” I admitted simply. “That was really good.”

“Well, this time we can do it properly. Without that idiot Big G barging in.”

“Deal.”

- - -

Let’s just say we didn’t waste any time.

After barely ten minutes soaking in the pools, Julien and I rinsed off under the showers before walking only a few meters down a quiet hallway.

He guided me into a small private room with an oversized massage table inside. There was also a small shower in the corner.

“We’ve got an hour.”

Shit...

Julien had booked a massage cabin for the two of us.

He really had planned everything.

“Take everything off,” he ordered, though this time his voice sounded far more relaxed. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Everyone is 18+

~~~

I called Jake around noon like I always do on Saturdays when the weather's decent for our golf and a night drink. But for whatever reason, he missed last Saturday. "Yo, dude, you down for a quick round at the club? It's been forever since we swung some clubs." My voice came out casual, the same way it always does with him. We've been best friends since we were kids... grew up on the same block, same schools, same dumb inside jokes that no one else gets.

He laughed on the other end, that low, easy chuckle that always makes me relax. "Hell yeah, Alex. Pick me up in twenty? I'll bring the good balls."

We both knew what that meant... the slightly scuffed ones we liked because they flew weird and made us laugh when we sliced them into the trees. Nothing serious. Just us.

I pulled up to his place and he was already waiting on the porch, wearing that faded navy polo that hugged his shoulders just right and those khaki shorts that showed off his runner's legs. Jake's 23 like me, good-looking in that effortless way... dark hair that always looks a little messy, sharp jaw, warm brown eyes that crinkle when he smirks. He hopped in the passenger seat and immediately started ribbing me about my shitty driving.

"Try not to kill us before we even get there, man," he said, punching my arm lightly. His knuckles lingered a second longer than necessary, or maybe I just noticed it because of how warm the car felt.

We drove to the golf club talking about nothing and everything. Work bullshit. That new bar that opened downtown. Girls. Always girls with Jake... at least on the surface.

"You still talking to that girl from the gym?" I asked as we pulled into the parking lot.

He shrugged, grabbing his bag from the back. "Eh. She's hot, but kinda boring in bed. Keeps wanting me to be all romantic and shit."

“Tch”

He shot me a sideways look. "Not like you, huh? Mr. Sucker for cocks."

I nearly tripped over a curb. "Fuck off," I laughed, but my face got hot. He'd been teasing me about being bi-curious for years. He was the only one who knew I messed around with guys sometimes. Secretly. Quietly. Nothing serious. Just... relief. Jake knew because one drunk night a couple years back I'd let it slip, and instead of freaking out, he'd just grinned and said, "Knew it, you little slut."

We played nine holes, sweating under the afternoon sun. The course was mostly empty, just the two of us walking between shots, trading insults. Every time Jake bent over to line up a putt, my eyes drifted to the way his shorts stretched across his ass. I hated how aware I was of him sometimes. He'd catch me looking occasionally and just smirk, like he knew exactly what was in my head.

After the round, we were both sticky and thirsty. "Drinks?" he suggested, already heading toward the clubhouse bar.

"Obviously."

We grabbed a corner booth and started light... beers at first. Then shots. Then more beers. The conversation got looser with every round. Jake's cheeks were flushed, his eyes glassy in that way that meant he was properly drunk. I was feeling it too, but something about the way he kept leaning in closer made my stomach tighten.

We were talking about high school again. Old classmates.

"Remember Mr. Martin's son? No, wait... fuck, remember that asshole Ryan from our class?" Jake said suddenly, his voice dropping a little. "The big, hung rugby guy? Rude as shit but goddamn..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? What about him?"

Jake took another long pull from his beer, then leaned back, staring at the ceiling like he was seeing something far away. "I had the biggest fucking crush on him back then. Used to jerk off thinking about him pinning me down in the locker room after practice."

I choked on my drink. Actual beer went down the wrong pipe. I coughed hard, eyes watering. Jake just watched me with this lazy, drunk smile.

"You... what? You are bi? I mean, I knew you fooled around that one time in college, but... "

He shrugged. "Yeah. Secretly. Only you know now. No one else. Not even my dad." His voice got quieter, more confessional. "But that's not even the crazy part."

I wiped my mouth, heart suddenly beating faster. The bar noise faded a little. "What do you mean?"

We were halfway through another round when Jake got quieter. Not sad quiet. Just... somewhere else.

He was turning his beer bottle slowly against the table, watching the condensation run down his fingers instead of looking at me. Jake glanced around like someone might overhear, even though we were basically alone in the corner. Then he leaned in close enough that I could smell the beer on his breath and the faint sweat from the golf course. His knee pressed against mine under the table.

“You remember Mr. Harlan?” he asked suddenly.

I stared at him. Mr. Harlan. The 54-year-old accountant who lives two houses down from Jake. Married, muscular in that thick dad-bod way, hairy chest you could sometimes see when he mowed the lawn shirtless, always quiet, barely talks to anyone. Good friend of Jake's dad. Super straight-looking.

“The dude near your place?” I said. “Big guy? Always mowing his lawn shirtless for no reason?”

Jake snorted into his drink. “Yeah*. Him.*”

I waited.

He kept rolling the bottle between his palms.

“I found out something weird about him.”

There was this awkward little smile on his face. Not really a happy one. More like he already regretted bringing it up.

“What kind of weird?”

Jake looked around the bar first even though nobody was paying attention to us.

Then he leaned closer.

“You can’t tell anybody this shit.”

“Obviously.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. His cheeks were already flushed from the alcohol, but they got redder.

“I kinda don’t even know why I’m telling you.”

That got my attention more than the actual words.

Jake wasn’t the embarrassed type.

“What happened?”

He let out a breath through his nose and laughed once under it, like he was trying to kill his own courage before it got too far.

“There’s this alley behind the houses,” he said carefully. “Dead end. Barely anybody walks through there.”

I nodded slowly.

“And his storage backs up to it.”

He stopped there.

I frowned. “Okay…”

Jake stared down at the table.

Then quieter...

“There’s a hole in the wall.”

For a second I genuinely thought I misheard him.

“A what?”

“A hole,” he muttered, still not looking at me. “Like… intentional.”

I blinked at him.

Jake finally looked up, eyes flicking to mine for maybe half a second before dropping again.

“I saw some guy back there one night,” he said. “Thought he was pissing or doing drugs or something.”

His fingers tightened around the bottle.

“But he wasn’t.”

The way he said it made my stomach tighten a little.

Jake swallowed hard before continuing.

“There was someone on the other side of the wall.”

Now his voice was almost low enough that the music covered parts of it.

“And the dude was…” He shook his head once, embarrassed. “Fuck, man.”

“What?”

Jake laughed nervously again, covering his mouth with one hand for a second.

“He was sucking him off.”

I stared at him, the word slipping out louder than I meant. “A glory hole?”

Jake immediately looked away like he wished he could rewind the conversation. He rubbed the back of his neck harder, his ears turning red under the bar lights. For a few seconds he didn’t say anything, just kept spinning that half-empty beer bottle between his palms, the condensation making little wet tracks on the wooden table.

“Yeah,” he finally muttered. “A glory hole.”

I sat there frozen, trying to process it. This was Jake... my best friend since forever... telling me something that sounded like it came out of some anonymous porn video, not our quiet suburban neighborhood.

He glanced up at me once, checking my face, then looked back down. “I didn’t believe it at first either. I thought the guy was just messing around or something. But I saw it clear enough. The poster on the wall was pulled aside. Smooth hole. Taped edges and everything. And there was this thick cock sticking straight out. Some dude from the pub was on his knees sucking it like he was starving.”

My mouth felt dry. I took a long sip of my beer just to have something to do with my hands. Under the table, my knee was still touching his. Neither of us moved it away.

Jake kept talking, voice low and careful, like he was testing every word before letting it out.

“I got the fuck out of there fast that night. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So the next day, during daylight, I walked through the alley again. The poster was back up, covering everything perfectly. Some old funky band poster. It looked totally normal. Nobody would ever guess.”

He paused. Took a breath.

“I started paying attention, only on Saturday nights. That’s when it happens. Guys who’ve been drinking at the bars nearby slip into the alley, get what they need, and leave. Quick. Quiet. No one knows it’s Mr. Harlan’s storage.”

I choked a little. “Mr. Harlan? The accountant? Your dad’s buddy? That Mr. Harlan?”

Jake nodded slowly, cheeks burning. “Yeah. The same one who mows his lawn shirtless. Hairy chest, dad bod, barely says two words to anyone. Married for like twenty-five years. And apparently he’s been running a glory hole in his storage for who knows how long.”

The bar noise felt far away now. All I could focus on was Jake’s face... the way his jaw tightened, the slight tremble in his fingers around the bottle, the way he kept glancing at me like he was scared I’d laugh or freak out.

I leaned in closer without thinking. “So what did you do?”

He was quiet for a long time. The longest pause yet. His knee pressed harder against mine under the table, almost unconsciously.

“Last Saturday… I went there before anyone else showed up.”

My stomach flipped.

“I slipped into the alley, pulled the poster aside, and waited in the dark. I didn’t even know if he’d use it that night. But after about fifteen minutes… his cock came through the hole.”

Jake’s voice dropped to almost nothing.

“Fuck, Alex… it was thick. Really thick. Heavy. The head was fat and already leaking a little. I could smell him... that warm, musky man smell mixed with soap. I just… got on my knees and put it in my mouth.”

I felt like someone punched the air out of my lungs. My cock twitched hard in my jeans, filling out completely in seconds. I had to shift in my seat, but there was no hiding how turned on I was getting.

Jake kept going, like once he started he couldn’t stop.

“I sucked him slow at first. Licked around the head, took him deeper little by little. He pushed forward gently, like he was enjoying it. I stayed there for almost twenty minutes, just worshipping it. When he came… it was a lot. Thick loads. I swallowed most of it. Some dripped down my chin. I stayed on my knees even after, breathing against his softening cock until he pulled back.”

Silence.

Complete, heavy silence between us.

I was rock hard. Painfully hard. My dick was throbbing against my zipper, leaking into my boxers. The shock of hearing my best friend... the guy who teased me for years about being a “sucker for cocks”... admit that he’d been secretly sucking our 54-year-old married neighbor’s dick through a glory hole was frying my brain.

Jake finally looked at me properly. His eyes were nervous but also a little glassy with something else. Want.

“You’re hard right now, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

I didn’t even try to deny it. I just nodded, swallowing hard.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I’m fucking shocked, man. Like… my head is spinning. But I’m so hard it hurts.”

Then something clicked in my brain.

"Wait..." I said, staring at him. My voice came out rough. "So you fucking missed our golf last Saturday because you had a rock hard pole deep down your throat at night?"

