Author: admin

This is a fictional story but many instances are inspired from my real life moments.Hope you enjoy it.

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Hey this is Karan and this is the story of me when I was 18 and how my stepbrother used me. When I was 18, I spent my high school summer holiday with my dad and stepmom. My stepmom owns a large apartment complex in North Carolina and hired he son Atharva to look after its maintenance. Atharva was 29, her youngest son. (My stepmom was more older than my dad). However, they didn’t pay Atharva, instead he was given an apartment in the complex. When I visited them, I got to know that her grandson Suyog(son of her elder son) is also visiting them. We both had to share a spare room with a single bed. As soon as he entered the room, he claimed the bed leaving me with the floor. he was kind of arrogant and I did not like it well. Although our age was almost same(he was 6 months older than me), our physique was very much different . I was 5’3, more slim not well built. He on the other hand was about 5’8, well built on muscles being a regular gym goer and was a football player .Also he came from a rich family and so had kind of arrogance through that. He did not look well on me. On our first meet, he told me I was gay when no one was around. I knew I was gay but how did he? Like did he also have an gaydar? I tried to ignore him but he became more chaotic once we were in our room. Whenever he used to come from shower, wrapped around towel, he would come at me, hold my head towards his crotch and rub across it. “I know you want my dick you fag, you just want man meat”. I would struggle  and then he would leave me. Our first week there was mostly helping Atharva in maintenance like cleaning in exchange for money. I would usually do all the work but we had to split the money obviously. I just became more annoyed by him till Saturday.

Sunday morning, no one was at home as dad and my stepmom had went to meet a friend leaving Suyog and me to sleep in. He wake up before me and went to shower. When he came out of shower, I was on my mattress on floor. He came near me and did the ritual of my face rubbed in his crotch. He was doing that and his towel fell and my face was pressed against his cock and balls. I was amazed by his hung cock and balls. They were biggg. Once it touched my face. It begin to grow hard .He instantly took the towel off the floor. I said, “Maybe you are gay too.”

“Shut up you faggot”, he said while wrapping his towel .He was little embarrassed and so wore his underwear through towel. When I went to shower, I was just thinking about his manhood. It was so big and those balls. Those 4 seconds when my face was shoved on his balls n cock were the best 4 seconds in this holiday. When I came out of shower, he was sitting on the bed wearing his re underwear and I was wrapped in a pink towel. He quickly said, “Oh, look pretty little girl is here”. I replied “leave me alone”. He stood from the bed and came in front of me and said, “well you saw my junk. Now I will see your junk” and with that he ripped my towel and stood naked in front of him. He looked at my cock and begin to laugh “that looks like a clit bro, not a cock. You are almost a woman”. 

I quickly bent down to grab a pair of briefs from my bag, but in my hurry, my ass touched his dick while picking up my bag. Instantly, he became aroused, and it was so uncomfortable for him that he had to pull the waistband away from his body to adjust. Once he settled it back in place, his large erection stretched across his body, reaching toward his left hip. The size of it caused the waistband and leg hole to be pulled away slightly, revealing a glimpse of the pink skin beneath. He looked himself in the mirror and asked me, “when is grandma 
coming back?” I replied, “They won’t be here till evening”. He pulled down his underwear and said to me, “Suck it bitch”. “What the hell, I am not sucking your cock”. He slapped me right across my face and I fell on floor, “listen bitch, You got it hard, now you take care of it. “I crawled from where I fell to him and took his cock in my hand, put it in my mouth and started to suck it. I pushed it into my throat and it made me gag. In few seconds, he closed his eyes and started to moan. He was pleasured so much that he did not look at my erection at all. Luckily he was an 18 year old and hence in a few minutes began to cum inside my
mouth. I gulped all of it down.

Once done, he sat on my chest, his cock almost on my mouth. “Don’t tell this to anybody, you fucking faggot”. I nodded my head and he stood up and went to shower again. After he went, I cum inside a tissue. To be honest, I loved it. After this, we did not interact much. It was mostly him calling me a girl or a fag, along with  comments about my mini dick and  ass slaps.

The next Thursday, my dad asked both of us to shift a cupboard from an apartment on 2nd floor. After we did that, he told us to go back and check if anything is left. We were sweating, especially Suyog, his t-shirt became wet from sweat. “I will check the kitchen , go check the bedroom if any thing is left.” The only thing I found was a porn magazine with hung men. I bought it to him to see. He snatched the magazine and saw the men. “Damn I have bigger cock than most of them”. Then he rolled up the magazine and gave me a quick smack in the crotch with it. I doubled over in pain, dropping to my knees. “See magazines 
can be used like this too” he continued laughing. I was in some pain until he unzipped his pants and said “since you are already on your knees, why don’t you take care of me. I was angry but his dick was so good that I just put my mouth on it and began making love to it. It was not hard so I had to make it hard by slopping on it. He was getting pleasured and loving it and suddenly a voice came from behind, “woah, you should start your only fans”. It was Atharva. He was 11 years older than me, his usual outfit would be oversized t-shirts, shorts, cap and flip flops. He liked to smoke pot and chill out with some friends. Since he was the main person in maintenance, almost all the people who were like plumbers, painters, electricians etc knew him. Suyog’s first words were, “Don’t tell granny”. “I won’t but let me watch” .

“You wanna see?”.

“Yupp, you both look hot together. Come on stepbro, take that cock and let in slide in  you”.

 Suyog’s cock had become soft but it instantly became hard as it slopped on it. Here on other side, Atharva put his hand inside his shorts and held his cock watching us. “Suyog wanted to show his dominance, “Yes fag suck on my man meat coz this is the best you are gonna get. Show your big brother that little clit you got.”

“yes, show me baby boy what you got.”

I undid my pants and underwear keeping his cock in my mouth. Atharva came near me and touched it with his feet. “Damn that is so small.” both started laughing. In no time, Suyog put white cum in my mouth. As he was putting up his pants, Atharva stepped up,” cmon bro, you made me hard too, I guess that is your duty now. I crawled to him and started to suck it and in few minutes his thick cum was in my mouth. “Damn little brother, you are soo good in sucking. Will be using you more. I guess my baby brother andI are gonna be really close.” He winked at me.

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Hope you have enjoyed the story. Part 2 coming soon. If you have any suggestions, drop them in the comment box and I will try to incorporate into the story.

Thank you💖Cum Well💦

An Evening with Alpha Mark in the Valley of Decision

The boys were in the large shower off my home gym where Ron was shaving Chris, removing even the slightest trace of hair from around his cock and balls, his taint, and asshole, and with it, the last remnants of his former self. While considered what needed to be discussed before I took Chris home. I knew transitioning his sense of self from eight hours ago to his new reality didn’t happen without causing confusion. Like Ron when we met, Chris was a natural sub. I was just the one lucky to find him.

When Ron led Chris back into the room, the only hint that the naked young man with the hairless crotch standing before me was the same confident, straight twenty-four-year-old I met earlier was that Bonerboy stood tall and proud and looked me in the eye. What pleased me so was that his hairless balls were drawn up tight, and his thick, six-inch cock that earned him his nickname was standing up hard, its foreskin retracted, snapping up every few seconds to slap its leaking head against his tummy where his treasure trail once was.

For the next twenty minutes or so, I sat with Chris curled up comfortably on the floor between my legs, his face resting against my balls and thigh, looking up at me while he sucked gently on my cock, opening his mouth only occasionally to ask a question. We discussed every aspect of his masturbatory habits. When he jerked off, where he liked to do that, and how. I explained that from then on, I would control him and his cock, and when, where, how, and how often he was allowed to masturbate and to have orgasms if he earned them.

When I told Chris that he would never again be allowed to masturbate without having a cock in his mouth, his tongue stopped tickling my dick for a second. I worried that I might have to discipline him. I hadn’t had Chris over my knees for a spanking yet, and I was looking forward to that. I had not fully formed the thought before his licker lifted and began to caress my cock again, even more slavishly than before.

While Chris, who along with his roommate, had only hours before been strutting around a popular Happy Hour bar cruising for women and thinking they might luck out and find some gay guy to pay to suck their dicks rested his cheek against my leg as he looked up into my eyes as he sucked on mine, I explained to him how he was going to help me put his roommate Mark in the same position. A couple of times, when he had questions, I had him open his mouth and extend his tongue for a cocklashing while I answered them.

When Blake introduced me to Chris and Mark, I instinctively sensed Mark to be the alpha of the two. In any group of males, there’s always an alpha, even among wimps and nerds. It’s just a matter of degree.

My fingers began to run through Chris’s hair as his lips gripped my shaft. The tip of his tongue started tickling the ultra-sensitive clit-like nub of flesh lucky men have on the undersides of their cocks just down from the heart-shaped cleft of the heads of their dicks. Being male, Chris knew about that and now that he was a cocksucker, he was showing off for me.

As I watched Chris’s handsome face bobbing and turning and corkscrewing up and down my shaft as his tongue power buffed the head of my cock within his warm wet mouth, I remembered the sight of his dark-haired roommate Mark sprawled out naked on Blake’s sofa with my friend sucking his long thick drool coated dick.

Laying back more than sitting on the couch, his clothing tossed carelessly aside, arms stretched out along the back of the sofa, his eyes closed, Mark looked like the alpha I had tagged him to be earlier in the evening. I couldn’t keep myself from squatting down next to Blake and encircling the twenty-five-year-old stud’s thick rigid cock tightly at its base with my thumb and forefinger like a dominating bone and flesh cockring and chucking teasingly, “I bet you’re in Heaven right now.”

As I hoped, pleasure drugged Mark’s eyes opened partially, and his face turned toward my voice before he gasped, “Fuck yeah, man, he’s fantastic.”

Hearing Mark’s words, Blake’s eyes opened, and he looked into mine as his drooling mouth lifted off Mark’s cock. With Mark and Blake both looking at me, my fingers squeezed Mark’s cock tighter, making every vein on its now whole wet circumcised length bulge and its big, bulging, throbbing, perfectly sculpted head turn a deep shade of purple. That elicited a deep, rumbling moan from within the depths of Mark’s being that I could almost feel through my fingers. Then I slapped Mark’s cock hard, and Blake immediately went back down on it.

My last words to Mark as I stood over him, gripping his left nipple with a thumb and index fingertip as he lay gasping and moaning and grinding his pelvis like a wanton slut desperate for relief, had been, “Maybe we can get together soon, Mark. I know some other things you might enjoy, too.”

As dawn broke over L.A., I dropped Chris off at an overpriced apartment complex in Studio City, where he and Mark lived. He was fully briefed on what I expected of him. He wouldn’t be masturbating that day. His always-horny cock was locked up in a clear, polycarbonate CB-6000 chastity cage. I preferred polycarbonate because of the ubiquitous security scanners everywhere nowadays. We would talk by phone that evening after he told Mark about his experience with me, or at least the version I wanted Mark to know.

I called Chris at the prearranged time. 

“Hello, Sir,” Chris greeted me upon answering my call.

“Good evening, Bonerboy. Are you adjusting to your cage?”

“Pretty much, Sir. It still feels weird.”

“It will for a while. You’ll get used to it. Have you had time to talk to Mark?” I inquired.

“Yes, Sir, some. I explained what you told me to. I think he understands.”

“Tell me what you told him. Take your time, and tell me exactly what you said.” I wanted to know what Mark knew, so I made no missteps.

“Yes, Sir. I told Mark I had a great time at your place last night. As you said, I did say you are a Dom and that we roleplayed. When he asked how much money I made, I told him you kept giving me fifties during the night, but when I had earned $250, we talked about why he and I were hustling. You said that since I was so good, you took the money back and said you would cover my full share of our rent shortage. I told him you want to meet him and that you’ll cover his part too if he is as good and eager to please as I am.”

That was not exactly what I had coached him to say, but it was close enough. My interest was more in Mark’s reaction.

“Has Mark seen your cage?

“No, Sir. We’re not naked in front of each other hardly at all.”

“What did Mark say when you told him all that?”

“Not a lot. He asked what we did, but you told me not to tell him you made me you’re your cock and Ron’s most of the night.”

A sure way to discourage a straight guy from playing is to tell him he’s going to be the cocksucker.

“Will you enjoy having Mark suck your cock, Bonerboy?”

“I never thought about that, Sir.”

“I didn’t ask if you ever thought about Mark sucking your cock.”

“Mark can be a dick sometimes. Yeah, yes, Sir, I’d like to have him suck my cock.”

“Good, because I’m going to have Mark practice his cocksucking skills on your always hard cock quite a lot before I allow him to suck mine. And, before that, he’s going to learn to suck on a big rubber cock you will buy tomorrow. But let’s get Mark in here now. I think it’s time for me to get to know Mr. Alpha. Once Mark joins me, you will leave.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll go and send him in now.”

“I’ll text you later. Now, send Mark in.”

I half expected a delay while Mark questioned Chris about our conversation, but to my surprise, he entered Chris’s bedroom almost immediately upon Bonerboy’s exit. Mark was coached on what to expect, so I wasn’t surprised when his eyes immediately focused on the laptop screen on Bonerboy’s desk.

“Hello, Mark, it’s good to see you again, and this time with your clothes on,” I welcomed him, smiling from the screen. “Although I do prefer you naked. Please pull a chair out into the middle of the floor, and let’s get it positioned so I can see all of you when you’re seated.”

I waited while the young alpha obediently did as instructed.

“Good boy. What sort of underwear do you have on, shorts, if any?” I asked.

Interestingly, there was no obvious reaction to the “Good boy” remark. I did see some confusion, which I attributed to the question about his underwear.

“Boxer briefs.”

“Strip down to them. Everything off, including your socks, and then sit down.” Again, said casually with a smile.

Now close to naked, sitting in the middle of Chris’s small bedroom and looking at me through the screen of his roommate’s laptop, Mark was beginning to lose the air of confident alpha superiority with which he entered.

“Chris told you what happened between us last night and what you should expect tonight, didn’t he, Mark?” I inquired in a way that required a response.

Hesitation followed by, “Ugh, yeah, he did.”

“I think he probably told you enough for you to know that was not the proper way to reply. Am I right, Mark?” Said with a smile and an almost friendly chuckle in my voice.

“Yes, you’re right, he did, Sir,” Admitted freely by a boy who, upon reflection, knows he has erred.

“Good! Splendid! We’ll have no more of that then?”

“No, Sir. I understand.”

“When I gripped your cock at Blake’s, and you looked into my eyes, I thought I saw something of great value in you, Mark, like a deep vein of gold that’s waiting for the right miner to come along. I like to mine that vein, and dig until I have extracted every ounce of gold down deep in you boy, if you want to.”

“Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Chris didn’t tell you I gave him quite a few fifty-dollar bills to take home that he will give you for each fifty you earn tonight. Does that sound okay to you?”

“Yes, Sir. May I ask a question?”

“Of course.”

“Chris said you told him after he had done enough to get $250, that because he was good for you, you would cover his share of our rent shortage. Was that right?”

“I told him that because he had indicated at that point that he was a good boy and would continue to be a good, obedient boy, I would do that, yes.” I wanted to be clear that there was a difference between what he said and what was.

“I see, I think. Your promise meant he had to commit to more of whatever you were doing. Is that right?” He is trying to nail this down, I thought.

“Mark, I think Chris told you I will make you the same offer. I think you will completely understand it when the time comes. Can we leave it at that?”

“Okay…yes, Sir. I’m just trying to understand.” Concern was written all over his attractive face.

“Mark, you’re used to always being in control, having the plan, issuing the orders, running the show. Right?” I asked still smiling and friendly.

I almost laughed when his entire posture changed as he sat upright him the chair and lifted his face to look directly at the screen, “Yes, Sir, that’s me.”

“Well Mark, that will remain you always, except when you are with me, or with my boy Ron. When you are with either of us, you, and Chris, will be obedient and eager to please. You will exist to please. Chris knows that. We are here to determine if you are prepared to learn that.” I did my best to lay it out matter-of-factly. Then, with a reassuring smile, “So far, you are doing fine.”

“You have the most attractive little rose-colored nipples, Mark,” I said suddenly in a total change of subject. “I’m sure no one has ever complimented you on them. I think they’re very nice. Tease them for me.”

The straight twenty-five-year-old sat there looking at the screen as if dumbstruck.

“I know. No one has ever told you to work your nipples before. Just reach up, take them between your thumbs and index fingertips, and roll them gently for me, Mark, and you’ll be on your way to the first fifty.” With an alpha, gentle but firm encouragement applied steadily over long, repeated sessions usually works well.

It took some time and a lot of verbal abuse, but eventually, Mark was leaning back in his chair with his long, muscled legs spread wide, his chin touching his collarbone as he looked into my eyes through the screen with his arms crossed on his chest as he tugged on, twisted and rolled his swollen nipples and thanked me repeatedly for allowing him to do so. I waited until the still-straight boy’s eyes were fully glazed before I told him to release one nip, reach down, and hook his boxer briefs waistband under his ballsack so his by-then hard cock could stand free.

With $150 now displayed in the top right corner of the laptop screen, I had Mark roll back on the chair, lift his knees to his chest, and slowly slide his boxer briefs down over his muscular, dimpled, hairless, lifted buttcheeks. Although the creamy half-moons were pressed together, even televised, their crack looked as tempting as I had imagined. It would take all my self-control not to take this would-be alpha before I plucked both his and Chris’s cherries with them side-by-side, which I dearly wanted to do.

Naked now, I ordered Mark to his knees and immediately had him begin to masturbate for me. He hesitated for a few seconds, but I stopped that.

“Look at yourself, naked…for ME, tits scarlet red from all the playing with them you’ve done…for ME, your big cock so hard it’s dancing…for ME, leaking…for ME. Now beat your meat for me boy, before I decide I’m done with you,” I commanded while looking directly into Mark’s eyes through the ether.

Naked, sitting back on his heels, his sculpted pecs thrust forward as if offering their now purplish nipples, and his pelvis and still hairy pubic mound up thrust as his fist began to pump his cock, Mark obeyed. The Number on the screen changed to $200.

A few minutes later, as the handsome straight roofer pressed his chest to the floor, clasped his hands in the small of his tightly arched back, and lifted his parted butt cheeks toward the screen for approval, he heard the man he was performing for say he was being a very good boy.

