Author: admin

I am Jackie a pretty femboy.  I am 23 years old, am 5-8 with brown curly hair.  I love my earring on my right ear, my pearl necklace, and beaded bracelets.   My nails are pink.  I have thing for cute sneaks and boots.  Putting on a pair of gorgeous cowboy boots can make me rock hard.  I particularly like my Cortez sneaks which I can design myself on the Nike website.  I have the traditional pair in white leather, red swoosh and blue trim.   I also have a pair in soft pink leather with a white swoosh. When they came I got hard opening the box.  I put the pink leather sneak in my mouth and sucked the toe like a cock.  I came on my gorgeous new pink sneaks and licked my warm cum off the the pink leather.   Oh fuck!

I feel so cute in these Nikes.  I wear them with pink denim shorts and a white tee.

I am wearing my pink Cortez sneaks with cute white socks and pink leather shorts in a coffee shop in the gay village.  A cool dude with black hair wearing jeans tucked into black cowboy boots comes over and introduces himself.

“Hi, I’m Tom.  Love the pink, bro.

“Thank you, I’m Jackie.  Cool boots, bro.”

We chat and a while I put my pink sneak on his boot and rub it there.

Tom puts his hand on my thigh. I am hard now and welcome Tom’s invite to go to his place.

We start kissing as soon as we get there. Tom puts his hand on my ass and  enjoys feeling my twink butt.

“Love your cute ass.  I bet you make a hot bottom.”

“You got it bro.  I love a cock deep in my ass, filling me completely.”

I go down on Tom’s gorgeous boots.  I lick and stroke the leather shaft.  I continue stroking the shaft  and take the pointed toe in my mouth to suck.

“Suck my boot, bitch.  It looks good in your mouth.  I am going to fuck your pretty face with my boot.”

I’m in heaven stroking the leather shaft and sucking the toe.

Tom takes my right pink Cortez sneak and starts to lick it and kiss it.

“I love these pretty pink sneaks. Their perfect for a bottom bitch boy.”

“I’m glad they turn you on.  I designed them myself.”

“Fuck, you’re a real bitch”

I take Tom’s hardness in my hand and start to work it.  I love looking at my pink nails wrapped around his cock.

“Blow me, pink boy!”

I start with the tip on my tongue on the top of his dick and flick it there. Then I take the whole cock and start to suck it. His hot cock fills my hungry mouth.

“Get on your hands and knees pink boy.  I am going to enjoy your cute ass and pink hole now.”

Tom takes my shorts off so he can enjoy my ass and hole.

I feel his hands working my ass.  His strong hands on my ass feel so good.  Pretty soon Tom is rimming my hole.  Oh, the pleasure of a feeling a tongue enjoying my boy hole.  I start to moan.

“Fuck me, fuck your pretty pink bitch”

“Here I come, bitch”

Tom starts slowly and gradually picks up rhythm.

“Oh, fuck your pussy feels so good. I love fucking femboys.”

Tom fucks me from behind for some time till I get on top of his cock and ride it.  I look at my pretty pink sneaks and white socks in front of me as I ride his dick. I can come at any time.

“On your back, bitch.  I want to enjoy your pink leather sneaks while I fuck you.”

“Oh yeah do my pretty sneaks while you fuck me”

Tom is holding my legs as he fucks me.  I reach for his boots so I can feel the black leather. I love being topped by  a bro wearing  high black boots. Tom leans in and licks my pink leather sneaks.  He takes the toe and kisses and sucks it.  I shoot my load when I see his lips on the pink leather.  OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Tom pulls his cock out drops his load on my ass and hole.    AUHHHHHHHHHH

He goes down and licks his cum on my hole.   He is still hard so he enters me again working my ass with his hands as he fucks me.

“Pretty pink bitch you have such a hot ass.  I want to just keep working it and fucking you. Oh yeah, bitch!”

“Don’t stop.  I am your woman aching to receive all of you”

Tom takes my right Nike Cortez and puts it in mouth.  “Suck it.  I know you love having your pink leather sneak in your  mouth.  It looks so good there.”

I am in  heaven sucking my pretty sneak while being fucked.  I suck in rhythm with Tom ‘s thrusts. 

Tom takes my sneaks and rubs it on the warm cum and then starts to fuck with the cum soaked sneak.

“OMG! Fuck me with my pretty pink sneak.  Oh fuck I’m such a bitch!”

“Yeah you’re one of the hottest bitches I have fucked.”

Tom takes my sneak and comes on it.    OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Oh yeah do it on  the pink leather.  AUHHHHHHHHHHHH

We both start licking his cum on my gorgeous sneak.

“I have a pair of hi top Nikes in white leather, pink swoosh and trim.  I’ll wear those pretty boots next time we fuck, boss.”

It was a cloudy day.  Very little sunlight and an almost constant drizzle.  What little sunlight managed to break thru the clouds would cast a glorious warmth over the trees and hills.  I was a delivery driver for one of the world’s biggest companies.  I was just another number.  I’d collect my shit – my water jug, some potato chips so my body wouldn’t try to eat itself, a piss bottle and a tupperware container in case I needed to do the dirty in the back of the van, which certainly was a normality for us rural drivers.  I’d head to the gravel lot, be handed a bag with a backup charger and a company phone or two to complete my deliveries.  Once I got my bag, I’d put on my fingerless gloves, head to the assigned vehicle, pick up my route from the station and, well, just go for it.  Not the most glamorous job, but I loved rocking just my vest, shorts and boots, exposing most of my skin to the elements.  I especially enjoyed the heat of the summer where I’d work up a good sweat and bask in my smell as the sweat dried, excreted and dried again.  I was never around anybody save for the occasional customer who’d chat it up with me from a few feet away.

My name is Tyler.  I stand at around 5’5” and sported nice arms with defined muscle groups and thick, hairy legs which I often enjoyed seeing in any reflections while out delivering.  I rocked a well trimmed goatee to offset the skin fade of dark brown hair and well-tanned skin.  Not to fluff my own feathers, but I was pretty adorable, having a cute nose, full, colorful lips, deep brown eyes and a smile that seemed to do the trick.  I definitely fit the buttle-butt boy toy vibe, with my haircut adding in a bit of fuckboy in there.  And not to mention my rather gorgeous, thick, six-inch circumsized cock.  At 140 toned pounds, I was a total bottom, and quite confident.  If there was a cock, I wanted it inside me, regardless of which end it went in.

I was delivering consistently for over eight months in the glorious city of Molalla, Oregon.  I had delivered in all sorts of places, ranging from Tigard where we were stationed, Tualatin, up to Portland and Gresham, down to Dundee, Newberg, and all the way over to Estacada.  Of all those towns and cities, Molalla took the cake.  A small, centralized town center with shy of a thousand homes, a few businesses, and a vast, wide-spread rural and countryside outskirts.  None of my fellow drivers for my company enjoyed rural routes as I did, so I bit the bullet and my dispatchers were inclined to sacrifice me to that exact route.  I met so many dogs, mostly happy fluffers.  Some I’d meet as puppies and watch grow up.  Some senior doggos who’d slowly waddle over to me to say hello.  As a major dog person, they were the highlights of my day… that and the hour long drive thru rolling hills for me to get out there.  Low stop count, low package count, long, beautiful drive and just a generally chill day.  Our dispatching time was a bit late, not usually arriving at my first stop until just past noon or later.  I knew the route well, knew the addresses, and got giddy when I’d sign into my delivery app to see that my assigned route was indeed the beautiful city of Molalla.  I enjoyed the quiet, the calm, talking to myself and to the camera in my face even though it didn’t detect sound.  I had a lot to say sometimes, and was generally in a great mood out there.  Having a lot of drive time gave my imagination plenty of time to run wild.  I was a healthy 25 year old who was naturally almost perpetually horny and I’d daydream about all sorts of fantasies, like coming across some big, strong daddy working his land and ‘servicing’ him.  If I was in an apartment complex, I’d fantasize about one of the customers opening the door to reveal a big, hard cock for me to suck on.  Of course, that stuff never actually happened, but my thoughts were nice company.

On that cloudy, drizzly day, a normal late summer day in Oregon, I sat in my van on the side of the road in one of the few places where I didn’t feel like I was in the way as I took a few moments to relax for my break.  The nearest homestead was just over a mile away.  The daylight was rapidly diminishing and the space behind most of the foliage and trees were very dark.  Peace and calm.  I had my booted, sweaty feet propped up on the passenger seat where my bag sat.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon to see the occasional deer or elk wander by.  Avoiding wildlife was just one of those things you have to deal with when you’re out there.  Sometimes their eyes would reflect some light back to give away their presence.

I happened to glance out thru the passenger window, taking in the beautiful green mesh of plants that surrounded the gravel road I was parked to the side of.  I saw something that was, well not quite right.  Red.  Softly glowing red.  Two red lights, like tiny orbs, side-by-side as if a dear was staring back at me with unnatural eyes.  My brows furrowed as I stared at them.  I was patently awake, not dreaming, which is what made my heart sink.

So, a few months before this, I had kinda sorta got into some, should I say, naughty stuff, regarding things like demons and shit.  The kind of stuff that one would find animations by talented creators all over sites like Rule34Video and e621.  It naturally led to some exploration into the occult.  The very idea of being raped mercilessly by some oversized monster was beyond hot to me.  I came across this dark-web site which gave some clearly bogus nonsense about summoning one of those things from hell and, well, I may have, possibly, but definitely did, do what it said.  I had to pronounce the words, place my hands to the Earth beneath me, stand up and say the words again.  I mean, it was total nonsense, and I laughed at myself for being silly enough to waste time doing it.  The “ritual” as it was referred to from the sight promised a visit by a certain creature that would either fuck you or get fucked by you, depending on which of the two variations of the phrase you used.  In biblical terms, I think it would be classified as an incubus and succubus.  But I wasn’t one who subscribed to or followed such superstitions or fictions.  I was a horny and I had a bit to drink.  There was nothing to it.  Just complete nonsense from some bullshit site which spewed, well, nonsense and bullshit.  And given the choices between fucking or getting fucked, can you guess which one I selected?  I mean obviously, getting fucked sounded way better.

Subsequently, I had begun experiencing these interesting dreams which felt no different than some wacky dream after having a bit too much sugar close to bedtime.  I’d see glowing red eyes, embodied thru a huge pitch-black body against a dark background of green.  The details of the body couldn’t be made out.  The dreams felt jumbled and would start out like any other dream.  Just a mesh of sounds and images that were poorly pieced together as my sleeping mind did a pitiful job at conjuring up any sort of coherent narrative.  However the unique dream would begin, it would end the same.  I’d look upon a static image of the dark figure with red eyes, watch as it would float closer and closer until it seemed to merge with me in a jolt, causing me to wake up.  Whatever emotions or feelings I had during the start of the dream would devolve into a paralysis of anticipation and dread.  It wasn’t every night, maybe about once or twice a week.  Although the image lacked true detail as to the features of the figure, the outline was enough to make out some truly muscular arms.  Being the horny 25 year old I was, I’d awake from the dream and immediately pull up some naughty videos and jerk off thinking about those huge, muscular arms, because of course I did.