Jake froze for half a second, then let out a low, guilty laugh, rubbing his face with both hands.

"Fuck... yeah"

----

A few months ago I was hanging out with my best friend who is gay. We have known one another forever. It was a relaxing night that we planned to stay in and watch some tv. His partner wasn’t there yet but we were expecting him to join us. My best friend was asking how my love life was going and I expressed my frustrations. Newly single after getting out of a long term relationship was not too fun.

Not too long after his partner arrived. About 30 minutes went by of us having a good time and my best friend asked again (now with his partner present) about my love life. Not really thinking about it, I expressed my frustrations to them. My best friends partner asked if I had any ‘prospects’ at the moment. I told him no and semi-jokingly said…. “I just want some!!” That caused a good laugh between us.

I made a follow up joke saying… “you two are lucky… I bet your getting some tonight!” They both laughed again but his partner said… “want to join?” I was taken back at first. Not sure if this was a joke or not… I laughed and said “hell yes!!” Again… I was just thinking it was a joke.

The next thing I know… they both were asking me if I was serious. I could tell now they were not joking. Keep in mind I’ve known both of these guys for a while. They are great people and both keep themselves looking good and healthy. They asked if I’ve ever done anything with a guy before. I said no. Then they asked what’s one thing I really wanted… My honest answer was a blowjob!

They both asked me again… “are you sure?” I simply said “yes, please.” They both joined my on the couch I was sitting on. They were on either side of me. They put their hands on my thighs and started to slowly rub until they reached my cock. I was wearing joggers so it was easy for them to feel my cock. I was so nervous to the point I was worried what if I don’t get hard. Well… after them rubbing my cock for 5 minutes I can tell you I was rock hard! I mean absolutely throbbing.

My best friend asked me if I was ok to take off my pants. I didn’t answer I literally just took them off. My hard cock few out and slapped against me. They both loved that. They continued to stroke me. Sometimes together and sometimes taking turns. Not much was being said during all this. But I was moaning as it felt so good.

I closed my eyes for a moment and just enjoyed what was happening. The next thing I knew they were both on their knees in front me. My best friend (only fitting) went first. He put his mouth on the tip of my cock and started to suck me slowly. It felt so incredible.

For the next ten minutes they took turns sucking on my cock. My best friend would suck it and then help guide my cock into his partners mouth… that was insanely hot. As his partner was sucking my cock, my best friend started to suck on my balls. At this point I knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

Now they alternated between sucking my cock and balls. I’ve never had anyone share my cock before and the feeling of someone sucking my cock and balls at the same time was AMAZING.

I could tell my cock was leaking. I made it another 5 minutes but I knew I was going to cum soon which I told them. My best friend said he wanted to swallow my load and his partner was ok with this. I was not ready for what happened next…

They told me stand up. My best friend on his knees in front of me started to suck my balls and stroke my cock. It felt so great I lost track of where his partner was. I felt someone grab my ass… then… a tongue went right into my asshole. I let out a loud moan and my legs gave out a bit. Fuck it felt so good.

My best friend took my cock in his mouth. He placed his hands on my hips and forced my cock into his mouth. His partner had his hands on my ass and was rimming me. There I was standing in their living room, with no pants on, one guy sucking my cock and the other rimming my ass.

I made it a minute… I screamed “I’m going to cum!” My best friend sucked me harder. His partner continued to rim me. I exploded a huge load into my friends mouth. I let out a loud moan and grunt as he was draining me. I could barely stand. I had to sit down. My best friend took so much of my load. As he was swallowing it, his partner came over and started sucking my cum covered cock. I could barely take it but he wanted to make sure it was completely clean. We all collapsed essentially where we were. I sat on their couch with no pants on until I could gain my composure. We hung out for another hour until I left for home.

Later that night I received a text from my best friend saying how amazing the night was. They both loved my cock and it made them so horny they had some of the best sex they ever had… I won’t lie… that made me feel so good.

This was one of the greatest experiences of my life. And for those wondering… this was the start of some amazing fun for the three of us. Since this first time… we have done this many more times. I’ve even started sucking there cocks. I can definitely say I really love cock now!!

Everyone is over the age of 18

--------------------------------------------

Our college guarantees dormitories for the freshmen, and it's a lottery system for every year after that. I honestly think dorms are kinda awesome. I don't have to cook or clean, and I roll out of bed 5 minutes before class. 

However, I didn't win the lottery. So, at the end of my first year, I was scrambling to figure something out. I fuck with my friends, but they're all smokers and I'd probably never get shit done if I lived with any of them. But, I couldn't afford to live alone either. 

My dormmate didn't get campus housing either, and we sort of looked at each other and said, “Well, we made it a whole year without someone flipping out.” And, if we could make it work in such a small space (I'm telling you, I could have probably stood on my bed and crossed over to his without even jumping), then sharing an apartment should be no problem. 

Theoretically, it was sound. In fact, that would solve the few problems we did have as dormmates. Jaden isn’t a huge fan of the skunk smell, so I would be able to use my bong in peace in my own room.  Plus, the dude is kinda a homo man-slut and I was always staying out late so he could do his thing. Having an apartment would fix that issue too. 

Theoretically, it was sound. 

Then, bam, motherfucking pandemic. 

I think we had one weekend of normalcy and then everything shut down. All our courses went online and then basically we were locked down at home for weeks on end. 

Jaden and I are cool. We talk whenever we need to and it's chill. There's no god damn ideal situation to be in a pandemic, but our setup is not the worst. We've already lived with each other for a year, so it's not like we weren't used to seeing each other around. It just became a lot more. 

I honestly spent a lot of the first two weeks just blazing up. Couldn't pay attention to the online lectures anyway so why suffer in HD? I saw that Jaden was taking it more seriously at first, but he gave up eventually too. We started hanging out more as the days dragged on, although there's not that much we share in common. You can tell just by comparing how the two of us look. Our shit never gets mixed up in the laundry because everything I have is dark, and he wears all colours of the rainbow. Gotta rep that gay pride. 

I think he was going to the gym pretty much every day last year. Even while we’re stuck at home, he's doing pushups and sit ups on the floor like he's afraid that 6 pack might run away on him. I like working out too, but I also like a fucking pizza. I probably have a good 50 pounds on Jaden. 

“You're giving me a headache, dude.” I say with my lungs full of smoke, and then I blow it out the window. “What are you working out so hard for anyway?” 

“If there's one thing you need to know about gay guys,” Jaden says between crunches, “is that they’ll find any opportunity to get more ripped. I don't wanna be behind when this is all over.” 

“You're fine, man.” I lift up my black shirt to show him my belly. “You're far from this.” 

“Yeah, but that works for you. I can't pull off being a beefcake. Don't have the bones for it.” He switches to bicycle crunches and I'm exhausted just looking at him. 

“You want some?” I extend the bong to him, hoping he will just relax. I know he doesn't smoke regularly, but I do actually see a spark in interest in his eyes. I load it up for him and flick the lighter open. 

“Sure, what the hell,” Jaden says with a final crunch. I hold the glass for him as he sucks, and he immediately coughs the smoke everywhere in the room. 

“Fuck!” I laugh. Putting everything down, I open the window so the haze can clear faster. When I sit back down, my roommate is still coughing his lungs out. “You okay, dude?” 

“Yeah… just.. haven't…” he coughs. “Been a long time.” 

Anddddd his eyes are bloodshot. 

“Since that last time with you,” Jaden finishes his sentence with a gasp of air. 

Last time? 

There's a funny story behind that one. Basically, I was a dumbass and took a random pill from our RA’s desk, thinking it was for parties. Didn't know that the man had problems getting it up, but it was in fact a boner pill. It was pretty much a public health emergency how bricked up I was. 

I told you that our beds were like two feet apart right? 

“You still cum twice?” Jaden lays back on the ground, looking up at me with cloudy eyes.

“Yeah, you kinda unlocked that skill for me,” I say. It should be fucking awkward but I guess it's funny enough that it bypasses that? My gay dormmate sucked me off so I didn't have to go to the hospital for the world’s biggest bone. 

And yeah, he was good at it. I could see why he had guys lining up to be on that small twin size bed. 

“You try any other guys since?” Jaden asks, completely in a daze. 

“Man, the grass is getting to your loins,” I chuckle. 

“You try getting fucked everyday and then have nothing.” He scratches his chest and I can see his thoughts drifting to his spank bank. 

“Hey, I get laid,” I say. Not as much as him. I think women just aren't as chill about sex as gay dudes are. 

“When was the last time?” 

“When I went back home during the break, I fucked my ex,” I admit. 

“Like 1 month and a half ago?” Jaden says. “I sucked a cock the day they announced the lockdown. Had to get my last fix.” He licks his lips. 

Flower makes me horny too. I think it makes everybody horny. I guess on someone hypersexual like my roommate, it's just amplified. 

“Did you cum twice with her?” he asks. 

“Nah. Just once.”

“What do you mean I unlocked a new skill then? God damn, your calves are the size of my head,” Jaden says, staring intently at my legs like it’s the first time he’s seen legs. “Can I touch them?” 

“Sure?” I say. His wrists do look tiny compared to my ankles. “Oh yeah, I meant like now I know I can bust twice, but I mostly do it when I'm jerking off.” 

“That's such a waste,” Jaden says to my calves. He gently massages them, like he's testing out the firmness of the muscle there. “If I was your girlfriend, I would milk you dry.”

“Well, she's just my ex and we probably shouldn't have been fucking anyway. Okay, dude, you’re going to have to buy me a drink first!” I pull my leg slightly away as his hands wander a little too far up to my thigh. 

“Sorry.” His hands go back down to my calf. “Fuck, I'm horny.” 

“Yeah, man, I can pretty much see your hard-on.” Actually, I can. Laying down with shorts on doesn't make it so discreet. 

“A month and a half though…” Jaden murmurs. “Is this okay?” He pulls on the top of my sock and I nod.

“Oh fuck.” I didn't expect to see my roommate shove his nose in the sole of my foot. He takes a big inhale and his breath comes in a whiny moan. 

Fuck. 

“That smells so good,” he sighs and breathes in my foot stench again. “By the way, George, if you ever wanna blow in something besides your fleshlight,” he pulls my sock down and my jaw drops as he sucks on my big toe, “I’d make it a double for you.” 

so im 18 m and i have an exhibition kink and earlier today i posted myself on the internet for the first time ever and it hit like a drug the website works like this so you post a pic and set a timer when the timer runs out the pic gets deleted but anyone has the power to extended the pic or download it so it hit like a drug and each pick got more and more revelling till now i dropped to the floor with a mirror in-front of me and spread my legs looked at the mirror and took a pic you can see absolutely everything and my face is fully in there so before i could back out i just posted it i closed my eyes and just pressed the post button people have already extended it and download it im super scared im totally exposed here is the link as promised fuckk what am i doing

https://exposedpassion.com/post?id=288489

🔞Everyone is 18+.