As Mark grouched on Chris’s bedroom floor, the door suddenly opened, and Chris, naked except for his cage, entered, startling Mark. His arrival was prompted by a text I sent. It was time to put in motion plans I discussed with Chris that morning during the drive to his apartment. In addition to the cage Chris wore, he had an identical cage with him that I hoped to have him place on Mark that evening.

“What the fuck!? Get out of here!” Mark exclaimed as Chris entered the room.

“Quiet down, Mark. I sent Chris a text ordering him here.” I almost shouted through the laptop.

“What? Why? Dude, this sucks!” Mark was angry, confused and not listening to what I was saying.

“Mark…quiet down. Listen to what I have to say. Sit. Be quiet. Chris, kneel,” I tried simple commands.

The boys exchanged words, which seemed to calm Mark. With Mark seated, his cock now soft, and Chris kneeling beside the chair, I explained to Mark the arrangement I offered Chris. I said there were things Chris and I had done together that Mark and I had not yet done, but I suspected he was intelligent and worldly enough to figure out what those were. I had him look at the cage Chris wore, and one he brought into the room, and I explained what they meant. If he agreed to join Chris as my boy, he simply had to ask me to cage his cock.

“I want to get off.” It was a statement with a tinge of plea.

“Were you asking me to allow you to cum?” He must have no doubt about what was taking place.

“I need to cum now.”

“Your big cock isn’t even hard. Maybe if you get hard and decide what you want, I might allow you to cum before Chris locks your cock up for the night,” A reassuring smile of encouragement.

I do enjoy a naked straight man on his knees stroking his cock for me.

“Yes, I want the arrangement. I understand what you expect. I’ve never done what I think you’ll want me to do.”

He still thinks this is a negotiation. That’s fine. More the fun.

“Excellent! Now beat your meat and fill your palm with as much baby batter as you can milk out of your big balls, Mark. Go on, boy, stroke your big cock for me,” I encouraged my new sub.

Mark obeyed. His fist began to pump. At first, he looked down at his hard and growing dick as his hand flayed it then his handsome face lifted to look directly at me through the screen. Chris stood nearby mesmerized by Mark’s rapidly jacking fist. I sent Chris a text and hesitantly at first, but then with confidence almost bordering on glee, he joined me in abusing the masturbating former alpha with a barrage of sexually degrading verbal assaults, all of which seemed to drive Mark to greater heights.

When I knew Mark had reached a level where the pending explosion would produce an enormous amount of jizz, I ordered him to cum for me. When he didn’t do so instantly, I shouted my demand at him, leaving no doubt that he had no choice but to obey, and he did…directly into his free palm as I had instructed him earlier not to forget to do.

The first blast of cum appeared as a solid continuous white rope that extended from the tip of Mark’s big cockhead in a long thick arcing stream down to his open palm. It looked too solid even to be cum. The second explosive belch of baby batter up from his balls followed instantly and duplicated the first, except it flew even further, splashing all over his palm and fingers. The third and fourth wads were big, thick burps of jizzz that gushed out and plopped down into the puddle on Mark’s filling palm with audible wetness. More cum spewed until he was drained.

Exhausted, his heart racing, and his lungs sucking in and expelling air like those of a champion racehorse, Mark did not complain or struggle when Chris, following my instructions, lifted Mark’s cum-filled hand to the still orgasmic sub’s parted lips and tilted his open palm.

“Mark, look at me,” I ordered, suddenly dragging the former alpha up out of his bliss so his eyes, still not fully focused, looked toward the screen. “Lick up all that nectar.”

Chris held Mark’s hand tilted so the outer edge of his cum-filled palm rested against his lower lip as Mark, and I looked into each other’s eyes over the edge of his thumb. As I smiled at my new boy warmly, his tongue licked and lapped, and a few times his lips pursed, and he sucked at his cummy palm until all his tasty cum was in his belly.

 

Later, as I watched, Chris locked up Mark’s junk. I looked forward to tomorrow night when my two new subs would visit.

Aliens had come to Earth in the year 2100, having found one of our wandering space probes. These were local aliens in our  quiet,obscure corner of the Milky Way-not any of the dominant ruling alien races.

We had little to offer them being a primitive race. Our seafood was a rare delicacy on some planets. Our art and music  were not of interest-except to collectors of  really primitive artifacts.

The one thing we had that was unique was our inventive sex practices.

Most aliens only got sexually aroused for reproduction, periodically, by sensory or tactile signals. They found, accidently that humans could be powerful sexual stimulants, and were  available any time.

Since that was all we had that interested the aliens-the UN set up the Interstellar Sex Corps.-to trade hot sex to the aliens for older alien technology;(their current technology ws incomprehensible).

It had to be a team approach as some of the aliens were large.

Several small alien embassies from local star systems were established, and as word got out-Earth developed large private sex resorts for other aliens. Earth became  a sex resort for certain local mammalian races.

This is the story of Lance and Zelda two UN Sex agents. An alien had stolen the Mona Lisa, and they were directed by their boss to get it back.

They had been on a leave of absence together and had to go through brief retraining before starting the case.

Agents sexually handling  aliens had to be physically strong. Both men and women were biologically enhanced-seven ft. tall, bulging with muscles-different skins colors as multi racial-with green hair(an alien preference).

The women’s huge breasts gave narcotic milk and they had huge vaginas for many of the aliens had large sexual appendages;(they also used large internal condoms when sexually working)-asAlien sexsjuices could be corrosive.

The Men also had huge deep surgically enhanced asses and aldo used in-ass plastic  condoms. 

The men had Bio-tech three foot cocks about a foot in thickness,used condoms, and could wear inflatable  cock sheaths  for larger alien asses. 

Extra musculature supported the huge cock and balls..and the cum was a mild narcotic also.

The pair worked in transparent survival suits-w/helmets,gloves,air supply,etc..

due to the possible toxic nature of their tasks.

So one sunny day,y Lance and Zelda reported for retraining at a military base outside  Phoenix Arizona;(the aliens preferred the less Earthplant-toxic desert for their little embassies).

They had to have their periodic checkout to make sure all sex reflexes were still able to operate in the alien sex high stress environment.

Zelda was taken into one ‘operating’ room by a  team of female new surgically enhanced UN sex cadets. 

Lance was escorted into another room by the dozen Male sex cadets. 

He was on his sex meds-huge cock hard and sexually erect, as were all the cadets.

He laid down on the Y-shaped sex table, legs slightly elevated,head hanging down somewhat. 

Cadets trained on each other after sex surgery. so things went swiftly.

Cadets stood around his body and before he knew it his huge ass hole was being fucked-his enlarged mouth and throat was being fucked- his huge  sensitized nipples were being sucked and he was jerking off a large cock with each of his oversize hands. 

As soon as one cadet had fucked him and shot a load, they would be replaced by another and then that one  would go up to fuck his mouth. 

The two or three orally inclined cadets were lined up and sucking him off. 

They were experts, as late at night in the barracks, guys would be lined up for a ‘quickie’ before bed.

Many times, due to their expert synchronizations, Lance would cum as the guys fucking his mouth and ass both came.

The men had a busy sex training schedule that day and the hour went by fast. 

The  lieutenant in charge of the cadets came in, also fucked Lance’s ass and mouth and then, satisfied, approved him for  his next mission.

The orally inclined cadets took Lance to the shower, washed him, and sucked another load out of him,(while one rimmed him with an orally enhanced foot long tongue), and then dried him off.

He dressed-and then Zelda, all flushed and rosy, came out of her room and  joined him-looking clean and refreshed by her less arduous workout by the female cadets.

*******

It’s the friday night after the sex training and Lance is back at his comfortable Phoenix apartment-in a complex of mainly UN Sex workers.

The phone rings and it’s Don, a  billionaire friend, who lives a couple miles away in a complex of huge estates.

He had agreed to another periodic party at Don’s, in his honor.

“Sorry Don”, he said, “I forgot. I was on vacation and just got back. I’m free tonight Send the limo around.”

UN male sex workers  are paid good salaries, but can almost double their income by going to gay fan club meetings. The bosses look the other way, and everybody’s happy.

Don is president of the Phoenix fan club and it’s always held at his home.

It’s an easy gig-go by, strip down, have a few drinks and let the fans suck and lick him all over for a couple hours-and the money is great.

Lance goes out to the limo in a long shirt to conceal his massive tool, and in loose shorts.

The limo takes him to Don’s large desert mansion, fifteen minutes away.

In five minutes, he’s at the pool party, nude, glass of wine in his hand and his huge cock sexually activated. He has a few sips of wine and lays down on a luxurious padded massage table with a pillow. His host Don, an inshape 50’s older dad type, helps him lay down, and starts  sucking and kissing the huge head of his three foot cock.

Others are crowding each other, to suck and lick the huge balls, suck the large, sensitive nipples, and sucking and licking his massive muscles and down his hard belly. 

He’s seven ft. ft.tall and it’s  like being sucked and licked  by a bunch of midgets.

After a while he gets up for another drink-then just stands there being sucked and licked and stroked all over.

Finally, he jerks off into a  gold, gem-encrusted cup for Dontheand the dozen or so middle aged gays all get a sip of his narcotic cum.

That starts a big, nude orgy-every body fucking and sucking in a frenzy.

Lance get a bottle of cold white wine, and a glass,and goes over to a corner of the pool and sits in a huge padded chair built especially for him-sits down, spreads his legs and  and lets his huge dick and grapefruit-sized balls hang down.

He relaxes with a few wines-a live sex video going on in front of him.

Guys team up to suck,lick and massage the massive three ft. dick-with several at a time sucking and licking the massive balls.

An hour or so later, the orgy is in full blast- a bunch of young muscular guys, kept in reserve, (and sucking each other in another room), have come in about twenty minutes ago.

Don, the host, has the one with the best body and biggest cock-(and his teeth out)-has the guy’s cock all the way down his throat.

Lance, having put in his two hours plus hours, stands up, get sucked and licked some more, and feeling a feeble attempt at rimming his huge ass-gets dressed and goes  out to the garage.

Bill, the masculine inshape limo, driver is having a beer and having his thick 8″dick being sucked on by two muscular twinks. He stands up mouthfucks the blonde twinks mouth two or three times, and and shoots his load;(which the twinks share)-and says,”Ready to go Big Boy?”

He and Lance are out in the garage, in the car, and Bill says, ‘let me see the Big Gun”.

Lance pulls it out, half deflated, and Bill leans over and sucks and licks the huge head on the cock for four to five minutes. “Thanks buddy”, Bill says.

*******

The next morning, a Saturday, Lance and Zelda are back at the UN quarters on the U.S. military base.

There ‘s a quick briefing by the lieutenant who had fucked Lance the day before, and approved Lance for the mission..

Lt. Jones had kept his bio-tech enhanced cock, ass and mouth, as he still did occasional sensitive missions. 

He was not yet one of the ‘decommissioned’, put on a desk job.

“Lance and Zelda”, he said, “we have a minor,but important mission.

An alien has stolen the Mona Lisa from the Louvre, and the French are raising hell with with us to get it back.

It’s  those wacky hippo Harriri-the whole race are ‘pack rats’ and thieves.-fanatic collectors of primitive arts and crafts.,,

Ask your Ai chip about them for background information.”

“One of them was at the  Louvre at closing time-the Mona Lisa went missing-the alien was searched but nothing found”.

“Anyway, the Harriri are having a sex party tonight at their run-down embassy, and you are going as sex slaves of an Oboi friend of mine-Ambassador Nulum.

The Oboi are small,extremely intelligent  naked mini-pigs-love to be fucked, due to their ass being near the sex organs- and Lance you might have to give the Ambassador a couple of ‘treats’ with your big cock tonight. He’s easy to please.

You can’t wear your protective suits, but have your external and internal protective condoms with you”.

It’s seven o’clock and they all arrive at the Harriri embassy, basically a small mansion.

Nulum is rosy all over from being vigorously fucked twice by Lance’s huge tool.

Lance and Zelda are in baggy tops and baggy shorts to conceal the tools of their trade.

They have hats on for the more lethal objects. They are leashed with silver slave chains held by Nulum.

The door opens-Ambassador Nulum is expected, and additional sex slaves are welcome.

The mansion is spacious-little furniture,well used carpeting, and carpeted sex pits  all over the floor.

Nulum takes them over to an alcove, removes their chains, wishes them good luck and leaves looking for other sex partners. The Oboi are toothless and great suckers and always appreciated.

Lance says, “let’s split up and look in a couple rooms, and meet back her in twenty minutes”. Zelda agrees and they go off in different directions.

Twenty minutes later, Lance is back and Zelda quickly arrives, pursued by a hopping Kangaroo type alien, with large intelligent eyes, and a very thick cock, half erect. 

He takes one look at them and veers off in another direction.

“I’ve got a lead”, Lance said,” I just met a small,shy Harriri and asked about Anlo the Harriri who was at the Louvre. He said nothing just looked at me. So I  offered to fuck him and he was agreeable. 

“You know they look like hippos, but Selo was a sort of a really small hippo.

Anyway, I got him really excited-moaning and groaning, and as I was fucking furiously, he just blurted ‘I’m not supposed to say anything’;(that’s what my translator said).

Then he said, “There’s a disgraced Harriri down in the basement”.

So I finished fucking him, leaving him gasping with pleasure.

Let’s go and see if this disgraced Harriri is the one we seek”.

“Sounds great”, said Zelda. “By the way, I almost feel into one of those hippo sex pits.

and I couldn’t get rid of that Kangeroo character-who wanted to fuck me with that big dick. 

I said no, but every time I did, his Cock twitched”.

Lance and Zelda discreetly look around for the door to the basement quarters.

Then they  ran into Selo, Lance’s recent Harriri sex buddy. 

Lance promised him another stimulating fuck,so he showed them the way downstairs- and he went part to the way with them-and pointed out the door to go through-but then wouldn’t go further.,.

There was a multi-species bathroom nearby and Lance told Zelda to wait,and he and Selo went in. 

He came out  ten minutes later and said, “Selo is still feeling the after- effects. I’m beginning to like those hippo asses”.  He wiped the sweat off his brow, and they approach the designated door.

*******

Lance and Zelda went through the door into the comfortably furnished room and there was a slightly larger version of Selo. 

Lance said, “are you Anlo? 

We’re sex slaves sent down for your enjoyment”.

The intelligent, round hippo-like face looked up at him and nodded slowly-and gave a snort of pleasure. Then he lifted his ass partly off the bed.

Lance whispered to Zelda to go and give him a lot of the narcotic breast milk-to knock him out-while he  searched the room.

Zelda went up and offered her huge muscular firm breasts, and Anlo sucked contentedly and soon passed out.

When Anlo was drugged and unconscious, Lance searched under the bed, and the one closet and shelves. There were some surplus, colorful party bags from upstairs but the room was basically empty.

Lance consulted his Ai chip…Is there anything unusual about the Hariri?

“Yes”, said the Ai, “they are one of the few herbivore species to have two ass holes”.

One is for excretion, the other for  storage of roots and grasses when foraging.

Lance put on his  condom and bent over-yes there were two very large  holes-and both  an easy fit for his  huge tool.

He fucked Anlo’s left hole slowly and thoroughly, plunging his huge cock in deeply-to make sure the Hariri was totally unconscious; (and also to give him some pleasure). Then he  put a condom on his long, muscular right arm and fist-fucked the other  wider and very flexible hole-(but a very short  ass hole passage)-(that had to be the root storage area).

It was empty of roots, but held a padded package.

He gently but firmly pulled out the not very wide package…Amlo groaning and snorting  as he did so. 

He immedialtely started gently fucking Amlo again, and  the Hariri settled back down, softly groaning with pleasure..

He knew from his Ai chip that the Mona Lisa was only twenty one inches wide, and this seemed that dimension. 

With his surgical steel fingernails, he ripped part of the package open and could see paint on the edge of a small narrow wooden board-about two feet long and well padded

He motioned a thumbs up to Zelda(, gave Amlo a dozen long hard fucks to make sure he was still out;(almost shooting his load in the process)-pulled out, and put the used condom away.

He ran to Zelda. They grabbed one of the party bags, stuffed in the painting, and with their augmented muscles were up the stairs and out of the basement door in a couple seconds-(making sure no one was around).

As they went by a bathroom, Ambassador Nulum came out. 

They told him of retrieving the UN item-and Lance said he didn’t want to spoil the ambassador’s party visit-but if they could leave immediately, he would

be available for sex that night at the ambassador’s house.

That got the ambassadors attention at once-he nodded yes-put the  silver slave chains on them, and they Immediately all went out the front door to the limo. 

No one noticed them them leaving, as the sex party was in full swing.

And staff were only there to keep unwanted people from coming in.

Zelda and the painting were dropped at the UN compound at the Base, and the ambassador took Lance back to his luxurious mansion.

They had some drinks and fortifying  drugs. 

Nulum called up four friends and invited them over for one of his  little sex gatherings.

It wasn’t every day that  people had sex with one of the UN’s enhanced humans with their huge cocks. He was giving his friends a treat.

Lance, fuelled  by liquor and drugs had no trouble in first fucking Nulum, and then his  plump pig-like friends-with their small, plump asses, but large, sensitive ass holes.

There was much loud squealings of pleasure for a few hours, as each pig-like alien got multiple extremely pleasurable fucks-between drinks and drug vapors. 

They loved to suck also, and Lance’s sensitive nipples, cock head and huge balls, got many a deep but pleasurable swinish suck

Nulum gave Lance a large, pig-sized solid gold friendship bracelet-the limo took him home-and Lance realized he now had another rich patron.

He got home, fell into bed and  had a great, relaxed sleep.

Disclaimer: This story contains depictions of sexual violence, homophobic slurs, nonconsensual sexual acts, and other situations that readers may find offensive and/or triggering. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Do not read this story if you are under the age of 18. All characters depicted in sexual acts are over the age of 18.

---

Gage was watching the game with his buddy while his wife and kids were out shopping. They were shooting the shit during a break when a fast food commercial came on. It was one of those nostalgic, awkwardly sexual ones with barely legal teens unhinging their jaws like snakes so they could take a bite out of a one pound slab of beef between buns big enough that it could feed an entire village.

Gage threw wood.

He was wearing dark shorts and the lighting was soft in the den, so he didn’t bother hiding it. He should’ve known better. Connor never missed anything.

