Author: admin

So, let’s talk about Tristan.

Second-year analyst. Ex-rugby player. Dumb as hell but built like a Greek statue someone gave a protein sponsorship. Always smiling, always talking, always flexing his quads like it was part of the dress code. When he walks past your desk, you hear the thighs. Dress pants tight as fuck. Always adjusting the waistband or rolling up his sleeves like he’s in a Gillette ad. You know the type.

He joined Whitestone Ridge Capital last year. First week he asked if I could recommend a good gym nearby. I told him about the one I go to. Next day? We’re gym buddies. Like that. No warning. Just boom…every evening, he’s waiting by the elevator in a tank top and joggers, smirking like we’ve been doing this for years.

He was cocky from day one. Too comfortable too fast. Started calling me “old man” after I told him I’d been here longer. He’s twenty-two. I’m not even 24 yet. But sure. Call me a relic, Tristan. That didn’t stop him from asking me to spot his incline bench every single time. Or making stupid comments like “Dude if I get any thicker, I’m gonna need new pants. Wanna help me stretch these out?” while flexing his glutes like that’s a normal thing to say at 7 PM.

It wasn’t just gym talk. At the office, he’d drop the usual shit. Homophobic jokes wrapped in bro code. Every straight dude here does it. You know the drill. You get told “Suck my dick, bro” at least once a day, casually, in meetings. And yeah, I’ve replied with “Gladly, Bryce, but only if you suck mine first.” Gotta keep it balanced. Keep the game going. That’s the thing…this whole job is theater. You play along or you don’t get invited back on stage.

Anyway. Back to Tristan. You’ll meet Bryce later.

So yeah, whatever jokes Tristan made, I brushed it off. Most of the time. Because he’s hot. Judge me all you want, I’m extra nice to hot men. Hot men make my dick hard. Doesn’t mean I’m not a nice person. I hold the door. I ask about people’s weekends. But you look like that in my office? You get a few passes.

We got into a rhythm. Gym after work. Sometimes brunch on weekends. A few times he came over to pregame before team events. Always casual. Always straight-coded. Until it wasn’t.

There was one night, we’d just wrapped a late trading review. Worked till almost eight. We were both fried. Decided to hit the gym before heading home. Leg day. He was feeling himself, squatting heavy, grunting loud. At one point, he was spotting me, hands on my waist, and slapped my ass when I finished the last set.

“You like that, old man?”

I looked at him. He was grinning. Just stupid and golden and sweat-slicked. I rolled my eyes, said nothing. But yeah, I let it slide. Again.

After the session, we headed to the locker room. Pretty normal routine. We’ve changed next to each other enough times that it wasn’t a thing. All the guys at our firm have seen each other’s asses by now. Some of us even our cocks. It’s not subtle when you’re showering in open stalls or stripping next to someone mid-conversation about hedge ratios. It’s locker room shit. You look and pretend you didn’t.

That night, though, Tristan was taking his sweet time. I’d stripped down to my underwear, still damp with sweat, and was digging in my bag for fresh socks. He was behind me, changing, and then he said it, real low, real casual.

“Not bad for an old man,” he said. “Still got an ass.”

I froze. Turned around. He was in his briefs, hugging everything, and yeah, he was semi-hard. Not subtle. His cock was halfway up his thigh. He didn’t even try to hide it. He just smirked and looked at me like I was the one being weird.

I walked over to him.

Still in my underwear. Still damp. Still half-hard from that workout and all the shit he’d been saying.

I pushed him back against the locker, one hand on his chest. The thud echoed. His eyes didn’t change. Didn’t flinch. Just smirked wider.

“You like that, old man?” he repeated.

I leaned in. Real close. Felt the heat off his skin. His breath was steady.

“You’re gonna keep saying that till I shut you up?” I asked.

He grabbed me by the waistband of my underwear. Palmed my balls. Bold as fuck. Cocky smile on his face.

Then he laughed. “Why are you hard, Dan?” he said, like he was curious. Like this was a joke we were both in on. “This turning you on? Being so close to me?”

I didn’t blink. Didn’t step back.

“Maybe it is, Tristan,” I said. “You gonna suck it? Or you a pussy?”

He licked his lips. I watched his jaw twitch.

“Why are you hard, Dan?” Tristan said, like he was curious. Like this was a joke we were both in on. “This turning you on? Being so close to me?”

“Maybe it is, Tristan,” I said. “You gonna suck it? Or you a pussy?”

He licked his lips. I watched his jaw twitch.

“I ain’t no fucking pussy,” he muttered, still holding my dick through my briefs. “I ain’t gay, man. You’re just… you’re hard. That’s on you.” He laughed under his breath, fingers still tight around me. Like he didn’t know whether to let go or squeeze harder.

“That’s the blood flow,” I said. “Simple biology. Now unless you think you’re gonna like it, I’d suggest you stop hesitating and put it in your mouth.”

He paused. Looked down. Then looked back up, smirking. “Only ‘cause you called me a pussy,” he said. “I got shit to prove.” Then he dropped to his knees. “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing,” he mumbled, staring straight at the bulge in my underwear like it was about to fight him.

I rested both hands lightly on the back of his head. Not pushing. Just there.

“Bro, chill,” I said. “I’ll teach you. Don’t be so precious about it. Be a man and suck it like you mean it.”

He laughed. Nervous. But his fingers curled into the waistband of my briefs and started pulling them down.

“Holy shit, bro. What the fuck. You’re bigger than me,” he muttered. “Don’t tell Karina. I’ve been trying to hit that for weeks.”

“Chill,” I said again, cock springing up as the briefs hit my thighs. “This stays between us. I’ll let you have her. Consider it my gift.”

He wrapped his hand around the base. Hesitated. “Uhh… how do I…”

“Just open your mouth,” I said, stepping in close. “I’ll handle the rest.”

I brought my hips forward slow. Just enough that the head bumped his lips. They parted on instinct.

“Bro,” he said, leaning back slightly. “If you make me choke, I swear to God I’ll bite your dick off.”

I laughed. “Now shut the fuck up and take it. Pussy.”

He opened his mouth wide.

I slid in.

The first few seconds were awkward as hell. He didn’t know what to do with his tongue. Kept pulling back like he was afraid. But I held his head steady. Not rough. Just enough to keep him there.

“That’s it,” I said. “There you go.”

Warmth. Wet. His lips awkward but eager.

He tried bobbing once. Gagged a little.

“Relax your throat,” I said. “No one’s filming this.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled around my length. “This is so weird.”

“Don’t talk,” I said. “Use your mouth.”

He groaned and went back to work. The rhythm was messy, but goddamn if it wasn’t hot. Seeing him on his knees. Seeing the muscles in his back flex every time he leaned in. Seeing his hands fumble, unsure whether to touch my thighs or keep them at his sides like this didn’t count if he didn’t use his hands.

I grabbed his jaw. Made him look up at me. “Eyes up, Tristan. You’re already down there. Might as well commit.”

His eyes met mine. Green. Wide. Just slightly glassy. Lips stretched around my dick. I swear to God I almost lost it right then.

He pulled off, panting. My cock wet and shiny. “I’m fucking doing this,” he said, almost to himself. “This is actually happening.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You’re doing great. Want a gold star?”

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

“That’ll happen.. But some other time,” I smirked. “Finish this first.”

He leaned back in. This time, he opened his mouth wider. Took more slowly. I could feel the tension in his shoulders relax, just a little. Like something in him had clicked. He was still clumsy, but more confident this time. I guided his pace with soft thrusts. Nothing too deep yet. Just enough to feel the heat of his mouth and the pressure of his lips.

I ran a hand through his hair. Not because I needed to, but because I wanted to feel it. And the second I did, he made this low sound in his throat.

“You moan for dick now, Tristan?” I teased.

He shook his head fast, cheeks pink.

“Bro,” he said when he pulled off again, spit trailing from his lips. “Shut up. Just tell me when you’re close.”

“Why?” I said, stroking slowly in front of him. “You want some protein? We just worked out. It’ll help with gains.”

He gave me a look. Then laughed.

“Fuck it,” he said. “Let’s finish this.”

He went back down like he meant it.

And I let him. This time, I let the thrusts go deeper. He grunted. Choked once. Didn’t stop. Hands planted firm on my thighs now, holding himself steady like he was riding a set of squats.

The sounds got messier. The air thicker. My grip tightened in his hair.

“Fuck, Tristan,” I groaned. “You sure you ain’t gay?”

He gave me the finger without letting go.

That’s when I knew he was close to breaking. Not in a bad way. In the way that told me he’d think about this every time he closed his eyes for the next week. That every locker room joke was going to hit different from now on.

I was close.

“Coming,” I said, breath shallow. “Don’t move. Take it like a fucking man.”

He tensed. But didn’t pull away.

I grabbed his head and held it in place.

Then I came.

Deep.

Hard.

Hot down his throat.

He gagged once but stayed there.

Didn’t spit.

Didn’t move.

His fingers flexed on my thighs like he was fighting instinct. When I finally let go, he pulled off slowly, coughed once, then swallowed with a wince.

“Fuck.”

He wiped his mouth..“If you tell this shit to Karina,” he said, dead serious, “I’m going to fucking kill you. I swear to God, Dan.”

I laughed, still catching my breath. “Chill, bro,” I said. “This stays between us.”

He got up, cheeks flushed, eyes still a little glassy. Looked at me like he didn’t know whether to punch me or suck me off again.

“Next time,” he said, “you’re buying the fucking protein shake.”

“Deal.”

We finished changing in silence after that.

But the next day, back at the office, I caught him glancing at me. Twice. One was when I bent over to pick up a file. The other was when I licked hummus off my thumb during lunch.

Both times?

He looked away the second I met his eyes.

But yeah. The damage was done.

_

Next Up: Bryce. The one who jokes about me sucking his dick during team meetings.

Let’s just say… sometimes, I don’t mind keeping the joke going.

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DanXWrites:  If you’re enjoying these stories, I share a lot more erotica on Patreon , including all the future parts of this story already released on there. Feel free to check it out

Tyler paid his entry fee. The guy behind the counter looked at him suspiciously, passing judgement on whether Tyler was fit to enter the venue or not.

Tyler knew he was in a truly dishevelled sight. He’d just come from the nightclub next-door; his hair mussed up, his tight singlet soaked in his own, and dozens of other topless dancers, sweat; his butt-hugging jeans soiled by split alcohol and smelling accordingly. The effect of Tyler’s ecstasy pill had long worn off. He’d taken it to reach the euphoria of the dance floor all the sooner, and after 4 hours of non-stop gyrating on a crowded dance floor, he was horny and ready for sex.

The sauna definitely was well situated, right next door to the club, making it the perfect choice for those that had met their Mr Right Now on the dance floor, but it still had a policy of keeping the undesirables and the drug-fucked OUT!

Tyler wasn’t at that stage, he knew he was in control and despite the numerous sexual advances that he’d warded off; no one had really piqued his interest. The floor was full of the clone ‘look-at-me’ Sean-Cody gym designed bodies and as mouth-watering as they were, he was ready for something different – what that was – he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was just desperately horny and needed a root.

The counter guy decided that as Tyler was sober enough to string an intelligible sentence together he’d let him in. He gave Tyler a key and a towel. 

Tyler knew the routine by heart, but it was rare he came to the sauna without trade. The trade quality might have been questionable at times, but at least it was a guaranteed root!

Tyler thought he was alone in the changing room. He pulled the singlet over his head and got a whiff of his own pits, not overpowering but definitely in need of a shower. He kicked off his trainers and then tugged down his jeans which clung tightly to his muscular thighs. Oblivious of anyone else in the room, he peeled off his underwear, also damp from the copious amount of sweat that had run down his torso and pooled in his pants. He wound the white towel around his hips and turned to head for the showers.

He got a jolt of surprise when he turned around as there was another guy sitting on the bench in a towel opposite who had obviously enjoyed his strip show. Tyler was not immediately attracted to the guy, he was well over his age limits and he had developed a paunch. He was covered in grey fur which seemed to emphasize his age; Tyler was all set to carry on walking.

The man sat up, discreetly spreading his legs without it seeming too obvious. Tyler couldn’t help but glance in between them. He noticed the guys massive tree trunk thighs (which had always been a weakness of his) disappearing under the towel and the tantalising glimpse of what might lay between them was still hidden from view.

Tyler sized up the man again, he revised his first impression, the guy’s grey trendy crew-cut suited his weathered face. His grey furred belly was oversized with the towel knotted under the paunch. There was no doubt than this man was in his 50s and quite a lot older than Tyler’s usual age limit. He would have described him as hefty, not fat or out of condition just large, but it seemed proportional to his overall bulk and height and he had those generous ‘rugby’ thighs.

The man said ‘Hi’ in a deep baritone voice and straight away Tyler picked up on the authoritative aura of the guy even though he’d only said one word.

The guy remained sitting, not making any move to approach or sweet talk Tyler. The next move was Tylers. He realised he found the man’s demeanour attractive, there was something about his manner that somehow seemed dangerous, but sensuous at the same time. If he was in a dark alley or in public toilets, he would have definitely kept on walking. But in the relatively safe environment of a gay sauna where staff regularly patrolled the corridors, Tyler felt more at ease.

As he stood to talk to the guy, he felt an unexplained chemistry. He felt the guy just exuded masculinity. Silently the guy stood up, he was an inch taller than Tyler and then what originally seemed like excess fat to Tyler seemed to be in proportion to his giant frame.

The guy reached out his hand in greeting. Tyler thought that was weird in a place where there was no formality but he returned the gesture and felt the man’s powerful grasp around his hand. He could tell it wasn’t bravado, it was this man’s naturally strong grip.

The man said “I’m Steve, wanna go to a cubicle?”

Tyler couldn’t work out how the polite gesture of a handshake and the obvious demand for immediate sex balanced out. And yet it seemed to sum up the man’s character straight away. Respectful. Controlled. Confident and no doubt Dominant. 

Tyler almost stammered “I’m Tyler and……….. sure” He was going to add ”Shall I take a shower first?” But Steve had already made up his mind and was already turning round to leave the room.

Tyler followed Steve as he walked down the corridor looking for an open door to a cubicle. The man walked with purpose, strong strides. His back was square, from his shoulders, down his straight sides to the flattish shape of his ass. He was like a ‘block’ of muscle.

Steve swung open a door and stood inside as Tyler walked in. He pulled Tyler towards him and kissed him hard, his hands held Tyler’s face not giving the opportunity of pulling away. Their lips mashed together with Steve’s tongue invading Tyler’s mouth. Steve’s hand moved to the back of Tyler’s head solidifying his dominant grip not allowing him to pull back.

Tyler was stunned and could only hold onto Steve’s bare arms as if to ready himself to push him off….. if needed.

Steve had moved so quickly, he hadn’t even shut the cubicle door. A thought flashed through Tyler’s mind, maybe the guy was into voyeurism and didn’t care who looked in on them. It wasn’t Steve’s style, so with his face still trapped in Steve’s grip, he blindly reached behind him to slam the door. Steve was unperturbed.

As the onslaught of kisses continued, Steve removed one hand from the back of Tyler’s head and started to fiddle with the knotted towel around Tyler’s waist. It wasn’t tight and with one strong tug, Tyler was naked.

Straight away both of Steve’s hands were squeezing Tyler’s butt. His massive paws massaged the soft flesh of his buttocks.

Tyler wasn’t just going be passive. He reached down between them and undid Steves’s towel. Straight away their hard cocks clashed with each other’s, squashed between two very different torsos, one hairy and oversized and the other smooth and lean. Their cocks slid around in their joint spewed precum.

Tyler fought to get his hand down around Steve’s cock. He blindly fisted Steve’s shaft to gauge if his cock size matched the rest of his girth. Tyler estimated it to be a fat 5 inches, smaller than his own but the mass of it made it feel impressive.

He gripped the two cocks together, masturbating both as the onslaught of kissing carried on. Steve was masterful with his tongue, somehow managing to keep it rooting inside Tyler’s mouth and still managing to breathe.

Tyler pumped their cocks, feeling the juice run over his fingers – there was no doubt they were both in heat.

Then just as Tyler thought he had Steve all worked out and was already envisioning Steve’s cock up his ass, the whole scene took a whole other turn, Steve pulled away and commanded……….

“Fuck Me!!!”

Tyler couldn’t believe it. There was no doubt that he was all pumped up and ready to let the floodgates loose, he’d just never envisaged he was going to breach Steve’s asshole.

As far as Tyler was concerned, he’d misread all the signs; the indifferent approach; the aggressive kissing, the dominant body language, was completely flipped around.

And yet despite Steve demanding to be fucked – he still seemed to be in charge. Tyler couldn’t work it out – surely the top guy was always the boss? Why did it feel different this time?

Steve stepped aside and turned his back on Tyler to face the plastic mattress-covered bench, he clambered up on it on all fours and unashamedly exposed his asshole between his two glutenous buttocks.

He rested on his elbows and stuck out his ass – practically demanding to be fucked. Tyler was stunned, suddenly this sturdy mature guy was handing his ass on a platter.

Tyler marvelled the strong trunks of his legs, well able to take his weight, his two massive rounded exposed cheeks. Never before had he seen such a mass, usually the naked glutes that he was used to were perfectly lean and rounded, now Tyler was looking at doughy white cheeks where he could sink his fingers into the flesh and claw and drag them apart.

He stared at Steve’s hairy trench, the black twisted curls lined the length of his crack almost disguising Steve’s only miniature body part – his puckered asshole. In its surroundings it looked impenetrable – the mass of cheek flesh, the forest of hair, all there to protect its tiny target.

Steve squatted lower, spreading his legs, his daddy-sized balls swaying between them. Tyler walked up behind them, dripping cock in his fist, aiming for the hairy anal target and prepared to push……….

Tyler couldn’t believe it. This massive brute was on his hands and knees in front of him begging for his cock, well not really begging, but ‘demanding’ Somehow this guy was still in control and calling the shots. He wanted Tyler to ‘perform’ for him.

Tyler had fucked dozens of guys before but they were younger, usually smooth, their puckers pink and prime ready to be invaded. Older guys like Steve usually took the dominant role.

Tyler was transfixed on the asshole in front of him, the small brown pucker lurking in a thick forest of ass hair, ready for the taking. He stepped up, squeezing his solid shaft, feeling it pulse in his hand. His foreskin was already fully peeled tucked back, exposing his shiny helmet oozing with precum which negated the need for lube. But that asshole still needed to be primed.

As he edged his cock with his right hand, he scooped up some of the copious liquid and generously smeared two fingers of his left hand forming a cobweb of sperm between them. He crossed them and reached forward pointing them directly at Steve’s anus. He was surprised to realise his hand was shaking, but it didn’t hold him back, he started to use increased pressure to insert them through the tight anal ring.

Steve gave a loud deep guttural groan of pleasure as he was breached. That excited Tyler, he was pleasuring this hunk purely with his two fingers. He stopped being tentative and pushed in with more urgency.

It elicited another groan, and Tyler tunneled his fingers deep into Steve’s rectum, feeling the warm damp velvety walls. He didn’t mess around and sawed his fingers in and out, feeling the sphincter gradually slacken and lose some rigidity.

Far from rejecting Tylers fingers, his ass seemed to absorb them.

Steve then barked “Now gimme that cock!”

That made Tyler’s cock pulse. A string of precum was slow dripping to the floor. He pulled out his fingers with a slurp and scooped up the leaking liquid messaging it into his plump knob.

Leaning forward, he pressed his knob directly on Steve’s asshole. He looked down and saw Steve’s ass hairs greasily matted around the ribbed ring. He pushed forward – it was amazing to see the aperture open up and seemingly absorb the swollen helmet.

It was fucking tight and Steve’s deep growls increased a pitch as his asshole was stretched wider. Tyler had to force his cockhead through the tight sphincter muscle. The fingering might have helped but he should have used 3 fingers. Too late now.