So you can imagine how I felt at the sight of some close-set red orbs in the distance.  I couldn’t look away.  I just stared at the orbs, monitoring for any movement.  I felt my fight or flight response kick in.  I knew from experience with some, let’s just say less than friendly dogs, that I was a fighter.  Genetics did me a dirty, because being 140 pounds and an exceptionally fast runner would seem to make a flight response the more beneficial reaction to a hostile situation.  But, you get what you get, you can throw a fit but it won’t change anything.  Against my better judgement and against company policy, I had been carrying a sidearm since I started delivering out there.  A purely self-defense weapon that fit my hands like a glove.  A Smith & Wesson SD9VE.  A very nice shooter.

Planting my feet onto the floor between the seats, I leaned down towards my backpack on the floor ahead of the passenger seat, momentarily breaking my view of the orbs to pull it close to allow access to the weapon at the bottom of the bag.  Leaning back up, and to my surprise, the orbs were still there.  I retrieved my unloaded pistol and, without looking away, opened the small pouch at the front of my backpack to fetch the magazine loaded with my hollow points, inserting it into the pistol.  I cocked a round into the chamber and set the pistol on my lap.

The orbs remained static, not once even flinching.  What the hell were they?  I considered just driving away, but curiosity got the better of me.  So, as an immature 25 year old might do, I decided I was going to walk out there and see what’s going on.  I stood up, tucked my pistol against my backside to be held in place by my belt strap and made my way to the side cargo door as I would during any delivery.  I yanked the heavy door open, sliding it into its locked position and departed the running vehicle.  By all that is wrong in the world, they were still there.  It was August, so there was almost zero chance that they were Christmas lights.  But I had this sinking feeling that it wasn’t man-made.  Something about it immediately triggered my fight or flight.  I wasn’t exactly a meat-head – I knew when my mind was fucking around with me and could take a step back to analyze a situation, but this was something, I dare say, primal.  Perhaps unnatural.  Every fiber of my being told me I was in danger.

Boys will be boys, as they say.

I slowly approached the pathway which had been carved out by, I’m assuming, local residents.  I just stood there, not able to coax myself any farther, looking at those ominous orbs.  It couldn’t have been more than 500 feet away from me by that point.  I slowly began to walk backward towards my van.  I hadn’t gotten very far from it and could smell the exhaust.  I looked back to the step, hopped in and slammed the door closed.  Returning to my seat, I looked back and the orbs were gone.

What would have happened if I approached the source of that light?  Would they have disappeared if I got too close?  Did they disappear because I decided not to approach?  And most importantly, why was I arbitrarily anthropomorphizing the lights?  In my guts, I felt compelled to do so, even though a critical and logical mind would tend away from assigning such ideas.

So, still having a job to do, I got myself resituated.  I unloaded my sidearm and returned the weapon and its magazine to where I fetched them from.  I began to laugh at my silliness, berating myself to the camera as I usually did for being so foolish.

I carried on with my deliveries, and made an uneventful journey home.  Aside from the orbs, it was a normal, good day at work.  That is, until I entered my studio apartment.  The moment I opened the door to the well-lit main room, that same fight or flight response kicked in.  Adrenaline began coursing thru me and my hands started to get shaky.  It was more intense this time.  Much more intense.  No glowing orbs, just a familiar, empty apartment.  I hesitated to move past the threshold and into the room.  Something inside me told me not to enter for any reason as my mouth went dry.  But this was my home.  It might have been a bit small, but it was a clean, comfortable place for a single adult.

I just stood there, backpack over my shoulder and a water jug and bag in one hand.  I felt like I needed to rub my eyes, but after a day of delivering, my hands were filthy and my gloves soaked in sweat.

I must have stood there for a solid two minutes before forcing myself to enter.  I set my stuff down by the door as per usual and locked the door behind me.  The feeling was subsiding, but still quite prominent.  I tried to breathe it off and reassure myself that I was alone in a safe place.  My place.  It’s not like there were many places to hide.  But I felt like I wasn’t alone.  I often laughed at those who watched shows that “investigated” the “paranormal” who took it seriously, and was familiar with my own psyche.  I knew in my heart of hearts that all that shit was, as I said before, complete nonsense.  So then, why couldn’t I shake the feeling?

I’m not sure if I had started to become accustomed to that feeling or if it was subsiding, but I found myself able to calm down a bit and get on with the rest of my night.  So I went about my night as I normally would: get out of my sweaty clothes, rinse off my sticky body in the shower, get some food from the fridge, have some whiskey, and just chill out on the couch to watch whichever series I was currently obsessed with.  The whiskey definitely helped calm my rattled nerves.

When I stood in front of the mirror after my shower, I felt the strangest sensation I ever experienced.  When I looked into the reflection of my eyes, I saw myself, but also felt like someone or something was looking back at me thru my own eyes.  Compared to the uneasy feeling I had since I walked into the apartment that night, it was easy enough to push aside.

The show I was watching was Star Trek: The Next Generation.  I made it a few episodes before landing on the one where the xenophobic aliens inhabit Deanna, and the crew set about accommodating them by setting the ship up so they wouldn’t know they had encountered the aliens after their memories were wiped by the xenophobes.  The scene where Deanna looked to the mirror and saw someone else looking at her thru her own eyes absolutely shook me to my core.  It was like my adrenaline rush and fight or flight started all over again.

Major NOPE!  I immediately switched over to watch Friends.  What the fuck is wrong with me, I thought to myself.

After another hour or so, my eyes were getting heavy and it was time to hit the hay.  I made sure to retrieve my pistol and place it by the side of my bed as I usually would.  It gave me some comfort knowing it was easily accessible.

I flicked off the night from my nightstand, pulled my body pillow against me and got comfortable.  I just wanted the day to end and to move on.  But every time I closed my eyes, I saw those red orbs from earlier when I was in Molalla.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding,” I said outlout to myself.  “Get over yourself, Ty.”

So I’ll admit, I refused to refer to red orbs I saw as anything but.  Fuck that.  Nothing on Earth has truly bioluminescent eyes.  Nothing.  Literally none.  Well, there are few fish that have bioluminescent organs near their eyes, but nothing on land, and NOTHING so absolutely red.  Sure, many animals have eyes that reflect light.  But red?  When there was still some daylight?  Nah.  That’s not a thing.  Like hell I’d give even a bit of latitude to the idea that what I saw was a pair of eyes.  No.

Almost on queue, the rain outside seemed to pick up.  Flashes of light began, rumbling the building with thunder.  It wasn’t exactly a prime thunderstorm area where I lived.  Huh.  Well how ‘bout that.

I kept my eyes closed and tried to focus in on the image, directly at the orbs, hoping it would almost hypnotize me into falling asleep as if I focused on my eyelids.  Each time I did, I would be overcome by fear and anxiety and have to open my eyes to escape the image.  I continued with this pattern a few, maybe five times before I gave up.  Every attempt seemed to make it worse.  I was rapidly becoming annoyed.  I had to work the next day, and considering I ran 10 to 12 hours shifts, staying awake wasn’t optional if I wanted to be in good shape to safely operate a delivery vehicle for 8 to 10 hours.  After giving up, I decided that the best thing to do was to turn my light on and watch a bit more TV until I started to pass out.

But unfortunately my light didn’t work.  Of course it didn’t cuz why would anything work properly.  Great, I get to do some shopping tomorrow, I thought to myself, annoyed as I rolled my eyes.  Welp, who needs a lamp when they got a big ol’ TV that would do the trick?

I got up cautiously from the bed, draping my blanket over my shoulders to stay cozy, moving slowly to make sure I didn’t stub a toe on my boots or the couch legs.

Care to guess if the TV worked or not?  Certainly THAT would work.  But alas, to my absolute dismay, it did not.  I sighed in disbelief, turning around to head towards the circuit breaker.  The only reason both wouldn’t work was if both their breakers had flipped or if power was down entirely.  It wasn’t a long travel by any means, but I became more and more uneasy as I moved thru the very dark room.  I hadn’t been truly scared of the dark for over a decade by that point, but for some reason it was something that stuck to me like glue.  The farther I made it, the more intensely I felt the need to get the lights back on.  Opening the panel cover, I immediately could tell that all the breakers were closed.  And I knew it wasn’t a power outage because the hallway light was softly illuminating between the floor and the door – the hallway had no emergency lighting.

I tried to sweep it under the rug, thinking to myself that it was a ‘tomorrow’s me’ problem.  I made my way to my bed, cozying up against my pillows, hoping I could shake the image of the red orbs.

I felt something completely abnormal.  It was a considerable vibration.  Something deep, seeming to originate from the walls of my room.  It wasn’t a car engine and it definitely wasn’t the crack of thunder.  Certainly not.  My eyes jolted open, focusing on the dim lights seeping thru the bottom of the door, hoping to catch something moving out there to help explain the strange sound.  It continued, becoming louder.

“Uhhh…” I sounded as I listened for the origin of the vibration.

As suddenly as it began, it halted.  I was drenched in a cold sweat from a mixture of anxiety, startle and most of all, fear.  My fight or flight response kicked in again.  But strangely, instead of fight, it was flight.  I felt a need to get away from it.  But where?  This was my home.  My family was a twenty-hour drive away.  I kept to myself, and the fact that my coworkers and I never really got to associate for more than a few minutes each day contributed to my having zero true connections nearby, with the exception of one of my neighbors who was a truly wonderful person and made it her mission to get to know me – she was away for a work trip..

I was totally alone.  I felt trapped in a cage.

I lay there quietly, eyes focused on the hallway light for maybe five minutes, letting myself calm down from the adrenaline.  I closed my eyes again, trying to ignore the red orbs as if they were a figment of my imagination, nothing more than an after image.

“Tyler,” said a loud, bass-laden voice, originating from all around me… or maybe it was voices.

I jolted upward, sitting up, my eyes opening to see the same red orbs that seemed to be seared into my eyelids.  I was looking down to the end of my bed.

My eyes were locked on the orbs.  I tried to reach for my phone to use its flashlight but my intense fear made my body unresponsive.  The lights seemed to be close to the ceiling.  I was nearly hyperventilating, feeling my pulse so strongly that my ears were almost twitching.  You know that feeling when you get into cold water and your cock shrinks dramatically?  Yeah, and my balls seemed to absorb into my body, too.  I knew my pistol was close by, but I couldn’t get my body to budge.

The orbs… the eyes I saw before were feet away from me.  They were against an absolutely black background.  It wasn’t a dream.  I was very much awake and cogniscent.  But something overcame me.  I can’t describe it.  I had to get closer.  I needed to, with every fiber of my being, get a close look.