His buddy raised his dark blond brows, smirking and glancing meaningfully at his crotch then back to his face. “Christ, man. Are you hard up?”

Gage groaned, half in embarrassment and half out of frustration that his cock was under the impression that any attention was good attention. Any progress it had made on the journey to deflation during the sad animal shelter commercial was erased as his lonely prick perked up. 

Gage let his head fall back against the couch in defeat before he tilted his head to the side to face his neighbor. “You have no fucking idea how bad it’s been over here. Rain only puts out when she wants another baby.” Which was almost a year ago.

Connor pinned Gage with an inscrutable look, and Gage squirmed. “What?”

“You telling me you never get any side action?” Connor’s tone, while not accusatory, conveyed doubt.

Gage hesitated. “Not since the baby was born,” he admitted.

“Three months?” Connor whistled. “I’d be losing my mind.”

No shit. “Tanya putting out?” Gage asked, but it sounded annoyed even to his own ears.

Connor grinned wolfishly, blue eyes glinting with amusement. “Everybody wants a piece.” Gage didn’t doubt that. “Few things are better than pushing into a tight wet hole. Hearing those sweet little gasps and moans, whining and begging for more. Desperate for me. Wanting to please me.”

Gage shivered at the imagery. He wasn’t picturing Tanya on her knees, though. He imagined opening wide and worshiping Connor’s cock. Choking on it.

Gage swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth and pressed a palm to his groin. “Yeah, I like that, too,” he rasped.

“Go ahead and rub it,” suggested Connor.

Blinking in surprise, Gage looked down at Connor’s crotch then back up at his face. It was then that he realized that Connor was not, in fact, suggesting Gage service him, but telling him to touch himself. Whoops.

Gage squeezed his dick, then rubbed his palm over his erection, unable to break Connor’s gaze. While he wasn’t a stranger to jerking off with the boys, Connor didn’t seem the type; however, he appeared unaffected by the turn in events that he was orchestrating.

“Take it out.” Connor’s voice was smooth as silk.

As he unbuttoned his fly and yanked down his zipper, Gage wondered if this was what it was like to be put under hypnosis, equal parts eager and dissociative. He was lightheaded, though that could have been due to the redirection of blood flow.

Gage reached into his briefs and tugged out his fat six incher attached to moderately sized balls. It wasn’t the prettiest dick, more of a brute, with veins appearing blue and close to the surface of his pale skin, framed in a thatch of well maintained dark brown pubes. Always ready for guests despite the dry spell.

Gage’s cheeks burned and he looked up at Connor, seeking approval. Connor’s features–handsome in a nineties heartthrob sort of way–were impassive, simply observing Gage like he was a specimen in an experiment. Gage’s cock spasmed and released a bead of precum, much to his chagrin. 

He resisted the urge to stroke himself, instinct telling him he was not allowed.

“Not bad at following directions,” Connor mused quietly, almost to himself, as he appraised Gage. 

Shame flooded him and his hands clenched into fists, thighs tensing with the effort it took to resist stroking himself. Connor tracked the movement and his lips quirked wickedly. “Strip.”

Gage made haste, kicking off his shorts, underwear, and shoes all in one go while he pulled his shirt over his head. He discarded the items and awaited further instructions.

“Knees.”

Gage sank to his knees, finding the smooth, rich timbre of his neighbor impossible to resist–not that he wanted to. Gage was panting like he’d gone for a run, naked abs flexing with discomfort and anticipation. He wanted Connor to touch him. He needed it. And he wanted to touch. He wanted to see the tanned and chiseled body his buddy was hiding under the loose T-shirt and jeans he wore, wanted to tangle his fingers in his hair, left unstyled on his day off. He wanted to bend over for him and let his rectum milk his cock for all it was worth.

Connor crooked two long fingers, and Gage obediently crawled between the taller man’s spread thighs, feeling exposed in more ways than one as his nipples pebbled in the cool room.

“Good boy,” Connor murmured, and Gage fought a full body shudder at the simple praise. He’d snuck glimpses of the larger man’s cock over the years: swimsuit clinging to it after the pool, showing every ridge and vein; at the urinals, squeezing out the last drop of piss before giving it a shake, even giving it a firm stroke once or twice. It was hard to miss even under clothes given its generous size. Now that Gage had a front row seat, sitting pretty at the man’s feet, his mouth was watering and he was nearly feral with need. “You see something you want?”

Gage nodded, reluctantly dragging his gaze from the bulge to look into Connor’s amused eyes. There was a flicker of dark promise there. “Yes.”

“Take it,” Connor prompted. It was the same tone he used with his kids when he was encouraging them to do something they weren’t sure of. It was both infantilizing and exhilarating.

Gage didn’t have it in him to play coy. He reached for Connor’s belt with shaking hands, unbuckling it before setting to work on his fly. Connor lifted his hips, allowing Gage to pull his black jeans and boxer briefs down just enough to free his cock.

Gage gasped. “Oh, shit.”

It was just as beautiful and formidable as he had anticipated, if not more. It was at least nine inches in length, girthy enough to provide a challenge. A little more pigmented than the rest of his golden skin, it hung heavy and proud framed by trimmed, dark blond pubes. Not quite fully erect but getting there. Unlike Gage, who very well might blow without touching himself. Still, it was gratifying to know that Connor was into it.

Connor’s lips curled in a sensual smirk. He looked like a king upon his throne, arms slung around the back of the couch like he had not a care in the world. Not showing off but not hiding, either, he allowed Gage to stare his fill, stroking him reverently, the skin silky soft over the hard as steel organ. The foreskin stretched tight, cock veiny and hot and alive and so fucking big.

“Can I suck it?” Gage asked, eyes imploring.

“Since you asked so politely,” Connor purred.

Gage was determined to make this good, to get Connor hooked so that Gage got to suck him again and again. He’d wanted it for so long.

Connor’s chest rumbled with a pleased hum. When Gage glanced up, he was both turned on and pissed to find that Connor had gone back to watching the game. Gage persisted, increasing the suction and tugging at Connor’s sizable sack, pressing a finger into his taint and massaging the skin there.

As if he sensed his determination, Connor looked down at Gage with a raised brow. Condescending amusement was not Gage’s goal, but he found the attention gratifying in a way.

“It amazes me that you have everyone around you convinced you’re straight,” drawled Connor. “When you’re so blatantly obsessed with cock.”

Gage slowed his movements, glancing up at Connor questioningly.

“The way you look at men,” he clarified. “The way you carry yourself, like you’re projecting to every male in a fifty foot radius that you’re ready to be mounted in the nearest bathroom or back alley.”

Gage couldn’t argue with that, nor did he want to. What he did want was for Connor to fuck his ass and treat him like the slut he was accusing him of being.

“I bet you’d be happy taking loads all day long,” Connor continued, jutting his hips up on the downstroke, lodging his cock an extra inch in Gage’s throat. Gage fought back a gag. “You want your pussy bred.”

Gage hummed in agreement. He did want that. Desperately.

“I’d be surprised if that oversized clit you call a dick is capable of shooting anything but blanks,” Connor added. “With those microscopic balls.

Gage groaned, no longer using his hands, just obediently holding still while Connor fucked his throat and degraded him. This was like his hasty public restroom hookups times a thousand. Connor was so affable a majority of the time, he never expected him to be such an asshole during sex. Gage was a sucker for it.

He was almost certain that he misheard the next words.

“Are you sure that Scarlett is even yours? She looks a lot like me…”

Wait, what?

Gage tried to pull off of Connor’s cock, but Connor grabbed the back of his head and thrust his hips, pounding into Gage’s mouth with enough force that his balls slapped his chin audibly, though it was lost over the sound of Gage’s violent gagging, spitting up throat slime and snot.

Gage shoved at Connor, attempting to free himself from his grasp, only getting far enough to dislodge Connor’s nearly ten inches from his mouth. He dry heaved and gasped for air, feeling weak in a way that only puking one’s guts out or taking a throat fucking can. For a second he was worried he would pass out, but consciousness came back to him just in time for him to be fully aware when Connor smacked him across the face. The resulting crack was absorbed by the soundproofing in the den’s walls. 

Gage realized in a moment of clarity that he was well and truly alone with a version of Connor he’d never met before. This was not the same friend that picked the kids up from school when Rain was sick, took Gage to Vegas on his thirtieth birthday, the man who always showed up for him when he was in a bind. No, this person who was smacking him around and telling him his daughter wasn’t his was a stranger.

Connor hit Gage again, this time hard enough that he lost his balance, only staying upright because of the hold Connor had on his hair and the fact that he was squeezed between his sturdy legs. His cheek burned and his ear was ringing, leaving him dazed.

“Fuck you!” Gage rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re fucking my wife?”

Connor laughed, and what a horrible sound it was, as beautiful and joyful as it was cruel and condescending. It became obvious in that moment that Connor delighted in inflicting pain.

“That’s what you’re focused on? Tell me, what bothers you more: the fact that your wife cheated on you with your best friend or that your best friend fucked her instead of you?”

Gage launched himself at Connor, swinging on him. They grappled, naked cocks bumping together, grunting and growling as they both got in hits. 

When Connor finally pinned him, Gage was belly down, exhausted, and unable to break his hold.

“Scarlett was a preemie, right? A month and a half early? How strange that she was eight pounds with zero complications. Did it ever occur to you that Rain found out she was pregnant then scrambled to get your tiny cock inside her so you wouldn’t find out she’d been cheating?”

Gage cried weakly, pressed into the carpet by Connor’s heavy body, unable to escape the malicious words rasped in his ear like a lover, the carpet chafing against his skin, or the threatening weight of the thick cock prodding at his tight, dry hole. Any dissociation he’d been feeling before was a fraction of this out of body experience, facing his own helplessness and the fucked up insinuation that his kid wasn’t biologically his. It seemed impossible that his sweet baby girl belonged to this sick, sadistic bastard.

Connor continued taunting him and grinding his meat between Gage’s clenched ass cheeks. Gage squirmed, trying to keep the head from catching on his rim, but Connor was too big, too patient, too practiced. 

“Meghan has pretty blue eyes and blond hair, too,” Connor said, then nibbled on his earlobe. Gage moaned pitifully. “She doesn’t look much like you at all.”

“No!” Gage screamed, but he was no longer sure what he was protesting.

“It’s okay, the oldest is yours…probably…” Connor chuckled. His cock prodded Gage’s anus again and this time it breached, stretching his hole without the assistance of lube. Gage squeezed his eyes shut against tears, grunting and breathing hard, trying to relax as Connor used his cock like a battering ram, opening him up against his will. “You know why your wife doesn’t have sex with you, Gage? It’s because you’re not a man, you’re just a faggot with a pussy. That tiny cock is for decoration. 

“Rain needs someone to breed her, knock her up, and you—“ He snapped his hips forward, and Gage cried out, the burn unbearable. “ —don’t have the right equipment. It’s only nature.” 

It was almost worse when Connor yanked his cock free, slapped both big hands down on Gage’s fat ass, and pried his cheeks apart. The humiliation was no longer turning him on; his erection deflated entirely.

Connor hocked a glob of spit at his ass lewdly and Gage squeaked in surprise. Connor spread the spit with the head of his cock, the slide a welcome reprieve. Connor hocked another glob of spit, then he pushed back in even further than before, to Gage’s dismay–he thought he was fully seated before, but now he could feel the press of Connor’s balls against his taint, the belt buckle against his ass. Gage gasped, trying to relax, knowing Connor wouldn’t let him adjust for long.

Connor made a strangled sound, a mix of pain and pleasure, and Gage felt a surge of satisfaction that it probably felt like Gage’s ass was trying to tear Connor’s cock off at the root and gobble it up.

“Hungry little hole,” Connor muttered approvingly, and Gage felt a sudden rush of shame when he glanced back and realized Connor was staring at Gage’s sphincter nibbling at his rod. “You’re gonna be shitting blood for a few days, princess.”

“Fuck you!” Gage tried to growl, but it came out as more of a sob.

Gage had never had to suffer the indignity of being raped, nor face the deep sense of betrayal when it was at the hands of someone he considered a family. That’s without the added humiliation that the person had secretly impregnated his wife and made him raise someone else’s children. Knowing that he was a cock lover the whole time and doing nothing about it. Taunting him. 

Laughing at him the whole time.

Connor pulled out of Gage abruptly and flipped him onto his back, shoving back inside. Gage cried out, refusing to acknowledge that Connor was pegging his prostate with precision, causing blood to flow back into his chode.

Connor smirked down at the sorry sight Gage made, covered in snot and tears and drool, bruises and carpet burn everywhere. 

Connor grabbed his jaw, prying it open, and he spat, the sound obscene as it landed at the back of Gage’s throat where he was forced to swallow or choke. Then he slapped his face affectionately—not to be confused with gentleness—and continued to plow him, never once losing rhythm. 

Gage was used to quick fucks in random, semi public places, taking it up the ass with his hands braced on a wall or divider in a bathroom stall, back arched while a stranger rutted into him until they spilled their seed, sometimes jerking him off and sometimes leaving him to his own devices. 

This…this was a different experience entirely. The intimacy of being forced to stare his rapist in the eyes, watch his amusement at his subjugation in real time, fully clothed.

It wasn’t until Connor wrapped his fingers around Gage’s cock, making it look small and pale in his large, tan hand, that Gage realized he wasn’t even being held down anymore. That his legs were wrapped around Connor’s trim waist, not letting him pull out entirely, knowing that Connor could free himself if he really wanted to. It was a reminder that Gage had no control, even when he wasn’t being physically restrained. And he was disgusted with himself.

Connor pressed his palms against the backs of Gage’s thighs, hooking his legs over his shoulders and folding him like a pretzel, using the new angle to slam into Gage harder and faster. Not a person but a receptacle for his cum. 

“Gonna knock you up next,” Connor growled, eyes crazed, blue eyes more pupil than iris, losing his previous aloofness. “Gonna fill you up with my babies until you’re nice and round. You and your wife can have my kids at the same time. I’ll breed you both over and over…” 

It was too much.

Gage screamed as he came, exploding all over his torso, neck, even hitting his face and hair. Connor followed him over the edge, hips stuttering, then he was slamming into Gage’s abused hole furiously, filling it with his hot baby batter.

When Gage finally came around, Connor was behind him, coaxing him into standing. His hole felt like it was on fire and too empty at the same time. Uncomfortably wet.

“C’mon, get up,” Connor murmured.

Gage ignored him, staring at the ceiling. Hoping he’d wake up soon and it would all be a dream. 

Connor grabbed him by the hair, gentler than before, but his scalp was so sensitive from the abuse that he hissed. “Get up. Now.”

Gage debated fighting him again, but he was exhausted. In the end, he knew he would go with Connor one way or another, so he chose the least violent option and allowed himself to be pulled up and supported as Connor led him upstairs. 

As if he needed proof of the cheating, Connor navigated the second floor, which he should have only seen a couple of times over the years, expertly.

Connor propped Gage on the bathroom counter, turning on the water and adjusting the temperature before he went back to retrieve him. He sat him down on the shower bench under the warm water, then surprised him by stripping and stepping in. Gage got his first look at Connor’s naked body, a different experience from seeing him in swim trunks. The man was carved from marble, all hard lines and curved muscle. His cock, now soft, was still formidable where it hung over an intimidatingly large sack. Gage found that the inadequacy he felt about his manhood given the earlier revelation about the paternity of his children was distant in the face of such a beautiful, monstrous thing.

Connor hosed Gage down with the detachable shower head, then he poured body wash onto a sponge and scrubbed his skin methodically, taking extra care with his genitals and tender asshole. Then he got on his knees and washed his feet, getting between his toes, focused intently on his task.

Inexplicably, Gage felt his eyes well with tears, heart seizing with unnamed emotions. Connor didn’t handle him with care, nor did he look particularly soft, but he was grooming Gage. Caring for him. He even shampooed and conditioned his hair and used a face wash on him like he was at the barber or something. 

Connor took a fraction of the time washing himself off, then he turned off the water. He disappeared for a moment then returned already dried off with a towel around his hips and another in his hand. He dried Gage off then wrapped him in a bath sheet and guided him to the bedroom.

After the bizarre caretaking that Gage could only assume was so Connor could wash away evidence, he was surprised when Connor crawled into bed with him and used lotion all over his body, spending extra time on his tight traps then his feet and calves. 

Slowly, for better or worse, Gage was returning to his body.

Connor covered him with the blanket and Gage felt sad when he left, his mind retreating back into itself. 

He was drifting off when he felt the bed dip again. Connor had reappeared with delivery from their favorite sandwich shop, and Gage suddenly realized he was ravenous.

“Sip this,” Connor ordered, and Gage felt a sliver of warmth as he took the Gatorade from his hands. The man was being more stern than he’d ever seen him, but also more nurturing (besides, of course, when he was with his kids.)

“Why are you doing this?” Gage asked warily, exchanging the beverage for the plate Connor had put his food on.

Connor had turned on the TV and was using the Roku–notably already connected to his phone, which confirmed whether or not he’d spent time in his marital bed before–when he replied, “You’re mine.” As if that explained everything.

“I’m not yours. We’re not even friends anymore. You’re—“ he cut himself off when Connor leveled him with a dark look.

“You’re mine, and I take care of what is mine. Now eat.”

Gage ate his meal without complaint. Connor took the plate from him when he was done, asking if he needed more food. When Gage said no, he was only a little alarmed when Connor pushed him to lay down, getting under the covers next to him and spooning him from behind. Coaxing Gage to use his bicep as a pillow, and caging him in with a heavy arm slung over his torso.

Connor had ruined everything that day. Except this, the snuggling, was kind of nice.

Gage just wasn’t sure if being raped by his—now former—best friend was worth it. 

---

The next time Gage opened his eyes, it was nighttime and the TV was turned off. The room was dark except for the sliver of light coming from the nightlight in the bathroom. He wasn’t alone in the king size bed, but instead of an overbearing masculine presence, he was laying next to a small woman.

Had it been a dream?

The soreness emanating from his entire body, particularly his asshole, scalp, and face, told him no. 

What a disappointment it was to fall asleep next to a Greek god like Connor and wake up next to the gold digging whore he’d married.

“Rain?”

“Mm?” came a sleepy reply. 

“How long was I out?”