To his credit, Steve didn’t ask him to slow down or stop, if anything he arched his back more and stuck out his ass as if to invite Tyler’s cock to invade him.

Tyler had never seen something so erotic. The mass of white wobbling flesh, separated by a hairy trench with his cock disappearing before his very eyes as he sunk into Steve’s asshole.

He watched as inch after inch plundered Steve’s hole, loving the tightness, the suction and the resistance as Tyler’s 7 inches wedged it’s way inside. Once anchored, Tyler grabbed fists full of pale ass meat and rammed in the rest of the way.

Steve gave out a high pitched yowl as he endured the onslaught. Tyler felt powerful, he’d never fucked a man like Steve before and he relished the dominant role as he withdrew to the tip and plunged in again. He balls slapped against Steve’s taint when he was fully embedded again.

Tyler grappled with fistsful of buttock meat as he rammed to and fro, letting his domineering mode possess him. This massive man, on his knees, at his mercy. Somehow Steve kept his dignity – he wasn’t whimpering, he was bellowing masculine grunts, the same kind as if he was powerlifting weights, each grunt of exertion matched each deep root of Tyler’s cock.

The great man swayed as Tyler built up a sweat, beads of perspiration rolled down his body only emphasizing the effort he was using to savage Steve’s ass. The sound of their bodies slapping together was drowned out by both of their synchronized groaning.

Tyler gave a little thought to what other sauna users might have made of their energetic rooting. Usually, he was a bit embarrassed of what others might hear but for this one time, with this stud, he didn’t care. They were working up the scales of passion that was going to end in a wild orgasmic crescendo.

Tyler heard the slicking of Steve’s hand working his own cock underneath as the giant man kept his balance on one hand. His body wobbling, coping with the onslaught and dealing with his own immediate needs.

The frantic rhythm could only last so long. Tyler moved his hands to Steve’s solid hips to firm his stance as he finally let go and experienced the overwhelming sensations of his cock pumping out rope after rope of cum deep inside Steve’s anus. Their bodies crashed together as Tyler unloaded, ass hair mashing pube hair as Steve’s cock was buried to the hilt as the powerful spurts died off.

Somewhere in the midst of Tyler’s powerful orgasm, Steve had also shot his load, the grunts had turned to panting as the two men recovered, sweat trickling down each body.

Tyler was unsure what to do next. He wasn’t used to be so in control of a man like this, so as his cock softened, he withdrew and there was the schloop of his escaping cockhead. Tyler looked down at Steve’s now-puffy reddened sphincter. He was transfixed as Steve seemed to pulse his anal muscle and a creamy stream of cum slowly escaped.

Tyler was proud of his ejaculation and in a spontaneous move, leant forward again, and fed his softening cock back into Steve’s rectum. The leaking cum eased the friction of re-entry and his helmet plugged the hole again scooping up and bottling what cum was still inside Steve’s well lubricated ass.

Tyler withdrew again, his cock dripping the remains of his load on the ground. Steve sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bench.

His face was reddened, and while he still looking menacing, his face had softened into a smirk. His chest hair was darkened by sweat and his fat soft cock almost hidden by his relaxed stomach, looked pitiful but still plentiful, nestled over his balls streaked with his own sperm.

He pulled Tyler in between his open thighs, embraced him and they kissed. It was the same passionate kiss but no longer in anticipation, but more like a reward for a ‘job well done’.

Together they smelt of sex – sweat and spent seed. The way Steve hugged Tyler was like a dad and his boy, still controlling but gentler. Their lips brushed each other rather than the tightly mashed lips of before. It was like they’d reached a new level of understanding.

Steve’s orders had turned to requests when he said “You want to shower together?” Tyler nodded and they both scooped up their towels and wrapped them around their waists. And they might have entered the cubicle as dom and sub but left as father-figure and his devoted son.

They got to the shower room, there were 8 open cubicles, 4 on each side facing each other. There was no room for modesty, guys had to shower and dry themselves in the exposed environment. Tyler usually just skipped in and out in the minimum of time. It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud of his body, he just wasn’t into exhibitionism and to be honest, was a bit embarrassed when revealing his shrivelled limp cock masked by an extended wrinkly foreskin as it gave no indication that it morphed into an impressive 7-inch pole.

Steve had no such qualms, and as they waited, as all the cubicles were being used, he was quite content to whisk off his towel, hang it over a random bar and stand there bollock naked.

Tyler took a sly look at the man’s body impressed by his confidence, for no way did he have a porn star stature. He was tall and broad; his rotund belly seemed less conspicuous because of his height. He was covered by a layer of fur that was turning gray, except for the forest of darker bushy pubes from which his fat limp cock protruded somehow still hinting at the larger size it was capable of.

Tyler didn’t want to reveal his embarrassment so he kept his towel tightened until a cubicle was free and tried to look nonchalant as they waited. The shower guys were obviously

checking them both out, Steve just stood there, arms folded almost daring anyone to approach him.

Finally, a guy finished drying himself off and left the room after a lingering glance at Steve’s flaccid tool. Tyler faked his bravado as he hung up his towel and made like it was no big deal to share a public cubicle.

Steve turned on the water and then manhandled Tyler into a position so that Tyler faced outwards with Steve close behind him. Tyler wasn’t comfortable but didn’t feel like he could protest so he allowed Steve to vigorously soap his back and then he felt Steve’s finger trace downwards forcefully pressing it between Tyler’s ass cheeks to eagerly search out his asshole.

It was too much for Tyler, being practically fingered in front of a group of voyeuristic horny guys. He turned to face Steve in a show of defiance and Steve smiled appreciatively as his ‘boy’ rebelled.

He gave Tyler the tablet of soap and indicated that Tyler should use it on him. It was very intimate being in the tiny cubicle, forced to be close together, almost but not quite touching bodies.

Tyler circled over Steve’s soft but muscular pecs. Steve was like a statue not giving any indication that he was enjoying the experience. In a devilish moment, Tyler pinched a nipple with some force. Steve gave a gasp of surprise and his eyes lit up. The massive statue didn’t move or object, far from it, the growl that he omitted was one of pleasure, not of pain. Tyler put the soap aside and squeezed the other nipple. His fingers were slippy from the soap, but he kept gripping them tighter in an effort to get more reactions from Steve.

Steve closed his eyes in ecstasy as he relished his nipples being abused. Tyler dared to dig his nails into Steve’s teats generating more animalistic groans. Tyler became oblivious to any of the guys who might have been watching the intense teasing.

Steve gasped his first words “Hold my cock.”

Tyler was unsure, it didn’t want to carry out a brazen sex act in public. He was astounded with the fact that Steve might have wanted to orgasm again when he’d only cum 10 minutes ago. But as Tyler obeyed the instruction, Steve’s cock remained limp. Tyler felt the soft tube of flesh in his hand. He tried squeezing some life into it but that wasn’t Steve’s intent.

“Not so tight” was the next instruction so Tyler loosened his grip slightly and as he looked down, he was shocked to see a yellow fountain squirting out of Steve’s frill covered knob.

“Pull it back.” Tyler meekly obliged, stunned by this very intimate act. He circled two fingers around Steve’s cock and edged the loose skin back to reveal Steve’s rounded knob and released an even stronger jet of urine.

In the tight confines of the cubicle, Steve’s piss splashed against Tylers thigh, only to be washed away by the water from the shower. Tyler was transfixed as he felt the warm liquid splatter against his thigh. For his part Steve’s eyes were still closed in satisfaction as he urinated against the boy.

As the pulse of piss spurts lessened, Steve opened his eyes. He took hold of Tylers chin and lifted it up and leant forward to kiss him. He then pulled the younger man towards him so their bodies touched. The tongue probing kiss continued and Tyler felt Steve hands travel down to his butt.

He felt each cheek being separated and then realised that his butthole was being deliberately exposed to whoever was in the room.

He knew Steve was teasing the audience but it still wasn’t Tyler’s scene and in a move of defiance, he moved out of Steve’s grasp and his first words in the whole scene were

“Let’s carry this on in private.”

Steve chuckled sensing Tyler’s discomfort but was happy to oblige. Tyler turned around and was met with several appreciative glances, some looked away embarrassed at being caught looking, whereas some were more brazen, obviously hoping for continuation of the live sex show.

Tyler dealt with his awkwardness by concentrating on toweling himself down. He glanced over at Steve and he couldn’t be sure if it was his imagination or not… Steve’s cock just seemed to be a little more plumped up………

I’ve written stories in the past about some of my piss play experiences. I was talking with one of my play partners at a gathering the other night and while I was a bit inebriated by booze and a gummy, I began to tell my buddy, Master James about some fantasies of mine that I never shared with anyone else before.

I told him that when I’ve been in public men’s rooms I’ve stepped up to urinals and seen urine stains all over them and sometimes stray pubic hairs and how I’d often thought about taking to my knees, taking huge whiffs to intoxicate myself with their glorious smells and then to lick them clean with my tongue. I’ve never actually done it, but the thought had passed my mind quite a few times and I even got off many times closing my eyes and visualizing myself doing this.

I saw Master James’s expression change to the devious look I’dever seen on another man.

”That’s quite a fantasy there, boy. How low are you willing to go? Don’t want to do this?”

“What? You mean now? I’m don’t know, Master James.”

He leaned over to me and said, “follow me, boy”, helping me make to commit to doing this. 

While we were not out in public, I wondered what he was up to. We were at a mutual friend’s house. The house had two bathrooms.

Master James pulled me by the forearm to the bathroom upstairs and closed and locked the door.

“Get on your knees, boy”, he commanded.

Btw, Master James is a Black man in his early 60’s, he works out and had competed in body building competitions in the past. His frame is massive standing at 6’2”. He has many piercings, one heavy silver loop in his septum, a large PA, both nips with thick heavy silver rings. No tattoos, a thick graying goatee. His erect cock is a little under eight inches and quite thick. When he commands you to do something, you do it.

So there I was on my knees in our friend’s bathroom. Master James kicked my butt gently over my jeans pushing me to the toilet.

“Let’s see what we have for you here”, he said.

I made my way over, kneeling over the toilet. The seat was up and sure enough there were piss stains all around the rim of the actual toilet and the bottom of the upright toilet seat.

“What are you waiting for, boy? Get to it.”

I was so turned on that this was actually going to happen. I lowered my face into the toilet and took a deep whiff. It smelled strong of piss and the stench crept through my nasal passages like poppers. I was for sure a little heady and did it a second time, moving my face back and forth to follow the trail of piss.

“How does it smell, boy?”

“Fucking amazing, Master”

“Hehehe. I’m sure it does. Go on, take a lick. Let me see you stick your tongue all the way out.”

I stuck my tongue out as far as I could and the tip connects with the first splotch on the rim of the toilet. I felt so dirty, so gross, but I didn’t care. Once the tip of my tongue made contact with that dried piss and I tasted its bitterness, I was all in. I began to moan like a pig. I was now fully swiping my tongue over any dried urine I could find on that toilet until it was all clean.

“Holy fuck, boy. You did it. You fucking loved it, didn’t you?”

“Yes Master”.

I felt delirious, like on another planet. I was sure if my cock wasn’t caged up I would have been insanely hard.

“There’s more for you right there, boy.”, Master James pointed to the upright toilet seat.

He wasn’t kidding. There was more for me to taste. I think I actually hugged the toilet seat as my tongue made love to it. Sniffing and licking, losing myself in this act of absolute depravity.

When I thought I was finished I was back upright on my knees.

“Thank you, Master James”, I said.

“You’re not done yet, boy. Flip the seat down, I’m sure there’s more there for you.”

It crossed my mind that our mutual friend, Matt, sits on this toilet seat, but I wasn’t thinking straight. I looked for more dried piss and found just a little more to enjoy.

Just as I was finishing up, there was a knock on the door.

“Almost done”, Master James said, then he whispered to me, “Stand up and I’m taking you to the downstairs bathroom next.”

Master James opened the door and this other friend, Steve was surprised to see the two of us walking out together.

“Oh, hey Steve, the toilet’s nice and clean for ya”, Master James said and laughed.

I’m not sure if Steve figured out what that meant or not, but Master James had me by the forearm again and we waited for the bathroom occupant to come out before we both squeezed in.

“You know what to do boy. On your knees.”

This bathroom had been in use all night and there was so much more for me to experience. Different smells, different tastes, but I was truly pigging out on being a human toilet brush. Thankfully there were no scat remnants or I’m not sure I would have done this.

After cleaning the second toilet, Master James took out his cock and stood over the toilet.

I leaned over and took his pierced dick down my throat from the right side of the bowl and let him piss down my throat for a bit before coming up for air and then I shoved my face in there like I was drinking out of a water fountain.  My face was covered in urine. It was warm and wet, sticky and smelly, and I fucking loved it.

Master James pulled me up from my knees when he finished and had me look in the mirror at myself.

“You see what a pig you are? Your face is a mess, boy. But you don’t care, so you? Fucking gross licking toilets, but you fucking get off on it boy.”

I did look pretty bad. My eyes were red from the sting of piss, my tongue was tangy, my face felt like it was sticky as Master’s piss dried.

I wasn’t grossed out by my appearance, I was wildly turned on. The idea that in a few minutes when we returned to the party everyone would see me like this made me excited.

Sir James opened the door and we walked back to where the main part of the party was happening. I saw guys sniffing the air and looking my way, but none said anything or asked anything, so I didn’t volunteer anything, but I didn’t think I needed to. It would be obvious enough.

After another thirty minutes or so Master James walked back over to me.

“How you feeling boy?”

“I’m good, Master.”

“I bet you are. You know I told them what you did.”

“You did?”

“You did…who?”

“You did, Master James?”

“That’s better. I ain’t no commoner that you just met on the street, you better address me the right way, boy. Yes, I fucking did. They think you’re a fucking pig and I told them that you are. Does that excite you to be exposed like that?”

“Oh yes Master James.”

“They know the truth about you, what you are, a filthy piss pig.”

“Yes Master.”

“How does that feel boy?”

“Good Master!”

“I know they were toilets and not urinals, not exactly your fantasy.”

“No Master James, but that’s ok.”

“No, it’s not ok. Your fantasy involved urinals. Why don’t we get out of here.”

“Where are we going Master James?”, I asked.

“Just come with me boy.”

I got into the passenger seat of his truck and he quickly rolled down his window.

“Damn boy, you still smell like a urinal cake.”

“Sorry Master James”

“Don’t be sorry, this is your fantasy. I’m just helping you live it.”

I realized pretty quickly that we were headed to an old gay bar that had seen better days.

Master James found some street parking a couple of blocks away and I walked behind him not wanting to inconvenience him with my awful smell.

We walked in and Master James quickly strolled up to the bar and bought a beer. He took a sip and then nodded for me to go to the men’s room.

When I entered, there were two urinals side by side and one toilet stall. One guy was taking a leak when Master James joined me. He waited for the other guy to close his zipper and leave us.

“Well boy, there you are. Two urinals are better than one don’t you think?”

My heart was beating so fast. When I woke up that morning I never imagined I’d be doing this, but here I was kneeling in front of one of the two urinals and I lowered my head down, stuck my tongue out and began swiping away, almost in some sort of trance.

Master James snuck up behind me and pushed my head down.

“There you go, pig, enjoy yourself. Use your tongue. Get in there.”, he encouraged me.

Having Master James watch me swine out in that urinal was exhilarating. I felt my cock stiffen in its confines and began to squeeze my balls over my jeans.

Master James pushed my hand away from my crotch with his foot then he flushed the urinal and drenched me.

“No, not yet. There’s one more urinal for you to worship, boy.”

Master James was right. I hadn’t finished the job yet.

I looked up at him. My eyes were burning, my face was wet and sticky. My tongue was almost numb from all the licking of porcelain and urine, my nostrils flared. I’m sure I looked depraved.

Master James smiled widely and took a long swig of the bottle of beer in his hand.

“Why did you stop boy?”

I couldn’t even speak. I was just in my own head on the dirty tiled floor of a disgusting bathroom in a grimy bar.

Seconds later, the door swung open and some young guy came around and saddled up to the empty urinal that is just cleaned with my tongue.

He looked at Master James and then down at me on my knees in front of the other urinal.

“Wazzup”, he said.

If he was feeling awkward he certainly didn’t show it.

“Young man…why piss in that urinal when my pig is available? Look at him, he loves piss, don’t you boy?”

“Yes Master James.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, just put your dick in his mouth and he’ll take care of the rest. You’ll see.”, Master James assured him.

The young man who couldn’t have been older than 25, decent body, dark hair, walked over with his cock dangling between his legs, through his open fly. It looked decent enough but honestly I wasn’t paying attention to that. I wanted him to drain his bladder down my throat.

I reached out and grabbed his shaft and pulled him in closer. Then, I opened my mouth and placed his cock in between my lips and formed a tight seal. I closed my eyes and waited for the kiss to begin pouring down my esophagus.

In a few seconds I felt his cock jerk and just a fraction of a second later, the first drops of warm urine left his dick and that began a heavy and thick stream that was difficult to keep up with. This boy had drank a lot of beer because I could taste it in his piss. It was fowl and I loved it. I timed my swallowing just right to minimize the dripping of piss on the floor, but it kept flowing and flowing and I lost the battle and eventually he was pissing all over my face and my shirt. I made a second attempt to swallow his cock again and successfully guzzled the rest of his flow down my throat.

I removed his cock, shook it over my tongue and tucked it back into his boxer briefs and zipped him up.

“What do you say to the young man, pig boy?

“Thank you, Sir”

The kid left and then I was face to face with the urinal once again, after drinking straight from the hose, I was ravenous for more, to go full on wild boar. I found the largest sized piss stain on the front part of the urinal and attacked it with my tongue and lips, licking and sucking  like I was blowing it. The flavor hitting my taste buds made me sick with more need to have more. I was blindly swiping my tongue back and forth on the outside of the urinal before Master James pushed my face right into the urinal cake.

“Mmmmm mmmmm”, I was now in another planet. I was eating out that urinal for a good 10-15 minutes, my entire face slick with the most disgusting combinations of urine and water and god knows what else. This time there were many stray pubic hairs that fell into my mouth, too.

When I was finished I turned my head around towards Master James who had finished that beer.

“Thank you, Master James. That was incredible. Thank you.”

I honestly was grateful that Master James let me turn fantasy to reality. If it wasn’t for him, none of this would have happened.

“Master James.”

“Yes boy?”

“What can I do for you? I feel like I owe you something for all of this?”

“Oh, you do, boy. I’ve been thinking about that while watching you filthy pig.”

“And what have you decided, Master James?”

“I’ve decided you’re gonna blow me until I blast down your throat.”

“Ok”

“Ok? Just ok? Ok what?”

“Ok Master James.”

“Get into that stall right now and I want to see you on your knees, boy, ready for my dick.”

I scurried over to the empty stall and dropped down to my knees and opened my mouth. I was still smelling something awful, my entire face was sticky and my shirt was drenched.

Master James burst through the stall door and pulled his cock out from his jeans and it was already very hard. The PA hoop shined under the flourcent lights.

My lips kissed the tip of his pierced cock and I took the head in my mouth and swirled the PA ring in my mouth with my tongue.

I opened wider and slowly swallowed all of his eight inches until my nose was in his thick patch of dark pubes.

“Ohhh that’s nice. Work my dick, boy.”

Master James held his hands on his hips and I glanced upward toward him to lock eyes as he watched me repeatedly swallow his cock, up and down. Then I closed my eyes and Master James started thrusting his hips, punching my throat open.

I figure Master James wasn’t too keen on touching me as I was kind of defiled and gross, but he held o to the wall of the stall for leverage as his cock thickened and he continued to pound away at my throat. I could feel his cock stiffen so I knew he was getting close and I was right.