I didn’t even think about it.  My body was shaking as I carefully pulled the sheets and covers off my body.  I slowly stood up on the mattress.  The eyes were even closer to the high ceiling that I was.  Even on my mattress, my finger tips could hardly graze the ceiling.

I took a slow step forward, easing my weight onto the advanced foot to begin to step forward with the other foot.  I was speechless, almost hypnotized.  I kept getting closer until I was standing at the edge of the bed, my head craned upward as the orbs seemed to be an arm’s length away.  I stared, my jaw slack and breathing heavily thru my mouth.  I could finally see an outline.  It looked just like the figure from my dreams.  How could a rational person willingly walk towards the origin of an unnatural fear?

Whatever I was looking at, it had a humanoid shape.  A clear head, neck, massive shoulders, those muscular arms, huge hands, torso, etcetera.  This is what I had been seeing in my dreams.  I didn’t notice my eyes wandering away from the red, naturally shaped eyes.

“You’re real,” I whispered, not even realizing I verbalized the thought, looking back to the eyes.

Almost in a trance, I lifted my hand, holding it close to my chest.  Some semblance of critical thought had been restored in me.  All I knew was that any animal this close to a human would have either fled or attacked in self defense.  And here I was less than three feet from… something, presumably the same something that I’d been seeing in my dreams.  I felt tears of terror begin to build in my eyes.  Was I really about to reach out to see if it was tangible?

I did not look away from the glowing eyes.  In slow motion, I reached my hand forward.  There seemed to be an aura of warmth around the figure as I got closer.  I continued reaching.

My finger tips made contact.  It was so warm.  I jerked my hand away reflexively before pushing it back towards the heat.  My finger tips touched again and I gently rested my palm over it, slowly moving downward to ascertain its consistency.  It was smooth and was as warm as the most cozy shower temperature.  The moment seemed to process slowly in my head.  My hand moved down a couple of inches before I seemed to regain self control.  My eyes had adjusted well to the ominous background.  I noticed far more than before.  Upon its head, two horns rising no more than five inches, perhaps half a foot apart, curing slightly inward towards each other.  Its jaw was wide and commanding.  Its arms were these huge, muscular structures that connected to a set of wide, big shoulders.  Pectorals and abdominals so well defined that they could puncture a tire.  Legs like tree trunks forming into enormous human-shaped feet.  Swinging slowly from side to side was what appeared to be a tail with a bulbous tip which had to be at least six feet in length.  And to top it off, in the most obscene way possible, what I could only describe as some sort of fever-dream of a cock.  It had to be as thick as my forearm and as long as my thigh.  But to be honest, I was in shock enough that it hardly registered with me what I was seeing.  And the eyes.  The red was the coloration surrounding the large, round pupils.  There was a clear pattern.  It was rather pretty.  As I gazed closely at them, their beauty was so clear.

Oh my god, it was real!  I touched it.  I felt its heat.  I thought I would have a heart attack as I came to my senses and tried to sprint away in a panic.  But the bed was so soft and in my haste I tripped myself onto my ass on the mattress.  My head jolted back to the glowing eyes, tears falling down my face.

“Are you…” I meekly began to mutter, hoping my words weren’t audible.  “Are you real?”

A sound began to emerge from all around me.  It was like a growl originating from the walls themselves.  It was beyond terrifying.  My tears were streaming fast.  I was in mortal terror.  It hadn’t moved once except for the tail, its head and eyes seeming to follow and track my own.

Against my better judgement and instincts, I started to stand up again on my shaking legs to face the thing.  Its hand was slowly extending in my direction.  I dared not move a muscle when I noticed the movement.  It continued toward my chest.  I felt its warm finger tips touch my side, causing my body to freeze up.  The fingers, each thicker than my wrist, continued to move across my side, going farther until its palm was against me.  Its fingers travelled around my back until reaching my other side.  Holy shit those hands were big!  I felt pressure, a lot of it.  I feared it might have been attempting to crush me to death.  The weight on my feet was decreasing.  In a sudden movement, I was violently yanked in its direction.  I thought I was about to throw up from the almost paralyzing fear.  Its eyes were so close to mine.  I stared into them, feeling my heart rate decrease as my legs relaxed and was struck by how beautiful those eyes were so close up.

“You summoned me,” that loud voice verberated from my surroundings.  “You will be mine.”

For the first time, I saw its lips move as it exposed its white, smooth, sharp teeth in what I can only describe as the most evil smile I have ever witnessed.

It began to squeeze tighter, eliciting a scream of surprise from me.  I didn’t have time to get much sound out as something had entered my mouth.  It was smooth, warm and thick.  It went so deep, so fast, I didn’t realize it had happened until I started to gag.  Something was at the back of my throat.  I came to my senses again.  It was his tail.  It felt just like a cock would, only warmer and bigger.

“Open wide,” the deep voice said thru the most wicked laugh I’d ever heard.

Its tail was pushing deep, forcing into my throat.  I tasted something.  It felt slick.  Almost sweet.  Precum?  But it wasn’t salty.

The hand was holding me at a 45-degree angle, and I lost sight of the eyes as my vision was obstructed by its huge tail.  Whatever this thing was and whatever it was doing to me, it felt sexual.  Was I being raped?  And why wasn’t I resisting?  The warmth of its hand, the weightlessness on my feet, something about it was oddly helping me relax into its hold.  It was like a warm blanket as its hand encompassed my small torso, its thumb wrapped around the front of my chest.  And what was worse – I was becoming aroused.  I loved few things more in life than having a thick cock in my throat.  But what even was this thing?  And why was I accepting what was happening?  I didn’t try to bite at the tail thing as it travelled even deeper, cutting off my air supply, instead, covering my lips to protect it from my teeth, assuming I would have been able to inflict damage upon it if I tried.  I was defenseless, unable to protest.

The shaft in my mouth and throat withdrew enough to where I could breathe again.  It shoved down even farther, quickly as I could expect from a dom I’d meet up with on Grindr.  It pulled back again.  Was my fantasy of being raped by an oversized monster actually happening?  My mind replayed its words: “You summoned me.”  Was this thing here because of that silly “ritual” I did?  Because of the nonsense I allowed myself to do just to kill time one night?  That would be impossible, right?  But then, a human-looking thing with a hand so big it could hold me by the torso?  With a tail?

“You offer no resistance,” the rumbling voice said.  “Worthless.  Pathetic slut.”

It gave off another one of those wicked laughs which vibrated from the walls of the room just as a loud crackle of thunder sounded off.  I found its words arousing.  I think my cock was rock hard by that point.  My arms were unrestrained, and without thinking, I placed a hand over its mighty thumb on my chest.  It was huge.  I lightly ran my hand over the warmth as I continued to swallow whatever fluid was being deposited in my mouth by that tail thing.  It seemed to be an endless stream.  I did what a proper cocksucker would do and started to work my tongue around it, closing my eyes.  I moved my other arm to drape over the side of its hand, resting it there upon its heat.

It again yanked me, pulling my body to be face-to-face with its own.  As I gazed into its red eyes, I felt a desire to keep sucking the shaft in my mouth, using my own strength to move my head back and forth, only going so far to have the tip strike at the back of my throat.  It… He?  He was undeniably masculine.  An unnatural force of pure masculinity.  If the circumstances were different, I’m sure I would have found Him attractive in that way.  Perhaps I did, regardless.

“Pathetic, but useful,” He said.

I accidentally let out a moan as I increased the suction around His tail.  Based on His next moves, I think it served as an invitation.  His other hand moved towards my briefs, sliding one of its thick fingers past the elastic waistband before ripping it away in a single motion, exposing my hard, leaking cock.  His teeth bared in an evil smile.

“Submit,” He said thru that deep vibration of a voice.

His tail withdrew entirely from my mouth as I savored the flavor of the fluids it was depositing.  Something big, warm and wet touched my ass, spreading the cheeks apart as the warmth made contact with my hole, sending a shiver thru my body.  It was hard.  I’m certain it was the monstrous member between His legs.

“Submit!” He commanded, seeming to shake the entire room as another crack of thunder sounded off on queue, His face giving an obvious expression of demand and anger.  “SAY IT!”

I was speechless.  His voice was so loud and deep that I felt it in my skull and thru my body.  How could I bring myself to utter a single word before this thing?  I stared at the evil look on His face.  It was clear that non-compliance wasn’t really an option.  What would happen if I refused?  Would He leave?  Would He rape me without mercy?  What if I did signal my submission?  The same questions applied.

“I…”  I paused, trying to get some sound out of my mouth in a coherent pattern.

Why was I so turned on?  I was frozen in fear and terror just minutes before but seemed to be overcoming it as I relaxed into His hold on my body.  I began to wonder if the fluids I swallowed from His tail were playing with my head.  Or maybe it was a genuine desire to submit.  I couldn’t tell.  He was waiting for an answer.  Surely He would have continued His use of me if He could have.  Perhaps He just wanted to hear me say it.  So many questions – so few answers.  I felt the desire to say it.  I was terrified, but also felt like it may have been a dream come true.  I did the “ritual” hoping, albeit foolishly, for something like this to happen.  I invited this into my life.  And to put a cherry on top, I was believing more and more that this was precisely a result of my actions from that day.

“I submit,” I whispered, hoping my words were inaudible.

His evil smile got bigger.

“You are mine,” He said in the quietest voice thus far, escalating into another wicked laugh.

“I’m yours,” I said without realizing.

I immediately started to scream out in pain.  He had pushed my body down onto His cockhead, breaching my tight hole.  My scream was drowned out by yet another crack of thunder, seeming even closer than the previous sounds of thunder.  I couldn’t continue letting out my cry of pain as His tail entered my gaping mouth and travelled so deep down my throat.  I was being lowered farther and farther on the penetrating object.  The heat radiating from it seemed to encourage my body to loosen up around Him as He continued forcing me lower and lower.  He struck what felt like an unbreachable barrier deep inside me and I hoped it was as far as he would go.  I had no way of resisting.  I was like some doll in His hand that only existed to be used to His fullest desires.

The barrier inside me didn’t seem to offer any significant resistance as He pulled me closer to the base of the shaft.  Nothing so big had ever been inside me.  My body was searing from pain and discomfort at the invasion.  It seemed to last forever, but in reality was less than fifteen seconds before I felt the heat of His body radiating into me thru my ass cheeks.  He bottomed out, the entirety of his cock was inside me, rearranging my guts as His tail remained so deeply embedded down my throat.  I was struggling to hold on thru the pain and lack of air.  I reached up and tried to pull the tail away so I could breathe again.  I couldn’t get it to budge even a little.

“Yes, slave,” He said, vibrating the walls.  “Resist.”

Almost at His command, I lifted my feet, placing them on His massive thighs to try to push away from him with all my might.  It was hopeless.  I pushed and pushed but nothing happened.

I exhausted my legs after a good minute of trying to push away and they went slack.  His tail finally withdrew and I could breathe again, whimpering like a bitch as I took in as much air as I could around the tail and my thru my nose.