“Seven hours,” she said with a delicate snort, sounding more alert. “Connor said you had too much to drink.”

Anger ignited in his veins. “Connor’s a lying sack of shit.” 

Rain turned over to give him an incredulous look that he felt more than saw. “What?”

“How long have you been fucking him?”

She scoffed. “Wow. I think you’re still drunk.” She flopped back down on the mattress.

“I’m not drunk!” he snapped. “Were you ever gonna tell me that Scarlett and Meghan aren’t mine?”

Rain gasped. “Why would you say that?”

“They look just like him,” Gage spat, grief stabbing a hole in his chest like a knife. “You cheating whore. Do you spread your legs for anyone, or is it just my friends?

Rain didn’t respond, just turned her back to him, which pissed him off, but the fury didn’t hit him until she sniffled pathetically.

She was fucking crying.

Indignant, Gage found he had no words. He went up to his knees, still naked as the day he was born, though he felt powerful and in his element. Masculine–dominant, even.

“Stop crying, bitch,” he snarled. 

He had never spoken to the mother of his children—well, child—that way before, and she immediately stopped crying. He wasn’t sure if it was due to fear or shock or perhaps both. Gage knew he was above average in height and unusually muscular, and he often tried to make himself appear less intimidating in front of women, not wanting to make them uncomfortable, and that included his own wife. Hell, maybe that was why she walked all over him, stepped out on him.

Connor didn’t do a damn thing to minimize his presence, except maybe hide the fact that he was a psychopath.

Fuck that shit.

“Spread your legs,” Gage ordered.

Rain tensed. Gage anticipated her next move, jumping off of the bed in tandem and intercepting her when she made a beeline for the bedroom door. He grabbed her around the waist, hauling her back towards the bed, and she screamed. Gage clapped a hand over her mouth and growled, “Shut the fuck up unless you want to scare our kids.”

He couldn’t seem to remember that at least one of them wasn’t genetically his, and every time he was reminded of that fact, it fueled his rage–which in turn fueled his lust.

Rain stopped screaming but didn’t go down easily. They grappled, and the sounds coming from her were animalistic. She was fighting for her life, and Gage could swear that the fear he scented on the air was arousing him further. He threw her on the bed, then tackled her when she tried to get back up, pinning her to the mattress while she writhed and grunted.

Her efforts were laughably weak and his cock plumped up. He ground his erection against her belly and she sucked in, pressing herself further into the mattress, shrinking back in disgust. Good.

He flipped her on her stomach and yanked her shorts down. His mouth was dry from dehydration, so he grabbed lube, squirting it on his cock while he kept his knees on the backs of her thighs, hand pinning her wrists at her lower back. Then, with the dexterity of someone who’d been playing sports his whole life, he managed to spear into her vagina without losing his balance or grip.

Rain fought the intrusion at first but gave up when he didn’t budge an inch. She wept openly, and Gage, despite understanding on a visceral level the helplessness and defeat she was currently feeling, couldn’t find it in himself to feel guilty as he began to hammer into her like a beast in rut whose only goal was to dominate and breed.

“You worthless fucking whore,” Gage snarled as he pounded her pussy. Gage, who had known he was a fag since he was gang banged in college and called it a ‘religious experience,’ had never been more fired up for pussy. He wanted nothing more than to plug up his wife with sperm and impregnate the slut with his babies. “You’re gonna give me a baby, one that’s actually fucking mine. You’re nothing but a hole, an incubator. You are worthless. I should keep you chained to a breeding bench until I knock you up, let you out only to put you back in nine months.

“You’ve never had a job, the nanny raises the kids, and you never have to put out. You must think you hit the lottery. You must think you’re so–fucking–clever.” His movements became more deliberate as he worked himself into a deeper rage. He wanted to hurt her like she hurt him. “Living here rent free. Spreading your legs for my friends. Who else are you letting breed you? Should I worry about another baby daddy?”

Gage tried not to think about how fast he came after he realized that another man could be making a fool of him, not just Connor. If there was another baby daddy, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Connor already knew about him.

After he got his nut, he rolled off of her, slapping her ass in thanks to add to the humiliation, and not hating how it jiggled. He might prefer men, but it wasn’t a hardship to get it up for his trophy wife or the few women he’d fucked in the past. In looks alone, Gage had the hottest wife in the neighborhood–maybe a close second behind Connor’s wife, Tanya–and when she wasn’t being a cheating bitch, she could be smart and a good mother, too. 

Gage drifted off to memories of warm, calloused hands rubbing soothing circles into his skin, of stubble scraping the nape of his neck, and soft lips pressing comforting kisses into his hair.

---

Gage woke up to the baby crying. He turned off the monitor and stumbled out of bed, pulling on a pair of sleep shorts so he could check on her.

He’d been worried that finding out the paternity of one of his kids would change the love he felt for her, but when he walked in to see his fussy baby girl, his heart filled with the same all encompassing adoration as always. 

He decided that if Connor or Rain ever tried to take his kids from him, he would gladly kill them both.

“Hi, baby,” Gage cooed, picking Scarlett up gently and sitting in the rocking chair. She nuzzled into the bare skin of his neck, and happy tears filled his eyes. “I am so lucky to have you,” he whispered. He hoped she never doubted it.

Later, when he went back to the primary bedroom, he found Rain still curled up in the same position she’d been in when he’d finished dumping his load in her hours before, panties halfway down her smooth thighs and shirt rucked up to her breasts.

Gage didn’t feel guilty.

He went to the ensuite bathroom and wetted a washcloth so he could clean her up. He lifted her out of the wet spot and put down a towel in case she rolled over in her sleep.

When he curled himself around her, spooning her for the first time in years, she went completely rigid. When she realized a) he wasn’t going to let her go and b) he had no intentions of hurting her again, she began to relax incrementally until she eventually melted against him. It wasn’t trust so much as complete exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” Rain whispered into the dark.

Gage mulled her apology over for a few minutes before he broke the silence again. “Why?”

She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know. He just…it was like…I had no choice.”

“Rape?” he asked dubiously.

“Charisma,” she responded despondently.

The next morning, my alarm went off bright and early. My muscles throbbed, each movement sending sharp jolts of pain through my body, a constant reminder of the brutal night before. Every step felt like wading through thick mud, my body weighed down by an invisible force, the soreness clinging to my bones like a second skin…. “Ouch,” I muttered to myself as I shifted, trying to get out of bed. I had a full day of classes ahead, and there was no time to waste.

I had to bury what happened and get to class. I ignored the pain and put on the essentials, making a mad dash out the door with supplies in hand, heading toward campus.

The day was uneventful, but pieces of last night surfaced during the day. I felt like shit—I was confused, and the feelings scared me.

I got to my character design class 2, which was my last class of the day. It started promptly at 5 p.m. and ended at 9 p.m.

My instructor was Aresh. He was from India but had worked for several studios before coming to teach here.

Aresh loved telling us about India; he really loved his country. Unfortunately, he had refused to marry a young woman and had been banished for dishonoring his family—or at least that’s what I gathered from the story he shared with us. Something about an arranged marriage that went terribly wrong.

He was slim and in great shape, he loved running and you could easily find him on the track making laps. , or admiring the many hiking pictures on his office board—he’d been to Nevada, Washington, Florida, Arizona, Texas, Utah, and Colorado.

“Art?” Aresh called me over to his desk as the first assignment presentations were taking place. “Yes, sir?” I replied as I walked up to his desk.

“The Dean, Russ, has asked that you meet him at his office,” he said, his face shadowed with concern. “He doesn’t want you back in class until you come see him.”

“Is everything alright? Tuition? Academically?” I asked, trying to figure out what could be wrong.

“No, not that I know of,” I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach as I went back to my desk and packed up my things. I headed out toward the Dean’s office, my mind racing with possibilities.

“Hello, Mary,” I said as I entered the administrative office.

“Hello, Art. I’m glad you’re here; now I can leave,” she said, smiling as she picked up the phone and spoke with Dean Russ. “He’s here… okay, perfect. Do you need me to stay? No problem, and thank you, I will.”

“Dean Russ will be right out for you,” she said as she grabbed her purse and binders and locked the door behind her.

I heard the heavy steps of Dean Russ before I could even see him. Dean Russ was a 40-year-old ex-military man, straight to the point and no-nonsense. He was a big guy—6’2″ of muscle—and he took pride in his appearance. “A healthy body is a healthy mind,” I’d heard him say as he tried to sign up the guys on campus for boot camp workouts.

He had several connections with media studios, thanks to friendships he’d made with executives back in his youth.

“Hello there, young man,” his voice boomed as he approached.

“Hello, sir,” I replied.

“Dean Russ will do it for now,” he corrected me as I stood up to follow him to his office.

“Take a seat,” he commanded, and I obeyed. “One second, let me get some paperwork,” he said as he moved around, looking for something.

His office was huge, with several war books like “The Planes of WW2,” “Weapons of War,” and “The Art of War.” He also had books about bodybuilding, nothing surprising there.

The jewel of his office was a massive, imposing desk, its dark wood polished to a sinister gleam. The feet were carved into menacing claws gripping a ball, as if they could spring to life at any moment and trap whatever dared approach. The desk dominated the room, a silent witness to countless fates decided behind its solid, unforgiving surface.

“Okay, let’s get started,” he said as he came around and sat at his desk. “What can you tell me about this?” He handed me large 11×17 photocopies.

“My stomach twisted into a tight knot as I stared at the drawings, each one a brutal reminder of my humiliation. Shawn’s sketches weren’t just images—they were my nightmare captured in stark black and white, the evidence of my shame laid bare. My breath caught in my throat, my hands trembling as I held the pages that held the power to ruin me.

I gulped as I checked the other drawings. The first showed my face sucking on something, with a tear rolling down my cheek. The second drawing had me with my arms and legs stretched out, my cock leaning against my leg and my balls hanging low. The next drawing showed an overweight person standing while I was on my knees sucking cock. My breath became short as fear gripped me. The final drawing was a cock clearly shoved into a huge round ass—my ass.

“Shit,” I whispered in fear.

“Is there anything you need to tell me, son?” Dean Russ asked, his eyes boring into my face and soul.

“Uhm, well, what happened was—” he cut me off.

“You’re just another guy who craves cock” he said sternly.

“No, I’m not gay! We were all drunk, and I—”

Dean Russ cut me off again. “It wasn’t a question,” he said, His gaze raked over me, filled with disdain. “You’re a fag, and you love dick.”

I was in stunned silence.

He got up and then leaned on the table near me. “I’ve seen you around campus. I had you pegged as a ladies’ man,” he said, looking away into the distance.

I was staring down at his desk, unable to gather my thoughts.

“I’m over here, son,” he said. I looked up to meet his gaze, the strong face of a strong man. His blue eyes and thick eyebrows framed his disappointment.

“I know you’re in college, and that makes you an adult,” he paused, “to do and be who you really are,” he paused again, “away from family.” He looked across the office and away from me. “But this is unacceptable.” He grabbed the copies and crumpled them up in his hand before tossing them into the trash

“Did you know the email with these scans had your full name on it?” He smirked. “Not hard to figure out it was you,” he paused as I wanted to fade away. “So what should I call you? Art, Arturo, or Ponyboy?”

I was breathing hard, looking down at my shaking hands.

“You’re in deep shit,” he said, smiling. All I could do was look at him in silence.

“I’ve already talked to Shawn and made arrangements. He’ll be out of classes for the next week, and when he returns, he’ll be busy around campus doing manual work,” he paused with a devilish smile. “He agreed quickly once I told him his mother might be interested in knowing where her hard-earned college money was going.”

‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘Shawn is so fucking stupid. How could he do this?’

“So, this is what I’m going to do with you,” he said. I was lost in my thoughts, full of regret and shame.

I heard the faint sound of a zipper, and my heart dropped. Fear coursed through my veins as I looked over to see a thick, hairy cock right in my face. My mind raced, searching for an escape, but all I could think about was the power Dean Russ held over my future. He could ruin everything—my dreams, my career. 

“Suck it,” he growled, the command cutting through the air like a whip. My stomach twisted as the words hit me, and the acrid taste of bile rose in my throat. His rough hand tightened in my hair, the sharp pull forcing my head down. The scent of sweat and musk filled my nostrils, suffocating me as his body heat pressed against my face, leaving me no choice but to obey.

“Aarrg,” I managed to sound off. As his cock pushed past my lips, my stomach churned with disgust. But beneath the revulsion, my body responded in a way that horrified me—an involuntary throb of arousal at the raw physicality of it. I wanted to recoil, but I was frozen in place, trapped between loathing and lust.”

“This is what’s going to happen, son. You’ll obey my every demand, or you’ll have no future” he said as he began to shove his cock deeper into my mouth.

“It’s gonna work out for everyone,” he said with a smile. “I’m not getting pussy at home,” he said. “Bitch says I’m too rough,” anger flashing across his face, “but your faggotty ass loves dick,” and he smiled. “Everybody wins.”

Now on your knees,” he commanded. A part of me screamed to resist, to fight back, but I felt utterly helpless. This man held all the cards—my education, my career, my entire future. The thought of my parents’ disappointment, of losing everything I’d worked so hard for, paralyzed me. With trembling legs, I got off the chair and knelt before him, not because I wanted to—I’m not gay—but because I knew one wrong move, one word of defiance, could destroy me.

“My mind screamed to resist, to push him away and run, but a darker, quieter part of me stirred with something else—an urge to obey, to submit, to feel his control. It was as if my body was betraying me, leaning into the power that Dean Russ wielded over me.”

“You need to learn to worship this cock,” he said as I gobbled down his hairy dick and sucked hard.

“Fucker, you’re a natural,” he grunted in pleasure. I was screaming in my head. I was angry—no, I was furious!

Dean Russ grabbed my hair, yanking my head forward as he roughly fucked my mouth. My mind was a whirlwind of anger and shame, yet beneath it all was the chilling realization that I was trapped. I wanted to scream, to push him away, but what would that accomplish? He had the power to make or break me, and deep down, I knew this was my only option. I held onto the tops of his legs to steady myself, forcing my body to comply as my thoughts spiraled.

His breathing was rapid now, and he was talking to me like I was a cheap whore. “That’s it, faggot,” “Faggot loves dick,” “Deeper, faggot,” “Show me what a good faggot you are,” “Faggot like the view?”

Every time Dean Russ slammed into me, “Pain shot through me with every thrust, but with it came something else—a sickening, confusing pleasure that twisted in my gut. I wanted it to stop, yet some twisted part of me craved the roughness, the force of his desire.”

What the hell was I thinking? Shit, I was fucked up.

“Aaaa yes, faggot, you fucking know how to work a dick alright,” he grunted in pleasure as I kept slobbering and jerking his cock.

the memories of Shawn and Micheal giving me a hard fucking on both ends crept in—their grunting, my grunting as they pushed my limits and stretched my holes—sent blood rushing to my cock.

“Here it comes, faggot,” Dean Russ yelled, his voice booming out into the small space, his body shaking as my blowjob sent him over the edge. “Arrhhhhg, arrhhg, arrrgh,” I choked as three massive loads of cum were shot down my throat. “Swallow every last drop, faggot.” I kept sucking and jerking, making sure I got every last drop I could squeeze out of him, his body shaking, his hands firmly gripping my hair.

He yanked himself out with a brutal force that left my jaw aching, then casually reached for a tissue from his desk. The sound of the tissue tearing from the box was harsh in the stillness of the room, and I watched, dazed and humiliated, as he wiped his dick clean with a detached efficiency, discarding the crumpled tissue without a second thought. 

I was still on my knees, leaning against his desk. What was I gonna do? How could I get out of this?

“Good job, faggot. What time is your next class?” he asked.

“My next class is on Monday,” I said, catching my breath. “Monday at 10 a.m.”

He looked me over with his usual stoic expression.

“Excellent. From now on, faggot, you will report one hour before every class to my office,” he said, smiling.

“Dean Russ, I’m not a—” he interrupted me.

“You’re not a what? A faggot? A homo? A cocksucker?” Each word struck me like a blow, tearing at the fragile sense of self I had left. As he pulled me up to my feet, his words echoed in my mind, and I couldn’t help but question—was this who I was? I’d always been straight, right? But here I was, submitting to this man’s every demand, my identity unraveling with every humiliating command. I flinched as he knelt in front of me, smirking as he undid my belt and pulled my pants down, each movement a twisted confirmation of the labels he’d thrown at me.

My cock jumped out fully engorged. My face blushed red. How the hell was this happening? Why was I so fucking horny?

Dean Russ stood up, grabbed my hard cock, and then, using his left hand, raised my face to meet his stare. “Explain this, faggot,” he challenged as he gave my hard cock a good squeeze, making me moan in surprise. I had nothing to say; I just looked down in defeat.

“From now on, faggot, you will wear only white jockstraps. Is that clear?” I nodded my head as he handed me some cash. “I’m sure you have lots of thongs and bikinis, but as my personal faggot, you will only wear those under your clothes,” he smiled coldly. “Is that clear, faggot?” His voice was menacing.

“Yes, Dean Russ,” I replied.

“Good boy,” he said, patting me on the head. I was still standing there, cock out, when he moved back behind his desk and sat in his chair.

“Well, you might as well take care of that,” he pointed at my erect cock. his voice full of insult. I was going to open my mouth to say something when he boomed, “NOW!”

I moved forward—what choice did I have? “Take everything off and get on top of the fucking table,” he yelled, looking at me with a mix of lust and disgust.

“My skin crawled with shame, but a darker thrill coursed through me as I felt his eyes on me, watching every movement. I hated myself for it, but the idea of being watched, of being forced to perform, sent a shiver of excitement through my core.”

I did as I was told. I took my clothes off, got on the table on my knees, and began to jerk off. It was embarrassing; other than with Shawn and Michael, I’d never done this with anyone else, much less in front of my school dean.

I spit into my hand, the wet sound echoing unnaturally in the oppressive silence of the room. The saliva felt cold and slimy against my skin as I smeared it onto my dick, each motion sending  shivers through my body. 

I thought, the faster I get through this, the faster it will be over. I began to jerk off hard, then slowed it down, then jerked while pulling on my nuts. I was squeezing hard, pulling on my cock, getting closer and closer to the finish line.