Master James let out a small muffled roar as his cock danced in my closed mouth and I felt and tasted that creamy load filling my mouth. I let it all accumulate there, opened my mouth, showed him his own load that I’d collected, then closed my mouth and swallowed hard.

“Good boy”, Master James said.

“Thank you, Master James”

“Come on, go wash your face and take off that shirt. Let’s get you home.”

“Do I have to, Master James?”

“You don’t want to clean up?”

“No…I want to stay like this for a while.”

“It’s your choice.”

Master James rode with the window open again. He dropped me off in front of my building and said good-bye, not touching at all.

I thanked him several more times.

When he finally left me and I made my way up to my apartment I was still amped up.

I stripped down to my jockstrap and laid in my tub. I began to piss and the white fabric turned yellow before my eyes. The warm feeling of my own urine dripping down my sides was incredibly hot. I used my fingers and hands and bathed myself in my own piss.

When I’d finished pissing, I pulled off the jockstrap and held it over my open mouth and squeezed it, allowing for all the soaked up piss to drip down. When I wrung it out enough, I stuffed it into my mouth.

I kept it there smelling it, tasting it, while twisting my tits and pulling and tugging on my balls.

I needed to orgasm so bad. I pulled myself out of the tub, laid a towel on the bathroom floor and took one of my lubed butt plugs and began to fuck my own hole with it. My legs splayed open, I punch myself with it, getting me hotter and hotter until I erupted and white cream spilled out of my black Viper cock cage.

When I looked at myself in the mirror I swear I felt like such a pig faggot. With the buzz of alcohol and weed wearing off the reality of what is done hit me. I wouldn’t say I was ashamed, but I would say I was proud of myself for doing what I did. I wasn’t ready to clean myself off. I wanted to wallow in all that dried piss all over my body so I laid that towel down on my bed and just laid there in silence, feeling the endorphins move through my body, making me feel good…until I gradually closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I got what only I assumed was an accidental text from my son Blake’s best friend, Skylar, a few weeks back. A common mistake. I’ve done it. He had texted me the day before asking if I could help fix his car. He must have still had the text window up and thought he was texting someone else because until now, I didn’t even know he was gay. The picture was of him on all fours, on a bed, wearing nothing but black, thigh-high stockings and black, thong panties. He was looking at the camera over his shoulder with a smirk on his face. It shocked me.

Skylar was 18, almost 19, confident, obnoxious, cocky, and he knew he was hot, but I liked him. He was a good kid. He was charming when he wanted something. He was so attractive that all he had to was flash those white teeth, He was definitely not the type anyone suspected of being a sissy. 

I had some experience with guys like him, jock sissy types. I was closeted, hooking up with guys on Grinder. The guys I hooked up with skewed young, and always athletic, masculine types. I liked the closeted ones because I know they would be discreet. I love being a hot daddy type. I love it when a hot dude called me daddy while I fucked him. I loved seeing a young, athletic guy who could be butch one minute, but then spin the bill of his ball cap around and suck my dick. I also found I attracted a certain subset of jock. They were jocks who had daddy issues, and they wanted to make me happy; they wanted my approval. So when I made them wear panties, they did it, no questions asked. I get off on turning a jacked guy into a sexy bitch. Seeing that pic made me suspect Skylar was wearing lingerie even without needing a daddy’s approval.

I noticed a couple of years back that Skylar was filling out, he looked amazing in his baseball uniform, those stretch polyester pants molding to his round, bubbled ass. The tight uniform shirt molded to his chest and biceps. He was boy-next-door cute. But he was my son’s best friend since they were 12. And at the time, he was only 17, so I instantly scolded myself for having those kinds of thoughts.

I didn’t text back. I was in total shock and wouldn’t even know what to say anyway. I didn’t want to embarrass him. And I didn’t want to out him to my son. But I didn’t delete the picture. The more I looked at it, the more aroused it made me. The way the stockings looked on him, so feminine but his legs were so masculine. I started to imagine him dressed like this and getting fucked by men. Enough of these kinds of thoughts and soon I was jacking it to that pic every night, and cumming gallons. In the days that followed I felt a little guilty every time I saw him which was all the time since he hung out with my kid, playing video games, swimming in the pool, whatever. I saw him almost every day and I kept picturing him in the sexy lingerie. Then I would start to catch him staring at me sometimes, as if he knew that I knew about him. I would look away but there was some kind of tension in the air. He was acting like he had a secret that he wanted to tell.

One day, when I was working from home, Skylar showed up to hang by the pool. It was just me, the family wasn’t home, but he was welcome to use the pool anytime he wanted, even if my son wasn’t around. That day Skylar whipped down his shorts by the pool and revealed that he was wearing a speedo, which he had never done before. Sexy as fuck. It was red, skintight, molded to his baseball jock ass, high cut on his thighs. He must had come from the gym because his muscles were pumped, and his body was shaved smooth. The red speedo could have been a red pair of panties if I squinted.

I took a deep breath and made my way outside. I tried to act nonchalant as I came outside to the pool. He was standing there scrolling on his phone, his back to me. I salivated at his wide back, narrow waist, bubble ass, and developed hamstrings. I considered standing there and watching him for a while longer. All I kept seeing was those stockings on his jock legs.

“Hey, Skylar,” I said with a nod and a smile.

“Sup, Mr. F.” There was that huge white smile. “I didn’t know you were going to be here. Working from home today?”

“Yeah. I’ve been doing that a lot more often lately. No one’s here so I usually get a lot done.”

He looked embarrassed. “Oh! Is it ok that I came over today? I can leave if you want me to.” I could tell that he didn’t mean what he was saying. He was being polite, but insincere.

“No, no. You’re fine. You’re welcome to use the pool whenever. I trust you.” I had to try and mentally shut off the images of him I was seeing in my head.

“Thanks, Mr. F. I have nothing to do today, and I’m bored. Thought I would work on my tan,” he said while holding his arm out to show me his skin. But he was tan already. He had silky, smooth skin, tan, and his biceps and triceps bulged.  I swallowed hard trying to act like he wasn’t going to make my dick hard. He had the cockiest crocked smile as he tensed the muscle on his arm. The tension in the air grew thicker.

I laughed. “You’re tanner than you think you are.”

“You think? Nah, I don’t think so.”

I watched him give himself a once over, his abs tightened as if he were doing it on purpose. I couldn’t keep my eyes off that red speedo. I had to say something. He normally wore some kind of trunk when he swam.

“You’re definitely going to have some interesting tan lines in that suit.” I kept seeing lacy panties.

He looked down at his suit and then back to me. He laughed and shrugged.

“Do you usually wear skimpy suits this this?” I asked hanging on his every word.

He smiled. “When I’m alone. I know I would get shit from my buddies if I wore speedos around them, but I like wearing them. They’re sexy as fuck, yeah?”

I think I blushed. I chuckled nervously. He was being very obvious. What the fuck was his game? I scoffed. “They’re just jealous, Skylar. If they saw you right now… in that suit, they would just feel insecure,” I said and then suddenly wished I hadn’t said that.

He smirked at me. “Thanks! I mean, I don’t want to brag but look at this shit.” He flexed his arms. “Who wouldn’t be jealous?” His cocky smirk was sexy as fuck. “I’m fucking jacked.”

I chuckled at the boy. He was totally bragging, and he knew it. “You are jacked,” I said. “Hot.”

He smiled and held eye contact. I looked down and then back again. He was still smirking and looking at me. He knew I was interested. He knew he had me.

“I’ve always been jealous of Blake,” Skylar said as if changing the subject.

I looked at him confused. “What? Why?”

“Because he has you for a dad.”

“What’s wrong with your dad?”

“Nothing. But having you as a dad would be awesome. You’re nothing like other dads. You’re not bald, you’re not fat. You still look hot. I bet you get that a lot, don’t you?”

I blushed as I shrugged. “I have good genetics. It’s easy for me to pack on muscle.”

“I noticed.” He bit his bottom lip which was sexy.

We were quiet for a while. I think he was waiting for me to say something. But he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall, crossing his ankles. “Why didn’t you reply to my text?”

I froze and looked at him. His ripped, muscular, jock body glistening from the pool. I just stared at him, and he stared at me, his face was very serious. He lost his signature smirk. I said nothing.

“Mr. F?” 

I started and then stopped. That was my confirmation that he sent it on purpose. I looked around to make sure no one was around, knowing there wasn’t but I was paranoid. “I… I thought you sent me that picture accidentally,” I said.

“Nope,” he simply stated. 

I know I looked surprised. “I text back anything because I didn’t want to embarrass you if you accidently sent it to me.”

“It was for you,” he said. “You know it was. If you didn’t know then, you know now.”

I began to sweat. I looked around again. I looked back and swallowed hard. I leaned in and asked, “Skylar, what are you doing?”

“I bet that pic is still on your phone,” he said. He said it like he was reading my mind.

I looked at him and then shook my head, but I wasn’t saying I didn’t have it. I was telling him that I was caught and I knew it.

“How did you know?”

He smirked at me. “You should be more careful with your Grinder profile, Mr. F,” he said. 

My face turned white. I started to tremble. “Shit.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, ‘daddy4jocksissy’” That was my Grinder handle. I didn’t have a face pic so I’m not sure how he knew it was me.

I tried to remember all the guys I chatted with but never hooked up with. I went through my mental database of descriptions, pictures, anything that would tell me who Skylar was online. Then I saw a mole near his naval. I’d seen that before. Then I felt like an idiot. That mole, his etched abs, the tan skin.

“’Jacked panty boy?’” I said.

“Bingo, Mr. F. That’s me.”

I was embarrassed. “You can’t say anything.”

He gave me a raised eyebrow. “Dude, why would I tell anyone? Everyone would know I’m on Grinder too. Duh. ‘Jacked panty boy’ isn’t exactly something I want spreading around.”

I was a little relieved. “So Blake doesn’t know? About me or you?”

“God, no,” he scowled. “He thinks I’m straight as an arrow.”

“Oh,” I said sounding relieved. “You and I have chatted a few times. I assumed whomever I was chatting with was on the downlow because we never hooked up.”

“When I realized it was you, Mr. F… I wanted to hook up. But you know, kind hard with Blake around. I knew I had to be careful. I had to wait for the best time.”

“Wait, how did you know it was me online?”

He laughed. “A word of advice about hook-up app faceless selfies. If you’re on the downlow, always take your phone case off your phone.”

“Fuck,” I mumbled. I felt like an idiot. I thought I was being discreet.

“Yeah. Not too many guys out there with a phone case like yours. I’ve seen it a million times.”

My phone case looks like a vintage cassette tape. On the label I wrote “Harvard Mix” which was where I went to college. The case reminded me of a real mixed tape I made while at Harvard and that’s what I titled it.

“Harvard Mix.”

He nodded. “Harvard Mix.”

He pushed off the wall with his elbow. He reached up and swiped imaginary lint off the sleeve of my t-shirt, then his hand lingered.

“I…,” I stammered. I stepped back. “Skylar…we can’t do this.”

He was amused at my attempt to thwart his advances. “You never said if you liked that pic. I mean, of course you did, right?”

I looked at him with trepidation. “I did,” I replied quietly but forcefully. He was taking control, and I didn’t like it. He had me where he wanted me. He was silent as he smiled at me. I just looked back at him, taking in his blue eyes, dark wavy hair.

“Well?” he asked.

“Well, what?”

“Are you gonna fuck me or what, Stephen?”

My body went slack, and I was sweating. He used my first name for the first time ever. “You just come over to your best friend’s house and ask his dad to fuck you. Ballsy little fucker.”

“Well, online we talked about doing it. I’ve wanted your dick since I was 14; as soon as I knew I was gay. I know you want to fuck me, Stephen.”

“It’s weird when you call me by my first name.”

Skylar ignored the comment. “Let’s fuck. I brought some pretty things to wear for you,” he said in a sing-song tone.

I perked up. “Wha…. what? You did?” I must have sounded like a fucking moron. 

“You bet your hot ass I did.” He was grinning now. 

“Oh shit,” I mumbled. I knew we would be alone for the rest of the day and into the evening. “You’re my kid’s best friend.”

He rolled his eyes and put his hand on my forearm. “And I don’t give a flying fuck. He’s not the one I want to fuck. I want his dad.” He put his hand on my hard dick that was pushing out my shorts. “I’m going to put on some pretty panties for you, some stockings, and then I want to suck your dick and eat all your fucking daddy cream. Then I’m gonna spread my bitch legs for you and you’re gonna smash my jock pussy until you cum again.”

“Oh god,” I whispered. Then he pulled my arm as he walked back inside. I felt like I was floating above myself as I was being led though my house. I watched his tight, muscular little ass in those tiny speedos. His muscular back flexed. My dick ached to get inside. 

He led me to the bedroom. He told me to stay, and he went into my son’s room. He came back wearing black nylon thigh high stockings, thong, and garter belt. He told me to sit back and relax. He dropped down to his knees, opened my shorts and dived down onto my cock. Holy shit, he was a good cocksucker. And he stood by his word because he sucked me until I came and then sucked some more. 

Then he took off my shorts, laid me back on the bed, and straddled me. That’s when he leaned forward and kissed me. And fuck me, he was a great kisser. 

After the kissing, I looked up at him. “How are you such a great ki…”

“Lots of experience,” he said cutting me off. 

He produced a tube of lube. He reached behind him and took my cock. He slathered it with lube and tossed the tube aside. Then he came up on his knees, still reaching behind, he aimed my cock at his hole, and he slowly sat down. His eyes were closed, his teeth clenched as he slowly descended on my cock. I watched his determined face. His muscles flexed, his quads trembled. I grasped the sides of his waist and helped pull him down. We were both moaning and groaning. It was the tightest hole I’d ever been inside of. When he hit bottom, he grunted, took a deep breath, and then looked down at me with a grin.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. He was such a bro, and he said it like a bro. “That’s good dick.”

“Oh shit,” I whispered. 

He pushed down on my chest, using it as leverage as he slowly lifted himself. He gasped and then let himself back down. 

“Your dick is so fucking big,” he groaned. 

“You’re doing fine.” I watched his stockinged legs, the sexy fabric stretching around his quads and calves. 

He posted himself slowly and then sped up. Soon he was bouncing up and down on my dick like it was a fucking stability ball at the gym. His face was staring at me. His teeth clenched. It was like he was on a mission. And that mission was to drain me.

“Fuck yeah,” he hissed. “Waited so long for this dick. You’re gonna wreck my pussy, Stephen.”

I nodded. “You’re so fucking sexy. Fucking sexy sissy jock boy.”

“Yeah? You like your sissy jock boy pussy?” he said it seductively. 

“Oh my god, I fucking love my sissy jock boy’s pussy.”

He settled down all the way and gyrated his ass on my dick. He looked down at me. “Fuck my pussy. Fuck my sissy jock pussy.”

My heart raced suddenly. “Oh yeah, baby boy. Ride that dick.”

“Fuck my pussy… daddy,” he said in a breathy, sexy voice. 

Something happened inside of me when he called me daddy. I reared up, flipped him on his back and entered him again. 

He groaned loudly and then he gasped. “Oh fuck YES!” he yelled. His legs were on my shoulders. “Wreck my pussy, daddy! I’ll be a good little muscle girl for you.” His voice was low which made what he was saying even sexier.

He was saying all the right things. This gorgeous, cute, athletic, butch jock was calling me daddy and telling me to fuck his pussy, dressed in slutty lingerie. What more could I want?

I kissed him hard. Then I sat back, grabbed his ankles and spread his legs wide. “Do you want to be my little jock girl? My little muscle girl with a sweet jock pussy?”

He nodded quickly a few times. He became serious. His eyes were intense. It was like someone poured gasoline on him and lit him on fire. His low, baritone voice growled. “Fuck yeah I’m your fucking muscle girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck his muscle girl’s pussy whenever he wants on the down low. Gonna be your mistress. All I want is to be your side pussy.”

My eyes got big. “Jesus fucking Christ, kid!” I hollered before I tensed up and exploded in that jock pussy. I came the hardest I ever had. 

“Fuck yeah! Cum in your little jock girl’s pussy! Get my jock cunt sticky wet.”

The shit coming out of his mouth was intoxicating. I now had my own butch little muscle pussy. 

I pulled out of him. 

“Oh my god, fuck yeah! That was the best dick I’ve ever had,” he said gleefully. 

“There’s a lot more of that… princess,” I growled. 

He licked his bottom lip and smiled. “Princess? That’s fucking sexy. Am I your princess?”

“Oh fuck yeah, you are. My little jock princess.”

Fuck yeah,” he whispered. 

“You got more of these pretty things,” I asked running my hand over his stockinged thigh. 

He shrugged. “Some. Not much. Shit is expensive.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry then. I’ll order some more things for you, princess. Got to keep my little jock girl looking pretty.”

“This is hotter than I dreamed it would be.” He wrapped his ankles around my waist.

“You know what’s hot? You walking around here all butch, talking shit with Blake, talking about girls and he doesn’t know that you’re his dad’s little bitch.”

Skylar looked up at me and gasped. “Fuck, that’s hot. Tell me again.”

“You’re my little bitch. I’m gonna fuck your tight jock pussy all the time from now on.”

“Fuck, yeah,” he hissed. “Fucking fuck yeah.”

“You’re my butch little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy. I want to be your jacked up cunt.”

“I’ll cunt you,” I said when I inserted back into him.

“Fuuuuuk, daddy,” he moaned as I sank in.

“After I cum inside your pussy again, we’re going shopping.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. I’ve got to get my new muscle girl some new things to wear. Would you like that, princess?”

Skylar was feeling my dick his is nut. “Uh huh, daddy,” he whimpered.

“Good girl,” I cooed into his ear. “My little muscled up sissy faggot.”

“Yes, daddy.”

I looked at my watch. “We have until 9:00 tonight. We’ll go shopping. Come back here and I’ll put one more load in your pussy before everyone gets back.”

“Deal.”

“Remember, Skylar. This is real. You keep that big, buff body nice and tight for me. I want my big strong boy to be a big strong bitch for me. You keep it tight. Got it?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Daniel goes into work on Monday morning as usual.  He then sits down at his work computer to read his company’s email correspondence.

He sees that one is one email is addressed to him that is generically written with the header “Dear Valued Team Member”.

Once Daniel read that his stomach starts to get into knots in that he has heard the rumors around the office in that many low level “team member” like himself are either given a choice to either relocate to another city or be let go due to his company’s current relocation financial  restructuring plan.   

Daniel also reads that he has an appointment with his immediate supervisor and head of HR tomorrow at 8:00 sharp to discuss further details as well as he may take the rest of the day off from work with full pay in order to consider either a severance, relocation package, or possibly be deemed redundant thus terminated.

Daniel then reads the email several times over to get the grasp of what entails in that he was just getting accustomed to living in this city after spending so much time working on his late father’s corn farm in Nebraska that he has no wish to leave it considering that he met someone and have become very intimate with one another as that they share an apartment together.

As Daniel walks out of the office building that he works in struggles to tell his boyfriend Luke in that he will either move to another city or lose his job.

As Daniel walks down to the elevator and to the street, all he can think is about is Luke and how madly in love with him in that while they have known each other for half a year as well as that he could lose his job considering that he is the big  bread winner in their relationship.

Daniel then solemnly walks his way out of his soon to be former workplace office building, take the subways and bus to his crappy apartment building where he shares the place with his boyfriend and unlocks the door.

Once he enters it Daniel just enter it and as he approaches the bedroom that both Luke and him share with one another, he hears a lot of grunting and moaning as well as Luke saying “aww fuck my fine ‘Papi’ give it to me your hot Latin chorizo so hard.”

Daniel then opens up the door to his and Luke’s shared bedroom to see that his boyfriend is squatted down on their shared bed while being man bred hard in the rear by some other guy.

Daniel just says, “aww fuck Luke, really?”