“You are mine to rape,” He said thru his evil smile.

My hardon, which had subsided upon His entry, had returned.  The pain was starting to diminish.  It was tolerable.  And the more I swallowed the fluid from His tail, the less painful it was.  It was all the encouragement I needed to begin working my mouth on the tail, thrusting my head on the length as I took it purposefully into my throat.  I was in heat.  I desired His use.  I was fully impaled on an unnatural monster of a cock that no human could hope to match.  My hips began to gyrate, massaging my insides with what little length I could manipulate thru His unbreakable hold on my body.

His first thrust was small but powerful, slamming His warm pelvis against my ass.  He did it again.  On the third thrust, he pulled back until it almost left my body before hammering it back in with such force that it shook my entire body.  I squealed from the mixture of pain and intense pleasure.  He continued like that, hammering me over and over as I tried to scream out thru His tail which began to throatfuck me.  All I could do was endure it, experience the abuse of my hopelessly defenseless body.  He held my body stationary to receive His violent thrusts.  Each time he would do so, he busted his shaft back into my guts and I’m sure my belly had a visible bulge when he would bottom out.

So this is what it’s like to be raped mercilessly by those animated porn monsters, I thought to myself.  But it was better than I would have hoped.  Both my holes were being used by a single monster.  This monster was silently raping me, filling the room with the sounds of loud slaps of skin hitting skin and the sounds of my choking and gagging on His tail.

He suddenly stopped, pulling my body from His cock and quickly removing his tail from my mouth and throat.  I gasped loudly at His sudden withdrawal, staring into His eyes in confusion, pleading for more.  I felt my hole gaping and the cool air made my hole desire His warmth.

“What’s the matter, slut?” His voice vibrated, taunting me.

He threw my body onto the mattress like a rag doll, knocking the wind out of me as I landed on my back with such force.

“Tell me!” He commanded in concert with another crack of thunder.  “Tell me, you want me to rape you.  To use you at my leisure.”

I started to regain my breath.  As devastatingly big as He was, my body yearned for Him.  My cock was leaking all over.  The sweet taste of His precum was inescapable.  I turned over onto my stomach, arching my hips towards Him as I held my ass cheeks open as an invitation to enter my gaping hole.  He laughed, enjoying the sight of my subservience and pathetic display.

“I’m yours,” I said to Him quietly.  “Please rape me, please.”

I was pleading, hoping more than anything to experience more of His merciless usage.  I was a bitch in heat, panting as I pathetically awaited Him.

I felt His hand begin to reestablish its hold on my body, elevating my yearning body towards Him.  In a quick motion, He pressed the cockhead against my quivering hole and rammed Himself inside of me, eliciting another scream of surprise, pain and pleasure from me.  And merciless usage was exactly what I received.  His tail found its way back into mouth as He held it stationary in front of me.  As he moved my body forward, removing much of His length from my guts, the tail went so deep inside my throat, at least a foot, before jerking my body back against His pelvis.  Then forward, then back, forward then back.  It was fast, rough and prevented me from making too much sound as He moved my body to his desires.  It lasted a good five minutes at least.  To say I enjoyed every second would be an understatement.  My legs were moving back and forth like some piece of meat.  I held onto His huge fingers for dear life.

He changed the motions, this time holding me stationary as He began to pound away with his unnatural strength.  With each thrust inward, His massive balls would swing up and slap against my cock and belly, all the while plummeting His tail into my throat in concert with each thrust.  I had to time my breaths perfectly each time the head of His tail retreated back into my mouth.

I had absolutely submitted myself, unconditionally.  I doubt He could read my thoughts, but I kept saying in my head things like: please don’t stop, rape me harder, make me yours.

I could feel the pressure inside me building as jets of my cum sprayed all over beneath me and onto the bed below me.  His thrusts were savage, powerful and unyielding.

He started moaning, or at least I think it was a moan.  It was more of a vibration that continued and slowly escalated as my orgasm began to subside.  He continued raping me.  There was no pause even as I came.  And I knew that if it continued, I would absolutely cum again.  But my post-orgasm state made it difficult to handle the huge length of His tail which was brutally using my throat.  It was clear that He would continue until, well, whenever He was done.

Cracks of thunder began to sound and rumble almost nonstop.  As It began, I felt my belly expanding with a pressure as something hot was flooding into me.  The vibration coming from Him escalated dramatically, shaking my body and almost hurting my ears.  The tail went farther down my throat than ever before and I felt it pulsing, flexing violently.  He was obviously cumming, depositing an ungodly quantity of hot fluids into my guts and stomach.

He bottomed out once more, my hands around His tail as I attempted to pull it away from me.  I couldn’t breathe and my head was getting fuzzy.  I was suffocating.

The vibrations ceased as did the thunder.

He finally allowed me to breathe again, quickly withdrawing His tail from my throat, only my ass being fully impaled on the unnaturally large cock as I took in as much air as I possibly could, coughing and heaving from the abuse.  He allowed my hands to remain on His tail as He slowly thrust it within my grip, using His precum and my throat slime to glide it thru.  I felt so much of the fluid he deposited into my guts start to flow out, dripping down my balls and onto the floor, hearing the large drops land with a splat on the building puddle.

My head was spinning.  I couldn’t tell if I was facing up or down.  He began to rotate me on the shaft with His huge hand, repositioning His palm around me.  He adjusted my stature, bringing me face-to-face with His red eyes and evil smile.  My eyes slowly focused in as I wiped the tears away, feeling His stare into my soul.  He looked pleased and it made me feel strangely complete.  I served Him well to His desires.  I accepted my place and submitted myself to His use.  There was no going back.  I felt it in my bones that I’d be seeing His face often.  I was tired, spent and my holes had both been injected by what I assumed was His seed.

He swiftly pulled my body off His cock, causing me to gasp.  I felt His fluid dripping out of my gaping hole.

“I was gentle this time,” He started.  “You have submitted yourself.  You are MINE.”

He started to lower me towards the floor, allowing me the privilege of not simply dropping me onto my used ass.  But the ground was so slippery with an immeasurable amount of His fluid.  He released me and I immediately slipped onto my ass.  I was so exhausted that my body collapsed, sliding onto my back.  I was laying on the floor in the puddle He left for me, smelling much like cum, but a bit different.  Without thinking, I arched my head to the side and stuck my tongue out to taste it.  It tasted like the precum from His tail, only stronger.

“Pathetic,” His voice rumbled with His evil laugh.  “You will provide me with much enjoyment.”

The rumbling stopped.  There was nothing but silence in the room and the soft sound of the rain hitting the window.  I looked over, noticing He was gone.  I lay there in disbelief that what I’d experienced could have been real, alone in the puddle of cum.  The cum and my sore holes were a constant reminder that it was, in fact, very real.  That thing had appeared in my room.  It raped me, savagely.  I had a sinking feeling in my heart that I would be seeing Him again.  He said he was gentle with me.  It didn’t feel that way.  I was scared to find out what my next experience would be like.  When I closed my eyes, I couldn’t see His eyes.  But I could vividly remember every detail of His body.  His rather beautiful eyes, enormous cock, hands so big and strong that He didn’t struggle to manipulate my body to His desires.  I felt a need to witness Him again, to gaze upon His visage.  A connection was made between master and slave.  That was the last thought I remember from that night before passing out in the mess of cum He gifted to me.

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My Name is John I was born and raised in a small township called middlebag. I grew up as a very handsome boy and always getting complimented by girls left and right. I lived with my stepfather and Mom.i was the only boy to mother. When I got to college I went live with my grandma. I started to notice changes in my body I developed a very fat Ass i couldn’t believe my eyes everytime I looked in the mirror I also developed small breast it was like I was girl in a men body. I was always getting mocked everytime at school but I didn’t care because I loved my body. I loved wearing track suits and tights because they made me feel comfortable.

My grandma usually left me home alone at weekends. I would usually sneak into her room and try her clothes we wore the same size because she was also thick and had very nice body she looked very young. I would sneak into her room and try her clothes I was surprised to see a drawer filled with different types of thongs and G-string i would fit one and take pictures they really looked good on me. I got horny from watching myself big fat Ass. I would start touching myself I as stroked my small dick while I finger my hole as moaned DAMN FUCK FUCK AS I watched my Ass clapped. I wouldn’t mustibate everyday as I watched my Fat Ass while having thoughts of getting fucked my different men with very huge dicks I wanted rough sex being fucked the whole night and day with no rest.

So my grandma went to visit my mom for week since she was not feeling well. So I was home alone in the house. So I went for shopping I got myself a dildo to fuck myself and lingerie. So I bathed when I got home and tried on my lingerie and I oiled my whole body and dick as I prepared to fuck myself with a dildo as I recorded myself. I started fucking myself with the dildo for hours as moaned louder SHITTTT SHITTTT THIS IS GOOD OMGGG SHITTTT as stroked my dick OMGGG DAMN SHITTTT FUCK FUCK FUCK as I twerked and rided the dildo. Until I cummed harder. As I was sleeping I heard knock in tried ignoring it but this person continued knocking hard.

I put on a towel and went to check who was it . It was my neighbor he was drunk he couldn’t find the key he asked if he could sleep and we look for the key in morning I said you may come in. We went in as I locked the door. He asked for the bathroom I directed him. I saw that he was taking time I went to check on him when I got by the door i heard sound like FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK I slightly opened the door he was stroking his dick so hard I got horny by watching the him stroke his huge penis it was so long and thick about 12inches. I also started touching myself as I watched him continued to stroke that huge dick. He saw me by the mirror and immediately stopped I closed the door and run to the dining room. He followed me in the dining room as he asked me that did I like what saw i was shy to answer but you could see that I was so horny my dick was hard under the towel. 

He came closer and started to kiss me I resisted but eventually gave in we kissed roughly like we’re hungry for one another he picked me up to the sofa as we continued passionately kissing he took off my towel and started stroking my dick hard I moaned heavily AHHH AHHH FUCK FUCK FUCK OMG OMG SHITTTT FUCK FUCK I as moaned he took his clothes to my surprise he was not wearing any underwear. He started kissing every part of my body as he gave me hot blow job my thighs were shaking this men knew very well what he was doing. I moaning louder SHITTTT SHITTTT THIS IS GOOD OMGGG Don’t Stop suck me harder. I stood and got to my knees as suck the hell out of him I sucked every part of his dick it was so huge it couldn’t fit in mouth.

FUCK BABYYY AHHHH AHHHH as sucked his dick like no body business he hold my head and fucked my throat Salvia all over the floor he was moaning like crazy FUCK FUCK OMG FUCK SHITTTT THIS IS SO DAMN GOOD FUCK FUCK. He he carried me to my room so that he fuck me. Pushed me to the bed as laid with back as he carried my legs with his shoulders and penetred my hole with no mercy he fucked me like no body business AHHHH AHHHH FUCK ME BABYYYY AHHH FUCK ME HARDER HARDER MORE HARDER DAMN OMGGG I was getting cooked he was fucking me like he owned me his eyes were filled with fire to my surprise my hole adjusted quickly to his dick and started producing its own lube.