The first thing I noticed was the silence. Not a true silence—the hum of the fridge, the distant tick of the hall clock—NO. The kind of heavy, waiting quiet that comes before a storm. I was in the living room, a book open and unread on my lap, pretending the words weren’t just black squiggles. Mom, Elara, had gone up to bed an hour ago with one of her headaches, the kind that required darkness and silence. Dad, Kael, was snoring softly in his leather recliner, a documentary about deep-sea fish murmuring on the television, casting eerie blue light over his slack face.

The house was asleep. And I was painfully, electrically awake.

Because he was here.

Soren. dad’s best friend from a chapter of life so distant it felt like another man’s biography. He’d arrived that afternoon, and his presence had warped the very atmosphere of our home. He wasn’t staying in a hotel. He was in our guest room, just down the hall. The knowledge was a live wire in my gut.

I’d watched him all through the awkward, stilted dinner. Soren Valen. The name suited him—Nordic, sharp, cold on the surface but suggesting hidden, volcanic depths. He was maybe fifty, but time hadn’t softened him; it had honed him. His hair was the colour of wet slate, swept back from a high forehead, strands of pure silver at the temples that didn’t look aged but distinguished, like streaks of mercury. He had a hawkish, severe face: a blade of a nose, a mouth that seemed permanently on the verge of either a smirk or a snarl, and eyes. God, his eyes. They were a pale, piercing grey, the colour of a winter sky just before snow, and they missed nothing.

He’d caught me staring three separate times during the meal. Each time, he hadn’t looked away. He’d held my gaze until I was the one who flushed and dropped my eyes to my plate, my pulse hammering in my throat. He’d worn a simple black t-shirt that stretched across a chest that was broad and solid, not the puffed-up bulk of a gym rat, but the dense, functional strength of a man who used his body for real things. His forearms, resting on the table, were corded with tendon and dusted with dark hair, and I found myself imagining the scrape of that hair against the inside of my thighs.

The thought had been so vivid, so shockingly lewd, that I’d spilled my water.

Now, in the sleeping house, the memory of that thought returned, a hundred times more potent. I was wearing just a thin pair of soft sleep pants and an old t-shirt. The fabric of the pants felt like sandpaper against my skin. Every nerve ending was on fire, hyper-aware. I could still smell him—a clean, masculine scent of sage and something darker, like black pepper and leather, that had lingered in the dining room after he’d left it.

A floorboard creaked.

My head snapped up. Soren stood in the archway of the living room, leaning one shoulder against the frame. He’d changed into low-slung sweatpants and nothing else. His torso was a map of lean muscle and old scars—a silvery line along a rib, a knot of tissue on his shoulder. A trail of dark hair led from his navel down, disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. My mouth went completely dry.

He didn’t speak. His pale eyes scanned the room: Kael, snoring; the flickering TV; me, frozen on the couch, my book forgotten. A slow, knowing smile touched his lips. It wasn’t friendly. It was predatory. It was a smile that said I see you. I see the frantic beat of your heart. I see the heat in your cheeks. I know exactly what you’re thinking.

He pushed off the doorframe and walked, not towards the kitchen or the guest room, but towards me. His steps were silent on the thick rug. He moved with a panther’s grace, a contained power in every motion. He stopped beside the couch, so close I could feel the radiant heat from his bare skin. I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. The angle made me feel small, exposed.

“Can’t sleep, Gabriel?” he asked. My name in his mouth was a rough, intimate caress.

I shook my head, unable to form words. My hands were clenched in my lap, knuckles white.

His gaze drifted down my body, a slow, deliberate inventory that felt more invasive than a touch. It lingered on the visible tremor in my thighs, on the way my t-shirt clung to my damp chest, and finally, it settled unerringly on my lap. Where the soft fabric of my sleep pants was tented, betraying the hard, aching length beneath.

A low, approving hum vibrated in his chest. “Neither can I.”

He didn’t ask. He simply reached down and plucked the book from my lifeless fingers, setting it on the side table with a soft thud. The sound was final. Then he sat. Not on the other end of the couch, but right beside me, his thigh pressing flush against mine through the thin layers of fabric. The contact was a brand. I jolted, a sharp gasp catching in my throat.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice a velvet-rough whisper that skated over my skin. He was looking straight ahead at the television, at the ghostly, bioluminescent fish drifting in the abyss. His arm came up and stretched along the back of the couch behind my head. He wasn’t touching me, but the heat of his bicep was a promise against the back of my neck. The scent of him enveloped me, spicy and clean and overwhelmingly male.

My cock, already hard, throbbed painfully. I was leaking, a damp spot surely forming on my pants. I squeezed my thighs together, a futile attempt to relieve the pressure, and the movement made me rub against the solid muscle of his leg. A bolt of pure, undiluted pleasure shot up my spine. A tiny, choked sound escaped me.

Soren’s head turned. Slowly. His winter-grey eyes were dark now, the pupils wide and black with intent. He looked from my eyes, wide with panic and desire, down to my mouth, parted and panting, and then back to my eyes.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he breathed, his words barely audible over the drone of the documentary. “What it would be like.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A verdict.

I managed a jerky, shameful nod. My whole body was trembling.

“Tell me,” he commanded, his voice still that soft, dangerous whisper. His hand, which had been resting on the couch behind me, came forward. He didn’t touch my body. Instead, his fingers, long and blunt-tipped, began to trace idle, maddening patterns on the bare skin of my shoulder where my t-shirt had slipped down. The touch was feather-light, but it burned. “Tell me what you’re imagining, right now, while your father sleeps ten feet away.”

The taboo of it, the sheer, dizzying filth of the situation, unlocked my voice. It came out in a broken, hushed rush. “I… I imagine you… touching me.”

“Where?” His finger trailed down my arm, leaving a trail of fire.

“Everywhere.” The word was a confession. “Your hands. They’re… rough. I imagine them on my hips. Gripping me. Holding me down.”

His finger stopped at the inside of my elbow, a point of intense, focused heat. “And then?”

I was falling, tumbling into the fantasy, led by his voice and his scent and the devastating proximity of him. “Your mouth,” I whispered, the sound ragged. “On my neck. Biting. Not hard enough to mark where they can see, but… hard enough that I feel it for days.”

A sharp, indrawn breath from him. His control was a palpable force, but it was fraying. I could see the muscle in his jaw clench. “Go on.”

Emboldened by his reaction, by the dark hunger now blazing in his eyes, I went further. The words spilled out, filthy and hot. “I imagine you pushing my pants down. Just like this. Here on this couch. And you’d… you’d spit in your hand.” I watched, mesmerized, as his own hand flexed where it rested on his thigh. “You’d slick yourself up. And you’d just… push inside me. No asking. No waiting. Just… taking me. Filling me up. So deep I couldn’t breathe.”

His eyes slammed shut for a second. When they opened, they were pure, feral hunger. The careful distance was gone. He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was hot, his voice a gravelly growl that vibrated through my very bones.

“I wouldn’t be gentle, Gabriel. I’d fuck you raw and mean on this pretty couch. I’d make you bite the cushion to keep from screaming while I split you open on my cock. I’d make you come so hard you’d see stars, and then I’d keep fucking you through it, until you were sobbing and begging me to fill you up.”

The imagery was so visceral, so brutally explicit, that my vision whited out for a second. A full-body shudder wracked me, and I felt the hot, sudden spill of my release in my pants. It wasn’t a full orgasm—it was a helpless, shameful surrender, a gush of wet heat that soaked through the fabric, triggered by nothing but his words and his proximity. My back arched off the couch, a silent, strangled cry locked in my throat as the pleasure-pain of it ripped through me.

Soren felt it. He saw the shudder, smelled the sharp, musky scent of my spend in the air between us. A dark, triumphant smile spread across his face. He leaned back, his eyes drinking in my ruined, trembling state—the flushed skin, the dazed eyes, the obvious, damp patch on my pants.

He reached out one final time. His thumb brushed over my bottom lip, a shockingly tender gesture that was at odds with the filth he’d just whispered. His thumb was rough. I could taste salt and him.

“Next time,” he promised, his voice dropping to a low, intimate rumble that was for me alone, “I won’t use my words.”

He stood up in one fluid motion, looking down at me like a conqueror surveying his spoils. He gave a last, lingering look at my father, still dead to the world, then back to me. The message was clear: This is our secret. This is our sin.

He turned and walked away, disappearing down the dark hall towards the guest room without a backward glance.

I collapsed against the couch cushions, boneless, wrecked, my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The damp, cooling patch on my pants was a tangible proof of what had just happened. No touching. No kissing. Just his voice, his presence, his will, and I’d come apart like a cheap toy.

I stared at the hallway where he’d vanished, at the door to my parents’ room upstairs, and I knew with a terrifying, exhilarating certainty that the fragile peace of this house was already shattered. The storm hadn’t just arrived. It was already raging inside me. And I was desperate, addicted, for it to consume me whole.

You know where to find more💦😈

The Uber driver let him off at the corner of Brattle Street and Appian Way, and Jonas stood for a moment on the curb with his duffel bag cutting into his shoulder, his backpack pulling at both straps and his suitcase by his side, staring.

Contrary to what he had been told, the house wasn’t a house. It was a fucking estate. Well… maybe not that much but it was literally a mansion spreading farther than he could see.

Three stories of red brick and cream trim rose behind a wrought-iron fence that had actual electric lanterns mounted on the gateposts. A cobblestone driveway curved toward a detached garage that could have fit his family’s entire apartment back in Worcester. Twice. Ivy crawled up the eastern facade in disciplined rows, trimmed so precisely it looked painted on. 

What the hell was he doing here again?

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Jonas muttered.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from Sean: Here yet? Door’s open. Come through the main entrance.

Jonas nervously ran his hand through his blond curls and pushed through the gate. The hinges didn’t creak. Of course they didn’t. The front door was oak, massive, with a brass knocker shaped like a lion’s head. He didn't even have time to think too much about just how absurd that was before the door opened in front of him.

Sean Algar leaned against the doorframe like he was posing for a magazine spread. So fucking tall. Brown hair swept back from his forehead in that effortless way that probably took twenty minutes to achieve. He wore a Harvard crewneck with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that belonged on a rowing team poster. His smile was wide, showing rows of blinding white teeth. 

Fucking hell.

“Jonas! Glad you made it.”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Sean pulled him into a one-armed hug before Jonas could extend a hand. The duffel bag made it awkward. Sean smelled like cedar and something citrusy, surely some kind of expensive cologne, the kind that came in bottles heavy enough to use as weapons. The kind Jonas would never ever think about buying. 