Luke then pulls his bottom from the guy that has been breeding him quickly and says, “aww fuck Danny you are home early.  I wasn’t fucking expecting you to be here so soon.”

Daniel then replies back “but seems that Diego from the gay bar that you work at did so maybe he can cover for the rent.”

Luke then gets out of the bed and says, “what the fuck do you mean Danny, I thought that we had something together?”

Daniel replies back, “no we don’t Luke, not anymore.  I’ll be gone by the end of day tomorrow so that you and your hot Latin man slut can make this place your fuck pad until then.”

Daniel then exits his soon to be former apartment and quickly calls his boss phone.

The call goes to voice mail so Daniel leaves a message and says, “hey Donovan, it’s me Daniel, I am eager to look forward in staying with the company and willing to relocated to where ever they need me best so give me a call back when you can.”

Chapter One

Cameron had always found joe a bit strange. His 70-something year old neighbour obviously had a bit of an obsession with him, oggling his ass every time he passed by his apartment and finding every excuse to knock on his door. 

He hadn’t thought much about joe, but did notice his absence the past week. Like clockwork, he would usually be sitting in the common area at 7pm on a thursday when cam got back from the gym. his flatmate len had noticed the routine and would joke that joe was probably waiting around to get a sniff of his sweaty pits, which made cam cringe a bit given len himself had a similar routine of being in the living room every time cam took a shower. He sensed a freudian slip in len’s jab at joe.

Of course cam had no problem with len being gay, but he could seriously cut down on the oggling of his body every time he walked in the room. More than once he had noticed len hiding a boner when cam would walk around shirtless in the flat. Indeed, he had to at one point have a talk with len after one of his parties where len got a bit too drunk and begged to suck his dick. Since then, len has been a little more subtle in his approach.

Cam wasn’t unfamiliar with this type of attention from men. he did maintain a pretty tight physique, gyming 4 times a week aswell as playing soccer. Len had often complimented him on his pecks, which he worked on twice a week, calling them his ‘gorilla tits’ – not cam’s favourite phrase. And, although women usually didn’t care too much, he was aware he had a pretty great ass. it plump but muscular and often when he’d use the gym showers he’d get a few stares. He knew if he was gay he’d get alot of action easily but he never looked at a guy twice.

It was only on the second week, when an ambulance came to their apartment complex, that cam realised joe had passed away. The family came to collect all his things and before they left one of joe’s nephews, carl, knocked on cam’s door.

“he left this for you” carl said, handing cam a hand-sized strangely shaped package. 

“for me? I’m surprised…sorry i didn’t really know him”

“yeah definitely for you man…he left two notes with pretty explicit instructions, it seemed pretty important to him that you have it. he seemed to really like you”

“alright…well thank you carl..sorry for your loss”

“thanks man, hope it’s a nice gift”

Cam closed the door and went back into the apartment. 

“what the hell was that about?” asked len, chilling in the living room.

“it was joe’s nephew, he left something for me”

“oh shit man…do you think it’s some weird sex thing? Like his last jizz or his used underwear?”

Cam rolled his eyes “come on man-he just died. Maybe it’s something nice”

Cam opened the package and found a wooden totem attached to a with green, emerald eyes. It was some sort of necklace. Strangely, he felt as if the thing was actually looking at him. 

“what is that thing? Are those real emeralds?!” len said

“i don’t know…i remember joe mentioning he travelled a bit. i guess he must have gotten it from that-anyway i’m gonna head to bed”

“alright dude, night!” len replied

Cam went to his room and stripped down to his boxers. He was about to go to bed when he took another look at the totem. For some reason, he felt a sudden urge to try it on. looking in the mirror, he took it in his hands, raised the necklace above his head and let it fall onto his neck.

The second it touched his skin, he was propelled out of his body. He still looked through his own eyes but sensed he couldn’t control any of his actions.

“what the fuck?!” he thought, unable to move his lips.

He then watched as a massive smile slowly grew upon his face. Even on a different face, he recognised it.

“joe?!” 

“hello again baby” his body replied, in his voice.

“what the hell??!”

“fuck i’ve never got to see you this naked before” his body continued. As it spoke, looking at itself in the mirror, his hands rubbed his chest and moved up towards his tits giving them a squeeze. His dick was already hard and then he started massaging it over his underwear. Despite not being able to control his actions, he still felt every part. He could feel his body getting turned on…by himself.

“let’s see the whole thing” his body said, pulling down the black briefs containing his erection. Suddenly his whole body was on display, including his cock at full hardness. A meager 5 inches.

“oh cammy…” his body chuckled. Cam had already been slightly self conscious about his dick size, but seeing his body laugh at himself was particularly demoralising. “not a grower or a  shower huh?”

“how about the other side?” it continued and he turned around to reveal his plump ass. “oh that’s much better” it said, and then gave him a hard spank on the ass. “check out that jiggle, man it feels so good to finally get a go in this thing”

“what the fuck is going on” cam thought as urgently as he could.

“oh sorry cammy, i should probably explain right” his body laughed. “as you seem to have figured out, it’s old joe and what you’re wearing right now is a totem i picked up in australia. Legend has it that the aboriginal tribe leaders used to wear it, believing it passed down the spirits of their ancestors. Each generation the leader would dorn the necklace and in doing so offer their body to the spirit of the original clan leader”

Cam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How is any of this real..

“a bit kooky, i know. Eventually, the leader was killed and as a result their spirit permanently removed from the totem. However, as i theorised, the totem still works.” his body, now undisputibly joe, smiled.

“so you can see where things go from there. When i died, i infused my spirit into the totem and the second you put it on, you gave up your body to me. luckily, you still get to stick along for the ride though. Plus i seem to have access to every memory and thought you have” joe spanked his ass again. Cam psychically winced. “and…you seem to feel everything i feel too – delicous.”

“you can’t…this can’t be…why??” cam frantically thought.

“oh cammy come on. we both know i’ve wanted to fuck you since day one, but we also know you’re as straight as they come. And look at this thing.” joe gestered towards their ass “it’s meant to be fucked. It’s always the straight guys with the incredible asses – so i might not get to fuck you myself but i’m gonna touch you in ways you haven’t even imagined.”

“joe please you can’t do th-” cam’s thought was cutoff by joe spreading his ass to reveal his hole. “god it’s so pink- you’re pretty hairy down here” joe said. As he did so he used cam’s othher hand to wank his cock. “god this feels so fucking good” joe continued, circling a finger around his hole “are you a virgin down here – wait let me check”

Cam felt joe rummagiing through his mind, sorting through his most intimate memories like files. “oh you are…perfect” joe said. As he plopped one finger in – “yep really tight, we’ll fix that” joe said. 

All the while cam was in full panic mode. He knew this was wrong, but he couldn’t gather his thoughts due to the barrage of stimuli his body was receiving. He had never been into ass stuff, but part the part of joe’s mind that was in him clearly was because every pump of his finger felt amazing. It wasn’t as if cam had never jerked off infront of the mirror before but he had never felt it like this. His body…wanted to fuck itself. It was so strange-he tried to form a thought to joe.

“jo-e..e st-o..ahh fuhh” he attempted

Joe laughed. It was strange hearing his own laugh when it wasn’t him, cam thought. Joe turned around to get a look at the cock he was stroking, while keeping the finger in cam’s ass pumping at his g-spot. Cam saw his own eyes rolling back in his head. 

“god your voice is so hot” joe said and made some moaning sounds “fuck and those moans – i can’t believe i finally get to see you like this” cam could feel himself getting closer and knew the telltale signs were there that he was about to cum. he was still in shock not believing this could happen.

Joe’s pace quickened and his moans raised pitch slightly as he fucked cam’s cock into his hand. “your body..is fucking…mine” joe moaned. And with that he came hard on the mirror. Cam hadn’t wanked off in a few days so the load kept coming, covering a good portion of it. 

“uhh uhh uhhhhhhh” joe exclaimed and the load continued pumping out. his eyes eventually closed in satifaction and then opened up as the last squirts of cum left his cock.

“wow man. it feels so different from when i wanked my old body off…more intense. Your … our legs are fucking shaking dude”

Cam could barely form a thought, still recovering from the orgasm. “and look at that. It might not be the biggest cock but you really can shoot a load buddy.” joe crouched down and was eye level with the large splot of cum on the mirror. “i guess we better clean up”

To cam’s shock, with that joe leaned into the mirror and started licking up the mess. The taste his cam immediately – he had never tasted anything like it. it was salty and bitter, a bit like sweat and the texture was unexplainable. Cam’s body was lapping it all up like a dog, not missing a spot on the mirror. Every few licks, joe licked the inside of his mouth and swallowed, grinning at cam’s pleas to stop. Eventually the whole thing was clean. “tasty too – how do you like the taste of cum boy?”

“joe..please you aren’t gonna get away with this – len will know it’s not me”

“holy shit you reminded me – len. lots of memories in here about him. ooh naughty naughty boy. he wants to fuck you nearly as much as me.” joe replied, licking some of the remaining cum on his chin. 

“he’s in the living room right now right? Why don’t we test out your theory”

Chapter two

Len was cooking in the living room when joe entered. Joe had spent the last hour playing around a bit more with cam’s body, finding all his erogynous areas. He discovered cam’s sensitive left ear and right nipple combo that’d make him come in about 30 seconds. Also, despite liking cam’s hair, he decided to shave his bubble butt smooth and trim down the hair on his abs. from what he knew about len’s dating history that would definetly be his preference.

From there, he donned a red pair of underwear from cam’s drawer, the most revealing pair he could find, with some white socks and sliders and made his way to the living room/kitchen.

“hey dude, what’s up” joe said, sounding worringly like cam.

“not too m-woah” len began until he looked up. len oggled cam enough when he had just his shirt off, but with cam wearing just this red speedo-esque underwear, len was eye fucking him like never before. Usually cam would never wear this kind of thing around the house, which cam was sure len would notice as strange.

“len’s gonna know something’s up you fuck, this is so weird” cam said to joe

“oh really? Let’s see” joe thought back, tauntingly

Joe stood next to len, pretending to look for something in the cupboard below him but really just bending over to give len a good look at cam’s ass.

“uhh what you looking for bro? And isn’t that the weird necklace joe left you” len said, gesturing at the totem on cam’s neck. Joe smirked.

“ahh just a can of tomatoes man, but i think i ran out” joe said “oh and this?” joe took the totem in cam’s hand. “i thought it looked cool actually what do you think?”

As joe said this he moved over to len, allowing him to hold the totem. He stood uncomfortably close to len, pushing forward his body so that it was almost touching him. 

“ah uhh yeah it’s nice man” len said nervously, clearly distracted. “you look really good by the way..i think i have an extra can if you need one..” len grabbed the can from his cupboard and held it out.

“thanks dude – you’re such a good flatmate you know man”

“it’s no problem dude”

“this can’t be working on him” cam thought

“no seriously man” joe continued “i feel like i can never find a way to thank you for how great it is to live with you”

“thanks…it’s really not a problem dude..”

Joe continued on “no len, seriously. I love living here with you..being around you. ” he started to move his body in closer to len. len was stunned, not believing this could be happening “the way you smell” the gay between len and cam/joe’s was finally closed as joe leaned into len’s face kissing him tongue first. At first len didn’t respond, but quickly he took the opportunity to reciprocate twirling his tongue back into cam’s mouth. As he did so he placed his hand on cam’s ass, so quickly it made a spanking noise and grabbed a fistful. 

Joe was moaning already and cam’s cock was visibly hard through the underwear.

“len!” cam screamed in his mind “how can you think this is me?!”

Joe’s laugh reverberated through cam’s mind “right now he doesn’t give a fuck about anything except getting his tongue on every inch of your body bud.” joe commented “and he’s certainly not going to be thinking much once you’re rolling his balls around your tongue”

The kiss continued for a while and was pretty sloppy on len’s end. len himself was slightly overweight was just wearing a t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. Joe was putting his hands all over len’s body, feeling the curves of his belly and the jiggle of his man boobs. He let his hand travel down to the sweatpants, where a tent had formed around len’s crotch.

Suddenly, joe broke the kiss and descended to his knees pulling down len’s sweats as he did so.

“holy shit ma-” len started but just as soon was shocked again as cam started desperately licking his balls and moaning “fuuuuuuck that feels so good” len moaned. Meanwhile the taste hit cam like a train. Completely different to the cum taste, this was much more salty and saline. Len wasn’t the best at washing regularly and he clearly hadn’t taken a shower for atleast a few days. He was tasting the entire week of sweat, which had been particularly hot in the summer weather.

Cam’s mouth popped off the balls “yeah roomie? I’m glad – how’s this?”

And with that joe forced the cock down cam’s throat. Joe held himself there for a while and tensed his throat while swirling his tongue around the shaft to stimulate len. len could barely get a word out.

“uhhh shit man i can’t believe this is happening”

Slowly, joe began to bob cam’s head back and forth while sucking. Len’s eyes started rolling back in his head. The next 4 minutes the only sounds in the kitchen where len’s moans, the slapping of his balls against cam’s chin and the occasional choking sound of his throat. 

All the while, cam was spiralling in his own mind. The taste and feeling of his flatmate’s cock was an unavoidable wall, closing in on him. joe was clearly enjoying it as cam’s mouth continued to salivate, clearly anticipating the explosion that was soon to come.

After 6 minutes, len’s cock began to pulse around cam’s throat indicating that he was gonna come.

“roomie…cam…i’m gonna c-cum” len began

Joe started licking more viciously and moving his head faster. Finally, len grabbed cam’s head and forced his whole cock down his throat so that cam was nose first in len’s prominent bush, his even nose being pushed against his pubes. A flood of cum entered cam’s throat , pumping out of len cock like a river. For 20 seconds joe swallowed pump after pump of cum, the only sound in the kitchen being the periodic gulps of cam’s throat.

Thinking he was finished, len released cam’s head but misjudged and once the cock popped out of cam’s mouth a final squirt splashed onto his face.

“oh shit sorry man” len said apologetically 

“it’s cool” joe replied, wiping it onto his hand and ,licking it off. 

“jesus fucking christ” len said, clearly beyond aroused. “where the fuck did this come from man?”

“i just wanted to show you how good a roomie you are man” joe smiled.

Looking down at cam, len noticed the tent that had formed in his flatmates undies – a small dark spot where the tip is formed by his pre-cum

“you’re so fucking hot dude” len gauked.

“oh yeah” joe smirked “why don’t you show me how hot you find me?”

Chapter 3

“hey cam, still think your flatmate is worried?” joe chuckled in their mind.

As he spoke, joe/cam and len were on len’s bed, with cam sitting ontop of len’s face so that his hard cock was resting on his chin. Len was hard at work, eating cam’s ass like it was his last meal on earth and joe was playing with cam’s nipples

“this – -is so .ff..ffucked u..p” cam tried to reply

“don’t be shy with me cammy, we are feeling the exact same thing and i have access to all your memories and thoughts” joe replied “len’s rimjob here is one of the best sexual experiences of your life”

Cam hated to admit it to himself, but it was true. The feeling of the tongue gliding over his hole and then diving in. len’s moans. Joe’s nipple play. He was being played like a fiddle. 

Every now again, len would come up for air saying

“you taste so fucking good baby”

“you have no idea how much i wanted this”

“this is the best day of my life”

Joe rocked cam’s hips back and forth, watching himself in the mirror and grinning. “best day of mine too” he thought. He realised he was dangerously close to cumming, so he moved his knees up to escape the wagging tongue under him. len however grabbed the thighs either side of his head and forcefully tugged him back done 

“uhhhhhh” cam’s voice raised an octave, into a tone he had never heard from himself. 

“he’s really enjoying himself cammy!” joe laughed.

In cam’s voice, joe forced out “uhh ro-omie-fuck th-at’s so good uhh – i’m gonna cum soon wait”

Len momentarily stopped “that’s the idea baby” and then got back to work

“cocyk fucker” joe thought. “no len-don’t you- uhh – wanna fuck me” 

Len’s quick tongue movements abruptly stopped as he processed what he had just heard. He popped his head up.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say that since the day we met” he replied

As len released his grip, he turned cam around and kissed up his body, licking his balls and cock first, then his abs, sucking right and left tits, kissing his throat, licking the inside of his ear – which got a particularly strong reaction – and then finally meeting cam’s lips.

As he did so, he moved cam’s legs up over his shoulders and positioned his cock at the entrance. Len was quite a bit bigger than cam, sporting a healthy 8 inches. He had even laughed when joe revealed cam’s cock 

“i guess you can’t have Everything” He smirked.

As he cock moved towards cam’s hole, he continued to kiss him. 

“no non no no ” cam thought as he felt the pressure building up in his hole as the cock probed it.

“yes yes yes” joe laughed back.

Just as he said so the cock head slowly made it’s way inside and len gradually leaned further and further in until his entire cock was inside cam.

He stopped the kiss and manauvered to cam’s ear where he whispered 

“it feel so good inside you roomie”

And with that he slowly started fucking into him. joe reciprocated by rolling his hips in sync with len’s thrusts, as len kissed around cam’s ear and throat eliciting moans from cam. meanwhile in his mind, cam couldn’t help but succumb to the pleasure

“no no fuck yes yes fuck roomie fuck” cam thought 

“that didn’t take long” joe laughed “knew you’d like your first cock”

It was clear that aswell as taking over his body, the pleasure and kinks of joe had also been partially spread to cam as joe was absolutely right. As his roommate fucked him, the sounds he started to make could be mistaken for a girl. 

Eventually len grabbed cam’s thighs and started fucking into him harder and faster -repeatedly hitting his g-spot once he found. Cam’s eyes began to roll to the back of his head.

“fuckkk roomie you look so hot like that” len said, staring down at him and smirking “when the fuck did you become such a cock slut”

“2 hours ago” joe thought

“get on all fours” len ordered, clearly becoming more comfortable. He removed his cock and joe obeyed, presenting his ass to len.

“god your ass is insane” len said and then gave the right cheek a hard smack. “i mean look at that fucking jiggle” he said, giving the left another. He spit on his cock and sunk it back into the hole with a satisfied moan. 

From there he took both cheeks for stability and started pounding into cam. cam tried to hold himself up, but eventually his arms gave way and his face fell into the pillow infront of him.

“yeah baby – look at you little pillow princess” len said “say my name”

Joe didn’t reply, clearly in a stupor – but was brough back to reality with a hard spank from len “say it!” 

Joe tried to say his name but his voice was muffled by the pillow “lmpph”. len laughed and grabbed cam’s haired, pulling his face up “fucking say it”

“len” joe shouted

“again” len demanded

“len len” and with each thrust he repeated the mantra. Within his mind, cam couldn’t resist following aswell, in sync thinking “len len len”

Eventually len flipped cam onto his right side and raised his left leg up to get a good angle. From there he was fucking cam non-stop. 

After 15 minutes, cam was on his back again and len was forcing his tongue down his throat as his sweaty body continued to pound into him. at this point the sounds coming of cam’s  mouth were belaboured moans, exhausted at the fucking his flatmate had put him through. He had no idea he had this energy in him.

They were both close to coming, and len’s moans began to be slightly more high pitched as his pace quickened. He could feel cam’s hole tensing, indicating the coming orgasm so he doubled down and started fucking like a jack hammer until his dick finally began to release in cam’s hole

“yes..yes…yes” len exclaimed as he buried his dick as deep as possible.

As cam felt the flood of cum entering him, he instantly came himself – shotting his load all over len and his own face. They stayed like that for a while, with len inside him panting and cam’s legs wrapped around his torso.

Len broke the silence. “you’re incredible” he said “why didn’t you suck my cock 4 years ago, i could have been tapping that ass this whole time”

Joe laughed and replied “i don’t know man, i guess i was scared. Maybe we can make up for it”

“you fucking bet we will” he grinned “you’re gonna need to swallow two loads a day to catch up” he laughed.

“alright sir” joe replied, earnestly.