He crying DAMN SHITTTT your hole it so tight SHITTTT SHITTTT DAMN BABYYY. I slept on my stomach as he penetred by the back he went crazy as my ASS i was moving up and down while he was fucking me. I was seeing stars i was also fucking back were enjoying each other my hole couldn’t stop producing lube I was so damn wet my he grabbed my neck and penetred deep inside i moaned very loud I couldn’t hold myself FUCK FUCK FUCK AHHH AHHH AHHHH AHHHH FUCK ME BABYYYY IM ALL YOURS DAMN DAMN BABYYY DON’T STOP SATISFY ME HARDER PUNISH ME. He was fucking me shit I was getting fucked like wow this guy he know how to fuck. I went to doggy style as we fucked each other my Fat Ass was moving up and down i was twerking on his dick were moaning loud and crazy FUCK FUCK OH SHITTTT OH SHITTTT HARDER BABYYY TWERK FOR THIS DICK OMG OMG FUCK ME FUCK MEEEE I NEED TO FUCK THE HELL OUT DAMN GIVE IT TO ME HARDER FUCK ME OH SHITTTT FUCK ME. 

He laid on the bed I got on top of his dick and went up and down I was moving my fat Ass like up and down. He thighs were shaking CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP THE SOUND OF MY ASS HITTING HIS DICK CLAPP CLAPP AHHHH AHHHH AHHHH SHITTTT SHITTTT SHITTTT. The bed the was wet because of my lube and sweat. I started cumming hard on his chest I couldn’t stop spraying cumming i changed positions to my Ass looking at his face he crying DAMN SHITTTT SHITTTT HARDER SEXY OMG OMG SHITTTT BABYYY I gave it my all. I felt sorry for my bed i was so horny to point where I could do more dicks if they were there I fucked his dick with Fat Ass he couldn’t hold it anymore as he cummed loudly DAMN BABYYY IM CUMMING SHITTTT IM CUMMING AS he shot a huge load in my Ass to my surprise his dick was still standing. I got up and went to the bathroom and cleanup. I came back to him and kissed him passionately as I stroked his dick. I started twerking for his as took videos and he told that I’m gonna be his sex slave forever I didn’t mind because his dick my nice after all.

I went to my grandma’s drawer I picked the sexiest thong and i oiled up my Ass and went to give him the show he took videos. We fucked again this time it was more rough. I couldn’t stop cumming. We fucked until morning. He left so early in the morning. Because he had work. I couldn’t get mind off the sex we had i couldn’t wait for him to come back. He texted me he has surprise for me I should put on one of my sexy fits. I put on my see through tight with no panties as I waited for him I heard a knock i went to open it was my grandma pastor i welcomed him in I was asking myself what was he doing here he told me to sit down and showed me the video as I was getting fucked by the guy.

He started by taking off his clothes he was wearing a thong he had a very nice fat Ass he dick my huge than my neighbor he started recording as he grabbed my Ass and kissed me while kissing enters my grandma she was shocked to see the pastor on top of me the pastor didn’t stop he continued kissing me as my grandma took off her clothes she was left wearing G-string as she had very fat Ass bigger than mine she said to me i having i fuck this pastor every now and  then she played videos where she was getting fucked by all committees of pastor she was great fucker she slept with all the men the Area we started fucking with the pastor in her room I mustibated to grandma fucking the pastor she was so good at riding dicks plus she was so blessed with a big Ass. She rided the pastor like hell as he was moaning uncontrollable AHHHH AHHHH BABY DAMN DAMN YOU VERY GOOD AT THIS PAM PAM SOUND OF HER ASS HITTING THE PASTOR DICK.

I couldn’t believe that i was watching my Grandma getting fucked. Grandma came to started twerking her Ass i couldn’t believe my eyes She had a very sexy Fat Ass she was so thick I couldn’t hold myself I pushed her and started fucking her hole She was moaning heavily because I was fucking her like hell I even forgot that she is my grandma watching Ass move up and down while I fuck her we moaning loudly AHHH AHHHH FUCK ME BABYYYY AHHH DAMN SHITTTT OMGGG GIVE IT TO ME HARDER HARDER AND HARDER OMGGG THIS ASS IS NICE AND TIGHT. The pastor came behind me and stuffed his big and long dick in my hole fucked roughly the pleasure was unbelievably I felt things I never felt in my life the orgasm that I was feeling at that was on other level the breathing was higher we fucked for almost an hour with no rest the pastor was having the best time of his life fucking two big fat Ass same time. The pastor cummed harder on both of our fat Asses. He didn’t have enough strength to continue we really drained him.

My grandma took out some stuff in the drawer and made me sniff them in my nose I got so horny my dick went hard like hard as she asked me to fuck her. She took me another room in the basement when we got there was pictures of her sucking dicks of different men of her getting fucked by different men the room was filled with sex toys and different lubes and different sizes of dildos I couldn’t believe that my granny was a slut she was like a sex freak imagine getting fucked by the whole community even my stepfather fucked her with his friends. She pushed me to the oiling floor and started playing with dick and took 14 inch dildo as she lubed it and penetred my hole with it i was breathing heavily it was so huge I was screaming like hell OUCH OUCH OUCH FUCK THIS PAINFULL SHITTTT SHITTTT after few minutes my hole started adjusting to the dildo as I started fucking the dildo with my grandma sucking my dick. The door opened it was my neighbor with his 5 friends and Son I always heard crush on his Son.

They sniffed the stuff that granny gave them. They started fucking grandma like no body business fucking every hole in body she was taking all of their dicks like pro you could hear men moaning left and right FUCK FUCK FUCKKKK FUCKKKK DAMNNN SHITTTT SHITTTT BABYYY AHHHH AHHHH AHHHH SHITTTT FUCK BABYYY AHHHH OMGGG OMGGG. while the Son was fucking the hell out of me the room my was filled with loud moans the fucking my on other level they took changes with me and my grandma. 

I was surprised where does she get the energy to get fucked like this and she never gets tired it was like I was watching a pro.  We fucked for long hours with rest just rough sex and cum the Son couldn’t let me go fucked me like hell he was hungry for my Ass i came on top him and he was shaking as twerked on top of his body he couldn’t believe his eyes he moaning heavily AHHH FUCK BABYYY AHHHH BABY SHITTTT SHITTTT HARDER SEXY TWERK ON MY DICK as he grabbed both my fat Ass and fucked me we both enjoy each other my eyes were rolling inside out he didn’t wanna stop he wanted me for himself we fucked each as kissing passionately we were making love to each other while watching my grandma get punished by 5 different men she was handling them like nothing i couldn’t believe my eyes. Me and the Son we moved to my room as we continued to make love to each we kissed as he continued to barefuck me while kissing and teasing my neck we fucked like lovers. We moaning heavily AHHH BABYYY FUCK BABYYY AHHHH AHHHH AHHHH AHHHHH MAKE LOVE TO ME IM ALL YOURS. We fucked on the floor and on the bed all over the room he cumming and continue fucking me he couldn’t stop he dick was hard all the time.

He cried OMG SHITTTT IM CUMMING FUCK DAMN BABYYY DAMNNN AS SHOT HUGE LOAD IN MY ASS. The sperms were so thick and juicy I never seen so huge sperms like this before we laid in my bed naked. While continue to kiss as I turned on the tv I saw my grandma getting sprayed on by cumming as she swallowed everydrop. She drained every drop on those dicks as she stood up and started clapping her Ass up and down as I watched and stroked our dicks as she clapped her Ass up and down it was so huge and wet. We cummed While stroking to her Ass FUCK FUCK GRANDMA FUCK GRANNY FUCK FUCK AS CUMMING ON EACH OTHER. We were all tired from the fucking session and draining of cum. The 5 friends and son left. I was left with grandma as we watched the videos of us getting fucked like the sluts we are. Grandma stood up and went to her room she came back wearing a purple thong with black sexy lingerie and started twerking and clapping as I took videos as she said she waiting for someone special. I heard knock she told me that I must go and watch everything in her room i went as she opened the door and took the person to the basement.

I couldn’t believe my eyes it was my stepfather he took off his trouser he was packing huge veiny dick it was so long about 12 to 13 inches the biggest i saw so far but grandma suck it like it’s nothing she was fucking him like no body business he moaning loudly HMMM HMMMM FUCK FUCK FUCKK DAMN SHITTTT SHITTTT.  She was finishing him he was moaning uncontrollable every second he DON’T STOP GRANDMA PLEASE DON’T STOP as she fucked him. My grandma was definitely master in bed she was monster dammit they way she handle dicks it was unbelievable especially for her age. As I was busy mustibating and stroking them as they fucked he started cumming all over the room HMMM FUCK HMMM FUCK the sound of him cumming. They finished and stepfather left. Grandma came to the room to cleanup she asked me to come shower with her as rub soap all over her body and fucked her hard in the shower she was moaning heavily my dick seem to like my grandma more was fucking her faster and hard. She couldn’t believe her eyes was so horny I fucked the hell out of her I cummed and continue she was moaning heavily and loud because was rough with her grabbing her by the neck and spanking her Ass hard she was shaking as strongly fucked HER AHHH AHHH AHHHH DAMN DAMN SHITTTT SHITTTT HARDER DAMN OMGGG GIVE IT TO ME YOUNG MEN we fucked for almost 2 hours as shot huge cum and we left the shower straight to bed.

We slept there naked for hours as we were tired didn’t know what to expect tommorrow. We woke up and late in the afternoon as we made food. I recieved text from my neighbors Son asking if he could see me today I agreed. Grandma left to see her friends in the city and the Son arrived he didn’t waste time and started fucking me with time to waste fucked me in the couch he roughly penetred me and choking me and spanking my Ass hard I couldn’t stop cumming from the rough sex I was getting he was even spitting inside my mouth putting his fingers inside my mouth pinching my nipples he was rough. I was wearing black thong was grabbing me by it fucking the hell out of me I was crying for mercy he made sure I felt pain we fucked for long hours until I told him to stop he didn’t he continued fucking as I laid helplessly. He cummed all over my body and then he left.

To be continued as I was fucked by the whole football team 

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“I finished early. Waiting outside.” 

The text message is very simple. My eyes linger on it anyway, for no special reason.

Another mind-numbing day at the library. I can’t complain about the job being hard because it isn’t. What I do want to complain about is how unproductive I have been for a while now. Doom scrolling at work just as much as at home was proving very detrimental to my psyche. Hell, I haven’t opened a book in ages, even though several thick, dusty ones have been seductively posing on the high shelves, the ones with hard, ridged covers and old-time paper. My work, which was the least important part of this situation, I’m also pushing back for no reason. I know I’ll do the monthly report before the 30th, but tomorrow will always look more inviting.

“Are you done? Or do I come up?” comes the second text.