“Your sister said you’d be nervous,” Sean said, stepping back and looking him over. “She wasn’t wrong, was she?”

“I’m not nervous.” He replied immediately, trying not to let his voice sound annoyed. As much as he loved his sister, she really was too talkative at times.

“Your hands are shaking.”

Jonas looked down to note that they indeed were. He hadn’t noticed. “It’s cold,” he explained lamely.

“It’s August.” Sean’s grin widened. “Come on. Let me show you the place. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

The foyer alone was larger than Jonas’s dorm room had been during undergrad orientation. Freaking marble floors, the kind of thing you only saw in stupid movies about obscenely rich people. A chandelier that probably cost more than his entire scholarship. A staircase curved up to the second floor with a mahogany banister polished to a mirror shine. Sean kicked off his sneakers by the door, and Jonas hurried to do the same, noticing too late that one of his socks had a hole near the left big toe. So much for the first impression.

“So this is the entryway,” Sean said, gesturing broadly. “Living room’s through here.”

Jonas followed him through an arched doorway into a space that made his jaw go slack. Vaulted ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows that faced a backyard with an actual pool, heated, Sean mentioned offhandedly, and a patio with furniture that looked like it had been arranged by a professional designer. It surely had honestly… he would not be surprised about it. The couches in the living room were leather, like… all of them.

“There’s eight of us total,” Sean said, dropping onto one of the couches and motioning for Jonas to sit. “Well, nine now, with you. You’ve got the smallest room, like I told your sister, but honestly it’s still bigger than most of the singles on campus.”

“How much bigger?”

“You’ll see.”

Jonas sat on the edge of a leather armchair, his backpack still on his lap like a shield. “And the other guys?”

“Out right now. Nikolai’s probably at the business school library, he practically lives there. Aiden has swim practice until seven, maybe eight. Rafael’s…” Sean paused, tilting his head. “Actually, I have no idea where Rafael is. He’s like a cat. Shows up when he wants attention, disappears when he doesn’t.”

“And the others?”

“Kane’s at some symposium on international trade law. Dion’s probably at the gym. Lucien’s definitely hungover somewhere. Probably in the bedroom of one of his fuck buddies.” Sean ticked them off on his fingers like he was reciting a grocery list. “I've told the guys you're joining us, so you'll meet everyone tomorrow, we're going to have a sort of welcome meeting.”

Just the kind of things he hated… being the center of a room. Just great.

“Don’t look so terrified. They’re all assholes, but they’re good assholes.” Sean leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Let me give you the rundown so you’re not walking in blind.” The way he said it, like he was doing Jonas a favor, like this was privileged information, made Jonas’s stomach tighten. But he nodded anyway, what else could he do really? “Nikolai Orlov. Russian father, French mother. A student in economy and finance, he really loves that shit. Dude’s got more money than half of the school and a face like a marble statue. Very serious, and very intense. He doesn’t smile much, but when he does it’s because he’s won an argument. Don’t be intimidated by him, he’s really chill all in all.” Sean held up a second finger. “Rafael Ortega. Spanish roots. This one is pure chaos, really. He’s incapable of staying serious for more than two minutes and a dick he’ll show you within five minutes of meeting him.”

Jonas blinked. What the actual fuck? “He what?” 

“He’s an exhibitionist. The  dumbass doesn’t ‘believe’ in clothes, at least that’s what he says. You’ll get used to it, eventually.” Sean’s tone was casual, like he was describing someone’s coffee order, and not the fact that one the men who lived here literally liked to show off his fucking prick. “Then there is Kane Devereux. He is a British-French guy, so very posh. International law and political science. Built like a fucking tank. Serious family money, old money, like… his family literally owns castles. Just a little warning about him, don’t bring up his father. Just don’t.”

“Why?” he asked, trying to process as much as possible of the overwhelming amount of information that was being thrown at him far too quickly.

“Because I said so.” Sean’s smile didn’t waver, but something behind his eyes went flat. “Aiden Brooks. Our very own olympic-level swimmer. Pure American this one. Has a body like a Greek god and about as smart as one, but he’s a good guy, he’ll make you laugh. Dion Walker… I think he is the quietest of us all. You'll recognize him easily by his short beard.  He follows a philosophy major, which means he’s either brilliant or completely full of shit. It’s up to you to decide which one. Then, Matthew Sinclair, who is a freaking giant, he’s got an insane physique, seriously, considering all the junk food he eats, paired with the face of an angel. The guy is a genius… like, literally.”

“And the last one?” Jonas asked, because if he was not wrong, there was only one guy missing. 

“Lucien Beaumont. Red hair. French too… too many fucking french roots around her. The loudest of us all. He’s a mountain of muscle and he knows exactly how handsome he is. If he hits on you, don’t take it personally. He hits on everyone.”

These words landed in Jonas’s chest and stayed there. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but something must have flickered across his face because Sean tilted his head.

“Relax. Nobody here cares who you fuck.” Sean stood up. “Come on. Let me show you the kitchen.”

The kitchen was a chef’s dream. So many countertops. A six-burner gas range. A refrigerator that had a screen on it… a screen, on a refrigerator… like what…. displaying some information. Copper pots hung from a rack above the island. The pantry was larger than Jonas’s childhood bedroom. Oh he would really love this room… he knew that much.

“This is insane,” Jonas said quietly.

“Nikolai’s parents bought the place his freshman year. They rent the rooms to us at cost.” Sean opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles of water, tossing one to Jonas. “The rent’s high because the neighborhood’s high, but compared to what you’d pay for a smaller apartment in the middle of the university? It’s a steal.”

Jonas caught the bottle against his chest. It was not a steal, for it was still very expensive, but he had to admit it was so much better than some rooms he had visited. “Why’d you have an open room?”

“Previous guy graduated. Moved to New York for some finance job.” Sean unscrewed his water and took a long drink. “Your sister called me literally the week he moved out. Said you were desperate.”

The word ‘desperate’ stung a bit. Jonas looked away, at the copper pots, at the marble, anywhere but at Sean’s face. “I wasn’t desperate.”

“She said you’d been rejected from thirty-seven places.”

“It was nineteen.” he replied a bit sourly. 

“And the dorms?”

“Waitlisted.” Because of course he had been. Finding a room in one of the best universities in the world while being a normal guy with normal resources was a nightmare. 

“That’s what I said. Desperate.” But Sean’s voice wasn’t cruel. It was matter-of-fact, like he was stating the weather. “I’m not judging. The housing situation around here is fucked. I’m just saying how it is.”

Jonas twisted the cap off his water bottle. “Why’d you say yes?”

“To your sister?”

“To me.”

Sean leaned against the island, crossing his arms. The fabric of his crewneck pulled tight across his broad shoulders. “Because she asked. And because she’s still one of my friends, even if we didn’t work out. Come on. Let’s see your room.”

The staircase curved upward, and Jonas’s hand on the banister left faint smudges on the polished wood. He tried to wipe them away with his sleeve. This place was really ridiculous. Sean led him down a hallway on the second floor, past closed doors, past a bathroom that had an enormous tub visible through the half-open door, and past what looked like a laundry room with two washers and two dryers.

“That’s Nikolai’s room,” Sean said, pointing to a door with a small brass plate that read ORLVOV. “Aiden’s at the end. Kane’s next to him. Rafael’s room is across from mine on the third floor, he wanted the upper floor space, more privacy for his ‘activities.’” The air quotes were audible.

“Activities?”

“You’ll find out.” Jonas was not sure he wanted to. Sean stopped in front of a door near the back staircase. “This is yours.”

Jonas opened the door.

The room was supposed to be small, the smallest in the house, Sean had warned him, but it was beautiful. A window faced the backyard, letting in afternoon light that caught the dust motes floating in the air. Hardwood floors, and a built-in bookshelf in a corner of the room. It had a desk by the window. There was a closet with a sliding door, a small dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp that had a stained-glass shade. The walls were painted a pale blue-gray that reminded Jonas of winter mornings.

He had visited some rooms with a kitchen and bathroom smaller than this one. 

“This is the smallest room?” Jonas asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Technically. But we don’t really do ‘small’ here.”

Jonas dropped his bags on the bed, and put his suitcase next to the bed. The mattress gave slightly under the weight. He ran his fingers over the comforter, its texture softer than anything he’d ever owned.

“So?” Sean leaned against the doorframe. “What do you think?”

“I think I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not. But we’ll take the compliment.” Sean checked his phone. “I’ve got to head out in twenty minutes, study group for biochem. You good to settle in on your own?”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m good.”

“Kitchen’s fully stocked. There’s a takeout menu drawer next to the refrigerator. Bathroom’s down the hall, you share with Aiden and Dion, but they’re clean. Mostly.” Sean pushed off the doorframe. “Oh, and Jonas?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let the house intimidate you.” The practiced smile softened into something almost genuine. “Everyone here got in because they deserved to. Including you.”

He was gone before Jonas could respond.

Jonas stood alone in the room, his room, and listened to the silence, before he started to unpack slowly. He put his clothes in the dresser, his textbooks on the shelf, arranged by subject. His laptop on the desk, next to the stained-glass lamp. 

He thought about what Sean had said. Everyone here got in because they deserved to. It was a nice sentiment. It was also, Jonas suspected, bullshit. The kind of thing people said when they’d never had to fight for a spot at the table. That was definitely the case for all the other guys in that house, rich kids, well-connected, and all that stuff.

Sean had called the rent ‘a steal’. Jonas had checked the numbers three times before accepting. The monthly payment would eat nearly half his scholarship stipend. The rest would go to food, books, and whatever emergencies the year threw at him. He’d be eating a lot of rice. A lot of pasta. He’d be fine.

He’d been fine before.

At seven o’clock, his stomach growled loudly enough to echo. Jonas made his way back downstairs, navigating the hallways of a house he didn’t know carefully, not wanting to stumble into someone else’s space, and found the big kitchen empty. The takeout menu drawer was exactly where Sean had said it would be. Jonas thumbed through them: Thai, Indian, sushi, a pizza place that charged fifteen dollars for a large.

He settled on a Vietnamese place and ordered pho. He ate at the kitchen island, perched on a barstool that had probably cost more than his entire wardrobe. The pho was good, better than good, actually, the broth rich with star anise and cinnamon. He slurped noodles and scrolled through his course registration on his phone.

Nutritional Biochemistry. Advanced Macronutrient Metabolism. Public Health Policy and Food Systems. Research Methods in Nutritional Epidemiology.

Four classes. Two semesters. And then, if he survived, a few more years of the same, with some added classes and subjects.

He’d spent his entire undergrad working toward this. Late nights in the library. Lab internships that paid nothing, but which were still opportunities and professional experiences that added value to his portfolio and resume. The Harvard acceptance letter had arrived on a Tuesday. His mom had cried when she saw it, and his dad had taken a picture of the envelope and sent it to everyone in his contact list.