Dean Russ was looking at me as I writhed, putting on my own personal show for him, the look of satisfaction all over his face.

“Mmmm,” I moaned as I felt the first shivers of a coming climax. “Yes, faggot, that’s how it’s done,” Dean Russ encouraged me as I jerked, pulled, and bounced on my knees. My sight narrowed as I grunted through my throat, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Ass up, face down as you finish, faggot!” I was so close. I immediately flipped over, opening my legs wide to give Dean Russ a clear view of my ass. I lowered my face to his desk in a hurry as I felt I might explode.

“Every fiber of my being screamed to pull back from the edge, but the rush of pleasure was unstoppable. the closer I got, the more I craved the release, as if it would somehow free me from the shame—even though I knew it would only make it worse.”

“Aaaaaaa,” I moaned as the first glob of hot, wet cum shot out. “That’s how you do it, faggot. Keep jerking for me,” he ordered. “Oh shiiiiiiiiit!” I yelled as the second spurt of cum came flying out at the same time that Dean Russ stuck his finger deep in my hole. The third spurt came as my mouth opened in shock. I felt his finger settle in my hole, my body jerking and squeezing around it.

“Good job, faggot,” he said as I was breathing hard, trying to catch my breath. I was still face down, ass up, when he pulled his finger out of my ass.

I was open and exposed. Dean Russ was feeling me up, running his hands over my ass, squeezing it, exploring the folds of my hole, and then pulling my balls backward, making me moan again.

He then came around the desk, pulling my face up by my hair. I winced in pain as I came off the desk and met his face. “You’re going to make a great slut for me, faggot,” he said. 

I couldn’t say anything; I was in turmoil. “Who’s a faggot?” he asked, and I knew what he wanted to hear. It was about being in control, and he had me. There was no way out. I wasn’t gay, but I had no choice. “I’m a faggot,” I replied in defeat.

He let go of my hair and moved back behind his desk, sitting once again. I got off the desk and moved toward my clothes. “No, faggot,” he said, pulling open his drawer and taking out a sheer white pair of shorts.

“You’re leaving with this on and only this.” Is this fucking real? I thought. Anyone looking at me in the right light will see everything. “Hurry, the class is ending soon,” he said with a smile. Shit, I thought, my classmates will see me on the way out.

I pulled on the white shorts and put my clothes in my backpack.

Dean Russ was already at the door, ready to walk me down the hall and out the front door.

We walked in silence, and when we got to the door, he gave my neck a good squeeze. “See you Monday, faggot,” he whispered, and I nodded in agreement and walked out.

As soon as I was out of view, I made a mad dash to the apartment. I ran through some backstreets, avoiding the hungry looks as the sheer white shorts left nothing to the imagination—one could clearly see my cock and balls bouncing as I ran for dear life. I met the judging eyes of others as I walked into the apartment parking lot, heart racing. 

I was out of breath… I was afraid and confused. A white-hot rage boiled within me, seething just beneath the surface. 

July in Scotland is a wayward mistress. Some days fair and warm, sun dappling the fields and inviting everyone to believe they can go about without wool sweaters. And then, sometimes overnight, cold, wet air blows down from the North, or from the ocean, and the birds huddle amongst the branches and fires are lit in the houses.

Stuart arrived early one morning in a brand new motorcar that he reported later to be white, but was spattered all over with mud, as was Stuart. And so was the man with him. Michael walked out of the house and could not tell who it was that was pulling a case out of the boot since they were wearing odd goggles – speckled with mud – and a cap. Stuart ran over to him, throwing his arms around him, and kissing his cheek.

“I can’t tell you how nice it is to get out of Edinburgh. It’s beastly. Thank-you for having me…well, us…I hope you don’t mind.” He glanced behind him guiltily and the man had taken off his goggles and who Michael was face to face with was Marcus. Who was smiling at him in a way that was very confusing: half happily, half guiltily.

“Hello, Michael. Do you mind…?”

Michael, the product of a few generations of privilege and what his mother called “effective breeding”, was nothing but polite and even, he thought to himself, gracious. He was aware that John had come out and was standing beside him looking anything but gracious. Michael turned to him, knowing John well enough to say, “Please. Just let’s wait to see what this is about before you go on the attack.”

John gave a half-laugh, half-snort and turned and walked into the house.

Stuart, ever the diplomat, said, “Oh, John. He’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Michael turned to Marcus and extended his hand as if he hadn’t met the man before. “Hello Marcus. Welcome to my house.”

“I’m please…that I am welcome.”

Michael played the officious host and got them settled into rooms, showed them around the place, and just before lunch was to be served – upstairs, since these were guests – Marcus pulled him aside in the hall and said, “Michael, I know this is odd for me to be here at all, but Stuart is very persuasive and I have had a rather enlightening time since last I saw you. I will say this much and we can talk later, but I know I was beastly to you, a right cow as my gran would say, and I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Michael listened with surprise and not a little skepticism, but the look on Marcus’ face was convincing and he felt himself melt and relent. “Yes, Marcus. I do. I’m very happy to hear this. I was concerned for you. Yes, later we can talk more.”

They had a cheerful lunch and Michael was struck that he hadn’t eaten upstairs in some time and quite liked it. John seemed confused at what was going on, but was polite and didn’t say very much.

He managed to stop him after the meal and they stood in the back stairs. Michael took John’s hand and said, “Marcus has seen the error of his ways, I suppose you could say, and has apologized for being so awful to me last term. He seems to have had a revelation or something. I really feel he has changed. I hope you can be civil to him.”

John’s face softened and he kissed Michael. “I was merely protecting you, Michael. I do see he is not the same man as before, so I’m looking forward to meeting this new Marcus.”

Michael smiled and felt relieved and kissed him back. He had always found their difficult conversations made him feel very sexual and he couldn’t help but slide his hand across John’s trousers, feeling him get hard. “Michael McLaren, what have I told you about fondling me where everyone can see?” But he seemed delighted.

At dinner they drank a good deal of wine and sat by the windows that opened on the the meadow behind the house. The air was fresh and cool, but comfortable. Stuart, having had more wine than the others, was dozing in his chair. Marcus gave him a nudge and said, “You might fine your bed more comfortable.”

Stuart mumbled and rose and with a formal bow said, “I will retire to my chambers.” He stumbled off.

Marcus, laughing, looked at the other two with a little trepidation. “I wanted to talk with you so I am glad Stuart has gone. I want to apologize to both of you. For my…ridiculous behaviour. I broke it off with Sarah as soon as term ended and I suppose I wandered in the wilderness for a few weeks feeling wretched.

He cleared his throat and took a sip of his whiskey. “And I had an experience that…well I suppose it woke me up.”

John, smiling a little wickedly, asked “Oh? Tell us the tale.”

Looking a little guilty he said, “Do you really want to hear?”

Michael looked at John, then back at Marcus. “I think we do.”

He looked into his glass and then drained it, putting it on a little table next to him. John reached for the decanter and poured a good deal in. “I was walking by the sea near the old castle one night, feeling very low. I mean, I very briefly considered walking into the sea…don’t be alarmed. It was just a passing fancy. I stood looking at the waves when I head a voice beside me.”

He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He took another large swallow of his whiskey. “It was a man – I think I recognized him from school – who said it was a nice evening. I agreed with him and he wondered why I was standing out there all by myself. I knew in that moment what he was about and I found myself smiling at him. Well…perhaps you can guess the rest.”

Michael cleared his throat feeling – to his surprise – excited. “Perhaps we can guess, but I for one would like to hear more.”

Marcus looked at him and, seeing the grin on Michael’s face, smiled back, and he seemed to relax. He set his glass down again and settled himself into the chair. “We smiled at each other and then I felt his hand stroking me. Like this.” And Marcus rubbed his hand along the front of his trousers. Not just showing what the man did, but actually doing it and Michael was certain he saw that things were happening in Marcus’ trousers.

“He got on his knees and unfastened them, and he pulled out my cock. Like this.” Michael, somewhat amazed at how brazen Marcus was being, watched as he unbuttoned himself and pulled out his rigid cock, just letting it sit there. Then Marcus said, a wry smile on his face, “I wonder if we three can resume where we left off.”

Hearing him laugh, Michael looked at John who smiled at both of them in turn. He stood up. “That is a grand idea, Marcus. Come upstairs…we will be more comfortable.” Shyly, Marcus followed them out of the room and up the big stairs.

Once they were in their room, John sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. Michael sat beside him and Marcus, not sure what to do, stood uncertainly. John said “Why don’t you sit between us?” He slid to one side and Marcus sat down between them. “Now finish the story. I want to know how it ends.” John was almost laughing.

With a little smile, Marcus continued, beginning to stroke himself as his cock was exposed and again, and to Michael, looked harder and damp. “The boy sucked me and licked my balls, and sucked me some more. He was very good at it.” Marcus’ hand was moving a little faster.

John seemed to seize the moment. He got off the bed and on to his knees in front of Marcus and licked his cock from top to bottom, then looked up at Marcus. “Is that how he did it?”

“Yes, but he also…”

His words were stopped by Michael’s mouth on his and they kissed and Michael felt Marcus’ tongue quickly join his and realized he had almost missed Marcus. Not that it changed his feelings about what he was building with John. Marcus opened his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. At the same time, John pulled his trousers to the floor and Marcus was naked, his cock wet and throbbing. Michael stood up and pulled his trousers off, opening his own shirt and then pulled himself over John so he was sitting in Marcus’ lap, his buttocks right over his cock which Marcus began to rub over his balls, over his hole.

Michael heard John get up and he knew he was getting the little bottle of oil which he handed to Marcus. Michael realized John had pulled his clothes off and was sitting beside Marcus, his hand on his cock, stroking. Michael sat down and Marcus, his hand slippery with oil, massaged it into him, his fingers beginning to explore. He felt the head of Marcus cock slide in slowly, past the tightness of muscle then more easily as Michael relaxed into him, lowering his body until he buttocks met Marcus’ legs. He began to flex his thighs so he could push himself down, then up on the length of him. He shut his eyes, feeling himself almost split two.

Michael realized that John was standing and his cock was near his mouth, near Marcus’ mouth, and they seemed to understand and they both began to lick John’s cock, alternating sucking it and licking around the base, their lips meeting at the head which they both tried to kiss, rubbing their lips hungrily on it. John began to moan and held both of their heads to him.

Michael realized his thighs were getting tired and he lifted off Marcus. He moved further up the bed and lay down exposing his hole which was now almost gaping from the thickness of Marcus. Marcus got between his legs and slid into him again, this time looking down at his face. Michael was struck again by how handsome this man was and he pulled Marcus’ fact to his, meeting his lips. He felt John close again, then felt John’s cock sliding between their lips, tasting John’s salt and musk. John seemed to be trying fuck their lips and his hips were jerking forward and Michael knew he was close to something, and sure enough, John held their faces to his cock which exploded with a rush of seed that covered their lips and outstretched tongues and they both lapped it up alternating with kisses and exploration of each other’s mouths that were swirling with John’s spunk.

Marcus was also pushing even harder into Michael, and once they had swallowed, he leaned back, just watching Michael as he fucked him and Michael felt it was a kind of apology since they had fucked like this before, but now it was as if Marcus was asking for forgiveness. Michael smiled up at him and watched Marcus’ face become more and more intent, his thrusts becoming faster and desperate. All at once, Marcus groaned and shuddered and slowed his pace. He leaned forward and kissed Michael once more.

John was sitting beside them and he gently pushed Marcus off Michael, who watched Marcus’ cock slide out of him. He wasn’t sure what John was going to do until he saw John get up onto him and positioned his ass over his cock which was burnished and throbbing and he sank down in one move so that Michael was deep inside him. John said, “Take me, Michael. Take me from below. I want to watch your face while you fuck me.”

Michael was struck by the energy in John’s voice, the force of his command. So he followed his orders and began to hike his hips up into John, feeling his length go deep in his body. Primed by Marcus, he knew he was not long to explode and so he did, a few more jerking thrusts upward and his whole body became a little wild and he felt his body empty into John, pouring upward and gripped John’s hips for traction until his body calmed. John leaned down to kiss him, and their tongues played a lazy game.

Finally, John pulled himself off Michael’s cock leaving it wet and still hard. Marcus leaned close and took it in his mouth, seeming to savour the taste of Michael and of John. He pulled off Michael’s cock and lay back against the head of the bed, breathing heavily. Then he said, “Am I forgiven?”

Michael burst with laughter. “Of course you are. You just took me and I let you, so yes. You are forgiven.”

They dozed in bed for a little while, then Michael was aware that Marcus left the bed and watched him in the sputtering candlelight find his clothes and with a look at Michael that seemed warm and calm, left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

He heard John’s voice. “He seems quite himself again.”

“I would say so!” And Michael laughed, kissing John’s chin, his cheek and then his lips, very softly. They settled into each other, something they were getting good at, and they both drifted off to sleep.

—

The next day, He and Stuart went for a walk in the park around the house and Michael felt very happy to have his friend there at last. He wanted to share the place. Stuart seemed excited – as always – and at one point he shyly looked at Michael, stopping by a hedgerow beyond which stood a herd of long-haired cattle, chewing in the sun.

“I found myself wondering…do you think Marcus…I mean…do you suppose he would be interesting in the likes of Stuart?”

Michael was struck by the thought which he had not entertained before. “Only you can discover this. Have you ever had a talk with him? Or felt he might be looking your way?”

“Oh, you know Marcus. It’s hard to tell what he feels about anything.”

He wondered if he would say something about the night previous, but decided to keep it to himself. But he thought how Marcus was, and how almost free he seemed. “Stuart, I have a feeling that now would be a good time to declare yourself. In this world we aren’t give many opportunities for this, for men like us so I think you should take the risk while you can.”

Stuart gazed fondly at him, then they continued walking in the sunshine. They stopped again at a stand of very old trees, gnarled and tall, looking as if they had been there always, through wars and storms and winters beyond count. Perhaps that was even true. Stuart said, “What do you think will happen to us, Michael? I mean for the likes of us. The world feels so…against us. Everywhere. Everyone. Well, not quite everyone. But you take my meaning. I put on my happy face and behave as if nothing could ever bother me, but it’s all rubbish. I worry. For myself and for all of us.”

His face looked sad, something Michael had never seen there before. He put his arm around Stuart’s shoulders and pulled him close. “I know. It weighs me down. John seems to have taken the position of constantly fighting and asserting and taking whatever he can get. And I can see that it is successful. But, as he might say, the lad is talking too loudly for his oats. I’ve never quite understood that saying, but I think I mean he has decided to put out of his mind the doubts he may have.”

Stuart was quiet for moment, pulling at the tall grass around them, the clear blue of his eyes looking across the meadow to the church spire that could be seen through a distant mist. “He may be right to take that stand. He found you, did he not?” And his smile was back, the playfulness in his eyes had returned.

“Surely he did.” Michael felt a rush of pleasure at the thought. John had found him and they would not be easily taken from each other now.

—

The days that followed were at turns lazy and busy. John had much to do and Michael was happy to be taught by John to at least help, if not accomplish things himself. He was becoming more comfortable dealing with tenants, with tradespeople, with keeping the finances in mind. He loved John’s confidence and it was infectious.

Stuart and Marcus seemed to be content to relax and take longs walks – together, or with Michael, or alone. Michael often wondered if Stuart had spoken with Marcus yet, but as far as he could tell, he had not.

One fine afternoon when the air was still and warm, Michael and John walked across the fields toward the river that ran along the bottom of the field. They had reached a curve in the the course of the river where it flowed around a little hillock covered in willows. Michael heard a sound, then another and he realized he was hearing men’s voices. As they approached an especially large willow they stopped, amazed for they saw Stuart leaning against the tree, naked, with Marcus behind him, fucking him rather forcefully.

True to form, John took this as an opportunity and strode forward, unfastening his trousers. Michael wondered where he found the…what? Courage? Fortitude? John, naked from the waist down, came up to the men who had stopped and were looking at him. Stuart seemed guilty. John laughed and said, “Don’t stop on my account. I want to watch what you’re doing.” He knelt down in front of Stuart and began to suckle on his cock as Marcus shrugged and began to thrust forward again.

Michael, feeling odd, since he had never imagined he would want to be that intimate with Stuart, decided to see what might happen if he took his clothes off. They were taking a risk since anyone could find them, but at the same time, the trees were large and the spot remote from the fields.

He moved toward them, feeling the breeze on his cock and knelt down behind John. He spit in his hand a few times and rubbed it on John’s backside, exploring him. Then his spit more on his own cock and found he wanted to take John, rather than just make love to him. He gripped John’s hips and drove his cock in. John grunted and pulled of Stewart. “You are a beast today. I like it.”

Michael laughed. “Don’t expect to see the beast very often.”

But he truly wanted to fuck him hard in this strange outdoor tableau. Marcus watched him and soon their bodies were moving at the same rate. John was taking Stuart’s own thrusts in response to Marcus and it all felt overwhelming to Michael. So much stimulation and the air on his body felt forbidden, that removing his clothes like this, expressing this animal need in the out-of-doors was surely sinful. But he laughed at the thought and thrust even harder.

Marcus reached a climax first, collapsing forward and gasping into Stuart’s shoulders, and Stuart gripped John’s head and drove his hips forward into his mouth, a strangled cry coming from him. Michael took some time and finally he felt his body begin to spasm and he felt himself filling John, felt his cock become wet and the liquid dripped onto the grass below them.

He slid out of John, feeling almost embarrassed, but he quickly realized they all did, since they were all having trouble looking at the others. Finally Stuart laughed. “Come now fellows. We can still be friendly despite that…whatever that just was!”

John gave a low laugh and reached for his trousers. “I agree with Stuart. There was no harm in that, and we have all had a nice time.”

When everyone was dressed again, Michael found he wanted to say something that he had forgotten when all this began. “I take it Stuart that you have had your conversation with Marcus?”

They both burst out laughing and Marcus put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Yes we have. Stuart and I have come to an understanding. Haven’t we?”

Stuart nodded, grinning. “We have. We mean to see how we are together. Here, and at school.” He looked at Marcus and took his hand. “We’ll not make any predictions, mind. Just enjoy each other.”

Michael felt very pleased and he leaned forward and embraced Stuart, feeling affections and even love for him.