To make matters worse, the weather has been unfortunately cozy for the past two weeks as well. The mild contrast between the chilly breeze and the low-powered heater creates a perfect environment to cocoon yourself in layers of clothing and never move an inch till your muscles atrophy. The tap tap tap of sporadic raindrops also play a part, lulling me to sleep, to hibernate, the rest of the world (read: my job) be damned. Alden always jokes that my love for sleep, along with my endless appetite for salmon and berries, is because I’m actually a bear. He repeats that joke a number of times that exceeds the endearing limit.

“TEEEEEEDDDDDDDD” A third, demanding text. I really wish Alden would let me turn the read receipts back off. They’re an unfair handicap.

With eyes unable to withstand their own weight, I’m just about ready to shut down. Even with 10 minutes left before I can walk past Admin without getting written up, it’s still a struggle to keep them open. The vision of near freedom keeps me going, but the effort that was waiting for me at the entrance leaves me prematurely exhausted. Not that Alden is high maintenance. I just need more energy and willpower than usual to do anything right now.

The phone starts vibrating as Alden calls me, not waiting for a message back. I refuse the call and type back.

“be there in 5m.”

I get up and start closing shop. The 16-year-old girl touring the shelves in the back like she’s on a holy pilgrimage is surprised that we close at 5. It was her first time here, so I’m supposed to explain to her that the Ontario Megan Fitch Recreational Center is technically a subsidiary of the government and so follows the schedule of public services. Furthermore, while I personally love the idea of a night library, 5 p.m. is a perfectly late time to close shop, so people don’t need to complain about this every time.

I don’t have the energy for all that, though, so I just give her a shrug after which she makes a face and leaves. With the windows and doors checked and the light finally off, I put on my winter armor – a black puffer jacket, wool fingerless gloves, and the red chullo Alden’s mom made me last Christmas – before finally stepping out.

*****

“TEDDDDYYYY!”

Alden, who was chatting with the security guard like they were out for drinks, beams when he sees me. I’m barely able to scan his cute, furry face before being pulled into a bear hug on the spot, his thick, wooly scarf suffocating me.

Whatever mental hoops I was jumping through 5 minutes ago are blown away as Alden’s scent, sweat and dust, engulfs my senses. I lean into the hug, burying myself in his huge frame and trying not to act too lovey-dovey in front of the guard. I hate how much I like this.

“So this is the famous Al I keep hearing about!” Hank, the guard, exclaims, referencing a one-off mention of Alden I slipped ages ago, before dropping his voice and smirking at me. “You two should do it all the time while you still got it.”

I give a practiced, but still forced, smile while thanking God there’s no one else around. Hank’s pervy smile does not suit his grandpa wrinkles, but I know old people are always real freaks underneath that warm and caring crap.

“Every day, all day, till the buffalo poops!” Alden answers without missing a beat, slapping my back with pride, and I have to restrain myself from burying my face in my hands as the other two men laugh.

Hank’s obnoxious snickering follows us as we leave the building into the bustling street and start walking home. The cold, crisp air helps wake me a bit from my funk, and having Alden marching next to me in his light brown overcoat and winter cap (as opposed to his chullo because he lost that. Again.) is better than walking home alone.

“Relaaaax… he’s obviously just bored.” Alden says in response to my tired face, tucking the golden locks of hair that chaotically escape his cap and giving me a quick peck on the forehead.

“I’m relaxed. Just tired. And no. By tomorrow, everyone in the center will know my boyfriend and I are fucking like rabbits.”

I’m not really relaxed, and I don’t plan on being so till I get home and shower and get comfortable next to the heater, but having Alden next to me right now makes me loosen up against my will.

“He won’t just tell the-“

“He WILL just tell them. Everyone in there is over 50 with nothing to do most of the day except gossip. They know more about each other’s medical histories than I know about my mom.”

“Well, that comparison just doesn’t work for y-“

“Shut up,” I exhale and nudge Alden to the side with my hip. “Also, carry me. I don’t wanna walk home.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Alden replies with renewed enthusiasm, puts his arms around my waist immediately, and starts tugging with exaggerated force.

“Stop. STOP. IT WAS A JOKE. STOP!” I bang uselessly on his taller back as Alden tries and fails to lift my struggling self up.

When he eventually lets go, I complain while fixing my clothes. “What’s up with you today?”

“I’m just happy to be alive. I’m just~ Happpyy~ to bee~~~ alIVEEE~~” Alden sings while doing ridiculous poses.

“You’re not a himbo, stop acting like one. Also, people are watching.”

“Come on! It’s funn~~ gonna be your himbooo~~~” Alden continues his circus show, bumping me to the side with each line.

It’s so stupid, I can’t help but laugh. And to think I was the more emotional one when we first got together.

Alden snakes his hands around my shoulders and hugs me from the back as he rocks on the sidewalk. Maneuvering the crowded sidewalk so we won’t topple anyone over, I grab his hands and join his impromptu dance and song.

“I wannaaaa~~~ beee~~ yourrr himboooo~~~” We sing together in a tune known but only to God, getting strong looks from everyone we almost crash into.

After a couple of minutes, the noise dies down, and then we continue the way home in silence.

*****

The light spills into the dark apartment from the main door as we shuffle inside. I flick the light switch without looking, then get down and start undoing my ranger boots. Alden kicks off his sneakers and falls (with caution) face-first to the floor next to me.

“Get up. The floor is dirty, plus you’ll catch a cold.”

Alden doesn’t move an inch.

With the one free foot, I kick him lightly. “Get up.”

“Nu-uh!” Alden responds with a muted voice.

“What happened to all the energy from 30 minutes ago?”

“Gone. I sleep now.”

A quick swipe of my fingers across Alden’s soles causes my boyfriend to launch from his lying position into a jumping jack with a yell.

“Sleep in bed. And don’t you dare lie down without changing.”

“Man, fuck you!” Alden protests as he walks like a zombie towards our room.

I sigh and finish taking off my boots, then navigate through the half-messy hallways after Alden. I have made peace with the casual mess we always have. The apartment is tiny, a simple hallway leading into a big bedroom which connects to a bathroom and kitchen on either side, and we have lots of stuff. It just happens, and I can’t keep tidying up every 2 hours.

Inside the bedroom, Alden was already passed out on the bed, which occupied a good chunk of it, without him even taking off his jacket. Considering the tickle option again, I give it up quickly. I’ll change the sheets later, and the laundry basket is full, too. Instead, I slump down on Alden’s back. The big guy gives out a muffled whimper but displays no reaction otherwise. The body under me is insanely fuckable, with the squished meaty build folding into me with feverish heat, but all I can think about is how comfortable of a pillow Alden’s ass makes at that precise point. We stay like that for a bit.

“Get up and change already.”

“Get off me, then.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Get off. Getoff. Getoff.GetoffGetoffgetoffgetoff…” Alden started squirming under me.

I might be shorter than him, but I’m still heavy. Alden knows this better than anyone as he starts humping his ass between my crotch and the bed. All that registers in my brain is the lulling rhythm of the massage chair under me, until Alden starts pushing properly and flips me over to the side, before promptly sliding to the carpet floor.

“Get off the ground, you’ll catch a cold,” I say while staring at the ceiling.

“I just need 5 minutes,” Alden replies, already slipping under.

That’s the cue for me to properly get up. We can’t both fall asleep.

“Alden,” I hover over my boyfriend’s body, “I’m tired as is. Get up now, or I will get the water.”

The mention of our mutual technique stirs something in Alden, but he remains motionless and soundless all the same.

“Fine, have it your way.”

With a newfound strength, I get up to the bright, tiny bathroom, fill up the cup we use for holding toothbrushes with cold tap water, then make my way back.

“Last warning.”

By the looks of it, he seems half asleep at that point, but I still give him a minute to answer.

When he doesn’t, I pull back the scarf and spill a good chunk of the water down his back before retreating as he shoots up into the air, then lands back with an impact that will definitely get us complaints from Jerome tomorrow, if not today.

“I hate you so much right now!” He says as he forces his body to move against its will.

“I’ll try to pick the pieces of my broken heart later. At least, take off your coat and scarf before falling asleep.”

“Ughhhhhhhhh… FINE…..”

“I’m gonna take a shower,” I tell him as I start peeling off my own layers as lazily as possible.

The true iciness of the room hits me full force once my sweaty back is exposed. My body starts shaking right away, and I race towards the bathroom with a survival need, hoping the friction from my stocky build will get me there. I feel the rigid cold so deeply, it ends up going over my reaction threshold. My soles hurt slightly against the tub’s floor. I turn on the hot water, detach the shower head, and try to get as much heat as I can manage on as much of me as possible.

I hear the bathroom door open, after which comes the audible plop of Alden’s ass on the toilet seat. He takes his time, so that when I’m mostly done shampooing myself, the bath’s curtain is pulled away, and he stands there, naked and sleepy. His body, dusted with light, golden fur, is hunched over amicably and his sizable cock swings lazily between his legs. The smell of his sweat is way stronger now that he’s airing it out from every nook and cranny.

“I’m almost done. Gimme a minute.”

He stays still first, eyes half-lidded, then steps in and sits down, sending water everywhere.

“Oh, for the love of- ALDEN!”

I can’t do anything except groan at him while he relaxes like a dying wind-up toy.

“At least promise me you’ll wipe the bathroom down before we sleep.”

“Mhmmmm,” he lets out a weak mumble I know he won’t remember.

Another groan, then I finish washing the soap off my body, switch the water for an icy cold finish (at which, Alden gives a shocked squeal), turn off the water amidst objections from below, and step out into the now-wet bathroom.

“Hey, wait. Check my back. I think I hurt myself at work today,” he calls from the bottom of the tub.

“Ok.”

I finish patting myself as dry as you can get in a bathroom with 200% humidity, then tie the towel around my waist and open the curtain. Alden stands up and turns his back to me, and I immediately realize the problem.

“Your eczema seems to be acting up. Are’t you wearing the undershirt we got last time?”

“No? Didn’t you say you were gonna return it?”

“I did, but then he gave me a new one and another one as an apology. I told you.”

“Can’t remember. Also, Jesus, did you rob the guy?” Alden says as he turns around again and fires up the shower head, hot water this time, sending more water outside

I move out of the way of the incoming tide.

“No, I promised him we’ll come again cause you need other stuff.”

“Will we?”

“Fuck, no.”

“Hehehe, at least we got two shirts out of it. Lucky me.”

“Again, no. They’re cheap Chinese shit. I doubt they’ll even survive the washing machine.”

“Ah, shoot.”

I close the curtain, then pick up Alden’s glasses, which he left carelessly on his haphazardly discarded clothes, now wet, on the floor, and give them a quick wipe down before placing them on the mirror shelf, knowing full well they’ll fog up again in a minute.

“You wanna cook something? Cause I sure can’t be assed.”

“Na-ah,” comes his voice over the water noise. “Order from Gabe’s.”