And now he was here, eating pho in a mansion, surrounded by people he hadn’t met yet.

The front door opened at eight-thirty.

Jonas heard it from the kitchen, the heavy thud of the oak door, footsteps on marble, voices. Two of them, low and conversational, but still loud enough he could hear them a bit.

“—told him the deal wouldn’t close before October, but he didn't listen.”

“Your father never listens.”

“My father thinks listening is for poor people.”

The voices moved into the living room. Jonas stayed frozen on his barstool, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He couldn’t see them from the kitchen, but he could hear them clearly.

“Is the new kid here?”

“Sean said he was coming today.”

“The sister’s brother?”

“That’s the one.”

A pause. Then, lower: “What’s his deal?”

“Nutrition. Scholarship kid. From Worcester I think.”

Jonas’s grip tightened on his chopsticks. Scholarship kid. He hadn't even met them yet, and he'd already been labeled. He’d heard them before, so many times, in so many different tones. Sometimes pitying. Sometimes dismissive. Sometimes, from certain people, a particular kind of condescension masquerading as admiration.

“Is he hot?”

What the hell?

“I don’t know. Sean didn’t say.”

“Sean never says. Sean thinks everyone is beneath him.”

“That’s because Sean is an asshole on his best day.” One of the voices replied with humor.

Amidst the quiet laughter, he heard the sound of someone dropping onto a leather couch. Jonas set his chopsticks down carefully, quietly, and slid off the barstool. He padded to the kitchen doorway and peered through.

Two men were in the living room. One was massive, broad shoulders, thick arms, black hair that curled slightly at the ends. He wore a tight black T-shirt that hugged every contour of his upper body, and even from across the room, Jonas could see veins running down his forearms. His biceps were obscene… like bulging veiny and all. He had sunglasses pushed up on his head and a metal watch glinting on his wrist.

The other man was leaner but still imposing. Dark hair, styled messily. A jawline that could cut glass. Tattoos, some impressive wings, peeking out from the collar of his shirt. Jonas didn’t know who he was but his face looked like it belonged on a billboard.

Listening to them talk a bit, he was apparently the one who asked if he was hot.

Jonas stepped back from the doorway. His heart was beating too fast. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t prepared in any way, to meet them yet. Not tonight. Not alone, without Sean as a buffer. He’d meet them tomorrow, at the house meeting, with everyone else present and the attention diffused.

Yeah, that was a good plan.

He retreated to the kitchen, washed his bowl in the sink, dried it with a towel that hung from the oven handle. He did all that before realising that there was a dishwasher here. The voices in the living room continued, but he couldn’t make out the words anymore. He slipped out through the back hallway and climbed to his room without making a sound.

Behind his closed door, Jonas sat on the edge of his bed and exhaled.

Scholarship kid.

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t an insult. It was just true.

He pulled out his phone and texted his sister: I’m here. The house is insane. Sean says hi.

Her response came within seconds: Told you he’d come through. How are the other guys?

Haven’t met them yet. Tomorrow.

Be brave, little brother. You deserve to be there just as much as they do.

Jonas stared at the message for a long time. His sister had always known exactly what he needed to hear, even when he didn’t want to hear it. She’d dated Sean for eight months, two years ago, and when they broke up she’d told Jonas it was because Sean was ‘too in love with himself to make room for anyone else’. But she’d never burned the bridge. She’d kept the connection alive, and when Jonas needed it, she’d used it.

He owed her. He owed her more than he could ever repay.

The house settled around him. Footsteps in the hallway passed his door and continued toward the far end of the corridor. A door opened and closed, surely one of the other guys going into their rooms.

Jonas changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, climbed into the ridiculous bed with its ridiculous comforter, and stared at the ceiling. He was here. He’d made it. Tomorrow, he’d meet the rest of them. Tomorrow, he’d sit in the living room with eight strangers and try to convince them he belonged among them for at least a year. 

He really wasn't eager to do it.

But it was for tomorrow.

Tonight, in the quiet dark of his too-small, too-beautiful room, Jonas let himself feel it: the terror, the exhilaration, the bone-deep certainty that his life had just shifted irrevocably.

He didn’t sleep for hours.

Everyone is 18+ and the situations described are fully consensual.

I woke up the next morning with my heart already racing before I even opened my eyes. The memories from last night hit me like a freight train. The Grindr messages. The dick pics I sent. The perfect bubble butt and spread pink hole that made me lose control. The way I had stroked myself raw under the blanket while Percy slept five feet away. My underwear was still crusty and uncomfortable, a sticky reminder of how hard I had come while staring at a stranger’s ass. I groaned quietly and rolled over, hoping Percy was still asleep so I could sneak into the bathroom and deal with the mess before he noticed anything.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fan. I cracked one eye open and froze.

Percy was not in bed.

He was in the middle of the floor, doing yoga.

He had rolled out his thin blue mat and was in downward dog, ass pushed high in the air, back arched perfectly. He wore only a pair of black compression shorts that clung to every curve like a second skin. The fabric stretched tight across his bubble butt, outlining the round cheeks and the deep cleft between them. His legs were straight, muscles flexing, and the position made his ass look even more obscene than usual. A thin sheen of sweat already glistened on his lower back from the stretch.

I stared. My cock twitched hard under the covers before I could stop it.

Percy held the pose for a few more seconds, then smoothly transitioned into a lunge, one leg forward, the other extended behind him. His ass flexed with the movement, cheeks tightening and relaxing in a way that made my mouth go dry.

I cleared my throat, trying to sound normal. “You are up early.”

Percy glanced over his shoulder at me, that familiar slow smile spreading across his face. He lowered himself into a plank, then pushed back up into downward dog again, giving me another perfect view.

“Well, if my roommate moans and jerks off all night, it’s kind of hard to sleep through it”.

My stomach dropped. Heat exploded across my face and neck. I sat up fast, the blanket pooling around my waist, trying desperately to keep my voice steady.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Percy chuckled softly and flowed into another pose, this time a pigeon stretch. One leg bent under him, the other extended straight back. His ass cheeks spread slightly with the movement, the black fabric riding up between them.

“Come on, Huntz. I heard you. Heavy breathing. Wet sounds. That little grunt you make right before you finish. Sounded intense. Must have been some really good porn.”

I swallowed hard, my cock betraying me again by thickening against my thigh. I tried to play it cool even though my pulse was hammering in my ears.

“It was just regular porn, dude. Nothing special. Guys watch porn. It’s normal.”

Percy held the stretch for a long moment, then switched sides, giving me the same view from a slightly different angle. He looked over at me again, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sure, Huntz. Whatever you say. But you were stroking for a long time and whispering some stuff too. Must have been one hell of a porn video”

I felt my face burn hotter. Fuck. How much had he actually heard? Did he catch me talking to myself about bubble butts? Did he know I had been on Grindr? My mind raced through every quiet stroke, every shaky breath, every desperate whisper I had made in the dark.

“It was just random porn,” I repeated, voice coming out rougher than I wanted. “A latino chick riding a cock. Straight guy stuff. You know how it is.”

Percy finished his stretch and sat back on his heels, stretching his arms overhead. The movement made his chest and shoulders flex, and his compression shorts rode even lower on his hips. He looked relaxed, calm, and way too fucking amused for my liking.

“If you say so, big guy. But you seemed really into it. The blanket was moving a lot. Sounded like you were having a good time.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to hide the half-hard bulge in my boxers by turning slightly away from him. I grabbed a clean pair of shorts from my drawer and pulled them on quickly.

“Whatever. It was nothing. Forget about it.”

Percy stood up from the mat, wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and walked over to his bed. He picked up his water bottle and took a long drink, throat working as he swallowed. When he lowered the bottle he looked at me again, that knowing little smirk still playing on his lips.

“By the way, my back feels perfect this morning. Whatever you did during that massage last night worked like magic. No pain at all. You have magic hands, Huntz.”

I shrugged, trying to act casual even though the compliment sent another unwanted spark through me.

“Glad it helped. You were complaining pretty hard.”

He laughed softly and set the bottle down.

“Yeah, well, you fixed it. I owe you one. Maybe next time you are sore from practice I will return the favor. Give you a nice long rub down.”

The image of Percy’s hands on my body flashed through my head uninvited. I pushed it away fast.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Percy tilted his head, studying me for a moment.

“You seem kind of tense lately, big guy. Everything okay? You have been acting a little off.”

I grabbed my tank top and pulled it on, the black fabric stretching across my chest.

“I am fine. Just tryouts and classes and shit. Normal stuff.”

He nodded slowly, but his eyes said he did not quite believe me.

“If you say so. Oh, and I have a Grindr date tonight. New guy. Should be interesting.”

My gut twisted again, sharp and ugly. Jealousy flared hot in my chest like it had last night. Another one? So soon? After I had spent half the night jerking off while thinking about asses that looked a lot like his?

“Who is this new fucker now?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual but failing. It came out tighter than I meant.

Percy shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Just some jock dude from campus. First time with a guy, apparently. Has not done much yet. Seems pretty innocent. Nervous type.”

I stared at him, jaw tight. “So what? All of a sudden he is ready to fuck a dude?”

Percy laughed, low and warm, and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Who said anything about fucking, Huntz? He seems like a sweet, innocent jock boy. I will treat him good. Take it slow. Show him what a real mouth can do. Make him feel comfortable before anything else happens. Ease him into it. You know, be gentle with the new ones.”

The words hit me hard. I pictured Percy on his knees, looking up with those dark eyes, wrapping his lips around some nervous straight jock’s cock, whispering filthy encouragement. The jealousy burned hotter. My hands clenched at my sides.

“Whatever,” I muttered. “Tell me when to leave. I will go hit the gym or something. Give you the room.”

Percy watched me for a long moment, that smirk still playing on his lips. “Thanks for the room, Huntz. Appreciate it.”

I did not answer. I just grabbed my stuff and headed out, letting the door click shut behind me. The walk to football practice felt longer than usual. My head was still spinning from everything Percy had said. That casual way he talked about his Grindr date. The innocent jock. Taking it slow. Showing him what a real mouth could do. Every word kept replaying in my mind like a bad loop.

Later that night, as I had promised Percy, I grabbed my gym bag, slung it over my shoulder, and headed for the door.

“See you later,” I muttered, not waiting for a reply.

I stepped out into the hallway and let the door close behind me with a soft click. The corridor was quiet, most people already out for Friday night. I stood there for a second, bag heavy on my shoulder, staring at the closed door.

Inside that room, Percy was getting ready for his date. Some nervous jock who had never been with a guy before. Percy was going to treat him good. Take it slow. Make him feel comfortable.

My jaw tightened.