Later that night, as he and John lay on the bed – their bed, as Michael had begun to remind himself – they talked over the events of the day. He turned to John and kissed his ear, “I’m so pleased that Stuart has found someone to at least try something with. And even more, I’m so pleased that Marcus has…well…seen the error of his ways?”

John ran his hand up Michael’s chest, massaging his nipples. Michael squirmed and turned to him, embracing him around the chest. “I am glad as well. It feels right. And I was wondering…if either or both of them would want this, if they could in time come to live here…or at least spend time here…what do you think?”

He felt his cock hardening into John’s thigh, but he ignored it. “I have had a similar thought. I think they will need to finish taking their degrees, as I will. But I would imagine Stuart might consider it. He has independent means and could live wherever he wants. But Marcus will want to support himself somehow and I can’t imagine it would be here. But he may want to visit.”

John reached down for his cock and gripped it as if trying to slow it down, but Michael could see that he was hard as well. How can we be so hard all the time, he thought. “This is of course your house, Michael. I do not mean to push this idea on you.”

Michael reached for John’s cock and stroked it slowly. John growled and stroked his in turn. “At this point, John, you have as much right to decide as I. You know that I have made a will? Perhaps you didn’t know I spoke with the solicitor last week. He has agreed – with some convincing – that you inherit this if I die.”

John’s hand stopped moving for a moment. “Is this true?”

Michael stroked a little faster. “Yes. I will have no children. You are mine as much as my child, my brother, my parent, would be. If we could marry, then I would.”

The hand on Michael’s cock moved faster, then Michael leaned forward and sucked John into his mouth and John, gasping, poured out into Michael’s mouth as he gushed over John’s thigh. They both began to laugh. “We are children, Michael! But I am moved by what you have done, and I love you for it.” He pulled Michael’s face to his and they kissed, tasting each other over and over. They slept soundly and when Michael woke knowing John was up and busy, he was able to lay in the bed content and happy, despite the trials that may be ahead because of the world as it was, trials that may some day lead to a different one.

—

There is a tale to be told from here. A tale of Michael’s house and lands on which he and John lived for many years. A tale of the second War for which Michael was conscripted (John being slightly too old) and in which he was wounded, losing an eye and injuring a leg, was discharged and recovered, with John’s care in his home. A tale of Stuart who lived with them for a few of years, but then purchased lands nearby and settled into a similar state of contentment with Marcus. They both survived the second War and settled back in their home. It was an uncommon situation for Scotland and for the worlds in general. But one thing men like they were could do is be discreet and careful.

Fergus, too old for the second War, stayed on, creating a magnificent garden that still exists today. There were other men who worked for and with them and who occasionally shared their bed. But mostly it was the two of them and Mrs Rideout, who was steadfast and loyal and kept their secrets. She never found another one to love herself, but she seemed content and took on a motherly role in the house.

Thus Michael recreated the family he had grown up with, recreated the security and the love. Both Michael and John saw their kind of love decriminalized in England in 1967 and only Michael survived long enough to see it legalized in Scotland in early 1981 and he died a few months later, feeling angry but slightly vindicated. But they had had many decades to love each other and that, despite everything, was enough.

Yesterday’s party was quite wild, and I ended up feeling dizzy after having a bit too much to drink. On a brighter note, my mom got married again, and it was a beautiful ceremony. My dad passed away when I was just six years old, and since then, my mom has tirelessly managed her salon. For the longest time, she had given up on love until she met Mr. Frimpong. Their love story is like something out of a movie. Mr. Frimpong had also experienced loss; he lost his wife in a serious accident. He has two sons, one my age and the other, 23 years old.

I’m really glad Mr. Frimpong became part of our family. He was a remarkably calm and gentle man who cared deeply for both my mom and me. His kindness and patience created a nurturing environment at home. However, his sons were quite different. Unlike their father, they were incredibly annoying and seemed to take special pleasure in getting on my nerves, turning every interaction with them into a test of patience. The only thing I couldn’t complain about was their looks. That, I won’t lie about.

Nana Kwesi, the oldest, has a striking appearance with his tall, broad-shouldered frame. His skin is a deep, rich brown that contrasts with his short, neatly groomed black hair. His face is marked by high cheekbones and a strong jawline, giving him a distinctive and commanding look. His dark, intense eyes are framed by well-defined brows, and his gaze is both observant and penetrating. He sports a neatly trimmed beard that adds to his mature and distinguished appearance. Nana Kwesi’s overall look exudes confident poise and understated elegance.

Kelvin, who is 18, has a youthful and energetic appearance. He stands slightly shorter than Nana Kwesi but has a lean and athletic build, hinting at his active lifestyle. His skin shares the same deep brown hue as Nana Kwesi’s, smooth and unmarred by age. His hair is kept in a short, tight fade, giving him a clean and modern look. His face is more boyish, with softer features compared to his older brother—rounder cheeks and a less pronounced jawline. His lively, bright eyes are full of curiosity and mischief, often accompanied by a playful smile that reveals his youthful spirit. Unlike Nana Kwesi, more reserved style, Kelvin’s fashion sense leans toward trendy streetwear—casual yet stylish, with a preference for graphic tees, hoodies, and sneakers.

Oh, I forgot to mention—I’m Kwadwo. I’m the same age as Kelvin. I have a naturally appealing face, with well-defined features that catch the eye. My skin is a deep, rich brown, and my short black hair is always neatly kept. My jawline is strong, and my eyes are thoughtful and expressive, giving me a look of quiet intelligence. Unlike my stepbrothers, I have a lean, almost skinny frame that contrasts with their more athletic builds. Despite my slender appearance, there’s a quiet confidence in the way I carry myself, and my style is modest, often opting for simple, well-fitted clothing that suits my reserved nature.

“My head hurts so bad! I told you the drink was too strong, but you didn’t listen to me! Argh! My head!!” I groaned, squeezing my throbbing skull.

I turned my head to the right and found Nana Kwesi sprawled out, deeply asleep. His shirt was off, and his zipper hung open, exposing a white brief boxer with a prominent bulge. This was the first time I had seen his torso bared like this, and I found myself captivated by his well-defined muscles and the way the boxer clung to his form. I was so absorbed in the view that I didn’t even notice Kelvin calling my name.

  “Hey!…  What are you staring at? Have you had your fill of the view, or do you want to touch it too?” he chuckled, his voice dripping with amusement.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not into guys or anything. It’s just that Nana Kwesi had a physique so impressive that I couldn’t help but notice

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t staring at him or anything,” I said, standing up from the sofa.

“Tell that to the chairs outside, not me,” he replied, continuing to tap Nana Kwesi to wake him up.

My mom and my new dad headed off to Aburi for their honeymoon, and I know they won’t be back for the next two to three weeks. I’m relieved that my mom finally gets a break from work, but on the flip side, I’m stuck here with these two empty-headed stepbrothers.

“Ahh… my head hurts so much! Why did you wake me up?” he groaned, struggling to regain his balance as he stood up, his voice filled with effort.

“Don’t blame me for drinking too much. You and Kwadwo were out cold before the party even ended,” Kelvin replied, glancing over at me.

“Where are Mom and Dad?” Nana Kwesi asked, still holding his head.

Nana Kwesi groaned, sinking back onto the couch. “Two weeks? What are we supposed to do until then?”

Kelvin smirked, crossing his arms. “Well, for starters, you could try not to drink yourself into oblivion again. We’ve got the whole house to ourselves, and plenty of time to figure out what to do.”

I could see the gears turning in Nana Kwesi’s head as he processed the information. “Maybe we could throw another party,” he suggested, a mischievous grin starting to form on his face.

Kwadwo rolled his eyes. “Because that worked out so well last night, right? Let’s not turn this place into a disaster zone before they get back.”

Nana Kwesi chuckled, rubbing his temples. “Fair point. But we should still do something. Two weeks is a long time to just sit around.”

“We’ll come up with something,” Kelvin said, glancing out the window at the sunny day ahead. “But first, let’s get you some water and maybe some food. You look like you’re about to pass out again.”

Nana Kwesi nodded, slowly standing up with Kelvin’s help. “Yeah, that sounds good. Then we can figure out how to make the most of these two weeks.”

As they headed toward the kitchen, the house was quiet, the calm after the storm of last night’s party. But with two weeks of freedom ahead, it was clear that this was just the beginning.

I decided to leave my stepbrother in the kitchen, figuring Kelvin could handle getting Nana Kwesi back to normal. The stale smell of sweat and alcohol clung to me, and the thought of a hot shower was too tempting to ignore. I made my way upstairs, each step heavy as the events of the previous night played back in my mind.

Once in my room, I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, taking a deep breath. The room was a mess—clothes strewn everywhere, the bed unmade, and empty bottles scattered across the floor. I shook my head, thinking about how out of control things had gotten.

Stripping off my clothes, I headed straight for the bathroom. The hot water pounded against my skin, washing away the grime and the remnants of the night’s chaos. As the steam filled the room, I felt the tension in my muscles start to ease. But the relief was only temporary—my thoughts kept drifting back to Nana Kwesi and Kelvin. Two weeks without our parents around was both a blessing and a curse.

What if things got worse? The party last night had spiraled quickly, and I wasn’t sure we could keep a handle on everything if we kept pushing our luck. But there was also a part of me that wanted to see what we could get away with, to explore the freedom we rarely had.

As I stepped out of the shower, dripping wet and wrapped only in steam, I found Kelvin standing in my room, his eyes lingering on me. I swiftly grabbed the towel I’d tossed aside and pulled it around my waist, trying to cover the heat of the moment.

Kelvin’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly. “Sorry for barging in,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment. “I didn’t realize you’d be… um, so exposed.”

I felt my face flush, not just from the steam. “It’s fine,” I managed, trying to regain my composure. “What’s up?”

Kelvin shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to talk about what’s next. We’ve got two weeks of freedom ahead of us, and I figured we should make some plans.”

I nodded, still holding the towel tightly. “Sure, let me put something on and join you guys in the kitchen. Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

As Kelvin turned to leave, I quickly threw on some clothes, trying to shake off the awkwardness of the moment. When I rejoined them, I noticed that Kelvin was calm. As we sat at the kitchen table, eating the breakfast Kelvin had put together, there was a comfortable silence. The food was helping to clear the remnants of the night before, and the house felt a bit more normal.

Kelvin broke the silence, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Hey, I’ve got to head out for a bit. I’m meeting some friends at the mall for a bit of  downtime.”

Nana Kwesi looked up, still nursing his headache. “Alright. What time will you be back?”

Kelvin shrugged. “Not sure, maybe a few hours. Just wanted to get out and relax for a while. You two are on your own until then.”

With that, Kelvin stood up and headed towards the stairs. “I’ll be back later. You guys figure out what you want to do in the meantime.”

Nana Kwesi and I watched as he disappeared upstairs to get dressed. The quiet that followed felt different from before—less charged and more relaxed.

“Looks like it’s just us now,” Nana Kwesi said, rubbing his temples. “What do you want to do while Kelvin’s out?”

I glanced around the kitchen, taking in the mess from last night and the potential of our free time. “We could start by cleaning up a bit.

After we had finished cleaning up in silence, Nana Kwesi turned to me and said he was feeling pretty grimy and that he needed to clean himself off. I’ll be in my room for a bit.”

With that, he headed upstairs, leaving me alone in the living room. I decided to watch a movie on Netflix to pass the time, but when I searched for the remote, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Frustrated, I decided to go ask Nana Kwesi if he had seen it.

When I reached the top of the stairs and approached Nana Kwesi’s room, I noticed his door was slightly ajar. Curious, I pushed it open a bit more and peered inside, hoping to catch a glimpse of where he might have left the remote but I saw something more surprising.  

I entered Nana Kwesi’s room, pushing the door open further. As I stepped inside, my gaze was drawn to the bed, where Nana Kwesi lay completely naked. His body was sprawled out comfortably, but his manhood was concealed by his hands, which he had placed strategically to cover himself. The sight was both unexpected and captivating.

The room was filled with a charged atmosphere, and for a moment, I stood there, caught between shock and fascination. My eyes wandered over his well-defined physique, the way the light played across his skin, and the intimate scene unfolding before me. I felt a rush of heat and a mix of emotions as I tried to regain my composure.

I couldn’t look away from Nana Kwesi, who was lying naked on the bed, his impressive manhood visible as he touched himself.

The scene was intensely arousing, with every detail of his muscular body on display and his hands moving slowly, deliberately over himself.

My eyes were glued to him, and my heart pounded with a mix of shock and excitement. It was like my body was betraying me, drawn to the raw intimacy of the moment. The way his skin glistened and the sight of him pleasuring himself was overwhelming, making it hard to think clearly.

I stood there, mesmerized, trying to make sense of why I couldn’t pull myself away. The unexpected rush of desire was both thrilling and confusing, leaving me caught between fascination and the urge to escape.

I snapped back to reality and realized I needed to leave before things got even more awkward. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I turned to slip out of the room, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. However, as I backed away, my leg accidentally brushed against the door, creating a loud thud.

I froze, my eyes darting back to see Nana Kwesi’s reaction. To my horror, our gazes locked just as he looked up in shock. He instantly covered himself, his face flushed with embarrassment. “What the hell?” he shouted, his voice sharp and filled with surprise.

The sudden outburst broke the tension and left me feeling even more awkward. I quickly turned and hurried out of the room, my mind racing with a mix of embarrassment and regret over the unintended intrusion.

I hurried back to my room, heart pounding, and locked the door behind me. I collapsed onto my bed, trying to shake off the unsettling mix of emotions from what I had just witnessed.

Lying there, I replayed the scene from Nana Kwesi’s room over and over in my mind. The vivid images of him, so exposed and vulnerable, kept resurfacing, creating a whirlwind of confusion and desire. I struggled to focus on anything else, my thoughts consumed by the unexpected and intimate moment I had stumbled upon.

As I tried to drift off, the warmth of the encounter lingered, leaving me restless and unable to escape the lingering effects of the afternoon.

As I lay on my bed, the images from Nana Kwesi’s room kept replaying in my mind. To my surprise, I felt a growing arousal that I couldn’t ignore. Despite knowing I wasn’t into guys, my body was responding in a way that confused and frustrated me.

I tried to focus on something else, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw him again in naked form, the way he touched himself, and the intensity of the moment. My arousal grew stronger, making it hard to think straight. The more I tried to push the thoughts away, the more my body seemed to react.

I couldn’t understand why this was happening.

It was as if the forbidden nature of what I had seen had stirred something deep inside me. The physical response was undeniable, leaving me feeling conflicted and bewildered as I tried to make sense of my unexpected desires.

I couldn’t take it anymore. The arousal was too intense to ignore, and I needed relief. I quickly stripped off my clothes, feeling the cool air on my bare skin. Without hesitation, I headed straight to the shower.

Once inside, I turned on the hot water, letting it stream down over me. The warm jets hit my hair first, and I felt the soothing sensation as the water flowed through my strands, slowly cascading down my body. The warmth spread over my shoulders, down my chest, and across my abdomen. I hoped the sensation of the water would ease my arousal, but it only seemed to make it worse.

As the water continued to flow over me, I became more aware of my throbbing erection. The persistent hardness was beginning to hurt, and no matter how much I tried to think of other things, the images of Nana Kwesi and what I had seen kept invading my mind.

Desperation set in. My body was responding strongly, and I had no choice but to mimic what I had seen earlier. I hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly reached down and began to touch myself. My movements were tentative at first, but soon they became more deliberate, trying to replicate the rhythm and pressure I had witnessed.

Despite the steaming water and the attempts to distract myself, I found myself growing more engrossed in the act. The combination of the hot water, the intense physical response, and the lingering images from earlier created a heady mix of sensations. My frustration and need for relief pushed me further, making the moment feel both urgent and overwhelming.

In less than five minutes, the pleasure built up rapidly, and I could feel myself approaching the edge. My breathing grew more erratic as I continued, driven by the intense sensations. To my surprise, as I finally reached a climax, Nana Kwesi’s name slipped from my lips, adding a layer of unexpected intensity to the moment.

The release was explosive, and I felt the hot, sticky fluid spill all over the bathroom floor. The mess was unavoidable, and I hoped desperately that I hadn’t made too much noise

.

Feeling a mix of relief and disgust, I quickly finished washing myself, scrubbing away the remnants of the encounter. I turned off the shower, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the bathroom, determined to clean up the mess and escape the awkwardness of the situation. I wore something and went to sleep on my bed.

I stumbled out of bed, feeling disoriented but determined to shake off the lingering fatigue. I realized had slept off from earlier. Heading to the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face, hoping it would help clear my mind. The water was refreshing, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Nana Kwesi and the unexpected events earlier. The idea of seeing him again made my heart pound, and I couldn’t help but feel a knot of anxiety in my stomach.

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I walked out of my room. As I moved down the hallway, I heard voices and laughter coming from the living room. My curiosity got the better of me, and I made my way toward the sound, hoping to rejoin the group and forget about the awkwardness of earlier.

When I entered the living room, I saw Kelvin and Nana Kwesi lounging on the couch. They were deep in conversation, and Kelvin’s easygoing demeanor seemed to fill the room with a relaxed atmosphere. However, as soon as Nana Kwesi’s eyes met mine, I felt a jolt of discomfort. I quickly averted my gaze, my cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and apprehension.

Kelvin, catching sight of my reaction, turned to me with a friendly grin. “Hey, I came by your room earlier but you were out cold. Didn’t want to wake you up,” he said, his tone light and casual.

I forced a smile and nodded, trying to act as if everything was perfectly normal. “Oh, thanks for not waking me,” I replied, settling into a spot on the edge of the couch. The casual conversation between Kelvin and Nana Kwesi continued, and I did my best to join in, all the while feeling the undercurrent of awkwardness from our earlier encounter.

Despite my attempts to focus on the conversation, the tension from the earlier events lingered, making it hard to fully relax.

Every time I stole a glance at Nana Kwesi, he seemed to be looking right back at me. The repeated eye contact made me feel increasingly uncomfortable. I tried to focus on the conversation, but my mind was a swirl of confusion and embarrassment from the earlier incident. Despite my best efforts to engage, I found myself unable to concentrate fully on what Kelvin was saying.

Kelvin, noticing my distracted state and the strange tension between Nana Kwesi and me, finally broke the silence. He looked from one of us to the other, his curiosity piqued. “Hey, what’s going on with you two?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. “You’re both acting kind of weird. Did something happen while I was out?”