“fuck me…” len replied, pulling out of cam and positining him on his chest “all the times i’ve checked out your ass, oggled your tits, wanked over your facebook photos ..and you’re actually a slut…i’m using you forever” 

Joe leaned in for a passionante kiss “whatever you want sir”

Joe gestured back to cameron in his mind 

“yeah buddy he’s your new god” he laughed.

Chapter 4 – tbc

God I hope Krell doesn’t cause drama when he finds me and Grayson in handcuffs.

Noticing that my expression had changed to worry, Grayson said, “Hey, aren’t you happy? We’re gonna get out of here.”

“Of course I am, Grayson. I was just thinking… he’s gonna find me here, naked…”

The doorbell rang again.

“Don’t worry about it. My son would never make you feel uncomfortable.”

Um, Grayson… how well exactly do you know your son?

Finally, after nobody answered the front door, we heard it open.

Then, surprisingly, a female voice called out, “Hello? Grayson? Nathaniel?”

“We’re in the bathroom, honey!” Grayson called over to her. 

“Your wife?” I said, my heart dropping to the bottom of my stomach. Grayson nodded.

I cringed. I’d not only made a move on her husband, I’d outright tricked him into fucking me! She was about the only person in the world I wanted to see even less than Krell. Not only was I about to see her, but she was about to walk in on me in the bathroom, where I stood naked, handcuffed to her husband. 

This is gonna suckkkkk.

She knocked on the door. I was so nervous. 

If I had a husband like Grayson and some trifling whore tried to steal him from me, I’d lock that bitch in a basement dungeon somewhere and throw away the key.

“Come in honey! We’ve been handcuffed!” Grayson said.

Mrs. Nash opened the door. She was pretty. She had long blonde hair and a kind face. 

“We’re OK, honey,” said Grayson. 

“What happened? Who did this to you?” Mrs. Nash asked. I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was really worried about Grayson. And she had every reason to be. I’d gotten her husband held up at gunpoint the day before. For all she knew, I’d lured Grayson to my apartment on purpose to get held up and forced to have sex again.

I know exactly what I’d be thinking if I were her – ‘This stupid whore wanted my husband’s hot dick again and tricked him into coming over.’

“Nothing happened to me, honey. Buddy paid Nathaniel a visit. He pulled a gun on us and handcuffed us to these pipes. We’ve just been waiting a couple hours now for someone to come free us.”

“Oh,” said Mrs. Nash. “And, Buddy? Did he have a gun?”

“Yes,” said Grayson. “But he didn’t point it at me. Just at Nathaniel. And before I got here… well… Buddy sexually assaulted him,” Grayson explained. I was embarrassed that he was sharing the details, but also kind of happy. Maybe Mrs. Nash would feel bad for me and forget how angry she was with me. 

“I’m fine,” I finally said. “Really. Only thing he hurt was my ego.” 

I’m sure it was awkward, but I wanted the subject to change. Mrs. Nash already knew enough details about my sex life. As it was, it was strange enough having her there in this small bathroom as I stood there naked. My dick was shriveled and my nipples were hard because the water in the tub had gone cold by this point.

“I’m surprised you came here yourself instead of sending Krell,” Grayson said, finally breaking the awkwardness.

“I’m glad I didn’t send Krell,” she said. “My gosh, Grayson, a crazed gunman was here and you’re saying I should have sent our 18 year old son?”

“He’s a man, Vanessa. Krell can take care of himself. Why didn’t you send him?”

“Krell said he wouldn’t be able to make it because they needed volunteers at the soup kitchen tonight,” Mrs. Nash replied. 

I had to suppress a laugh. Krell had lied to his mother. I knew that he was getting fucked by Craig, not volunteering at some soup kitchen. I figured Craig was probably fucking him over and over and over. Krell had a cute little twink ass, and Craig was a horny jock. 

“How much longer is this going to go on, Grayson? How long do I have to worry about the gunman hurting you or one of our kids? I can’t live like this.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to the kids. And he showed us tonight that his gun was unloaded. It was all just to play mind games with us.”

“It wasn’t just mind games, Grayson!” Mrs. Nash said loudly, almost yelling. “I’m calling the police, right now.”

“Mrs. Nash,” I said. “Please don’t do that. I know this is a terrible time for this, but I really want to apologize to you. It’s bad enough what’s happened to Grayson because of me. If you call the police, everyone will know. I have enough on my conscience. I can’t be responsible for ruining Grayson’s reputation too. Please,” I begged.

“I don’t believe this,” said Mrs. Nash. 

“He’s not going to come back,” I said. “He just wanted to prove something to me by degrading me. It’s over.”

“Nathaniel’s right, honey. Now how about getting us out of here? Do you see keys lying around anywhere for these handcuffs?” Grayson asked. 

“I’ll have to look around the apartment,” Mrs. Nash replied. 

As she left the room to look for the keys, I looked over guiltily at Grayson.

“Grayson, I am so, so, so sorry for all of this.”

“I know you are, Nathaniel.”

“But now… meeting her. I feel even worse. Grayson–” 

“Nathaniel. Tell her. Not me. OK?”

I paid someone to pull a gun on her husband and make him fuck me. I’m lucky she didn’t hold my head underwater.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Nash came back with the keys. First she uncuffed Grayson, and then he uncuffed me.

Finally when we were free, Grayson asked me if I could stay in the restroom for a minute and give him the chance to talk to Mrs. Nash in private. 

So as they left the room, I grabbed a big white bath sheet to dry off with. 

She’s his life partner, not me. She’s his soul mate, not me. I’m nothing to him.

They were probably only talking for about 10 minutes, but to me it felt like an hour. I was overcome with jealousy.

What makes her so fucking special anyway? She’s pretty, but she’s got thin old lady arms and wrinkles. Why would he want this aging wench? I doubt she lets Grayson fuck her as hard as he wants to. He’s a man. He’s raging with testosterone. He deserves someone who can fulfill his needs. I hope her fucking cancer comes back and kills the bitch. Then I can step in to comfort the poor grieving widower.

I know my thoughts were cruel, but love makes people think and do crazy things. Sometimes humans think nasty thoughts that we don’t really mean; I’d like to think I’m a better person now than I was then, but the truth is that, deep down, every single one of us has the capacity for hatred.

After a while, Grayson came back into the room.

“I told my wife that you’re going to stay the night with us and come to church with us tomorrow. She said it was OK with her, but she wants you to drive with her.”

“Grayson, I don’t want to be alone with her!” I whined. 

“Don’t you think you owe it to her? You told me you wanted to change. Part of change is showing contrition.”

I nodded.

“Thattaboy. I’m gonna go now and my wife is gonna wait downstairs in the car for you. Why don’t you pack a bag, and don’t forget church clothes.”

I was so nervous about riding with Mrs. Nash that I didn’t pay much attention to what I packed.

I wonder what she’ll say when he’s not around. She told him she forgave me. But when it’s just me and her…

I was thinking of Karen Hill in “Goodfellas.” When she told the “whore in 2R” to “get your own Goddamn man.” I laughed, as I couldn’t picture Grayson’s timid, plain wife reacting like that. But a dick as good as Grayson’s can make bitches do some crazy motherfucking things.

I walked down to the lobby of my building and looked outside. I could see Mrs. Nash pulled up in front of the building in her car. 

OK. Here we go…

I opened the door to her car. “Thanks for the ride,” I said as I sat down and buckled my seat belt. 

“You’re welcome, hon,” she replied. 

The ride with Mrs. Nash wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. She was very kind. She asked me questions about myself, my family, and my work. The fact that she was nice made me feel so guilty about what I’d done, and about the cruel thoughts I’d had about her. 

Finally, I had to unburden myself.

“Mrs. Nash… I am so sorry about what I did. I really wish I hadn’t done it. It was seriously selfish and reckless and I can’t believe I stooped that low. I just wish I could take it back.”

“You can’t take it back, Nathaniel, but you can try to change.”

“I want to change. When I look at what I did, I never knew I could do something that dark and twisted.” 

“Nathaniel, it’s never too late to change. You’re coming to church with us tomorrow. Maybe this is your second chance. Maybe you’ll feel something at church, and you’ll let Jesus in. There is no higher changing power than the power of Jesus.”

It had been several years since I’d thought about Jesus, probably not since I was a little kid. But looking at Grayson and his wife, they clearly had something that I lacked. I couldn’t believe I was thinking it, but maybe they were right. Maybe religion would fill the hole that I’d been trying to fill with compulsively seducing straight men. Maybe I just needed to have more of an open mind about it. 

“Do you really think so?” I asked. “Maybe it’s too late for me. I’ve already done something so terrible. Maybe I’m irredeemable.”

“You’re not irredeemable, sweetie. And, Nathaniel? I forgive you for what you did.”

I was shocked. Grayson and his wife had both forgiven me for such a serious transgression. It was remarkable. I felt so indebted to both of them for showing me that kind of grace. I really wanted to prove to them that I was serious about changing. And I wanted to prove it to myself, too.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the Nash residence. I lived in a hip, high-middle-income East Bay suburb full of twentysomething tech workers. Grayson and family lived further out in a wealthy exurb that attracted families who wanted nothing to do with nightlife or any other riffraff that comes with city living.

I knew most of my friends and coworkers would mock Grayson’s house as a “McMansion” but I liked it. It was huge for a 4 bedroom house. It was 2 stories, plus he had a finished basement, big backyard with a garden and a pool, and a three car garage. He’d made quite a life for himself.

Grayson gave me the grand tour. He was proud of showing me the trees and bushes he’d planted, and bragged that he did all of his own landscaping.

They had a huge family portrait in their foyer, which had marble floors and a grand staircase. Of course I recognized Krell, but the whole family was attractive. The best-looking son was definitely Kabb, the second-oldest who was playing college football at UCLA on a scholarship. Grayson had a manly body with bulging biceps, juicy forearms, pecs, and cut abs, but Kabb’s body made his dad’s look small by comparison. Kabb was absolutely jacked. He was huge and imposing, just a big wall of solid muscle. It was hard for me not to drool. 

Obviously Krell has a thing for his dad, but I wonder if he jerks off thinking about his brothers too.

I didn’t realize just how hungry I was until Mrs. Nash served dinner. It was comfort food – meatloaf and mashed potatoes, far different from the food I was used to eating. But it was so good, and I gratefully scarfed it down. 

Finally, Grayson brought me to the room I’d be staying in. The room was a typical jock’s bedroom, with trophies and posters of sports stars. There was one shirtless poster of a football player named JJ Watt. I’d never heard of him, but he had exactly the same tall, solidly muscular build and blonde hair as Kabb. This bedroom was so much different from my childhood bedroom where I’d kept posters of Taylor Swift and Hannah Montana. This was the room that his eldest sons, Kuhn and Kabb, had shared when they were growing up.

Grayson and I said good night to each other and I changed into the pajamas that I’d packed in my night bag. Once the door was shut, I headed immediately for Kabb’s dresser, hoping he’d left behind some underwear or a jockstrap or something that I could put over my head as I jerked off thinking about Grayson.

But as I opened the top drawer to rifle through Kabb’s things, I saw my reflection in the full body mirror on the other side of the room.

What am I doing? I thought I was better than this.

I shut the drawer without disturbing Kabb’s things. 

If I’m serious about changing, the time to start is now. I can’t do this anymore.

For the first time since I was a little kid, I knelt down and said a prayer before bed. I prayed not to make Grayson love me, but just to open his heart. “And open mine, too,” I added. 

I dreamt about Buddy. I dreamt about him pinning me down, and mocking me, and dehumanizing me. And in the dream, I liked it. The rougher he was, the more turned on I got. In my dream, I wasn’t disgusted at all by him. His simian, blue collar, dangerous energy was intoxicating to me, and I begged him for his dick. Just as he was about to fuck me, I woke up. My first emotion was disappointment that I’d woken up before the good part of the dream. Then I was disappointed in myself for dreaming about Buddy, and for getting turned on by being degraded. 

I haven’t changed at all. I never will. Why try to be something I’m not instead of the sick queer that I am?

So I went back over to Kabb’s dresser. The digital clock on top of it said it was 10:00 PM. I was surprised it was still so early in the night. Then I opened up Kabb’s top dresser drawer and started leafing through it. I quickly found a pair of his boxers. I snatched them up as if I’d found buried treasure, took off my pants, and went back to bed.

I lied down, and covered my face with Kabb’s underwear. I breathed in, and even though the underwear were clean, I undoubtedly smelled the masculine pheromones that only a young, straight jock can emit. Kabb must have been 22 or something, so he was at the height of his masculine allure. My dick got so hard as I inhaled all of the manly scents that he’d left behind in his flannel boxers.

To my shame, I jerked off thinking not about Grayson, but about Buddy. I pictured Buddy’s hairy, dirty, sweaty naked body. I imagined him with a curly dark bush and thick, cut cock. I pictured him fucking me. I imagined hearing him taunt me about how much I wanted him, and what a nice obedient little twink I was, and how much he loved my asshole. What I imagined was not sensual lovemaking — it was brutal fucking. As I fantasized about Buddy and took my whiffs of Kabb’s underwear, I jerked myself off furiously.

But before I could cum, the door opened!

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” It was Mrs. Nash. I took the boxers off of my face and covered my dick.

Unbelievably, I was being walked in on while masturbating for the second day in a row! The first time, it had been Craig. Now it was Grayson’s wife.

“I knocked, but you must not have heard me,” Mrs. Nash said. “I just — nevermind. Good night.”

Well, that had killed the mood. I knew she would tell Grayson about what she’d walked in on. How fucking humiliating. 

I wanted to finish jerking off, but I couldn’t get hard again. The adrenaline rush or maybe the humiliation from getting caught made it impossible to get turned on just from thoughts. 

I considered watching some porn on my iPhone, but then I remembered I was in a muscular straight jock’s bedroom. There had to be something else in there. Maybe I’d find a used cum rag, or some nude selfies – something I could use to finish myself off. 

I went through his closet. There were old yearbooks, sports cards he’d collected, board games, sports equipment and other normal items. So I kept digging. And then deep under a bunch of other junk, I saw a shoebox. Inside the shoebox, there was a fleshlight! 

Well, well, well. I guess Kabb isn’t as squeaky clean as his dad is.

I was incredibly turned on by the forbidden fruit of Kabb’s used fleshlight. I placed my dick inside, and as I started the fleshlight’s sucking, I got so turned on thinking about how my dick was in the exact spot Kabb’s dick had likely been so many times before. 

As the fleshlight simulated sucking my dick, I pictured Kabb thrusting in and out of the fleshlight, his big manly butt muscles flexing as he did. Then I pictured Kabb’s balls, low hanging in my mind, contracting as Kabb came inside of the fleshlight, filling it with his man juice.

And that caused me to erupt. I came and came and came as the fleshlight kept dutifully sucking me off. 

When I was done, I used Kabb’s underwear to clean myself off, and I threw them into my overnight bag to keep as a souvenir. Then I put my pajama pants back on, and brought the fleshlight to the bathroom to rinse it out and wash with soap. 

I put everything in the closet back where it was when I’d found it. Then I went to bed and fell back asleep.

I woke up at 6:30 AM. Grayson and his wife were still asleep, so I remembered my mission to search Krell’s bedroom for Grayson’s sperm and to recover it if possible. 

I knew which bedroom was Krell’s because there was only one with Ariana Grande posters. I didn’t have to do much searching, because he had a mini fridge next to his desk. If he had Grayson’s sperm, I figured it would be in the mini fridge.

I was right.

Sitting in Krell’s fridge was the mug filled with Grayson’s sperm. I couldn’t believe it. He really had bought it from Buddy! I took the sperm with me and walked back over to Kabb’s bedroom. Kabb also had a mini fridge, so I stashed the sperm inside, figuring I could grab it later and put it in my overnight bag when it was time to go home. 

Just after I’d put it in the fridge, I heard a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said.

Grayson opened the door. “Good morning, Nathaniel,” he said cheerily. I knew Mrs. Nash had likely told him about catching me masturbating, but, much to my relief, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Good morning Grayson! How did you sleep?”

“Very well, thank you. How about you?”

“Great. Very comfortable mattress, thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. How are you feeling about what happened yesterday?”

“You mean with Buddy? It’s fine, Grayson. I’m just happy to be alive.”

“Have you given any more thought to what I said about going to the police?”

“Yes, and I still don’t think we should. I think Buddy proved whatever point he was trying to prove yesterday, and he’s not going to bother us again.”

“OK,” Grayson said, uneasily. “But if he bothers you again, we’re going to the police. I can’t spend every day worrying that he’s going to attack you the second you’re out of my sight.”

“Agreed. If he pops back up, we’ll go to the police,” I said.

“Great. Anyway, why don’t you take a shower and get dressed and ready for church? My son Krell is on his way home and he’ll probably want to take a shower too.”

“Too late, Daddy!” Krell announced, coming up behind Grayson. 

“Krell! I’d like you to meet…”

“Nathaniel, isn’t it? I think we follow each other on Instagram. But it’s nice to finally meet you in person!” Krell extended his hand to mine, and we shook. “My dad tells me you’re a very gifted graphic designer.”

“Actually, Krell is a great graphic designer as well, Nathaniel. He’s the only kid who will probably take after the old man and go into the tech industry.”

“I guess we have a lot in common, Krell,” I said, barely concealing the irony. 

“Well I’m going to leave you two to get to know each other. I am going to go get dressed and ready for church. Don’t take too long getting ready, you two.”

After Grayson exited the room, Krell immediately dropped the sweet act. 

“Where is it, Nathaniel?” he asked menacingly.

“Where’s what?” I responded, playing dumb.

“You know damn well what. I was just in my bedroom and you stole something from me.”

I walked over to the mini fridge and removed Grayson’s sperm. “You mean this? I know you wanted to dump it out but I figured I’d take care of it for you since you weren’t home. But now that you are, why don’t we walk over to the bathroom and dump it out together?”

He looked up at me for a minute, then down at the mug, and again back up at me.

“Don’t you dare,” he said calmly.

“Fine, then I’ll go dump it out myself. Excuse me.”

“No, I can’t let you do that, Nathaniel. Give me the mug.”

“Krell. What’s in this mug doesn’t belong to you,” I said.

“It doesn’t belong to you, Nathaniel.”

“How did you even get it?” 

“None of your business. Now hand it over.”

“What do you need it for, Krell?”

“Never fucking mind. Just fucking give it to me!”

“You know I can’t do that, Krell. It’s your dad’s sperm. I can’t let you have it. It would be wrong.” I put the mug of sperm back in the mini fridge carefully. “Now let’s just discuss this calmly.”

“Fuck you,” he said.

He tried to move past me to get to the fridge so he could take back Grayson’s sperm, but I blocked his path. So he actually started slapping me.

“Krell, what the fuck? Stop it, you fucking freak.”

“You give me that sperm you fucking bitch!” He looked like he was possessed by a demon as he tried to move me aside to get to the fridge. Then he bit me.

“Ow!” Finally I got out of his way and Krell shoved me aside, now blocking me from the fridge. He opened the door.

“Krell, wait! Don’t do this. Once you do this, you can’t take it back. Seriously, stop.” I brought my voice down. “Let’s just discuss this rationally, like adults.”

With his back to the fridge, Krell folded his arms and glared at me.

“What gives you the right to smuggle my dad’s sperm, you fucking freak?” Krell asked me.

“You’re absolutely right, Krell. It was stupid, and I shouldn’t have done it. Now let’s just go flush it down the toilet and we’ll forget this ever happened.”

“No, Nathaniel, I want you to say out loud what you were planning to do with it so you’re forced to admit the exact kind of sexual predator you are.”

“I was gonna drink it, Krell. OK? Are you happy? I was gonna drink your dad’s cum.”

“And that excites you sexually, right, Nathaniel? You’re so sick and twisted that literally drinking the juices of another man gets you all hot and bothered,” Krell said, taking pleasure in mocking me.