I turned and walked down the hallway, footsteps echoing louder than they should have, each one heavier than the last. My legs carried me toward the campus gym, but my head stayed behind—stuck in that room, replaying it.

The jealousy sat heavy in my chest the whole way to the gym, refusing to leave no matter how hard I tried to push it down.

Everyone is 18+ and everything is consensual.

College wrestling was nothing like I expected. I thought it would be all sweat and strategy, numbers on a spreadsheet, the quiet thrill of watching bodies collide without ever having to step onto the mat myself. I was right about the first two. The third part? That hit me harder than any takedown ever could.

My name is Logan Hayes. Twenty years old, freshman, five foot ten on a good day, skinny enough that people assume I am still growing into my frame even though I stopped growing two years ago. I have always loved sports, but from the safety of stats sheets and highlight reels. Actual contact? No thanks. Too much risk of looking stupid or getting hurt or, worse, getting hard in front of a room full of straight guys who would never let me live it down.

So when the assistant manager position opened up for the wrestling team at my uni, I applied faster than I have ever moved in my life. The posting said they needed someone reliable, good with numbers, not afraid of early mornings or late nights. I fit the bill perfectly. What I did not mention in the application was how badly I wanted to be around all that muscle and power and sweat. How the thought of being in the same room as those guys made my stomach flip in the best possible way.

Coach Grayson interviewed me in his office on the second floor of the athletic center. The door was half open when I knocked, and the smell hit me first: old leather, liniment, the faint tang of rubber mats and man. He looked up from his desk, all six foot four of him, broad shoulders stretching the sleeves of his team polo, dark beard trimmed short, eyes the color of storm clouds. There was a faint white line on his left ring finger where a wedding band used to sit. Divorced. Everyone knew that much. The rest was rumor.

"Logan Hayes?" His voice was low, gravelly, the kind that vibrated in your chest.

"Yes sir."

He stood up, taller than I remembered from the team photos, and offered a hand. His grip was firm, callused, warm. "Sit."

I sat. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, biceps bulging against the fabric.

"You know wrestling?"

"I know the rules. I know the records. I know every match from last season down to the points scored in each period."

He raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. Most kids your age are still figuring out how to do laundry."

"I like details."

"Good. I need details. Team manager quit last week. Left me with a stack of stats nobody can read and a locker room that smells like ass. You start Monday. Six AM sharp. Bring coffee. Black. Two sugars."

That was it. No small talk. No bullshit. Just like that, I was in.

The first week was heaven and torture in equal measure. I showed up early, set up the water station, logged weights and times, folded towels like my life depended on it. The wrestlers trickled in: college guys my age but built like fucking gods. Thick necks, veiny forearms, thighs that could crush watermelons. They slapped each other on the back, laughed loud, stripped down to singlets without a second thought. I kept my eyes on my clipboard, but it was impossible not to notice.

And then there was Coach Grayson.

He ran practice like a machine. No wasted words. Barked corrections, demonstrated moves with effortless power, sweat soaking through his shirt until the gray cotton clung to every ridge of his chest and abs. When he peeled it off halfway through, I nearly dropped the timer. His torso was a map of hard work: wide pecs dusted with dark hair, deep cuts along his obliques, a treasure trail that disappeared into low slung compression shorts. The bulge there was impossible to ignore. Heavy. Prominent. The outline clear even through the tight fabric.

I swallowed hard and looked away.

He caught me staring once. Just a glance. His eyes locked on mine for half a second longer than necessary, then flicked back to the mat. My face burned for the rest of practice.

By the end of the week I was exhausted, horny, and convinced I had made the best decision of my life.

Friday practice was brutal. Two hours of live wrestling, no breaks. The guys were gassed. When the final whistle blew, they stumbled toward the lockers, peeling singlets down as they went. I started cleaning up: wiping down mats, collecting water bottles, trying not to look too obvious as bare asses and swinging cocks passed by.

Coach stayed behind. Shirtless again, sweat rolling down his spine, shorts riding low on his hips. He walked over, towel slung over one shoulder.

"Good work today, Hayes."

"Thanks, Coach."

"You see that escape Johnson tried in the third period?"

"Yeah. He rolled too early. Left his hips open."

"Exactly." He nodded. "You got a good eye. Stick around a minute. I want to run something by you."

My heart kicked up. "Sure."

He jerked his head toward the far side of the gym. The lights were dimmer there, the big overheads turned off for the night. The team was gone. Just us.

He stepped onto the mat, bare feet silent. "Come here."

I followed.

"Show me how you think that escape should go."

I blinked. "Me?"

"You. On the mat. I'll demonstrate."

I hesitated. My palms were suddenly sweaty.

He dropped into a stance, knees bent, hands up. "On your back. Like you're the bottom guy."

I lay down. The mat was cool against my skin through my thin t shirt. He knelt over me, straddling my hips, then lowered himself until his chest pressed against mine. His weight was solid, heavy, perfect. I could feel every inch of him: the heat of his skin, the dampness of sweat, the hard planes of muscle.

"Arms up," he said. "Like you're defending."

I raised them. He grabbed my wrists, pinned them above my head with one massive hand. His other slid under my knee, hooking it, spreading me just enough.

"Now bridge," he instructed.

I bridged. My hips lifted, pressing up into him. Our groins met through thin layers of fabric. My cock, already half hard from the proximity, swelled instantly. His did too. I felt it. Thick. Growing. Pressing right against me.

He froze.

I froze.

For a long second neither of us moved. His breath was hot against my ear. His heart hammered against my chest. Mine matched it.

Then he exhaled, slow and rough. "Shit. Ignore it."

He rolled off me fast, stood up, adjusted himself without looking at me. The bulge in his shorts was obscene now, straining the waistband.

I sat up, dizzy, aching.

He ran a hand through his sweaty hair. "You alright?"

"Yeah." My voice cracked. "Yeah, I'm good."

He nodded once, sharp. "Lock up when you leave. See you."

He walked away. I watched the flex of his back, the shift of his ass in those shorts, the way his cock still tented the front. Then he was gone.

I sat there for a full minute, breathing hard. My dick throbbed painfully against my zipper. I could still feel the ghost of his weight, the press of him, the smell of his sweat in my nose.

I stumbled to the bathroom, locked myself in a stall, yanked my pants down. My cock sprang free, leaking already. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked fast, picturing him pinning me again, his hips grinding down, his mouth close to my ear whispering filthy things he would never say out loud.

It took less than a minute. I came hard, biting my lip to stay quiet, ropes of cum splattering the stall wall. My legs shook.

I cleaned up, washed my hands, left the gym dark and empty.

That night I lay in my dorm bed staring at the ceiling, replaying every second. The way he said "ignore it" like he was trying to convince himself. The way his eyes had lingered on my mouth for half a heartbeat before he walked away.

My phone buzzed at one in the morning.

Unknown number.

Gym tomorrow. 9 PM. Extra work on your spotting form. Don't be late.

It was Coach Grayson.

I stared at the message until the screen went dark.

My cock twitched again.

I typed back one word.

Yes Coach.

I hit send before I could overthink it.

Then I rolled onto my stomach, pressed my face into the pillow, and let myself imagine what might happen when I walked through that gym door tomorrow night.

The lights would be low. The mats would still smell like sweat and rubber. He would be waiting, shirtless probably, shorts low on his hips, that thick bulge already stirring.

He would call me over.

He would put me on my back again.

And this time?

This time he might not roll off so fast.

I closed my eyes and smiled into the dark.

Nine o'clock could not come soon enough

Been dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia and shame of the years for my kinks and desires. Just now letting a decent part go. While out and about I am masculine and do wanted to be treated with respect another part just wants to let go and be completely used and abused by another man.

I’m bi switch so while I do love to dominate women, trans women, and fem guys I don’t mind flipping the script and getting cock fed to me. It feels good to embrace my submissive side and not look it with weakness. Sometimes a guy just wants to let go and have someone take charge and be a slut for him.

It doesn’t make me less of a man just because I want to be a bitch in bed for him. Feels good to just embrace being me and being a good girl for him. Also love sissy hypno / captions and I own lingerie. Just need to find the right man who wants a piece of this ass.

It was a normal day at work and had to use the bathroom. I Thought no one was in the there because both stalls were unlocked. I went in a stall and proceeding business as usual but noticed someones shoes in the stall next to me. I didnt think much of it other than they forgot to lock the door. As im using the toliet I here a sound that we all know well and cant mistake, he was jerking off. I heard muffled music as if he was blasting music in his headphones, so i know he couldnt hear when i came in. He was going in using long wet strokes that echoed throughout the room. Im rock hard at this point and I try the old cruising technique ( tap your foot and wait for a response). He tapped his foot back so i tried finishing up asap to go give him head in the next stall over. To my suprise he was just adjusting his positon because as soon as i flushed the toliet he gets startled and jumps up to leave the bathroom. I made sure to hurry up so i can see who it was and it was a temp worker that just got hired at the job. We made eye contact then i went back to work sporting a chub for the rest of my shift. I cant wait to go back to work tomorrow. Pt 2 coming soon fingers crossed!

Part 1
Kyle and Adam were just two regular guys on campus — until they got behind closed doors.
That morning they were sitting in the back of their usual near-empty chemistry lecture. Kyle was actually trying to take notes while Adam leaned back, shamelessly palming the fat bulge straining against his jeans.
“Bro, what the fuck are you doing?” Kyle hissed, eyes darting around.
Adam just flashed that stupid, horny grin he always got when he was worked up. “We didn’t rub one out this morning, man. I’m pent as fuck. Help me out.”
He kept rubbing himself right there like they were in their dorm, completely unbothered. Kyle was wearing his tight grey shorts — the ones Adam always called his “fat clapper” shorts — and a black tank top. The heatwave made everything worse.
“Dude, stop. We’ll get caught,” Kyle whispered, face already burning red.
Adam shrugged. “Then give me something better to do or I’m not stopping.”
Kyle’s heart hammered. In a panic, he raised his arm and shoved Adam’s face straight into his sweaty, hairy armpit.
“Shut the fuck up, you stupid bastard.”
Adam groaned deeply, inhaling hard. The musky scent of Kyle’s unwashed pit after a hot morning hit him like a drug. He started rubbing his bulge faster, muffled moans vibrating against Kyle’s skin.
It didn’t take long. Adam let out a shaky, broken groan as he came hard, thick ropes soaking into his jeans with no underwear to contain it. A dark, obvious wet patch spread across his lap.
Kyle pulled his arm back, staring. “For fuck’s sake… you didn’t wear boxers again?”
Adam just sat there blissed out, eyes half-lidded, still breathing heavy against the lingering scent.
The lecture ended around them. Kyle shook his head, trying (and failing) to hide his own grin.
“I’m gonna fail this class because of your horny ass.”