The question hung in the air, and I felt my face heat up as I struggled to find the right words. I could sense Nana Kwesi’s discomfort as well, and his uneasy silence only added to the awkward atmosphere.

Kelvin continued, looking directly at me. “Seriously, is everything okay? You seem off today, and Nana Kwesi doesn’t look much better.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, trying to maintain a neutral expression. “No, everything’s fine,” I said, forcing a casual tone. “I guess we’re just a bit tired. It’s been a long day.”

Nana Kwesi cleared his throat and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, just a bit off today,” he said, avoiding eye contact with me.

Kelvin seemed to accept this explanation, though his brows were still furrowed with concern. “Alright, if you say so. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do. I’m here to help, remember?”

With that, Kelvin turned his attention back to the television, trying to ease the tension. Nana Kwesi and I exchanged awkward glances, both of us acutely aware of the unspoken tension between us. The atmosphere in the room remained strained, and I struggled to push past the uncomfortable feelings as we tried to move on with the evening.

As we settled in to watch the movie, I realized I was getting thirsty. I glanced at Kelvin and Nana Kwesi, trying to shake off the lingering awkwardness. “Hey, does anyone want anything from the fridge?” I asked, stretching my legs and standing up from the couch. “I’m getting a bit parched.”

Kelvin looked up from the TV and nodded. “Yeah, I’d love a drink. Maybe a Coke if you’ve got one.”

Nana Kwesi, on the other hand, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the screen. I took that as a sign that he wasn’t interested, so I shrugged and headed toward the kitchen.

When I reached the kitchen, I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and a Coke that had been left over from last night’s party. The cool air from the fridge was a refreshing change from the heat of the living room. As I closed the fridge door and turned around, I was startled to see Nana Kwesi standing right there, only a few feet away.

I let out a gasp, my heart racing from the sudden shock. Before I could react, Nana Kwesi moved quickly, placing his palm over my lips to muffle my surprised cry. His proximity was so close that I could feel his breath against my skin, and our bodies were almost touching.

“Shh,” he whispered urgently, his eyes intense and pleading. “Don’t say anything about what you saw. Please, keep this between us.”

His whisper was so close to my ear that I could feel the warmth of his breath. The closeness of our bodies sent a jolt through me, and I could sense the tension in his voice. I nodded slowly, trying to show that I understood and would comply.

Nana Kwesi finally removed his hand from my mouth but continued to hover close, his eyes locked on mine as if willing to keep the secret. I felt a mix of anxiety and intrigue as I nodded again, signaling my agreement.

“Alright,” I said quietly, “I won’t tell anyone.”

With that, Nana Kwesi gave a quick, relieved nod and stepped back, his expression shifting to one of more relaxed composure. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and regain my bearings.

I grabbed the drinks from the counter and headed back to the living room, my mind buzzing from the encounter. The uneasy silence between Nana Kwesi and me was now even thicker, but I tried to focus on the movie as I handed Kelvin his Coke and took a sip of my water, hoping to move past the unsettling moment.

As I made my way back to the living room, my mind was racing with questions about what had just happened. The image of Nana Kwesi standing so close to me, his hand pressed against my lips, replayed in my mind. I couldn’t shake the feeling of his palm on my skin, the same hand I had seen earlier.

Sitting back down on the couch, I tried to focus on the movie, but my thoughts kept drifting. The proximity of Nana Kwesi, the way he had covered my mouth, and the intensity of our close encounter were overwhelming. The realization that his hand, which had touched me so intimately, was also the one he had used earlier made my body react unexpectedly.

I shifted uncomfortably as I felt the telltale signs of arousal. The tightness in my jeans grew more noticeable, and I could feel the bulge forming as I struggled to calm myself. I was angry and confused, trying to make sense of why I was reacting this way. The sight of Nana Kwesi’s hand on my lips, the lingering warmth, and the close contact had stirred something inside me that I couldn’t easily ignore.

Trying to manage the growing tension in my body, I discreetly pulled down my shirt, hoping it would cover the obvious bulge that was becoming harder to hide. I glanced at Nana Kwesi and Kelvin, hoping they wouldn’t notice the shift in my demeanor. I felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration as I tried to distract myself from the situation.

The movie played on, but my mind was consumed with the memory of Nana Kwesi’s touch and the unexpected arousal it had triggered. I couldn’t believe how my body had betrayed me.

By 9:00 PM, the house had sunk into a deep, enveloping darkness, punctuated only by the occasional flicker of light from the street outside. After leaving Kelvin and Nana Kwesi in the living room, I retreated to my room to find some relaxation. The day had been full of unexpected events, and I needed a break. I had tried to unwind, but my afternoon nap had left me feeling restless and wide awake.

Realizing that I wasn’t likely to fall asleep again, I decided to head back to the living room. I was sure that Kelvin and Nana Kwesi had already headed to bed, and I thought some late-night TV might help me unwind.

I made my way down the darkened hallway, the silence of the house only broken by the soft sounds of my footsteps. As I approached the living room, I noticed a faint, warm light spilling out from under the door. I pushed it open gently, not wanting to make any noise that might wake anyone.

To my surprise, Nana Kwesi was still there. The television was on, casting a soft glow that danced across the room. But rather than finding the space empty, I saw Nana Kwesi sprawled out on the sofa, fast asleep. He was bare-chested, his smooth, toned chest and defined abs exposed to the dim light. His body was relaxed, and his breathing was steady, creating an almost intimate atmosphere.

He wore only a pair of blue boxer shorts with subtle stripes. The fabric clung to his form, outlining his well-built physique in a way that was both alluring and unexpected. The sight of him like this, so unguarded and vulnerable, caught me off guard.

I stood there, my eyes drawn irresistibly to his body. The way his smooth skin contrasted with the shadows, the way the stripes of his boxers framed his physique was impossible to look away. My gaze lingered on the contours of his abs, the slight curve of his chest, and the way his boxers accentuated his form. Each breath he took seemed to emphasize his physicality, making him appear even more captivating

I felt a strange heat rising within me, a mix of Fascination and desire that l could not shake. The intimate scene before me stirred something deep inside, making it hard to focus on anything else. My heart raced as I struggled to pull my eyes away, feeling both mesmerized and unsettled by the sight of Nana Kwesi in such a state.

Unable to resist, I took a few steps closer, drawn by the magnetic pull of his presence. The proximity only heightened the intensity of the moment, as if the air itself was charged with an electric tension.

I noticed a noticeable bulge in Nana Kwesi’s boxer shorts, and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It was so prominent that I felt a strong urge to touch it. The sight was mesmerizing, and it drew me in, making me want to reach out and explore what was hidden beneath the fabric.

My heart raced as I moved closer, the urge to touch growing stronger. The warmth of the room and the soft light from the TV added to the sultry atmosphere. I could feel my excitement rising as I approached.

My hand, almost as if it had a mind of its own, reached out. The closer I got, the more intense the pull became. The fabric was warm and soft under my fingers, and I could feel the shape and size of the bulge.

I hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of excitement and guilt. But as my fingers brushed the fabric, I was struck by how real and intimate the moment felt. I could feel the heat and the outline through the material, and my curiosity drove me to touch it more.

The sensation was thrilling and confusing, mixing a strange sense of thrill with the knowledge that I was invading his privacy. I touched more confidently, each contact making my excitement grow.

Eventually, I pulled my hand back, realizing what I had done. A wave of shame and confusion washed over me as I retreated. The image of Nana Kwesi’s bulge stayed with me, reminding me of the powerful and complicated feelings I had just experienced.

Eli, in all his wisdom, had decided that the first thing he’d show me in his hometown was his old gym.

“Yup, it ain’t much, but this is it.”

“It ain’t much” was right. The equipment wasn’t new, but the wear and tear told you that it was all well used. Well loved, even. I enjoyed how perfectly mismatched everything was: dumbbell pairs in different colors, some machines newer than others…the longer I explored, the more I could imagine this place teeming with guys (Eli being the hottest, no question) who’d built a community around lifting, spotting, the light bullying of almost-friends. It dawned on me that this place was simultaneously “ain’t much” and a whole lot to so many.

“I like it, actually,” I said. “Mainly because I’m imagining you lifting, grunting, glistening with sweat, blood vessels blood-vesseling…”

His smile was as beatific as the sun.

“What am I gon’ do with you?”

I garlanded his neck with my arms.

“I can think of oh-so-many things, Rev. Dr. Remington, that you could do to me.”

“Oh, yeah?”

His lips met mine as his hands groped my ass. Mr. Darcy in the streets, Mr. Wickham in a public gym we’d infiltrated afterhours because Eli was beloved by the owner. His lips were pressed against my neck now, and I groaned in pleasure, my nails digging into his back.

“You drive me crazy, boy…”

“Your accent…ugh…really comes out…oh…when you’re horny!” I panted.

“Fuckin’ smartmouth…”

Damn that (exasperated) smile.

“I’m about to put said mouth to good use…” I said sinking down to my knees.

“In a public place? Dag, I dunno, this is my gym, man…”

“You fucked me in a cave.”

“Dagwood…”

“A cave.”

“Fair enough.”

He unbuckled his belt and his trousers gathered around his feet. I reached for my prize which was getting fatter by the second, barely contained in those briefs.

And there it was: sevenish-inches of Neapolitan bliss. I hate that ice-cream, but this dick…

He hissed as I took him in my mouth. I felt him harden some more as I rolled my tongue around his manhood.

I looked up at him, and he grinned.

“Goddamn, baby, you look so hot with my cock in your mouth.”

I hummed my agreement causing him to moan.

“Wait…” he said pulling his cock out of my mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he commanded, slapping his hard spit-slicked member against his palms. I did as I was told, knowing full well what was coming next. Sure enough, he slapped his dick against my tongue a few times. It’s the stupidest thing and I don’t know why us guys do it, but there was something about the weight of his cock, the heat of it that felt right. Maybe I was so into him because what would have felt humiliating with anyone else felt safe with him.

According to my research on fellating a man, the wetter the better. This was not going to be a problem. I relished the taste of him: the heady scent of sweat with notes of citrus presumably from his shower gel and the salt of the precum dribbling from the head of his cock…Neapolitan ice cream could never!

“Baby, go slower, go slower…” Eli said between moans.

I stretched forward to swallow him completely, all the way down to the base of his cock. My mouth’s return journey was made very, very slowly.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

Clearly Eli approved.

He grabbed his cock and began to jerk off the moment I released it from the furnace of my mouth.

“I wanna cum…” he declared with urgency. “I wanna cum all over that pretty face of yours.”

“No.” I said taking his hard, hot cock in my hand. I ran my tongue around the head eliciting another lusty groan from my man.

For the next quarter of an hour, I tormented this guy, this big guy who’d left me spellbound, by deep-throating him, teasing him with my tongue, guzzling his balls. Eli loved that last bit. I suppose it’s true, playing with a guy’s balls during a blowjob is obviously an underrated move.

“Let me cum, Dag…” Eli was practically writhing.

I spat in my hand, and began to jerk him off.

“No,” he said pushing my hands away. “Stay where you are.”

I heard my name meld into a mighty groan as a hot jet of his seed hit my cheek. And then another. I shut my eyes and just in time because the final shot coated my forehead. I could feel it drip down my chin and onto the gym floor.

“Here.” Eli handed me a wipe.

“Oh, Jesus, this is Lysol!”

“That’s all we have, gotta wipe down the equipment after using it…”

I could open my eyes now. Eli had more of those Lysol wipes for me: a good idea given the sheer volume of his nut.

“You shot a lot!” I remarked as I continued to clean up.

“Whose fault is that? You fuckin’ edged me for a year…”

“That sounds like a complaint, but you’re smiling.”

“That’s what you do to me, Dagwood.”

And just like that, I was disarmed.

**********

Resilience was a strange, beautiful city where the brown brick roads studded with centuries-old houses with pointed arches and ornate windows would lead you to more familiar asphalt. One street had clusters of brownstones interlaced with cafes, bars, bookstores and…who knows what else. Maybe I should take St. Vitus more seriously if it meant moving to a secret cultural hub of sorts. It seemed like the tourists and yuppies hadn’t found it yet.

“Why did you take me to the gym?”

Eli was walking me back to St. Vitus where Violet and I had a suite in their guest house. I don’t even want to know what Daddy paid for this.

“I spent a lot of time at that gym. You wanted to know about me before you, dint’cha?”

“Thank you for taking me.”

“Thank you for blowin’ me.”

I smacked him lightly on the arm while yearning to hold his hand.

My reverie of imagining us walking down these streets hand in hand was broken by my phone buzzing in a text.

Hi, where are you? I’m all unpacked. Eli’s friend and Clarence are both here and it is a lot, Dagwood. A LOT.

“Eli’s…friend?”

“What?”

“Oh, Violet texted. She’s going crazy with only Clarence and “Eli’s friend” for company. Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, Jesus…” Eli sighed. “Harry fuckin’ Hard-on. I told him I was gonna to see you at the guest house.”

“Not sure why Violet’s complaining, I thought he sounded fun, frankly.”

“He’s a good guy, but he’s kinda…a lot.”

“How far are we from the guest house?

**********

St. Vitus an ensemble of palatial buildings in stone. Some, as Clarence told us, were remnants of a fortress which served as a template for everything else. Each “battlement” was shared between a few academic departments and their “keep” was the student union.  Evidently, Resilience was a walled city at one point in its history. This is some town, y’all…

The guest-houses, however, were in jarring contrast to the ancient splendor of St. Vitus. Somewhat removed from the school buildings but very visible indeed was a high rise with a yuppie air about it. It came equipped with exposed brick walls, an Amazon Hub, a cappuccino machine and a seltzer dispenser in the club house, a pool…Our suite was, ostensibly, a spacious two-bedroom apartment with an excellent view of St. Vitus and beyond. I don’t even want to know what Daddy paid for this.

The door was answered by a frazzled Violet gripping a glass of orange juice.

“Hey, Vi—”

“That boy has been hitting on me and playing grab-ass with poor Clarence, Eli. I just…”

She thrust the glass at me.

“I found vodka!”

Eli shook his head and went inside.

“Since when do you drink?”

“I’ll make myself a Paloma from time to time. It’s a post-Mama Violet Quiet Time ritual.”

“IS THAT HIM?” A handsome Asian man raced towards me and enveloped me in a hug. The famous Harry Hard-on: with how sharp that boy’s jawline was, it was obvious that he didn’t break hearts—oh, no; he surgically bisected them.  

“Hi, Harry…” I said, weakly patting his muscular back.

“He’s cute, dude!” Harry yelled back into the apartment at Eli. “I guess you’re not a starter boyfriend because those don’t have to be all that interesting, you know? You’re interesting. I can tell.”

And with that, he raced back into the living room, and I was finally allowed to enter the apartment.

“Oh, hello, cousin Dagwood!”

“Clarence!” I gave him a hug. “How were classes?”

“Oh, alright, I suppose,” he said absently. “Can we talk? Privately?”

I had never seen Clarence this serious.

“Um, sure.”

Violet was just leaving the kitchen, a full glass of (hopefully only) orange juice in her hand, as Clarence and I approached.

“Cousin Violet, is that—”

“Mind your business.”

“They didn’t remove the alcohol from the mini-bar, I think.” Clarence explained sheepishly.

“I’ll deal with that later, I promise, but what did you want to talk about?”

“What is going on with Cousin Violet?”

“She’s mean!” Clarence took a beat. “Well, meaner.”

“We’ve been having some…issues.” I sighed.

“Is she homophobic since you’re gay and all?”

“I’m not…Clarence…wait, did Violet tell you?”

“Oh, no. Harry. But I always sort of knew.”

I suppose I should be madder at Harry for outing me to my cousin who could, for all I knew, broadcast this to the entire family or go on some areligious tirade of his own. But wait, what did he mean…

“You always knew?”

“You always acted like you were better than us, you speak all fancy, and you have bougie taste, so “gay” was one of my theories.”

“Clarence!”

“I still love you, though.” He said timidly. “You’re family.”

“That’s…sweet. Uh. Sorry. Thank you, Clarence: I love you, too.”

“Okay, but is Cousin Violet homophobic?”

“No, pal,” I sighed. “She’s Dag-phobic.”

“That sucks,” Clarence placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Especially since neither of you seem to have other friends.”

**********

I wanted to tell Clarence that “gay” seemed a bit too final, I guess. Or, I don’t know, there were days when I felt most aligned with that word—gay—and there were others when I wanted a wider berth, more choices. If sexuality were health insurance, I’d be a PPO guy. I remember finally asking Eli if he was bisexual, and he shrugged and said that he was eighteen: valid, I guess.

There was little time to think about any of that because Harry had plans for us to go to a gay bar.

“It’s wild, you guys,” he said distributing fake IDs. “The guy who runs the place owes Hiram several favors, so we’ll get in, at least.”

The picture on my ID was so washed out that it looked like me, were I a sickly Victorian child.

“My date of birth on this makes me around 30, Harry. Do I look 30 to you?”

“You look like a 30 who eats kale chips, goes to spin and had daddy buy him Juvederm for his 29th, babes.”

“Juvederm,” I mumbled. “If the bouncer asks why I look like jailbait, I shall say “Juvederm.” Good. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll look it up at some point…Juvederm…hmmm…”

“Dagwood,” Eli smiled, “I’m thinkin’ the bouncer won’t quiz you…”

“Will you look at that, Dagwood?” Violet chimed in. “My name on this ID: Vilma Flintstobe, which is just so clever. Stobe. And I’m 26. For once, we’re not twins or saddled together, Dagwood. Refreshing, isn’t it?”

I wasn’t going to touch whatever that was, but it hurt.

“What time do we want to get there?” Eli asked. “Harry?”

“Like, 10?”

“Cool if Dag and I meet you there?”

Violet, leaving her orange juice(?) behind, left the room.

**********

Eli and I were back on the road.

“You okay, Dag?”

“Not particularly,” I said. “A part of me wanted to put on a fake happy voice and lie to you, but I feel just fine telling you the truth.”

“Well!” Eli put his arms around my shoulders. “I’m thinkin’ this place I’m takin’ you to will cheer you right up!”