“Yes,” I said. 

“I bet it does, Nathaniel. I bet it does. Sorry, but you’re not going to get your way this time.” Krell took the mug out of the fridge. He brought it up to his lips and downed the contents in one gulp. Then he licked his lips and grinned at me. As he grinned, I could see some of the goo still in his mouth.

“My god,” I said. “You’re fucking crazy. Do you realize you just drank your dad’s cum?”

“Jealous?” he asked, grinning at me.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked.

“Don’t you fucking preach at me, Nathaniel. You’re just mad that I got to it before you could.”

“Why do you act like we’re in a competition? I was happy when I thought you were gonna be Craig’s boyfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” Krell corrected. “I’m his girlfriend. And don’t you forget it.”

“But if you’re Craig’s girlfriend, why did you just drink another man’s sperm? Isn’t that cheating?”

“No, getting fucked by him would be cheating, and I’m not trying to do that. I’m just trying to make sure that you don’t get what you’re after.”

“And why, Krell? If you have what you want, why is it so important to you that I can’t have what I want? Why can’t you enjoy your own success? Why do you also have to sabotage me?”

Krell let out a huge laugh at that.

“Get over yourself, princess. Do you really think I spend that much time thinking about you, Nathaniel? I’m going to tell you something that someone should have told you a long time ago: not everything is about you, honey.”

“Then why did you steal your dad’s sperm from me?”

“Listen to how entitled you sound. I didn’t steal it from anyone. Buddy stole it, you told me, and then I called Buddy to buy the sperm from him at a fair price.”

“You paid money to buy your own dad’s sperm just to spite me? Can’t you hear how insane that sounds?” I couldn’t believe how much Krell was gaslighting me over this. 

“I didn’t do it to spite you, Nathaniel. I did it because I wanted it. And I just enjoyed it. And you didn’t.” Krell grinned.

“You are fucking crazy,” I said. “Crazy.”

“Get a new word already.”

“You know what? You’re sick. Like mentally ill. You need help.” I couldn’t believe the depths Krell had sunk to. I didn’t know if it was all just to get one over on me, or because he was really that deeply infatuated with his own father. Or both. 

Krell licked his lips and winked at me. What can I do? It’s not like I can tell Grayson what he did. I just have to steer clear of him from now on. 

I walked out of Kabb’s room and down the hall, not really knowing where I was going. That was some fucked up shit right there. That dude literally just drank his dad’s cum. What the fuck?

Going to church with Grayson’s family wasn’t actually that bad. I actually got to see Grayson teach a Sunday School lesson. He was so passionate about it. I could tell this wasn’t just a social activity for him. He really was a true believer. And the way the gospel sounded coming out of his mouth wasn’t half bad. When I looked at his face and I saw him preach, I actually wanted to believe for the first time in a long time. The way he was so sure about things was so… sexy. 

After we got back to the Nash residence, Krell went out of his way to make me uncomfortable, always making sure to get extra close to Grayson, always in my eyeline. He was obsessed with being petty. At one point he was sitting on Grayson’s lap, his arms wrapped around Grayson’s shoulders, and he deliberately made eye contact with me, flashing me this evil grin as he wrapped his arms around Grayson’s neck. I remembered the first time I’d seen Krell, how I thought his face looked sweet. Now I understood why. He had the perfect Daddy’s sweet little angel face. It could fool you if you weren’t wise to what lies beneath. But now I knew that when Daddy wasn’t looking, the real Krell came out. When Daddy wasn’t watching, Krell was swallowing Daddy’s cum.

I started going to church with the Nashes every Sunday, and before I knew it, I was being invited to be baptized as a member of their congregation. 

I know it might seem like I was just faking the Christianity thing as a way to spend time with Grayson, but I actually liked it. The more I learned about it, the happier I felt, the more fulfilled I was, the more meaning my life had. 

Things were good. It all got to be normal. It got to where I could almost, almost accept that Grayson would never be my lover. I got to spend a lot of time with him, and maybe that was enough.

More and more, the pressure was coming down on me to get baptized. But I didn’t know if I could do it. A part of this religion was that same sex couples weren’t seen as blessed by the Lord. Our unions were something wayward, something not part of His plan. 

If I decided to get baptized, I would be committing to a life of celibacy. You already chose that anyway, idiot. Remember, you said you’d never let anyone else fuck you but Grayson. And Grayson doesn’t wanna fuck you.

It seemed like such a waste. Here I was, physically in my prime. I had money, looks, talent, charm, everything. And it looked like I was going to spend the rest of my life alone. 

What else was I gonna do? Give up Grayson? 

So I made the decision to get baptized. That also meant the intentional decision to never ever get fucked again for the rest of my life, fully intending to keep my end of the bargain, fully believing that I would never again experience the heavenly feeling of a man’s penis pushing up against my anus right where God intended. 

Worse than that, I couldn’t even masturbate. Before my baptism, the pastor called me into his office to make clear to me that I wasn’t ever to masturbate, as it would make me unclean in the eyes of the Lord. He also wanted to hear about my past sins.

“Past sins?” I repeated.

“Yes. Any grave sins in your past that you need to atone for now?” Pastor Snyder asked.

I was sitting across the desk from him. I could lie and tell him no, but what good would that do me? You can’t lie to God, and for whatever reason, God wanted me to confess my biggest sin to this man.

I just wasn’t sure whether or not Pastor Snyder was prepared to hear it.

“I… had covetous thoughts. And I took action on those covetous thoughts,” I said.

“Everybody covets at one point or another,” Pastor Snyder said, wanting to make me feel comfortable.

“Yes, well… my thoughts were about wanting someone I couldn’t have. Someone who was married.”

“Oh? One of your friend’s wives?” asked Pastor Snyder.

“Not exactly,” I replied. “It was… a married man. Actually, you know him. It was… Well, it was Grayson Nash.”

“You had covetous thoughts about Brother Nash?”

“Well, no. Not just thoughts. It gets worse. I paid a hobo to pull a gun on Brother Nash and threaten to shoot Brother Nash if he refused to copulate with me. So you see – my sin wasn’t just coveting, but also violating Brother Nash’s agency, and forcing Brother Nash to break his marriage vows.”

“This was… something you… fantasized about?” Pastor Snyder asked.

“No. It’s something that happened. Brother Nash copulated me. Uh… to completion. But it was my sin, not his. Because I coveted him, and then I tricked him. Ask him if you don’t believe me. But anyway. That’s my biggest sin.”

I knew Pastor Snyder wouldn’t be able to talk about this with anybody except me and Grayson. He had a duty to keep the details that I’d confessed to him confidential. It actually did take a load off confessing that sin to him. He asked me a few more questions after that to make sure I was truly penitent, but once he was satisfied, he signed off on my becoming a member of the congregation.

I was wondering if Pastor Snyder would say anything about the conversation to Grayson. Sure enough, the morning of my baptism, Grayson mentioned it to me over breakfast.

“Pastor Snyder told me that you confessed to him your sin of… of coveting me, and of violating my agency in pursuit of your unrighteous desires.”

“Grayson, I just wanted to make sure I was starting from a clean slate. I hope you’re not angry with me.”

“Angry with you? Nathaniel, I’m proud of you. I was wondering whether or not you were going to confess that. That showed real humility.”

And he hugged me. It felt really nice. If nothing else, Grayson knew how much I’d changed, as he’d witnessed my transformation firsthand. 

Shows what kind of guy he is. Rather than be humiliated for himself, he’s happy for me because it means the remission of my sins. He’s really one in a million.

So I got baptised. I didn’t explicitly invite my family, but I kind of hoped they would show up anyway. It was an important change in my life. Maybe they’d show up… But, of course, they didn’t. 

After my baptism, I was more spiritually fulfilled, but in some ways, I was a wreck. I had no sexual outlet, having given up the right to masturbate or engage in premarital sex. And I couldn’t get married unless I wanted to marry a woman, and there was no way that could ever work.

I was stuck, right? Hopelessly stuck.

…But you didn’t actually think I’d end my story there, did you? 

You didn’t actually believe I’d end this with me never getting fucked again, did you? 

Well, spoiler alert… I get fucked again. And again. And again. These days, as often as I want it, which is pretty fucking often. 

But how did I manage that?

Because it wasn’t looking good for a while there.

It was looking pretty impossible, as a matter of fact. It was looking like I was gonna spend the rest of my life looking at Grayson and studying the Bible with Grayson and working with Grayson and talking to Grayson but not getting any of Grayson’s awesome dick. 

But I found a way, I promise. 

Just know, if you thought the story up to this point was fucked up, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Because the fucking loophole I had to find to start taking hot dick in my tight ass again makes everything we’ve covered up to this point look amateur.

So I am going to skip forward two years to get you to the next juicy part.

I hadn’t been fucked in two years. The last fuck I had was the one I’d received from Grayson. Go back to chapter one of this story if you want to read about that.

Believe it or not, I wasn’t that depressed about it.

My life was pretty great. I had an awesome job, I’d become an unofficial member of the Nash family, and I was spiritually fulfilled by religion in a way I never had been before.

Let me tell you the weird fucking part though.

Craig asked Grayson to give his girlfriend “Cindy” a job, and Grayson did – not realizing that “Cindy” was actually his son Krell. 

So Krell started coming in to work in drag every day, in these ridiculous, over-the-top, feminist power suits that would put Joan Collins to shame. Krell committed himself to the character of Cindy. He gave her an entire personality, and she became the most talented graphic design artist in the entire company. Cindy and Craig were quite the power couple. And I don’t even think that most people in the company even knew that Cindy was really a man in drag. And nobody knew that it was really Krell, except for me and Craig.

So now we had an office situation where Grayson was unknowingly employing his son in drag as his Graphic Design Department head. Grayson also didn’t know that his son had been dressing up like a girl to get fucked by Craig for 2 years. 

Unfortunately, this also meant that Krell’s private issues with me now became Cindy’s workplace issues with me.

Cindy openly became my office rival, trying to sabotage every project I was involved in. She constantly did things throughout the day to undermine every single decision I made. It was hell. I didn’t know why Krell couldn’t just be happy with Craig and leave me alone. Why did he also need me to be miserable to feel good about himself? 

“Oh, honey, I hate it for you,” said Cindy one day. 

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“That new haircut. Hope you didn’t actually pay for that.”

“I think it looks good, Cindy. When I want your  opinion, I’ll ask for it.” 

She was constantly doing things like that. Undercutting me for absolutely no reason. It was so unnecessary. She had Craig. I had nobody. What more did she want from me? Why did she constantly need to get one over on me? 

I think Grayson knew about the rivalry between Cindy and me, but I didn’t dare say anything to him about it. He’d been so good to me over the years, kind of like a second father, and I couldn’t drag him into some petty personnel conflict. 

Because I spent so much time with the Nashes, both at church and at their house where I was always welcome, I eventually met all of Grayson’s kids… except Kabb, who left to serve as a missionary in Africa after his college graduation. I no longer had Kabb’s underwear, as I’d thrown them out after my baptism due to the fact that they tempted me to masturbate too much. 

And then one day, I was walking to the bathroom of the Nash residence, and as I turned the corner to enter, I walked straight into Kabb, my head hitting his left pectoral muscle. I looked him up and down for a minute, absolutely transfixed on more solid muscle than I’d ever seen on one man. He was wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist, as he’d just gotten out of the shower. 

“Oh my. P-Pardon me,” I stuttered. 

“It’s all right,” he replied in his deep baritone, the corner of his mouth twisting into a sly smile. I could have sworn his left pectoral bounced just a little, but I wasn’t sure whether he did it on purpose. There was something about Kabb. He had so much fucking swagger and confidence, but in a different way than how Grayson was confident. It was like Kabb knew how sexy he was, and derived power from making people want him who could never have him. 

Not that I wanted Kabb – I was still in love with Grayson. But Kabb was undeniably a sexy hunk of a man. 

“I’m Nathaniel,” I said, finally formally introducing myself even though I’d been a close family friend for two years.

“I know,” he answered, flashing me his pearly whites. “I gotta go get dressed. You can come if you want to.”

Is he seriously offering me the chance to watch him get dressed? Play it cool, Nathaniel… I’m reading too much into this. He’s a football player. He’s used to being naked around other guys. He’s just saying I can follow him to his room so we can keep talking and he’ll get dressed while we talk. Totally casual and normal for two heterosexual Christian men.

“Uhh, sure,” I said, not wanting to sound too eager. “Sounds good,” I added, not wanting to sound like I was trying not to sound too eager. 

Just be cool. And keep looking him in the eyes. Nowhere else.

So I followed him to his bedroom. He didn’t even bother closing the door; he dropped the towel as soon as we entered his bedroom.

I tried to act natural. I didn’t give into the temptation to stare at his cock. 

“So I heard you just spent a few years in Africa,” I said awkwardly. “What was that like?”

“It was great,” he said. He was just standing there. He wasn’t getting dressed. His dick was just out, freely flopping around. I could look if I wanted to. “Are you thinking of going on a missionary trip?”

I don’t want to look. I’m a family friend. I’m not a pervert. I’m not turned on by him.

“Yes!” I lied.

“Cool. You should go.” He was still just standing there, not bothering to get dressed. It was excruciating having to make eye contact when I wanted so badly to look down. 

“Maybe I will!” I lied. “So what are you planning on doing now that you’re back?”

“Get a job,” he answered. This conversation was so awkward.

Maybe he wants me to look. Maybe he gets off on it. He wouldn’t just be standing there advertising to me if he didn’t want me to look. I wonder if his dad told him I used to be gay.

“Oh. Right. What’s your line of work?” I asked.

“Don’t matter to me. Whatever pays the bills, I reckon.”

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t resist one more second. I looked down at his dick. It looked remarkably similar to Grayson’s! It was about the same size and color as Grayson’s, only his didn’t have the same prominent vein that Grayson’s dick had. Kabb’s dick was slightly curved to the left. I hoped I could just glance real quick and then glance back up, and that he wouldn’t notice, but my eyes lingered for at least 5 seconds. 

I looked back up. He was looking right at me. He’d definitely noticed me checking him out. 

“Well, I wish you luck,” I said. “It was great to finally meet you.”

“Hang on,” he commanded. Now he was finally putting on his underwear. I couldn’t help but glance at his dick again – but this time I just glanced, I didn’t stare – as he pulled his boxers up and tucked his dick and balls into place. “I want to show you something.”

I already saw it!!!!

He snapped the waistband of his underwear as he walked over in my direction. “When I was in high school I used to make YouTube videos with my webcam.”

He pointed out a webcam on his desk that faced the bed. 

“What kind of videos did you make?” I asked.

He began putting on his shirt. He was buttoning it up as he spoke.

“Reaction videos to college football and NFL games. I had a decent following, but I stopped when I got to college. Didn’t have time for it.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe you’ll get back into it now that you’re graduated and back from Africa.”

“Maybe,” he said, now putting on his shorts. I wondered why he was telling me all this. 

“Is… is that what you wanted to show me?” I asked. 

“That, and you see this motion detector on my desk?” he asked, pointing to another machine.

“Oh, right. I didn’t know that’s what it was. I work in technology, but I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“I hooked it up to the webcam,” Kabb said. “I didn’t want my mother rearranging my room while I was at college. She’s kind of a snoop.”

“That’s understandable,” I said, now becoming uncomfortable. 

“So whenever it detected motion in my room,” he explained, “the webcam would turn on and I could watch my bedroom from college.”

Fuck. He saw me. He saw me putting his boxers on my face and jerking off while smelling them. He saw me using his fleshlight and cumming inside of it. He saw me. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Anyway,” he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Isn’t that neat?”

“Very neat,” I said, my voice full of fear. 

“Yeah,” he said, making eye contact with me, and giving me a knowing smile. “Good to meet you.”

“You too, Kabb.” And I walked out of his room. 

He let me off easy. He didn’t confront me about stealing his underwear or using his fleshlight. But he wanted me to know that he knew. I wonder why.

That night at the dinner table was a bit awkward. Whenever I managed to make eye contact with Kabb, I could swear he’d start doing a little of that sly smile. And I think Krell picked up on that as well, because Krell kept sneaking me dirty looks (well, more than usual, I mean.)

Over the next few weeks, the Nashes planned what was surely to be the social event of the season for our church and other local congregations. They invited over five hundred guests and rented a banquet hall. I couldn’t believe the lengths they were going to in order to make sure that Kabb’s coming home party would be a fête nobody would ever forget.

Little did anyone know, it would be unforgettable, but not for the reasons the Nashes thought. Unbeknownst to any of us, at Kabb’s coming home party, the shit finally hit the fan in epic fashion. 

To Be Continued… 

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Thank you to CosmoPillz for editing and proofreading

Thanks to Bill Drake for his inspiration and 77Tsutsu for his art, which will be available at @boymercuryx.bsky.social‬.

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1: The Question

I was just an eighteen-year-old kid waiting to meet the new Governor. Not a real meeting, more like a Q&A session for us high schoolers, and I guess a PR thing to kick off the start of his term. It’s not cool to admit it, but I was kind of stoked. My first vote ever was for him–Marc Recchi. His campaign had felt like a breath of fresh air, a promise of something different.

Some of his staff milled around, giving us instructions. Everyone seemed to defer to one guy. “AJ, AJ,” I must have heard a dozen times, his weary Australian accent cutting through the chatter. I almost had to laugh at how many problems there could be with an event as seemingly simple as this.

Then Governor Recchi stepped out.

He walked right to the podium with the governor’s seal on it–but at the last second, he seemed to pivot. He stepped through us to pick up one of the few unoccupied chairs and brought it to the center of the circle, setting it there, back to us, a slight smile on his face.

“You mind?” he asked, already stripping out of his suit jacket, revealing a crisp white shirt on his sturdy shoulders. “It’s pretty hot up here under the lights.” He set the jacket over the chair back and rolled up his sleeves, snug on his forearms, his collar pressed just a little into the strong column of his neck.

I spotted that AJ guy shaking his head.

At thirty-two, Marc Recchi was the state’s youngest governor ever. He was also a bachelor–a detail the media often poked at, but Recchi always deftly redirected those inquiries, saying he was “here to talk about the people’s lives, not private lives.” That was crazy enough, but even crazier? He was a liberal who’d actually won in deep-red territory.

The moment he moved, you understood why.

He had this strong, no-bullshit masculine vibe. Not that toxic, fake shit. But like the best dad you could imagine–hard driving but patient. With a sense of humor. The kind whose approval you’d crave–which, looking back, was probably why I was so drawn to him. My own dad was absent, and I guess I was always looking for that kind of presence in my own life.

Maybe it’s easier to move through the world with that kind of presence when you look like that, I thought. He wasn’t tall, but was broadly built, like the college wrestler he’d been. “Go muscles, not show muscles,” I recalled a gym teacher saying. His smile wasn’t fake or constant; it flickered spontaneously, like it could catch you by surprise.

He settled into the chair, forearms resting over the back, and his face lit up. Suddenly, he wasn’t standing above us but at our level, surrounded by us kids. He said hello, introduced himself, making eye contact with everyone. And I mean everyone–like he was taking us all in, one at a time.

Then his gaze landed in the most unexpected place of all–on me. It was intense, direct, and for a second, the chatter of the room, the glare of the lights, even the nervous thump of my own heart, just faded out. Strangely, I was suddenly aware of the scent of old, polished wood.

“What’s your name?” His voice was deep and warm, like he was talking just to me, even with everyone watching.”

“Harris… uh, Keaton, sir.” My face burned, and I reflexively tried to smooth down my stubborn cowlick with my palm, to look less stupid. I wished I could somehow smooth down my extra pounds, the extra softness that left me feeling like a pale lump in contrast to his lean power.

He nodded and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Harris Keaton. Good to meet you. Tell me, Harris, what do you want to do when you grow up? Who do you want to be?”