Adam finally looked up, smirking. “Worth it.”

Three years ago, I was horny & wanting to give a blowjob to an older man in his car as I'd never given a blowjob in a car before. I went on Grindr and began messaging men who were nearby and were my type (daddies, bears, tops, chubby, hairy). I was 27 years old at the time.

Eventually, a 56-year old man replied & told me he was interested in meeting me. His account didn't have any photos on it & he requested selfies of me, so I sent him a few photos. He then agreed to meet me within the hour (it was 8PM at this point). He didn't send me any photos of himself, and I was completely okay with that. I was so nervous & anxious to meet him as I have social anxiety, but I pushed through as I wanted cock so desperately.

I went to meet him, and he was parked up in his car, and he flashed his headlights to indicate it was him. I got in his car & asked him if he was the man from Grindr I was going to suck off. He said yes & asked me where we could go. I knew a spot nearby, and gave him directions to it. It was down a country lane, past a busy parking lot & into a forest.

He parked up next to the side of the dirt road & turned the lights off as he didn't want us to get caught. With excitement, I pulled his jeans & boxers down past his knees, revealing his already semi-erect uncut cock, which slightly curved to the right & was dripping in precum.

Had I made a man double my age horny before even touching him? This boosted my confidence so much & eased my anxiety. I was sat in the passenger seat, and lent over to suck him off, spitting on it & taking it deep into my mouth. His cock tasted and felt so perfect in my mouth & throat, I felt like I was in heaven.

I deepthroated him, sucked on his balls, sucked his cock & wanked him off for 25 minutes as I didn't want him to cum straight away. I edged him so I could get us much cum out of him as possible.

Before making him cum, I took photos of myself sucking his cock. I wanted to have something to look back at to see what I had done & to forever immortalise that memory. He groaned and held my head down on his throbbing cock, before he shot his thick, salty cum into my mouth & to the back of my throat. I kept sucking until my mouth was full, gulping it down & swallowing the lot before he filled my mouth up again.

The amount of cum was so surprising but I was thankful for. I gulped the last lot down before continuing to suck his cock for several minutes before he went flaccid.

He pulled his jeans & boxers back up and began to drive me back to where he picked me up from. I wiped my lips, thanking him for letting me give him a blowjob & for all the cum he rewarded me with. He was very appreciative and told me that he was very surprised how good I was at sucking dick.

He dropped me back at where he picked me up

We asked Mack to meet us by our favorite hiking path. It was a favorite summer tradition of ours, meeting out by the quarry and starting a hike around this time in the early evening. By the time we’d get to the top, the sun would soon be setting and as long as we didn’t fuck around too long (we usually did), then we could make it back to our cars just as it hit pitch black out. We also loved it because no one came out here at this time. It was mostly families or kids our age hiking over here and none of them knew the woods like we did, so they’d be long gone before sunset.

Mack pulled up in his car in the lot, parking right next to us, despite there not being a single other car around.

“Hey boys.” He sounded a little tired.

“Hey sup,” I said, pulling him in for a quick hug. “How was training?”

“I’m fucking exhausted man. You guys are killing me wanting to do this hike tonight.” 

Declan tried to rile him up a bit, “don’t be such a bitch. Do you know how many times you forced me out here when I was tired!” Mack met his sassiness with a playful shove.

We set out onto the path, starting the 1.5 mile thirty minutes up to the “peak” overlooking the quarry lake below. It took all of five minutes before Mack had taken his shirt off and tucked it into his back pocket, hiking in shorts and a hat, his filled out body looking thick as we climbed. His chest had a little more hair on it than I remembered last time but he still looked soft all around. 

I hovered back with Declan for a second. “So?” I gave him eyes.

“Sooo??” Declan looked confused.

“Sooo do you think he looks…hot?” I motioned my head up ahead at Mack.

“Oh,” Declan panicked, “I don’t know! Maybe? Yes? I don’t know!” I rolled my eyes and kept moving.

We made it to the top quicker than usual, taking our seats and panting, catching our breaths, a decent sweat having built up for all of us. The sun still had some time to set, but the view was still beautiful, clear, crystal water shimmering down below.

“Thanks for texting,” Mack said, taking a swig of water. “I’m gonna miss this a lot soon.”

“Let’s make sure we come up here again all 5 of us this summer,” I added. 

“Definitely.” Mack responded.

“You think Mack will still make us come up here together when we’re wrinkly and old as shit in 100 years,” Declan said in a serious tone.

“Oh fuck off!” Mack threw a stick at Declan who dodged it and giggled.

Declan glanced at me and nudged his head towards Mack. I shook my head as if to say what do you want ME to do? Declan made sure Mack wasn’t looking and mouthed to me, ask him. Please.

I rolled my eyes and mustered some of the newfound bravery I got this year.

“Hey…Mack?” I asked, moving to sit near him.

“Sup?”

Declan came over and barged into the moment, “oh fuck it whatever. Mack I think I might be bi and I wanna test it out with a threesome with you guys. What do you think?”

Mack rolled his eyes and shook his dead, “fuck off Declan, Olly was about to say something for real.”

“Huh? I’m serious,” Declan responded

“Olly, what’s up?” Mack just ignored Declan. 

“Uhh. That, actually. I was gonna say that,” I motioned to Declan.

“What? Huh?” Mack was confused.

“I’m serious! Why does no one ever take me seriously!” Declan pouted.

“Because you’re never serious?” Mack raised his eyebrows.

Declan and Mack went back and forth.

“Fair fine. But I am right now!”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not!”

Mack considered him.

“You think you like guys…? For real?”

“I think so yeah, Olly’s been helping me figure out my shit.”

“How do you think so?”

“Well I’ve only done stuff with him,” Declan pointed to me, “but I’m not not interested in trying with someone else too…”

“Bi…?”

“I think so. I definitely like girls still.”

Mack considered him, thinking. “Olly?”

They both turned towards me.

“I mean there’s no instruction manual on all of this stuff. I think Deck’s figuring his stuff out. And I support him while he does. Maybe a weird proposition but…we thought…maybe the three of us could…ya know…”

Mack contemplated my words. “Okay. Well first off. Deck I fully agree with supporting you, you know I love you and I support you, no matter what,” he paused to squeeze Declan’s shoulder. 

“But…” he considered how to say his next words carefully, “I’m not into guys...I’ve had fun with Olly but it’s kinda a one-off thing I can’t really explain, I think…” Declan looked hurt.

“When I look at you, I just think of you farting and shit, you’re kinda gross dude,” he teased Declan, whose sadness went to anger.

“Oh my god, FUCK you Mack. I bet you’re fucking dirty anyway.” 

Well this was going well. I tried to mediate.

“What if…” I started, rubbing my chin, “we treated it like how two straight guys might with a girl…” they both stared at me. “Like…you’re both doing stuff with me only. But Deck can at least feel out whether he would want to be with the guy too in that situation?”

Again, they stared at me. Mack started, “is this just you manipulating us into getting both of our dicks?” He grinned.

“What?!” I threw my hands up, “no no! I’m just trying to help Declan! I’m offering myself up for the greater good!!” I tried to make myself look innocent.

“Fine.” Declan still looked offended about Mack’s views of him being gross.

Mack thought it over. “I really didn’t have on my bingo card getting some around Declan in my life honestly…” Declan still looked hurt and Mack seemed to realize he needed to ease up, “but…yeah that could be kinda fun…”

I decided to take the lead. I nudged closer to Mack and dropped to my knees in front of him. I raised my eyebrows as a question to him and he gave me a slow nod, eyes locked on mine.

I reached up and hooked my fingers into his waist band and pulled his shorts and underwear down in one motion as he lifted his butt off the rock face underneath. Out plopped his thick, soft dick, surrounded by dark hair, with his huge sweaty balls hanging below from the hot evening. 

I glanced to Declan, whose eyes were glued to Mack’s lap, clearly locked onto Mack’s manly looking package. His eyes were wide. It was clearly the biggest dick he’d seen in real life before and he looked like I did the first time I’d seen its girth.

I moved in and took Mack’s soft, large, dick into my mouth and started sucking. It was extra sweaty tonight after our hike, tasing extremely bitter and raw, but I didn’t mind it given how hot this was, performing for Declan. 

I bobbed up and down as I felt Mack harden in my mouth, until he eventually reached his full seven thick inches. Per usual, I struggled mightily to work his large cock, but did my best to service him as his hand played with my hair. He stayed relatively quiet, probably fighting back moans with Declan nearby, trying to seem tough. I forced him as deep into my mouth as I could, choking on his beast and gagging out spit, my eyes watering.

“Fuckkkk.” Mack let out a low groan unable to hold back, “god you’re so good at sucking dick, Olly.” 

I popped his cock out of my mouth but kept stroking it, smiling up at Mack. “Declan, come here,” I patted on the rock, next to Mack.

He moved to sit next to Mack, getting as close to him as he could without actually making physical contact. He stared down at me as I worked Mack’s cock. 

“Guys I’m definitely bi…” Declan whispered.

Mack’s curled grin of pleasure opened into a big laugh and he put an arm loosely around Declan, squeezing his opposite shoulder. “Glad that seeing our friend suck my dick unlocked something in you,” he teased.

“Oh fuck you!” Declan rolled his eyes and threw Mack’s arm off his shoulder.

“I bet you’d like that,” Mack winked at him and I smiled with my mouth wrapped around his cock, sucking and licking his sweaty meat. 

Declan lifted himself up and stripped himself, now with a shirt on but naked from the waist down, his shorts bunched around his ankles. He was already rock hard. He started stroking his uncut penis.

“I think mine could eat yours as a snack little guy,” Mack teased again.

Before Declan could respond I moved my mouth to his cock, in between getting a word in, “no size bragging Mack, I love Declan’s cock,” I emphasized the word cock to try to stroke Declan’s ego. I did genuinely love his body and I wasn’t going to let Mack get a word of teasing in about their size difference.

I took Declan’s dick into my mouth, his saltiness mixing with Mack’s, feeding my primal desire for man.

“Oh, mmhhm,” Declan settled into me blowing him for the second time today. I kept stroking Mack’s cock, working one dick with my mouth and the other with my hand as they both now let out low moans, both trying to hold back the audible sounds of their pleasure. 

“So hot.” Declan said, playing with my hair now, and moving his eyes between my face and Mack’s dick as I stroked it. Now he was trying to perform.

I lifted off of Declan and switched, mouth to Mack and hand on Declan, again feeling their unique tastes mixing, a cocktail of sweat and cock. I continued every minute switching back and forth, alternating, and loving the position I was in.

“Can I hold it Mack?” Declan asked, looking at our friend.

“Still not my thing, sorry buddy,” Mack said as I continued sucking him off. 