“I don’t feel like greasy food. How about that little new shop on 9th? Sun Parade, was it? Do we still have the takeaway menu?”

“Whatever.” A nonchalant reply.

As I exit, warmth radiating off my skin clashes with the cold room, and I once again get the urge to jump into bed and just forget everything. But, I’m properly awake after the shower, and my quickly dwindling body heat means I am forced to quickly fish out an old, thick Christmas sweater. When my pajamas don’t turn up, I put my basketball shorts on, so my balls don’t freeze off.

The electric heater starts with its usual frightening spasm that causes some sparks to fly from the outlet. It’s probably dangerous, but as long as we don’t leave it on while we sleep, we’ll live. I crouch in front of it until it’s properly on and my bare knees burn a little, then get up and start tidying the room.

One by one, it quickly clears out. After cracking the window an inch to let the air flow a little, I bunch all the clothing in need of a wash, slipping into the bathroom to pick Alden’s, and put them in the basket for later. I almost leave before spinning back to the basket and fishing out our wallets and other poor leftovers.

The new clearance helps me find the takeaway menu, and I call it while standing next to the heater. In no mood to pick and choose, I basically grab his first recommendations. After that are the bed sheets. It’s a quick procedure, and I end up changing the pillow casings while I’m at it.

It may have been simple, but getting up the willpower to stop myself from sleeping at the front door was no joke. Finally, after a long, exhausting day, I dive into the clean, comfortable bed, basking in the heaven-born sensation of every muscle relaxing at once.

It couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes. I didn’t fall asleep, so I know it couldn’t, but my moment of zen is interrupted when the bathroom door opens and closes.

“One, two…”

I barely register the sound before he hauls his entire body weight onto me. For a second, I’m sure I’ll choke. But the pressure lets up as quickly as it comes, and I look up at an excited Alden, perched on top of me like a freshly dried dog. He smells of shampoo that doesn’t entirely cover his body’s sent.

“Do you WANT to catch a cold?” I give him a playful slap on the face. “Put something on.”

I try to cocoon myself in the covers again, but Alden’s mouth shoots into the crook of my neck, biting it and adding sound effects of his own.

“Warm me up~~~ babyyyy~~”

I twist the covers harder. “That’s what the heater’s for.”

“Well, I can’t shove a heater up my ass now, can I?”

That does it, and I unwind from the covers, spreading out under him while laughing.

“We can try!”

Alden grabs my shoulders and starts shaking me like a stuffed toy. “You’re trying to kill me? HELP! THIS MAN IS TRYING TO KILL ME! AAAA!”

“HAHAHAHH, ALRIGHT, alright. Calm down, jeez!”

I throw my hands around his neck and bring him in for a kiss. He’s warm as fuck, burning with heat radiating from more than the shower, from the taut muscles and the very blood coursing through him. The simple comfort of placing my lips on his flesh sends the blood not just to my dick, but to every part of me.

“HE’S UP! He’s up and out of his hibernation,” Alden announces to the ceiling.

I pull him back down, fisting the golden, hairy locks on either side of his head. I take my time tracing the features of his mouth with mine, going over the familiar ridges and bumps with gentle swipes. Alden lets me, occasionally lapping at my tongue when I slow down.

“Get under the covers.”

“Jeeez,” he complains, and I can practically hear the part he leaves out. “Okay, MOM!” He knows I hate it.

A quick body shuffle and accidental ball tug later, he’s safely under me, rubbing his pained testicles, with the covers pulled over us and hanging from my head. My sweater and shorts lay freshly discarded and entangled in the bed sheets.

Alden lies peacefully under me, his warm eyes looking up in anticipation. I lean in and kiss him again, pushing and pulling for a bit before I reposition my mouth on his neck.

“Teddy….”

A breathless whisper as I gently kiss along his neck. His hands sway at my side, unable to decide on how to rest. Meanwhile, I’m busy rubbing our cocks together, making them slip and slide both ways, while I go down my usual memorized route. From his golden mane to his meaty pecs and down his happy trail, the feel of him is nothing exciting, simply fulfilling, like playing with your own body. Alden gets fussy when I near his groin, so I know I’m doing it right. Instead of kissing that beautiful, pale cock of his, I steer around it, caressing his thighs and in between them, never touching his throbbing erection.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he laughs softly as his legs involuntarily try to squeeze my head with instinctual strength.

“I’ll do what I want, and you’ll like it.”

I kiss the tip of his cock, barely giving suction to the head before drawing back to make my statement clear.

He jerks under me, locks his legs around my head, and squeezes for real this time.

“Hey!”

A quick jab to his defenseless anus opens up his legs, and I go back up to meet him at eye level.

“If you’re so confident about this, how about you top, ha?”

His face breaks into a shy grin, and he gives me a peck.

“I’m sorryyyy~~”

“Good. Now that we sorted that out…”

I kiss him again, more sloppily this time. Our mouths mash together, clearly worked up at this point. One of my hands is cradling his head, enjoying the feeling of his soft, freshly-showered hair, while the other is on his cock, alternating between teasing the underside of his glans with my thumb and cupping and pulling at his balls. Alden raises his legs, showing that he’s prime and proper for the taking, and like with today’s work mood, any sex routines I think of pulling disappear at the luscious, inviting, handsome beast beneath me.

I back up, admiring the view of Alden’s exposed hole, pink and slightly trembling, before locking back into him, our bodies joining like old gears, rough but grinding effortlessly. He meets my weight with his own bucking, trying to jump off the bed as he winks his hole at me. I can only see his cute, somber face, but I know it’s basically trying to grab my cock down there. I spit into my hand (which Alden giggles at) and rub my cock with it, knowing it won’t take more after he just got ready. My own, painful hard-on knocks on his entrance, and I rest my forehead against his as it starts prying into him, having its way home memorized.

Another breathless whisper. I don’t catch what he says this time, but the way his trimmed nails dig into my back, blunt but strong, tell me all I need to know. With practiced ease, I bottom out in him, and he holds me tight with his arms and legs. He’s breathing into my ear. It’s not labored, but a bit erratic.

“Fuck me.” There’s craving in his voice. He needs to get off.

“Hold me tight,” I say, and he does.

The first couple of strokes are slow and sensual as I knock into him, massaging his insides with my cock. His own guts tense and relax in tandem, a glorious show of that hidden strength of his. Our bodies meld together as I rev up my engine and start hammering it in, paced at first, then free for all. Each thrust knocks a little wind out of him, and his gasps and moans only fuel my drive, making me prod his insides more accurately to get to hear his lovely voice get louder and louder.

We switch between kissing and groaning as my pelvis crashes into his ass cheeks and my balls slap him silly, hurting me a bit but ultimately adding to the pleasure. He manages to let out some ‘Ted’s here and there, which I respond to with muted grunts as I draw my full length out until only the head remains, kissing his insides and desperate lips, which grip it like a lifeline. The next fuck comes with a better angle, like I’m digging out a comfortable spot for me inside me, and he spreads his legs further, desperately trying to get me to scratch his most intimate spots.

“Fuck. Teddy. I wanna cum!”

He practically yells the words as I pound him into the sagging mattress, and I realize his cock is unattended to. I bring my fingers, index and middle, to his mouth, and he starts sucking without being told to. His eyes are on me as his mouth slobbers all over them, asking me to hurry up. I take my fingers out and find his mouth again, prying it open and stuffing him forcibly with my tongue. He moans loudly into my mouth, his head dancing with each spasm. My hand finds his cock, flapping and leaking all over the place between us, and starts jerking it in tandem with the fucking. I hold my hand still as his rocking body jerks itself with it, the peculiar rhythm proving way too effective.

It takes less than a couple of minutes for Alden to explode in my hand, and his seed splatters everywhere, over his guts and on my body hair and onto the bed. He must’ve been really pent up because he keeps shooting for a bit, his agitated cock struggling to spew as much of its milk as it can. Alden isn’t quite about it either, yelling out as he lets his body flex to its limits with pleasure. Before I can think, my hand shoots out to cover his mouth.

“Sh..Sh..Sh…. Ride it out. Ride it out,” I walk him through his orgasm. “No need to let the neighbors know. Again.”

He’s half-yelling, half-laughing at the situation, but in response to my hold, he clamps down on my dick. Not in the usual ‘oh, his hole is squeezing me’ type of way, but in ‘oh, he’s gonna fucking rip it off’ way. Needless to say, the intensity of his anal muscles and upwards grinding coaxes the load out of me, and I surrender myself as I scream into the space between his shoulder and the pillow. My ruts power through my first two pumps, then rigidly settle inside him, our flesh melding from the pressure as I paint his guts pure white.

The sex saps whatever energy I had at the bottom of my tank, and I find myself rolling over, ready to fall asleep. I can’t, obviously, because I’m starving and need to unplug the heater for starters, but it’s good to enter that ephemeral world between lucidity and sleep, even if it’s for a second. Alden curls up into a ball in his spot, experiencing the same fatigue as I. I want to nudge him so that at least one of us can answer the door when the delivery guy arrives, but I can’t be bothered. The same way I couldn’t be bothered about getting a towel before we started, so I won’t have to change the sheets again. The same way I couldn’t be bothered about putting up appearances in front of Alden when I got off work.

With the momentary heat of passion giving way to the frigid cold, I pull myself into a sitting position on the bed with the pillows behind me, fish out the sweater from next to the bed, scooch over to Alden to join our body heat, and pull the cover over us properly. Reverting to before Alden revved my engine, I open my phone and start scrolling through tired eyes while he drifts to sleep next to me.

I didn’t expect them to, but the combination of fatigue and hunger, coupled with this morning’s blues, come back up the more I scroll, and I feel a cold, unfavorable heat spark all over me. Throwing the phone to the side, I sink into the pillow at an uncomfortable angle, but all I can do is sigh from somewhere rather deep as I cover my face with my hands.

“..at’s wrong?”

Alden is half-concscious, but the question is aware.

“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Alden stirs, then straightens up and rubs his eyes awake.

“Seriously, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you up when the food arrives.”

“You said it’s nothing,” Alden says, still rubbing, “which is Ted speak for something.”

“I’m upset because the food is late, that’s all.”

“Come on, Teddy.” He reaches around and pulls me to his chest. “You seemed upset after work, too. Is it something at the center?”

I relax into his chest.

“No, no, at all. The center is great.”

“Even Hank?”

“Especially Hank.”

Alden chuckles. He doesn’t ask anything.

“It’ just,” I start after a pause, “I was feeling down. That’s all.”

“Down like…?”

“Like ‘my life isn’t headed anywhere’ down, but not that catastrophic. Yet.”

It feels revolting saying it out loud, but I’m not gonna lie to Alden.

There’s a pause.

“Do you miss home?” Alden asks, his voice betraying the emotions underneath.

“No, it’s a ‘me’ thing, not a location thing.”

He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his muscles unclench under me.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, it isn’t about the move.” I raise my head to look at him. He grins sheepishly.