The question floored me. My mind, which usually had a quick answer for everything, just went blank. All I could think was… him. The man right in front of me.

“You,” I blurted out. Just that one word.

There was a flash of shocked laughter through the room, and my face went hot. I could almost feel my cowlick rising right up, and I wanted to die.

But Recchi didn’t laugh at me.

Instead, a warm, genuine smile spread across his face, a blush running across his cheeks. He chuckled warmly, and at his gentle amusement, the staff and parents followed suit, their earlier shocked laughter transforming into something softer. He paused, letting the chuckles die down.

“A questionable goal, Harris,” he said, his voice low and quiet, drawing me in. “But certainly a flattering one.” He paused, his gaze lingering on me for a beat, rescuing me and then giving me another chance. “Perhaps you could elaborate?”

I swallowed, still mortified, but his calm–the second chance he gave–steadied me. “No, I… I want to be you, sir. Like… your drive. How you… care about people. About making things better.” By the end, I surprised even myself, saying things I had never articulated before. And even if I sounded like the world’s biggest suck-up, it was all true–if not the whole truth.

His smile deepened like he got exactly what I meant. He held my gaze for another second, this shared understanding passing between us. “Well, Harris Keaton,” he said, his voice dropping again, “that’s a powerful aspiration. Keep that fire. I have a feeling you’ll go far, son.”

Son. A southern affectation, and in Recchi’s case probably part of a strategy to seem more mature than his thirty-two years. But it worked on me, like he was speaking my most secret, true name.

He nodded, signaling the next question from someone else, but the exchange stuck with me.

Even later that night, telling my mom about it again and again–the Governor’s eyes, how he came to my rescue the way he did–it all just played over and over in my head.

Maybe it was dumb hero worship, but the way Marc Recchi looked at me, the way we talked together, made me feel so weirdly pumped. Like it was the beginning of something new and unexpected, like things I’d barely hoped for were suddenly, truly, possible.

I could see the power of second chances, and knew that whenever I had the opportunity of one I’d take it.

2: Six Years Later

Six years later, the same polished-wood smell hung in the air of the state building–a strong sense memory that anchored me in that day. But I was a different person. No longer a flustered high schooler, I was twenty-four, wearing my Navy lieutenant junior grade uniform. A few deployments and years of training had filled me out, given me muscle and a presence of my own.

It was a reception for outstanding young military personnel, framed as a way for Governor Recchi to connect with the state’s future leaders and highlight his administration’s commitment to public service–especially his initiatives for supporting low-income families and immigrant communities.

For us it felt like more than just a photo op; it was a genuine moment of recognition. I was in a line with other young hotshots, to shake hands with Governor Marc Recchi, now in his second term.

He had matured into it–he had more gravity, but still held a boyish charm in his face if his eyes had a slight crinkle in the corners, when he laughed or grinned, which he did often. Any stress he had seemed to be borne by his aide, AJ, hovering near his side, looking slightly more comfortable in his suit than he did six years earlier.

My heart reflexively did a nervous flutter as he neared me. I’d never forgotten him, or that day. That memory stuck with me, pushing me through the times I doubted myself. And now I was a man in a place of honor, about to shake hands with the guy who’d put me there.

When it was my turn, Governor Recchi’s eyes passed over me, same as the men at my sides. A polite, practiced glance, no flicker of recognition. What an idiot I had to be, hoping for the impossible–that he’d remember, when I was just one of no doubt thousands of faces he’d seen in his years in office, at one more unmemorable function.

As he began to move past me he stopped, and turned slightly. His voice dropped low, almost a whisper. “So, do you still want to be me?”

Holy shit. I felt the same heat as if the TV lights were on me. But this time I steadied myself faster, on my own, reminding myself I was a man. A junior officer. I had my own confidence. I met his gaze and let a slight smirk play on my lips.

“Governor,” I said, my voice dropping to match his. “I still have my ambitions. Regarding you.”

For a microsecond, the Governor looked caught flat-footed, if imperceptibly to anyone out of earshot. He recovered quickly. “I’d like to hear more about them.”

“Any time, Governor. I’m at your service.”

I held his eyes, putting it all out there–a challenge. An invitation.

His public smile didn’t waver, but I was sure there was a flicker of something in his eyes that told me he’d taken my meaning.

He made his way down the line, and it was done.

There was some mingling, pleasantries and handshakes–a regular press-the-flesh event, as they’re called. I’d been singled out to attend them in the past, in recognition of my bearing and, if I’m honest, my looks. I’d grown into the very picture of the image the Navy wanted to project.

As the event began to break up, Governor Recchi passed me again. His tone was breezy. “Good to see you again,” he said with his trademark warm smile. “I’m in town for the weekend and would like to catch up–if convenient for you.”

“That would be my pleasure, sir,” I replied, standing in my disciplined way.

“If it works for you,” he said.

As we shook hands again, his handlers trying to draw him away, he pressed something cool and stiff into my palm, which I took as discreetly as it was offered, completing the transfer.

As he walked away my heart beat hard in my chest, but only after the attention that hovered around him had passed did I risk a glance into my palm. A time and location. Written in pen. Signed, “Best, Marc.” Below his signature, in smaller handwriting, was added: “If convenient.”

A quiet fire in me was rekindled after six long years, a dizzying rush in my blood. Clutching the cool, stiff card in my palm, I knew this was it. My second chance.

3: A Private Meeting

It wasn’t his official residence, but a quiet, upscale hotel suite. A smart move, even I could see–out of the spotlight. I too was discreet, in a dark blue collared shirt that flattered my build, and tan chinos that I knew hugged my rear just right.

After being okayed to head up, I stood at the door, squaring my shoulders. My hair was cut short on the sides, Navy regulation, but I kept enough length on top to let that stubborn cowlick have its way–a subtle reminder that I wasn’t just another uniform. I licked my palm to tamp it down enough to pass muster.

I considered for a fleeting second walking in with full swagger–a Navy officer who knew he looked good. But that was beneath Marc Recchi, I imagined. This moment, this invitation, deserved something more.

He greeted me at the door, in person. No suit this time. Just a pale, open-collared shirt that showed off his throat and the solid width of his chest. He looked less like a politician and more like… a man. Thirty-eight and still in his goddamn prime.

“Harris.” His grin and voice were even more warm in that private setting. No handshake. Just a direct, long gaze that snagged me. “Glad you could come.”

“Governor,” I managed, with a slight nod, my voice a little rough. I fought the impulse to salute–made a little easier by his vibe, his relaxed clothes.

Nothing against a tailored suit, especially not the way they looked on him. But even without it, up close, you could see the years had given him subtle gravitas–in his very core. Like a good dad. Someone steady, wise, and strong.

He asked me to call him Marc and offered me a drink–I took a mineral water–and we sat in the plush armchairs in the living area of his suite. The air was cordial, light, yet humming with an undeniable undercurrent.

Marc began, his voice still low, but with a new, intriguing cadence, “Navy life. Tell me about it. Has it… changed your perspective on ambition? On what you want to be?” He leaned forward just slightly, his eyes never leaving mine.

I thought I’d be guarded–judicious in what I reveal, as I usually was. But once again Marc Recchi’s stare opened me up. I found myself telling him about the discipline, the travel, the unexpected ways I’d found strength.

Even when I thought I should stop–and I was sure I would–I talked about the different kinds of leadership I’d encountered, the complexities of navigating authority figures both good and bad. As I spoke, I saw Marc studying me, his blue eyes tracking the subtle shifts in my expression, occasionally dropping to the broad shoulders that now stretched my uniform, or the strong line of my jaw. He was taking it all in, absorbing me.

“It sounds like you’ve seen a lot, and learned even more,” Marc said, his voice thoughtful. “Especially about yourself. Not many men your age are so… grounded.” His gaze lingered on my mouth for a beat, then flickered back to my eyes. “You carry yourself with a formidable presence.”

A flush spread across my chest, deep and hot, and it had nothing to do with the room’s temperature. Marc wasn’t just acknowledging my growth; he was acknowledging my physicality, the body I’d worked so hard for, every hard plane of muscle a victory, every furrow a win. And that body–my body–hummed in response to his scrutiny.

“It wasn’t easy,” I told him, my defenses crumbling effortlessly. “I wanted to go to college, but my mom… it wasn’t an option. The Naval Academy was a gift–a chance to get an education without the cost. But it’s like they say about fitness, it’s never owned, and the rent is due every day.”

He nodded, eyes settling on my shoulders at the mention of fitness, like I hoped.

“I was raised by a single mom too, Harris.” The shared vulnerability, that brief glimpse into his own past, was a jolt. He understood, without me even saying the words.

“You look like you’ve made yourself into a fine man, son.” His words were warm, genuine.

“Thank you, sir. But I hardly think you could have been my father at fourteen,” I said, a little cheeky, testing the waters of this newfound familiarity.

He laughed, a genuine, easy sound that reached his eyes. “Fair enough. I’ll drop the ‘son’ if you drop the ‘sir.’”

“Hard habit to break,” I offered back, a grin spreading across my face. It felt good to have cut through the formality a bit, to find a shared laugh with him. But it felt… real.

A comfortable silence settled between us, broken only by the soft hum of the hotel’s ventilation. Marc leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful, a faint smile playing on his lips as he simply watched me. It wasn’t intrusive, but deeply attentive, as if he was enjoying just being in my presence.

I felt my own gaze lingering on him–his ruddy cheeks, the subtle way his shirt stretched across his chest, the forearms that hinted at his strength. Every detail about him was heightened, sharper. I noticed the fine lines at the corners of his eyes when he smiled, the slight curl of his dark chest hair visible just above his collar, the faint, clean scent of his skin.

Finally, I broke the quiet, my voice a little softer now. “Sir–Marc. I’ve watched you–from afar of course–and I want to support your campaign–however I can.” I hoped the words came off as earnestly as I meant them.

He shifted, his attention sharpening. “Oh?” he prompted, his eyebrows raised slightly, inviting me to elaborate.

I spoke freely about his policy positions, the issues I cared about that he championed–education reform, environmental protection, even his subtle pushes for LGBTQ+ rights in this conservative state. I would have been on board even if he weren’t so damn handsome–though at the moment it was hard to think of anything other than that. He listened intently, occasionally nodding, his expression conveying genuine interest.

“You’re not the usual policy wonk, Harris,” he chuckled, a warm spark in his eyes. He gestured subtly at me, a quick sweep of his hand, and a fresh heat bloomed in my cheeks. The playful appreciation in his gaze was unmistakable.

“I like to take care of myself,” I said, a faint blush returning. “I told you I wanted to be–to be like you.”

“Flatterer!” he retorted, a playful light in his eyes, but still, appreciation.

“No, sir. The media’s all over it. Governor Hardbody, isn’t it?” I teased, shocked at my own daring, pushing the boundary just a fraction, curious how far I could go, if he’d shut me down.

He put his hands to his face, but a deeper chuckle vibrated in his chest. “Please don’t put me through this. That’s junk for slow news weeks.” He lowered his hands, meeting my gaze, his expression softening, a direct, intimate challenge in his eyes. “But I appreciate the… recognition, Harris. It’s not often I get such… direct feedback.” His eyes twinkled.

“Marc–If I can ask–how did you recognize me?” The question had been gnawing at me since the official event. I thought of my cowlick, but I knew it wasn’t that. I’d had my dress cap on when we met again, so he couldn’t have seen it.

“I’m good with faces,” he said, his voice dropping to that intimate murmur again. “Always have been. Just an aptitude.” He leaned forward, just a fraction, and our knees brushed. My pulse jumped, a jolt of pure excitement. “And you have a very memorable face.”

“I was a pudgy boy when you saw me last,” I said, a self-deprecating laugh escaping me, testing his memory, testing his honesty.

He turned his face, scrutinizing me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. “I don’t remember a pudgy boy. Just a handsome–very handsome–young man, with a fire in him. Full of… promise.” His eyes held mine, conveying a depth of perception that stunned me.

I’d been called handsome, hot–a young god even, in a particularly deliriously heated moment. But no one had ever talked about my eighteen year old self that way. Marc Recchi, the Governor, saw something in that awkward, hopeful kid that no one else had. Not even me. And he had remembered it. That hit me, deep. A connection formed, across years and social divides, something that provoked some deeply felt longing I couldn’t articulate.

He was still leaning in, his gaze fixed on mine, the air thick with unspoken things. Our knees brushed again. The world outside the hotel suite, the state, his office, my Navy career–all of it faded. There was only him, and me. We both leaned forward and our lips found each other. It was a soft, hesitant brush at first, then a deepening press.

The moment we’d both been holding back finally broke. There was no need for words anymore.

4: The Encounter

“Harris, I–” he breathed, a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “If this–“

I reached up, cupping his rough jaw. “I want to,” I whispered. He didn’t have to say the words. We both knew there were powerful men who’d use bodies like mine for their own pleasure.

I would have gladly let him. But I knew that wasn’t what this was about.

The first kiss was slow, exploratory–but our hunger quickly took over, mouths opening, tongues pressing in. All those years of quiet admiration, all that pent-up longing, hit me like a wave.

We made fast work of getting into his bedroom, hands running over and under clothes–slipping into his open collar, feeling the firm muscle of his shoulders, fingers sliding under my beltline.

My shirt opened and fell away and I shivered as the air-conditioned cool hit my skin, then the warm brush of his fingertips against my chest. He traced the defined pec and etched abs that Navy training had sculpted onto my frame. My body, a testament to discipline, hummed under his scrutiny.

His hand slid up the sharp, clean lines of my military tight-fade, fingers brushing the shaved sides before ruffling the short, stubborn hair on top. His eyes darkened and he bit his lip–quick and sharp–then let it go.

“God, Harris,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration, “you’re magnificent.”

His mouth latched to a nipple and a soft moan escaped me. No matter how many times I’d heard things like this–felt that kind of desire—it was hard to sink in through the layers of doubt I’d carried for so long.

Emboldened by his open adoration, my hands reached in to grasp at his lean, muscular torso–his solid sides, the firmness so evident under his fine clothes. Years of politics and state dinners hadn’t softened him; Marc, despite his demanding public life, maintained the athletic, powerful frame of a wrestler. My already hard cock surged.

His lips found mine again, and his hands roamed my back, exploring every curve, every muscle. We pressed close, my fingers tracing the muscles under his furry chest, feeling every solid plane beneath the skin. This was a man of political power, yes, but also one of raw physical strength.

He dropped his slacks, I dropped my chinos, and our bodies met with a soft thud, cock to cock. I felt the firmness of his stomach against mine, the hardness of his thighs, the velvety brush of our erections. A perfect fit.

We tumbled into his bed where I pulled him on top of me, savoring his weight. I reached down to work his cock with my hand and spread my legs, pulling him in. Raising my hips I steered the head of his cock to my entry, feeling the velvety head there. “Harris–” he began.

“I’d have to lie if I said I didn’t prepare,” I confessed, heat running across my face and chest. A slow, disbelieving smile tugged at his lips, then a soft chuckle. “I swore if I had a chance at this I wouldn’t waste it. And six years is a long time to wait.” The shared understanding deepened without another word.

My hole cleaned out with naval precision, and even a slosh of lube inserted just before my arrival, I’d get by with only a quick spit, which Marc was ready to give.

I held his gaze with a shared breath, and felt the pressure of his cockhead to my hole, the initial push, and then the slow breathtaking stretch. Holy fuck. Despite my prep, a gasp escaped my throat. Then with a slow, deliberate slide, he was finally in me–joined.

Marc clamped hands around my shoulders like he was pulling himself deeper into me. And that’s how it felt. I was no virgin, but it wasn’t just big dick energy he was swinging–I could feel him deep in me–fucking slow and deliberate at first. Testing me to see that I could take it.

And then he fucked me, one leg under his shoulder, one around his thick waist. He’d tested my capacity and then pushed past it, in a way I’d rarely felt before. I thought he’d be more… decorous. But stripped of everything, I could feel him move on me, his wrestler instincts and moves undiminished.

“Oh fuuhhck,” I groaned, feeling the spread of my hole at his thickness, the push into my guts and the heat of his body on me. In our clutch he buried his head in the crook of my neck, murmuring–sometimes only fragments of words but conveyed his meaning just the same.

“Fuck, Harris… fucking take it,” he gasped between rough breaths, in a yet rougher thrust. “I haven’t… for so long.”

The world narrowed to just this: Marc fucking me–thrusting inside me, the smacking sound and his scent, fingers around my triceps as his back arched. Looking down I could see my own thick cock bobbing, precum being forced out and into the furrows of my abs, and at the head a pearling bead of white. “Fuck,” I gasped, “you’re fucking it out of me.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned, glancing down at where his hips disappeared into me. He arched into me suddenly, his cock hitting home as he came, dumping into me and shuddering. “Oh FUCK.”

“Keep fucking me, sir,” I practically pleaded, as he ground out the next rounds of his load.

Seeing how close I was, hearing “sir”, he drove into me as I pulled back, hitting me just so–“Fuck yeah, son.” At the sound, my muscles clenched and drove a load out of me, on my belly, in the slick space between us. His final drives forced out the rest in waves of release.

I pulled his head up to see him–to see the pleasure in this commanding man’s gorgeous face because of me. Our lips locked again, and his hands found their way to my hair. “Harris,” he whispered, his voice still rough, “that was…Your…capacity,” His thumb stroked my cheekbone. “You are truly… something else.”

I just nodded, breathless, words lost to the moment. His compliments hit me with an intensity that rivaled the climax itself. He pulled me closer again, his lips finding mine for a soft, lingering kiss, not of hunger, but of deep, shared contentment.

Time seemed to stretch and then condense as our bodies folded into each other. Our bodies seemed to just fit, effortlessly finding the nooks and soft places to rest.

There was an unspoken agreement to savor this stolen intimacy, knowing the outside world was waiting, ready to intrude.

5: The Complicated Morning After

Sunlight filtered through the suite’s heavy curtains, and I was still wrapped up in Marc’s limbs, his arm heavy and comfortable around my waist. I stirred gently, shifting, but he pulled me back into place. I could feel the word against my skin–“Stay”–sealed with a kiss.

I did, for a moment. But disciplined, I pushed up on an elbow, turning to look at him. He seemed younger, relaxed, without all the weight of being Governor on him. Still powerful, but more man than politician.

By the time I returned from the bathroom, a fresh wave of raw desire hit both of us. We both knew, without saying it, that the complications of our lives would make this the one chance we’d have. Sure, there could be trysts–assignations. But for Marc–for Governor Recchi–that would be a huge risk. And worse, it would be beneath him. Something tawdry.

We explored each other’s bodies more patiently this time, fingers tracing heated skin, whispers lost in hungry mouths. We took our fill of each other, swallowing each other’s cocks, wet and eager, and then finally with me entering him the way he’d been in me the night before. The shift in power, pushing into Marc’s readiness, was electric.

He wasn’t some young buck, all raw energy; he was honed power, a man who knew how to take and knew how to be taken. I felt his body clench around me and heard his sharp intake of breath as I found a new depth in him. His grunts and groans filled the room, deeper, more guttural as I drove into him, hitting that sweet spot he’d found in me hours earlier. It was a breathtaking second climax, one that marked the beginning of the end.

We showered and ate from the well-stocked mini fridge in the suite. Room service would have invited unwelcome eyes. Even walking out together was impossible.

“What’s next for you,” he asked, “in the Navy?” He wasn’t just making conversation; he was genuinely curious, pulling me deeper in.

I again found myself speaking unfiltered, telling him about my aspirations for a promotion, the challenges of command. The systemic flaws I wanted to correct. And he listened, truly listened. When I’d been heard, he spoke about the loneliness at the top, the constant demands, the need for authenticity and the corrosive compromises sometimes demanded of him.

“It sounds like a heavy burden,” I said, my head resting against his bare chest. “Even with all the power.”