I had to concede that he was absolutely right when we found in a tiny bookstore. Richardson’s Print Shop was all brick, wood, natural light and that smell…you know the one…the one somewhere along the spectrum of petrichor and coffee?

“What’s this?” I asked stupidly, walking around marveling at how much space that deceptively small storefront hid.

Eli was beaming. “Anthony? HEY, ANTHONY!”

“Why, Eli Remington! Will wonders never cease?” A reedy and slightly disheveled man in his thirties said descending the stairs. “And who is this?”

“Dagwood King; he’s a friend.”

“A friend?” Anthony wagged his eyebrows.

“A friend.” I had never seen Eli smile this much.

“Your store is beautiful!” I gushed, and how could I not? There was something transportive about it. But, most of all, it felt safe, you know?

“Consider it your store, young Master King!” Anthony said. “Your…friend is one of my favorite customers…not that we’re allowed to have favorites!”

“So tell me,” I said as we wandered through the store. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I used to come here to read,” Eli explained. “Daddy didn’t like no “worldly” books in the house. Anthony said I was his favourite customer, but I didn’t buy a goddamn thing. Anthony, he just let me hang out and read.”

“The more I get to know you, Eli Remington, the more I…”

“The more you what?”

“Hey, look!” I said. “It’s your guy!”

I slipped past him to reach for a thin volume labelled Tennyson on the bookshelf in front of me. When I turned around, Eli had me cornered, pressed up against that very bookshelf.

“The more you what?”

“Tennyson probably has the answer!” I flipped through the book to land on a random page, and, well…
“Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal’d:
I strove against the stream and all in vain:
Let the great river take me to the main:
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;
Ask me no more.”

“At a touch I yield, huh?” Eli whispered, tracing a path along my jawline down to my throat, re-rousing a deep pang of yearning. For him. “How’s that?”

“N-n-not…that, fuck, all y-you g-g-got?”

He chuckled before he pressed his lips against my jugular and proceeded to advance lower.

“Eli…” I couldn’t breathe. The heat of his lips, the fragrance of the books around us.

He unbuttoned the top of my shirt as he made for my clavicle, and, God forgive me, I couldn’t help it: I moaned. It was a low quiet moan, but I could have sworn it echoed. Amazing. That’s what I look for in a bookstore: acoustics.

“I yield!” I gasped. “I yield, I yield…”

“Easy!” Eli Remington declared cockily before his lips met mine. We kissed with a voraciousness more heightened than before: maybe it was the slightly vampiric vibe of the events of the very recent past. My hands traced the muscles dancing in his back, admiring the width of his lats—seriously, how can someone be this perfect? And, of course, my hand slowly caressed his cock which was rapidly growing along his left thigh.

“So you dress to the left?” I whispered.

“Shut up; we’re kissin’”

“GENTLEMEN!” Anthony called from…somewhere. Truly such magnificent acoustics. “Our shelves are too old to shoulder the weight of such…vigorous friendship!”

“We’ll finish this later,” Eli smirked. “Just you wait.”

I kissed him again before we made our way to the front of the store.

“Alright, Anthony!” Eli said, fist-bumping his friend. “I’ll come in before headin’ back to Wolf’s Holler: need some more “worldly” books to tide me over.”

“Junkie.” Anthony smiled.

You know, if you went by stereotypes, there was no earthly reason for these men to have been friends. But, then again, looking back over the past few months, what exactly has subscribed to a template or aped a stereotype? I’m sure there’s a lesson in here somewhere…

“Oh, shit!” I cried noticing that I was holding onto Tennyson even though we’d exited the store.

“Sorry for shoplifting!” I said to Anthony, having darted back inside to return the book.

“Oh, I insist you keep it, Mr. Dagwood,” Anthony smiled.  “You read so beautifully.”

**********

“Where to now?” I asked Eli.

“Coffee,” he said taking my hand in his. “There’s this place nearby where I used to study. Or try to, anyway…”

“REMINGTON? Fuckin’ DAGWOOD? ARE YOU FAGS HOLDING HANDS?”

Eli carefully let go of my hand.

“You seein’ things, Dreyfuss?” Eli laughed at the figure approaching us. “Need someone to hold your hand? Just ask, bro…”

What do you call a guy who is, apparently, handsome but abhorrent nonetheless? Kinda like how there’s always a whiff of shit lingering under that miasma of Febreeze you encounter in a bathroom that has just survived the worst 15 minutes of its existence? That’s Drew Dreyfuss. I think Daddy and the elder Mr. Dreyfuss get along fine: there’s been a rumor that his sister is a lesbian, but I think that that’s part of the protocols put in place to “other” anyone who chooses the East Coast over the South. Hell, maybe even the West Coast? I don’t know anyone who left Wolf’s Holler for California, though.

“Whatever,” Drew mumbled. “What are you two doing here?”

“Oh, I was just asking Eli the same thing!” I practically trilled. “Isn’t it funny? How funny to run into two classmates from home!”

“Yeah, fuckin’ hilarious.” Drew smirked.

“This is my hometown,” Eli declared, still keeping things light. “What the fuck are *you* doing here?”

“Lookin’ at St. Vitus, man…” Drew rolled his eyes.

“Oh, ME TOO!” Great going, Dagwood. “My cousin goes here, so…haha!”

“Thought you were going to Harvard or something, Daggy boy.”

This fucking guy and that horrible nickname…

“Boston? Me?” Another big laugh. “Can you imagine?”

“Totally.”

This FUCKING guy,

“Well, it was…um…well, I saw you both and, um, I should go. Coffee. Thank you. Bye.”

NAILED IT.

**********

I did manage to make it to what was probably the café that Eli had in mind. These people had taken an old mansion and converted it into a café: there was mismatched furniture on the patio and in the different rooms of the house. I hated it. Try-hard bullshit. Or, ugh, I dunno. Maybe I was being unfair because of how upset I was.

“Is it really lavender?” I asked the barista. “The lavender latte?”

“Kinda,” he winked. “But, hey, don’t get that. You’re not a lavender latte guy, I can tell: let me make you something, something that gets you, ya know?”

That was rather presumptuous of—I peered over at his nametag—Trevor. Of course, it’s Trevor.

“Really?” I asked drily. “You’ve figured out who I am in 10 seconds of meeting me?”

“That’s the Earl Grey,” he noted. “You have a bite to you. But I’d also add some rose because you’re…”

“Trevor,” I interrupted him. “Can you please make me the lavender latte?”

He held up his hands. “You got it, boss.”

I suppose having a good-looking stranger who knew his way around coffee drinks flirting with me would be flattering, but I was so SO tired. Fucking soul-crushed.

“It’s on the house, cutie,” Trevor smiled brightly, sliding the drink over. “Enjoy!”

I crisply placed a tenner on the counter.

“Why don’t you flirt with that poor boy over there who is looking over at you with a heartbreaking degree of thirst?”

The “poor boy” in question blushed so deep he looked burgundy for two seconds.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry, I…” Trevor began.

I walked away, towards what was maybe a bedroom once but was the Genessee Tea Room today and slumped into a leather chair. Damn that Drew Dreyfuss! Damn him! Damn him for reminding me that these days I had with Eli were pure illusion. You know how in horror movies there’s that trope of a hand bursting forth from the ground to grab onto your leg and pull you down to hell? Drew was that hand. So, yeah, I was suddenly very, very tired. I’d been lying so much already, and the thought of a whole year (and maybe more) of subterfuge to placate the stubbornness of a town that couldn’t let go of its established order of things, hierarchies…

Do you know Romans 3:4? God forbid: yea, let God be true, but every man a liar; as it is written, That thou mightest be justified in thy sayings, and mightest overcome when thou art judged.

This verse that assures you of God’s faithfulness to you despite your own shortcomings. The preacher man may think of this differently (I’m 100% sure of it), but, to me, this verse says that God looks at things on a case-by-case basis, and that He might just understand why I’m lying and scheming, and generally being an asshole. I said understand, mind you, not forgive. Do you want to hear some real blasphemy, though? Maybe God won’t hold these lies against me because I’m not sinning against Him, just against the inane rules that man has made.

“Hey.”
I looked up to see Eli standing before me looking worried.

“You okay?”

“I am now.”

Confession time: Growing up, I have always seen myself as a straight dude. Thanx to the internet,I have been exposed to all kinds of porn. In the last few years, I keep finding myself drawn to gay porn though. The sight of men sucking cock and fucking each other is such a turn on. I feel like my whole sexual universe has shifted! Although I have never been with a guy, I wanted to experience what it was like to have a man’s cock in my mouth and my ass, so as a first step, I started buying sex toys; especially dildos.

I loved the feeling of sucking a huge dildo while I rode another one deep inside my hole. I would cum over and over. Masturbating had never been this erotic nor this naughty before. I wanted to take things even further,so I started videoing and taking pics of myself  while I sucked and fucked myself with my toys.In a strange and twisted narcissistic way, I would jerk off  watching myself in the videos! It was like watching another person; not me! I knew I had to take things to the next level; being with a real guy!

I started posting my erotic pics on various dating sites and forums. I got so many responses for hook ups; it was such a big ego boost ! I had no idea what I wanted though. As a first timer,I knew I needed someone who was assertive.

I found the perfect  top who was smooth skinned and had a nice bubble butt and a fairly large cock. Our first meet up was the Friday! I was too excited!!!

Part 2 coming soon

From the early ages I was curious about porn, sex. I had a neighbour girl with whom I used to mess around from the very young age. We experimented a lot, rub against each other until we came, touch, watch some porn magazines together, or stolen parents sex video tapes when we were alone.

I remember we always tried adult games every time we were home alone. Sadly when we were starting to get older she lost interest in fooling around as she was more interested into the older guys and we were like brother and sister.

Since I could not play with her anymore, I had to start experimenting on my own. I got a new pc with the internet. From that moment I no longer needed to watch same porn from the CDs or video tapes. It unlocked new kind of pornography to me.

I have watched mostly straight porn but after a while I supposed I got bored of this so I started to click off the straight porn to some shemale porn and I got hooked immediately. I was releasing my cum to this porn daily. At that point I never watched gay porn as it was not appealing but after watching porn so much I went to check all sorts of categories and suddenly gay porn was hot as well.

While watching shemale porn I was curious what its like to get a real dick inside my ass. But at that point all I could try was my finger. So when I was really horny I did try that and I wasn’t really enjoying, it was weird, kind of hurting and all, even though I used lube. But when I watch porn I become a different person. I often forget what I felt last time and try again.

Fast forward these experimenting sessions, I tried to use some jumping ball handle I had from the childhood as it was all nice and soft and I could even jump on that handle while sitting on the ball. That probably was the time I felt really good inserting something in my ass. I even managed to cum without masturbating while jumping on that ball and feeling the rubbery handle inside of me while my hard cock was slamming against my belly.

Now after these experiments I was more and more curious in getting my ass fucked by the real thing.

I had this friend which whom I used to hand out a bit. He was my age, at that time we were 18 years old. I was pretty skinny but had a nice ass I suppose and he was more muscular since he worked a lot at home as he lived with his father only.

During the summer I used to build a tent in my parents garden and we would sleep together or I would sleep with other friends, played cards, eating junk foot, etc. A year ago his father found a women who had a daughter. So of course my friend and her were fucking from time to time as they were almost the same age.

While we were in the tent playing cards we were talking about a lot of shit and I asked did he fucked her or not and he said that he did. I never actually fucked anyone so it was interesting to me how he did it and all. He said that her pussy wasn’t shaved and it didn’t looked appealing but he did it anyway. I said that’s gross, unshaved pussies its a turn off for me. He then said that he would fuck anything that moves and I jokingly said even guys? And he said yeah, I don’t care. If there is a hole I can fuck it. He also added that since last month she started to use her pussy as an advantage, to make him work more or she would not fuck him so he didn’t fucked her for the week or so as he said that she pissed him off because of these stupid games. I also asked if he fucked anyone else and he said no, that she was the first for him.

I knew him pretty well to the point where I can tell when he’s joking but actually meant it and when he’s joking and just speaking nonsense. This time when he said that he could fuck a guy jokingly, he actually meant it and I thought this will be something I can use it to get the real dick in me.

So my plan was next time we sleep, which was actually the next day, I will be well prepared and will try to trick him into fucking my ass. So before we were meeting to do a sleepover I shaved my ass and balls clean so not a single hair was seen. Also cleaned my ass so well that probably inside it you could see a shine. I took my old lube which I used to play with my ass and put inside the tents pocket.

Next evening started as normal, we played the cards, ate some junk food, talked bunch of nonsense. Also the tent was standing next to my parents house and during the summer times they would open the windows as it was hot so whatever we would talk you could hear very clear, so we always tried to keep as quiet as we could.

At about 1am I thought my parents would be asleep so I could use this opportunity to get the same topic about his step sister and maybe move it along into fucking my ass. So I asked if he managed to fuck his stepsister today and he said no, she still wont let him fuck her and that his balls are swollen from the amount of cum he has inside of them.

I said well you said you could fuck anyone anyway even the guys. I bet you just full of shit. And he said no, I could for sure. I would fuck any hole especially now since this bitch doesn’t let me fuck her.

Well then prove me you not full of crap. If its true show me your dick I said and laughed to pretend I was kind of joking. Without saying anything while holding with 1 hand his cards with the other he took off his trousers and revealed his cock. I was surprised to see it was trimmed and not bushy at all and looked very nice. Without seeing it hard it was difficult to tell what size it was and how it looked so I said, I meant hard dick, not the limp one and laughed again.

All this talk was as quiet as possible because the last thing I want to do is to let parent hear all this nonsense. While my friend was with his dick out he said well I cant just magically make it hard you know. Then I thought this is the opportunity I can not miss. I said well since you showing something I can show you this which might help you to get hard. I turned around, bent my ass a bit and lowered my shorts to reveal half of my ass cheeks and a smooth looking hole.

I looked at him and said well now we both shoving stuff to each other and laughed a bit. I saw he was looking at my ass with the dead look and took his cock in his hand and started to rub a bit and within just couple of seconds I saw his cock get really hard. It was about the same size as mines, average and pretty thick. I thought I need this cock in me asap.

I said well you were not kidding about fucking any hole by showing your hard dick. Since your dick is hard and my hole is prepared might as well we try things out? I said while taking the lube from the tents pocked and putting some on my fingers.

I then lowered even more of my shorts so he could see it all and lubed my hole well while he was dead silent and rubbing his cock while watching me prepare the hole. I then inserted my finger inside to loosen it up a bit as I knew I will have to take it slow and easy as his cock will be the biggest thing I was putting in my ass.

I played a bit with my finger inside my ass, my cock was hard as hell knowing that my dream will finally come true and the experience I will have will never be the same. I looked at him and said I am ready when you are. We need to be very quiet and take it super slow.

He then came from behind of me, I gave him the lube to apply on his dick and then I felt his warm cocks head against my warm wet hole. I was waiting for this moment so long. I asked him not to move and let me push against him until his cock will be fully inside of me.

I started to apply more pressure against his cocks head and I felt how my boy pussy was expanding to take it all in. Not sure if it was me so horny or I was well prepared but it did not hurt or anything and as soon as I felt his tip slowly bypassing the entrance I applied a steady pressure again and felt his cock sliding all the way in in a smooth motion.

I could not help but let a moan out hoping nobody heard and as soon as the whole dick slid inside, my cock became even harder. I then asked my friend how does it feel and he said its tight and amazing. Then after couple of moves back and forth I prepared my ass for him to be fucked and said now you can enjoy it all but very quiet, so no slapping against my ass.

He took over the action and slowly started to move back and forth sometimes sliding his whole dick out of my ass and putting it back. Every time he did that my cock would jump from excitement. That felt so good I was about to cum. While he was penetrating me all I could think was how it will feel once he’s going to cum inside of me. Will I feel his cum shooting inside of me or not. Since he didn’t fucked for a week or so I thought he will cum buckets in me.

I felt how the action got more and more intense, how his strides with his cock got deeper and deeper. My boy pussy was getting super warm, my cock was dripping with precum already. It did not lasted long as he said I am going to cum and I said that he should do it inside my ass. From the past experiences he was only cumming inside the condom and now he’s funking my raw ass without it and going to cum inside as well. That drove him nuts.

I could feel his cock getting more and more stiff until he slowly took his whole cock out, and shot his first stream of cum directly in my open hole. I could hear that stream of cum leaving his dick and hitting my ass. It was a nice thick and powerful shot. Right after the first shot he pushed his rod all the way in me and pumped me with another good 5 streams of cum. I could feel all of them hitting my insides, could feel his cock pulsing which stretched my ass even more with every cum shot.

I didn’t have to touch my cock to for me to cum as I felt so horny while he was filling my ass I just exploded on my sheets with good thick cum shots as well. I felt how he enjoyed while I was cumming as it was gripping and squeezing his cock tight with every cum shot I made.

After we both were with empty balls he still stayed inside my ass until his dick got softer. Then slowly taking it out with a nice slushy sound which caused by his cock leaving my ass with all that cum leaking from it. I wanted to feel how much of my ass was stretched and how much cum he left in me so I inserted my finger in it and my ass was so hot inside, all wet and stretched well.

Since our balls were empty, our minds worked differently as well. Same way when you cum watching some hardcore porn and after it you feel disgusted and disappointed sometimes. This time wasn’t the same, maybe because I came without actually masturbating, it was like a prostate orgasm or because it was the first time and all of this intense feelings got mixed up but I knew for sure that I will need this cock back asap.

I put my clothes on while his cum was still inside of me. I did not know where should I put it. So I kept it in thinking that he will fuck me tonight again for sure and the cum I have inside will be the lube for his next fucking. I said to my friend that he proved well that he could fuck any hole and asked if he liked more than fucking his step sister and if he does not regret it. He said it was 100% better and that he would do it again any time.

It was the new chapter of my life as from this point he used my ass more times than I could count. He event declined many times his step sisters offering to fuck her as she noticed that he doesn’t beg her for sex and he always refused as his balls were always emptied inside my ass.

We kept the sex straight to the point. We never kissed or did any kind of relationship. I never felt any kind of attraction to him apart of his cock. The same way he never asked or did anything similar as he just wanted to use my smooth ass. I have tried sucking his cock as well couple of times but nothing compared when he was fucking my ass raw and cumming inside of me.