“Please? It’s so big.” I couldn’t tell if Declan was actually begging for it or if he was just trying to seduce Mack with a compliment.

“Ughhh, fine.” I lifted off of Mack and moved my mouth back to the adorable, smaller Declan, as he immediately took Mack into his hand and began jerking him off.

“Jesus Christ this thing is so fucking thick. I can’t even get my hand around it*…*,” Declan was mesmerized. 

“Keep jerking me. Faster.” Mack closed his eyes, focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore that it was Declan masturbating him. 

“I’m close already guys,” Declan panted, less than a minute into our new arrangement, “fuck…fuck…Olly…I’m gonna cum…” he sped up jerking Mack as warm shots of his cum spilled into my mouth, saltier than ever after our hike. I scrounged my nose at the bitter, salty taste, but kept sucking for his pleasure. He met my mouth with upward thrusts and high pitched whimpers.

“Olly, come here,” Mack demanded, pushing Declan’s hand off of his dick, clearly still not loving their contact. 

I quickly moved back to Mack and sucked him with everything I had, working the base of his dick with my hand underneath. Declan just stared as I worked Mack. After a minute or two, I felt Mack’s thighs start to tense up.

“Cumming.” Mack said, matter of factly, as I lifted off of his dick, wanting to give Declan a show. I jerked him furiously and opened my mouth wide as Mack grunted and released shots of semen at my face, hitting my mouth, outstretched tongue, nose, lips, a little bit of everything. His seed was even saltier than Declan’s, after his lacrosse training and the hike. 

As he finished, I licked my lips, and wiped my nose with my hands, sucking Mack’s cum off of my face to clean up. The overwhelming taste of their cum stained my tongue.

Author Note: This is a scene from a long form 50 part series of mine called Northern Lights! Check out my reddit page for more info on how to find my writing and this whole series!

Little bit about myself first, I'm in my mid 50's married(woman) and had been curious since my teens when I found my first playgirl mag in the woods. The couple stories I may or may not share all happened back in my 20's ... been reading all these stories for awhile and figure I'd share my experience ...

I'm not a writer so excuse any typos... thanks

We left the club somewhat early not sure of the reason maybe my girlfriend needed to be home early for work the next day, I’m not sure. This evening we gave one of her friends a ride home. My girlfriend had a smaller two door sports car. I sat in the passenger seat and he sat behind me thinking back that was odd since I’m 6’3 and usually slide the seat all the way back and I had the back rest reclined back a bit too. He leaned forward to give my g/f directions and kind of wrapped his arms around my neck loosely and stayed leaned forward. His right arm kind of relaxed a bit and he ran his hand down my chest. I had unbuttoned my shirt since I was hot after dancing all night. His hand found my left nipple and he lightly brushed against it and ran his hand across my chest firmly. His hand found my left nipple again and he lightly pinched it and it felt amazing. My girlfriend kept driving guess it was dark and she was focused on driving. He continued to fondle my nipple and rub my chest my cock was starting to get hard. It felt amazing and this was the first time another male had touched me like that. My cock was as hard as a rock and throbbing. He reached around lower with his left hand by the seatbelt and started rubbing my stomach with the hand working my pants open and making his way down to my hard cock. He has inches from touching the head of my cock when we pulled into his apartment complex, and I got out and shifted my cock in my pants and let him out of the backseat…said our good byes and felt weird after the incident and confused.

Everyone is 18+. And it is a true story.

So I live in a relatively quiet and small village in England, and I work from home so activities are few and far between.

I been chatting to daddy (no idea what his name actually is) for a few days, and it’s been really warm here recently, which naturally makes us all a bit more active than normal. He’s 50, white, reasonable shape and can hold a conversation - which always helps.

He can’t accom, and I’m a little intrigued about meeting him. To my own surprise, I suggest during the middle of a working day that we meet in a car park, and I suck him off.

I walk there - nervous about what I’m even doing. In the day? Really? People will surely be around. But it made me feel like such a slut.

I get there and it’s busy. A few messages between us and he suggests I hop in his car, and he drives us to a place he knows that’s usually quiet.

Now getting into a car with a stranger is not something I recommend - but I did it. I guess I craved a bit of adventure. He told me to get in the back seat- so I did.

A short awkward drive later, we’re in the back of his car, and I’m sucking his cock. About 30 seconds in, he asks if I can see him again. Regularly.

He has good girth, 6-7 inches long, and oh does he love to talk. He was giving me instructions, telling me what a good job I was doing, and engaging in race play (something I did consent to, something new to try).

I must have been down there for 20-30 mins, giving him a sloppy blowjob as he made me gag on his cock god knows how many times. He tells me to swallow.

Yes sir

So I swallow and attempt to clean myself as he drives me back to where he picked me up.

And he wants to see me again.

Ideally everyday.

Will I see him again? I’m not sure.

Should I see him again? If you’ve gotten this far - you tell me.

So Bob( 34M ) is my( 26M ) coworker. Who is a little on the short side he is about 4ft and I of all people engage in banters with him most. He does too , he says vile things to everybody. So coming to the incident, we were gathered at our colleagues place on his birthday. everybody was having fun. I had too much of it and I cracked some short jokes directed at Bob. Party ended, I was too drunk to drive, so Bob was the one to give me a lift because he was the nearest to my house. As he was driving, I let myself free and told him that I was curious how big he is down there and does he need a ladder to fuck. He immediately gave it back to saying dont worry its big enough to make you squeal. Really then pull it out i wanna confirm it with my eyes. He laughed and said why should I whats in it for me , I blurted i will suck it if its more than 3 inches and laughed. He looked ahead and slyly said oh dont worry you will see.

We reached my place he parked and came with me to my apartment , I somehow managed to unlock the door and invited him in. He asked for water amd i went to kitchen brought him water and sat on couch beside him . He drank then whipped out his cock and stroked it as it grew he said i think thats more than 3 inches now come on do the honours. I was taken aback ,it was uncut , thick aroun 5 and Half inches. I told him I am man of my words and then grabbed his cock and began stroking , next thing he pushed my head on his cock , i opened my mouth and galloped his head , and began moving up and down his shaft , as i was slurping he told me roll my toungue as well, i obliged He let out a sigh and moan. Then i licked his balls as well.

After minutes of suckis he said “ let me show you how i fuck “. He told me lay on my stomach, i stripped and was completely naked and did as he said. HE then climbed on my back smacked my ass then pulled my cheeks apart , spit on my ring and started pushing his thumb which my ass welcomed with some difficulty.The he proceeded to Rub his dick on my anus and thrusted hard his tip enetred and i squealed he quoted “ didnt i tell” . He then began moving slow and with another thrust heis whole dick was in me , i squealed again, he laughed. He picked up pace , and was deep stroking . His entire shaft moved in and out while telling me this positin is called “prone bone “ . My room was filled with sound of his body slapping my ass and i was in pleause and moaning with each of his stroke. After few minutes cum splurted out of my dick. After many minutes later he strted grunting and came in my ass. His jizz leaked out. He then samcked my butt put his clothes and left. I slept on the couch.

I woke up next morning and realised what happened last night. I was a little sore. Then i showered ate and got ready for the office. In office at first i tried to avoid him. My colleagues noticed that I havent cracked any jokes at Bob yet. At lunch i recieved Bobs message to meet at fire exit stairs. I went and saw him pants down with his cock in his hand . I usderstood what he wants and I dropped on my knees and began sucking his cock , he grabbed my face and fucked my mouth i was drooling and gagging , then he pushed his cock down my throat and said here comes ur lunch and came in mouth. I swallowed most of it. From then on I have become is cumdump.

Everyone in this story is 18+

Growing up, I lived in a neighborhood that had quite a few kids who all were around the same age. We all used to hang out, boys and girls, especially in the summer when we were all out of school. Travis was one of those kids and he was a grade below me. I was 19 and he was 18. He was blonde and lanky and played basketball and baseball growing up. He was one of those stereotypical jock guys. I wasn’t ever that good at sports so we didn’t have much in common except being neighbors and being horny teens. I wasn’t out at all and i would watch straight porn with all the guys at this point in my life. I was definitely more enthralled at the idea of seeing real life cocks than what was happening on the tv screen.

My summer break between freshman and sophomore year of college, I was at my parents for the summer and working to save up more money for the new school year. Travis had just turned 18 and was about to start his senior year at the local high school. He would come over since he knew I had a porn stash. We would watch porn late at night and hang out and shoot the shit. It always ended up with jerking off. Sometimes together helping each other out, sometimes just ourselves but laying side by side on my bed.

After so many circle jerks and mutual jerk sessions. I decided to push it further. One night while my parents were working night shift, Travis was at the house and we were looking at porn. He said “damn I wish I knew what a blowjob felt like”. I casually said, ” if you give me $10 I’ll do it”. I figured if I did it for money it wouldn’t seem so gay. But I already knew I would definitely do it for free. He thought about it and let me just sit there with my heart beating so fast. I didn’t know which way this was gonna go. I was either gonna have a black eye or he was gonna let me blow him.

He shifted in his seat and grabbed his obvious bulge. He laid off his basketball shorts and said “alright man get to work”. I moved so fast and got on my knees in front of him. I could smell the precum dripping off his slit. I licked it up with my tongue and slowly pressed my lips on his head. He exhaled deeply and let out a sigh. “Fuck that feels amazing” he said. I let his cock slide down and I took it inch by inch. He was so hard and he had a noticeable curve upward. I was so hungry for his dick. I took him all the way down. He was average in length but damn I did not care how big it was. I was just so happy to have Travis, my neighbor since middle school, feeding me his dick. Who would have ever thought the neighborhood jock would be feeding me his dick.

I went to town on his hard dick. I bobbed up and down with purpose. I alternated deepthroating with double handed action and heavy suction on the head of his dick. The entire time he was oozing precum. To this day his is still the best tasting precum and cum I’ve ever had. It did not take very long for Travis to cum. Without warning, he flooded my mouth. I swallowed. I let a little bit of his cum linger on my tongue so I could savor the taste. Post nut clarity hit and he slapped a $10 bill on the table and left.

We went on that whole week like nothing happened. But once we watched porn like we always did, I just flat out reached for his dick and he pulled it out. That was the beginning of a few years of blowjobs for Travis. I loved servicing him and I swallowed so much of his cum that I still remember what it tasted like. He’s married with kids and we live far from each other. But I wonder if he ever thinks about our time. I sure do.

I M 31 went to a gay bathhouse for the first time ever. I was in the steam room and this guy was jerking next to me. He was masc probably 25 or 24. In walks this other masc guy younger looking. Looks at me and looks at the guy next to me. He bends over and starts sucking the guy next to me. Then next thing I know the guy is getting fucked. All the while I’m jerking off. The guy that was sitting next to me says he’s gonna cum and the guy he’s fucking says to load him up.

I love being cucked. My ex did to me all the time.

DMs open