He kissed the top of my head. “Power always comes with a cost, Harris. And sometimes, the heaviest cost is loneliness. I’ve had to walk a tightrope.” His thumb stroked the back of my hand, in what felt like an attempt to soften the blow.

“I understand,” I said. And I did. I was only a junior officer, but I knew enough about how the world worked. I rose from his bed and began to dress, my clothes, neatly folded after sex, still over the arm of a chair.

I wouldn’t ask him for things he couldn’t give. In this matter, his sacrifices would be mine too. It was a strange way to do it, but at least in this, I could be his partner, together bearing the weight of a necessary secret.

“Harris,” he said, unprompted. “The reality is… my schedule. The legislative battles. Fuck–that’s not even it.” I could hear the crushing weight already bearing down on him. “I can already hear my Communications Director, AJ. A gay relationship? With a 24-year-old Navy officer? In this state? The media would have a field day. My opponents would feast.”

He held up a hand, fingers curled and then released, to show his political career going up in smoke.

Unspoken in the moment, I was not insensible to the possible impact to my own ambitions.

“I know,” I said, buttoning my last shirt button. “It is what it is.”

“God, I fucking hate that expression.”

I’d seen men in power make hard choices before–the raw truth of it in private, not modeled for the media. I saw it in Marc then: the deep breath, the decision setting hard in his gut.

He turned away. And as I stood to walk to the door, I heard his voice.

“AJ,” he said into the phone, his voice steady, not an ounce of the turmoil showing. “We need to talk.”

END

---

Author’s note: If this story is well received I may follow up with two sequels, The State of Our Union and First Mate.

It was a little past midnight. The roads were quiet, almost eerily so — just the occasional dog barking, a flickering streetlight, and the hum of my own nerves. We’d only talked for fifteen minutes on FetLife, but something about him — the confidence in his tone, the way he said “trust me, boy” — had me saying yes before I thought it through. I had an exam the next morning. The hardest one. But here I was, waiting outside my building for a man I barely knew.

He pulled up on his scooty, cool as ever. We exchanged a quick look, no small talk. I got on behind him, and just like that, we were off.

As we rode through the dark, his hand reached back to show me something on his phone. I leaned closer. It was an old chat… my photo. Me, tied in rope, fully bound. I had forgotten I’d ever sent it. He hadn’t. My own words echoed back at me: “Sometimes I love being bonded.”

My heart skipped. It was real now.

We reached a petrol pump, and he calmly filled up. Then, out of nowhere, he looked at me and said, “Let’s take the long route, my boy.”

I blinked. “I’m sleepy… big exam tomorrow.”

He leaned in with a smirk. “Trust me. I’ll wake you up with all your senses.”

Next thing I knew, he took my hand and placed it on his hard-on. I froze — completely not ready — but he turned around and kissed me. My first real kiss like this. Messy. Bold. Dominant.

I was scared. But God, I was horny too.

We kept riding until we saw another couple on a bike — probably making out. He honked to catch their attention… then turned back and kissed me again. Right there, in front of them. And whispered, “Open it. Stroke it. Don’t think.”

And I did. I was shaking. This was crazy. Wild. Hot.

He told me stories as we rode — all about his past subs, his wildest outdoor adventures. The way he said things made me realize something: this boyish-faced guy with a soft smile… was a devil in disguise. Way more experienced than me. A real dom — and he knew it.

Then we stopped by a quiet, dark spot off the highway. No one around. He got off, looked at me, and ordered, “Strip.”

I hesitated. Just for a second. Then my shirt hit the seat.

He made me give him a handjob right there. The breeze, the risk, his voice telling me what to do — it was next level. I even had to stick my tongue out while doing it. And then we rode back, half-dressed and drunk on lust.

I thought that was it.

But when we reached my building again, he whispered, “I haven’t cum yet. Let’s go upstairs.”

And I couldn’t say no.

We ran up the stairs. He told me to go ahead and be naked and ready. I rushed in, heart thudding, and threw off my clothes. He followed, slowly stripping piece by piece as he walked in, showing that confidence I was starting to crave.

My tone flipped from playful to submissive: from “you” to “sir.”

Then he told me his fantasy — consensual control, forced roles, consented resistance. I wasn’t usually a bottom… but I said yes. Somehow, it felt safe with him. Still terrifying. Still intense. But right.

We did everything — every kink I had dared to dream about. Anal. Edging. Recording. The angles, the moans, the power. At one point, I wasn’t sure if I was shaking from fear or desire. He even got me to suck him — something I wasn’t ready for — but he talked me into it, used that voice that dripped with dominance and charm.

The marks on my body? Each one was a memory now. Hot. Unforgettable.

By the end, I was spent — physically ruined and mentally flying. I collapsed on the bed, sore and overwhelmed.

Then he turned to me with a smirk.

“Tea. Now. Naked. Kitchen window open.”

I stared at him.

“You serious?”

“Deadly.”

So I got up, bare and shivering, and made him tea with the windows wide open. He filmed parts of it, kissed my shoulders, bit down again — claiming me one last time.

We sat, sipping in silence. Then I looked at the time.

“Shit. It’s 3 a.m. I have an exam in five hours.”

He just smiled.

“I told you I’d wake you up.”

Before leaving, he gave me a massage. Not a normal one — the kind where every touch knew exactly where my body was vulnerable. Where to press. How to make me melt all over again.

“I’ll go now,” he whispered. “But don’t stop craving me.”

And then he was gone.

I stood by the door, still naked, tea cold, body marked, breath shaky.

Still craving.

Still his.

---

Written by Vansh, 22y/o

You can give me feed back on [email protected] 

The young novice, Marius Drakken, glanced around the narrowing stone stairwell as he followed Elder Wavras deeper into the depths of the catacombs. The stairway deposited them in a cobbled throughway that stretched away into darkness to their right and left. Their only light was a hovering orb of fire, conjured by Elder Wavras, and the light did not penetrate far into the darkness, leaving many shadows and places to hide.

“This was once a street,” Wavras indicated the cobbled floor and then directed Marius to look at the old walls. Marius realized that there was in fact door after door set into the stone walls, each leading to what might have once been a business or someone’s home.

“Can you tell which way they’ve gone?” Marius whispered back.

“Yes,” Elder Wavras answered absently before focusing more intently on his apprentice, “It’s not to late for you to go back, Marius.”

Marius considered the elder’s words carefully; he did not want to be in this dreadful place. The destruction of the Mythic Gardens and all the dead soldiers they had found there frightened Marius considerably, but they were also proof that whatever monster had committed those atrocities had to be stopped.

“I said I would come with you,” was the only answer Marius could give.

Marius watched Elder Wavras appraising him. It was then that Marius realized his master was not considering his safety but evaluating his usefulness. Marius felt a sudden surge of indignation.

“Unless you don’t want me here? Think maybe I’ll get in your way?”

Elder Wavras looked as if he’d been slapped and then he began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Marius asked heatedly.

“I don’t doubt your capabilities,” Wavras continued to smile, “I chose you as my apprentice because I know you have great potential. It’s just… I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Marius hadn’t expected that.

“I feel I must be honest with you,” Elder Wavras drew a calming breath, the smile slowly fading, “I’m not down here just to flush out a killer.”

“You’re not?”

“I know full well there is a high chance I will die down here, and I need you to understand these stakes before I let you go any farther. I’m here for the thrill of learning something new, to investigate new magic that we have not seen performed in centuries.”

Marius recoiled a little, his master’s face was practically giddy in the flickering firelight, almost deranged.

“I saw something,” Marius decided to admit, “A girl’s throat was torn open. I don’t know how I knew it, but I sensed it by the portal.”

“I always suspected you had a gift for clairvoyance,” Elder Wavras nodded excitedly, “That was one of the reasons I selected you. I try to test you to see if we can harness or activate that ability, not accidentally but consciously.”

Marius knew his master’s thrill for discovery and learning; he should not have been surprised to learn that he was also just another experiment in progress, but it still stung. Marius considered Elder Wavras again and even glanced back up the dark stairway from which they had come.

“You may think you only care about your next great discovery,” Marius finally spoke, “but if that is the case, why did you decide to tell me? At the end of the day, you still care about other people and strive to be a wizard that serves for the benefit of others. That’s why I chose to follow you.”

Elder Wavras considered Marius again, as if seeing him as an equal for the first time, not just his annoying student.

“Very well,” Elder Wavras briefly grasped his apprentice by both shoulders, “Together it is, but I need you to do exactly as I say.”

“Understood,” Marius nodded.

Together they set off again down the old, cobbled street. Elder Wavras would occasionally stop and put his hands out, closing his eyes in concentration. They took a right at an intersection, passed through what may have been an old tack shop, climbed several stairs, twisted and turned through a maze of passageways before descending another set of stairs. The deeper they journeyed the more confused Marius felt, he wondered how they’d ever find a way back out.

At last, they entered a vast open chamber, the great stone ceiling vaulted far above them, an old fountain in the center. Many conjured pillars of rock were jutted up from the cavern floor to support the structures above them. As they reached the fountain, the burning orb cast light on a pale green mist that was hanging in the air.

“That’s not good,” Elder Wavras suddenly spoke, color drained from his face.

Marius suddenly heard sounds in the darkness beyond their dim light. Something moved and scraped along the ground to their right, then the left. Behind them. A rasping, rattling gurgle issued from nearby in the shadows not touched by the firelight. Marius felt his heart hammering in his chest, an icy bolt of fear passing through him.

“What is it?” Marius asked his master.

“Necromancy…” Elder Wavras whispered in terror. The catacombs were filled with the countless dead of centuries, and they had been resurrected.

Marius felt a scream caught in his throat when he saw the first undead being step into the light, his mouth open in abject terror but no sound came out. Its one eye dangled from its socket, the other missing completely. Skeletal hands reached out in Marius’ direction as it shambled along. Worms and insects fell from the corpse with each step, their once peaceful banquet halls, suddenly ambulating.

“Conjure fire,” Wavras instructed, “Destroying the corpse is the only way to stop them. They won’t be hard to kill at first, but their number is their advantage. Do not let yourself get surrounded.”

“I think we’re already surrounded,” Marius quailed in a shaky voice as more undead stepped into the light from all around them.

Instead of responding, Elder Wavras began shooting gouts of flame from his hands, igniting the undead in front of him. In the sudden flare of light, they saw a hoard of undead had packed into the massive chamber around them. At the far end of the open chamber, they could now see the main entrance to the ancient palace. Its many arches and pillars would normally have been a breathtaking sight, but from within the green effluvium was billowing forth, marking it as the source of the wicked conjuration.

Marius dropped to the ground pulling a piece of chalk from his pocket. His hands trembled as he pressed the chalk so hard into the ground that it snapped in half. He fumbled for the larger piece and started again to draw a circle of protection. The undead would be on him in seconds and he felt his stomach lurch with fear.

The circle finally drawn, Marius stepped inside and let his mind focus on the symbol for fire. The lurching undead before him erupted into flames just before crossing the circle. The fire was hot, and Marius felt his hair singe, but the circle held as more of the undead hoard began to erupt into flame around him. The conjuration was exhausting and as Marius watched the hoard continue to amble forward, he knew eventually they would be overwhelmed.

__________

Yidian watched with distaste as Auren again shook the bones between his long pale fingers and then cast them to the table. The old wizard bent over his auguring, muttering to himself. Yidian had been commanded to stand in the center of the ancient wizard’s workshop and with the binding enchantment in place, Yidian could not disobey. They stood in Simon’s body, the muscles all tensed, rooted to the spot, only able to watch what was happening around them.

Yidian knew enough to understand that the complex runes and symbols that Auren had sketched around them constituted a powerful summoning circle. Auren had drawn similar patterns the night that Yidian had been called back into the world of the living. It had been an honor to be chosen by Belothemid, to be selected above all other demons to corrupt and manipulate the powers of the Seeded One.

Yidian’s eternal soul had been called to Simon, the young man in the center of the circle had been lost in pure pain and pleasure. Simon was giving himself, accepting the massive bone phallus inside of him and for the first time in thousands of years Yidian was experiencing that sexual gratification. Simon’s warm tightness was hugging the cold shaft they’d forgotten they ever possessed. In the grip of exaltation, Yidian finally grabbed Simon with unseen hands and took the offered body. They had erupted into the young man with an orgasm greater than any they’d ever experienced in life.

“He’s upset with you, isn’t he?” Yidian smirked as he watched Auren casting the bones again and muttering with obvious distress, “This isn’t the vessel you promised him.”

“Silence!” Auren commanded, and Simon’s mouth snapped shut, unable to open again.

Yidian was afraid, which was a strange emotion that they’d been forced to confront more and more often since they’d returned to the world of life. They didn’t like it, but at the same time it was just good to feel again. Simon had shown them the pleasures of life again and they weren’t ready to give it up. They wondered what would happen when the summoning was complete. Would Yidian be banished or would there be a battle for control within Simon’s mind? A battle Yidian was sure to lose.

Yidian knew Auren was getting desperate, but when Belothemid’s chosen vessel had not arrived with them at their final destination, he’d been forced to improvise. Afterall, Simon’s ability as the Seeded One made him one of the few alive that could withstand the incredible power that Belothemid would bring into this world. And without Belothemid, Auren was trapped alone in enemy territory. An army of mindless undead would only last so long against the greatest wizards of the Votu Alliance.

Yidian wondered again what made Lord Abadeer Byron so special that the dark wizard Arganon had traveled to the Riven Kingdom, adopted a new identity, and indoctrinated an entire empire just to find him. The quality Belothemid was seeking had to be related to the fact that Byron was a dragonblood. Yidian was sure of it, but they didn’t yet know how this information could be useful in their current predicament.

Yidian was suddenly pulled from his thoughts when some of Auren’s zombie’s entered the workshop carrying two figures. One was thrashing and kicking tearing uselessly at the zombie’s decaying flesh as he screamed. The other was unconscious with a severe wound trickling blood from his balding head. Both figures were unceremoniously tossed to the ground, and the thrashing boy quickly scrambled away from the undead.

“What have we here?” Auren looked up with a satisfied smile, “Such a delicious, gifted youth…”

__________

Marius Drakken turned toward the voice and saw an old wizard in gray robes standing near a large table covered with notes and candles. The man’s smiling face showed no hint of kindness or compassion, Marius knew immediately this was the necromancer they had been pursuing.

“I’m Auren Qualls,” the man’s voice like snakes seemed to crawl over Marius’ skin, “Such a pleasure to meet you.”

Marius recoiled as the old wizard approached with a hungry and vicious smile plastered on his face. The necromancer reached out a cold, clammy hand to push a few ringlets of dark black hair from Marius’ ear.

“A half-elf,” Auren hissed, “Isn’t that wonderful, Yidian?”

Marius realized that the necromancer known as Auren Qualls was not talking to him, so Marius glanced around the room to find a massive, muscular figure standing in the center of the room. The man was the perfect depiction of the male form, perfectly chiseled and firm. Since the man was naked, Marius also couldn’t help but notice his extremely large manhood. There was something unnatural about the way the man stood there motionless, and if he heard Auren’s comment, he did not respond.

Marius had always only ever been attracted to women. He, of course, was too scared and nervous to approach a woman or to have ever been intimate with a woman, but he knew where his interests lie. Seeing this man, something changed. Lustful feelings Marius didn’t know he could experience, were stirring inside of him.

“What is that?” Marius heard himself asking as he licked his lips, both desperate to know more about the exquisite figure and praying he wouldn’t have to find out.

“That is the Seeded One,” Auren whispered into Marius’ ear. The words sending a shiver down Marius’ spine. Auren moved away from the young man’s side and began to examine his other prisoner.

“You don’t wear the traditional wizard robes like he does?” Auren asked curiously.

“I like these clothes better,” Marius answered shakily.

“You like to show off that thin and slender frame, you mean,” Auren admonished, “Part of being a wizard is denying yourself certain aspects and dedicating yourself to the craft. The robes act to hide your figure and shroud yourself in your practice.”

“I just like to be comfortable,” Marius protested, unsure why he felt the need to defend himself to this murderer.

“If you’re so proud of that lithe body, let’s see you without the clothes.”

“What?” Marius asked in revulsion, “I will do no such thing.”

“Then I will kill your mentor,” Auren responded as he pulled a wicked looking dagger from within his robes.

“No!” Marius moved to place himself between Auren and Elder Wavras, but the necromancer was faster, his dagger now drawing drops of blood from the elder’s side.

“What I’m attempting will change our world forever,” Auren grinned malevolently, attempting to show that he could be reasonable, “You have much to offer, such young virile power, and you will surrender it all to serve Belothemid, or I will gut your mentor in front of you while you watch helplessly.”

Marius stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his whole body shaking with hate for this repulsive man threatening his master. Then he slowly reached for the place where his wrap shirt was fastened and began to remove the binding. Tears fell silently down his cheeks as he slowly undressed himself. Soon his pale, slender body was standing naked, he crossed his hands over his manhood.

Auren let Elder Wavras fall to the ground and then crouched before Marius. The boy stood stock still and shaking his head side to side as the necromancer indicated that he should move his hands. The wizard then reached out and tried to physically move Marius’ hands and Marius spit into his face.

“NOOOOO!!!” Marius roared into the quiet space and the sound echoed around the room. The symbol for fire erupted into Marius’ mind and suddenly the old wizard’s robes were a conflagration. Auren let out a piercing scream as he trashed around on the floor in his burning raiments.

Seizing the moment, Marius ran to Elder Wavras and began to shake his master, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state. He needed help, he didn’t know what to do next. His mind was so consumed by fear it was impeding his ability to think clearly.

Auren found his feet, gritting his teeth against the excruciating pain. A murmured spell instantly extinguishing the flames that had engulfed his robes. The flames had severely burned his undead flesh and he would bear yet more scars over his ancient body as a result.

“You try my patience!” Auren growled as he grabbed the boy by the throat and hoisted him into the air. Marius sputtered and gasped for a breath, fearing the necromancer might just crush his windpipe.

The necromancer let go, but Marius remained hovering in the air, his feet mere inches from the ground but unable to fall. Auren now examined Marius’ exposed manhood as the boy kicked and thrashed trying to free himself from the magic that held him. The necromancer’s cold hand again reached out and this time cupped gently around Marius’ balls. The warm tingling of magic began to pour into them as Auren muttered under his breath.

Marius had times when he had not relieved himself and it would cause random erections or some very interesting dreams. Auren was causing him to feel that sensation almost instantaneously, his balls were so full and desperately in need of draining. His cock twitched and then began to stiffen as the necromancer held him.

“This didn’t need to be so unpleasant,” Auren spat as he stood, his work finished. He allowed Marius to lower back to the ground.

“What do you want from me?” Marius asked weakly.

“I want you to give your seed to the Seeded One,” Auren pointed at the muscular figure in the center of the room, “All of it.”

“But…” Marius looked at the man, the most incredible man he’d ever laid eyes on. His cock pulsed again with the extreme need he now felt, veins were standing out from his shaft as it swelled.

“And when you think you’re done,” Auren continued, “I’ll fill you again, so you can continue, and you will give everything.”

“I… can’t…” Marius whispered.

“But you know you want to,” Auren was suddenly by his ear, whispering seductively into it. And he was right. Marius wanted the man so badly, he wanted to fuck that man with his virgin cock until his muscles burned and his body was utterly spent. He wanted to fill the room with the stench of his sweat and cum.

At Auren’s command, Yidian got down on his hands and knees. The thin half-elf had a surprisingly large erection when compared to his small body, certainly not an inhuman size like the orcs, but very impressive. Yidian began to suck, the boy lasted seconds, but the erection remained and he begged Yidian to keep going.

Yidian was pleased to see Auren nursing his many wounds, the flesh peeling away from his body as he removed the scorched fabric of his former robes. Yidian hoped it hurt a great deal.