“Had to ask.”

“I told you to stop asking,” I say, and kiss the tip of his nose before settling back.

“It’s like… remember those projects I did for the school back home? The little computer games for the kids? The Meals on Wheels program?”

“Aha.”

“Well. Obviously, I enjoyed doing them, but they were always- they always felt like stopgap measures. Like I’m filling time with something other than what needs to be done.”

“And after coming here,” I continued, “Without them, I have to face that feeling again.”

“What would you have liked to do?”

“Do you know the last time I picked up a book? The last time I tried to start any project whatsoever?”

“Not really. But, I guess, a long time?”

“Super long time.”

*dingggg*.

I feel like I wanna barf. The regret from letting emotions spill is already bubbling, but I force it down by hugging Alden harder.

“Well… wanna hear my take?”

“Mhmm.”

“You said you were feeling down,” Alden starts explaining, and I swear I can see him adjust fictional glasses over his nose with a smug look, “so all we need to do is get you back up!”

“I’m listening. But not for long.”

“Well, nothing can go up, can go anywhere really, without energy, fuel. And so, all we need to do is fuel up with some good food, which should be at the door rightttttt…”

Alden stretches the last word, then points at the door confidently and declares, “NOW!”

There’s a knock on our door as the delivery guy finally finds our apartment.

“What do you think? Should I go public with my psychic powers?”

I laugh against my will as I get up. “I heard the elevator ding too, dimwit.”

The kiss I give him is a proper one this time. A date kiss. It’s really comforting to kiss Alden. Even when he’s dirty from work.

I fish out the shorts once again and go to get the food.

“Looks hot and steamy,” Alden says when he joins me on the bench behind the kitchen table, the fluorescent light giving the whole spot the feel of a governmental purgatory. He has my pajamas on (the ones I was searching for), along with a vest over nothing. “What did you order?”

“I wasn’t sure what the guy said, but it says here it’s a ‘Sun Combo’.”

“Fuck does that mean?”

“Let’s see. Also, wear something better. You’ll get a cold like that,” I say for the 100th time.

He ignores my complaint and slides next to me, rubbing his hands with anticipation while I unpack the containers. To my surprise, the food turns out to be a lot for what we paid. The big star is the big deli bowl filled with chicken soup. The broth is almost shining in stark contrast to its muted surroundings as smoke rises cozily along with a sickeningly delicious smell. There are big chunks of chicken and vegetables in it, all mushy to the touch. The other two packages are some yogurt stew, I assume. It has baked, meat dumplings in it and pieces of meat that also fell apart when you poke them, with steaming rice on the side, topped with a bit of fried nuts and herbs.

“Holy shit. Praise be to the Sun!” Alden swallows back his saliva, and I have to take care not to let mine drool as the fountains in my mouth open to full blast.

The soup is too hot so I start with the stew. The first bite is euphoric. The stew, tangy and fat, sends goosebumps inside my mouth. I practically groan at how good it feels to my taste buds.

“Fuck. Hunger is a son of a bitch.” I manage to say after fully stuffing my mouth again.

“Dude. Try the soup, it’s got like chili peppers in it or something!” Alden snatches the food from my hand and replaces it with the small bowl he poured himself.

True to his word, the soup, tasting of that wonderful home-stewed experience, prickles my tongue ever so slightly in impossibly balanced heat.

“I’m never cooking again, my God…”

“Is it an Armenian or Romanian restaurant again?” Alden asks in between soup inhales.

“I don’t know. We’ll check later. All I know is that I’m going over there and giving the chef a blowjob.”

“Not if I beat you to it!”

*****

The food barely survives 10 minutes. It was so plate-licking delicious, Alden actually did it to collect as much of the stew as he can, and got a small cut on his tongue as a reward.

“It’th not funny,” he complains while rubbing his tongue all over his mouth.

I’m trying to hold in my giggles as much as I can but it proves too much of a challenge. “No, no, yeah. Totally!”

“Feeling betther now?” He asks after a pause.

His smile is so disarming, I think of pulling his cheeks until they hurt, but I just shake my head.

“Yeah,” I lean on his shoulder, “Much better.”

“Thold you you were thust hungry.”

“Yeah, you did,” I concede, “It was just a mood, sorry.”

“No apolothies, Tethy.”

“Thanks, Alden.”

I kiss him on the cheek, ruffling against his hair.

“Thank God! I thought I’ll hath to drive up north a get another boxth of athorted berrith!”

“No, you don’t ‘hath’ to. We still have a bunch from last time. And you still haven’t took the car to the mechanic, anyways.”

“I promith. Thomorrow!”

“Tomorrow was last Wednesday. You’re not driving it anywhere, anyways. I’ll take it myself. Glenda can keep the center from blowing up for 1 hour before I arrive.”

Alden’s index swirls around the back of my hand on the table.

“So, remember that nature reserve next to the berry farm?” I start.

“Yeth?”

“So I was thinking-“

“Oh, God!”

“Shut up. So, I was thinking…”

“…..”

“….”

“…”

“..”

“.”

END

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This story is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in it are 18+ of age.

As usual, I’m very happy to receive any and all feedback, whether it’s about the writing or direction of the story, other works you wanna see, or just chat in general. Thank you for reading!

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In my company, I had a reputation as the mediator, although some staff members jokingly call me the beast tamer. I have a way of making furious clients forget why they were angry in the first place. Bring me the worst case, the loudest complainer, the one everyone swore was impossible… and I’d walk them out smiling, shaking my hand, convinced they’d gotten justice.

It wasn’t magic. It was presence. The lean-cut body in a tailored suit, the friendly face, the voice that could pivot from firm to coaxing, the subtle innuendo that melted tension like heat on ice.

An overall, quiet confidence. I will use every tool at my disposal to ensure the client leaves happier. 

So when I heard a new client was coming in, so impossible “even I” might not be able to fix this situation, my only reaction was a quiet thrill. I love challenges. And I never found one too big

I was skimming emails when Tyler, my assistant, buzzed in.

“Sir… he’s here.” There was a wobble in his voice, a note of concern. “I’d be careful not to make him wait too long.” Although I trusted Tyler’s instinct, I knew I was ready for whatever was coming. Tyler worked for me for a while, so he knew the game and was very professional about all situations. He was also a walking distraction, slim, pretty, and a bubble-assed that was always poured into a suit that did nothing to hide it. I kept him because he was excellent at his job, but also because watching him walk out of my office was sometimes the highlight of my morning.

“Send him in then,” I said.

When the doorway darkened, I understood the tremor in Tyler’s voice.

The client filled the door frame. Not metaphorically—literally. Broad. Thick. Brutal.The kind of presence that felt like a shadow swallowing the light.

Unlike my regular client, who shows up in power suits, he was all in black, Black boots, black jeans, black shirt, black leather.  His face was carved hard, flushed with anger. Light-brown eyes locked on me like I was prey stepping into his territory. He didn’t wait for permission; he grabbed a chair, dragged it back, and straddled it—legs wide, shoulders spreading even wider. It was clear he knew how to command the space. 

Assessing the situation, trying to regain some power in space, that’s when I saw it. His crotch. It strained the fabric of his pants with a bulge so massive it looked almost unreal. For a second, I wondered if it was padded—until I saw the shape. The outline. The weight of it.

He caught me looking. He didn’t flinch, didn’t smirk, just stared, daring me to react. 

Trying to regain my focus, I straightened my tie, leaned back, and met his gaze head-on. There was no doubt he was a force, a kind of man who walked into a room and made everyone else feel small. He knew he had an intimidating aura about him and used it to his advantage, trying to control the space between us. 

I am used to this kind of power play. Most clients try it with me. They came in angry, puffing themselves up, expecting I’d fold under the heat. I never did. I’d built a career taming men exactly like him, breaking their tempers down and turning fury into cooperation. That is why I was known as the beast tamer. 

I leaned back in my chair, calm, my confidence a weapon.  “What can I do for you today?”

He unloaded everything—every issue, every failure on our part, every reason he had to be livid. And the thing was… he was right. We had screwed him over. So I got to work. I laid out solutions, concessions, and fixes. Every time I gave him something, the tension in his shoulders eased. The mountain in front of me became a little less jagged.

But like every negotiation, we hit the wall, the one demand that was too much.

As he realized I was unlikely to budge, he leaned back, eyes dark and challenging. “Well… this is going to be a problem. How are you going to fix this? What can I get instead?”

That word—instead—always meant trouble. Always meant something not reasonable, something unspoken. My heart beat a little harder. I tried to reason with him, pushing logic, reminding him how much he was already getting, but I could see the shift in his posture, the tightening of his jaw, the possibility of the deal blowing apart.

And then I made the mistake of looking down.

That obscene bulge in his pants. Thick, heavy, packed as if the denim was barely holding him in. I stared for half a second too long. When I looked up, he was watching me with the slow, predatory smile of a man who finally saw the weak spot in my armour.

“Looks like we might have another arrangement on the table,” he said.

He stood up. I felt small for the second time today. Up close, he was massive. His broad shoulders stretching his leather jacket, his powerful chest straining his shirt, his thighs like tree trunks filling those dark jeans. He rounded the desk, boots thudding on the floor. I moved my chair aside to accommodate him in my space without even thinking. He leaned on the edge of the desk, one leg crossing over the other. His jacket fell open, revealing a T-shirt pulled tight across enormous pecs, his nipples pushing boldly against the fabric. He settled there casually, but there was nothing casual about the dominance in his stance.

The balance of power had shifted. He knew it. So did I.

I swallowed, trying to sound composed. “What are you proposing? What would… resolve this for you?”

Before answering, his eyes flicked to the small cedar humidor on the desk. He reached over to retrieve it, opened it without permission, and scanned the cigars like he was inspecting weapons.

“A man of taste,” he rumbled.

He picked a thick, heavy cigar from my case—a bold ring gauge, and clipped the end off cleanly. He took the cigar and slowly and sensually rolled the thick stick between his lips. Then he reached for my torch lighter like it already belonged to him.  When the flame hissed to life, and he brought it to the cigar, I managed a weak, useless protest. “You can’t smoke in here.” He turned his head slightly, took the first long, steady draw, and exhaled a slow, heavy plume of smoke, thick, confident, unapologetic.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to negotiate that anymore.”

This power play he was running was almost textbook—invading my space, using that massive frame to intimidate, taking the alpha stance, wielding the cigar like a dominance prop. I saw through it, and so I should’ve been immune. But it worked. It worked on me perfectly.

He slowly uncrossed his legs. Spread them, highlighting the obscene mound between his thighs like it was negotiation collateral. My gaze dropped before I could even think to stop it. He caught the flicker of my eyes instantly.

That’s when the game changed.  His hand reached, slow and certain, the way a man does when he already knows the outcome. Fingers wrapped around my wrist, strong and possessive, guiding me, he pressed my hand down onto him, firm, deliberate, letting me feel every inch of him through the denim.

I felt everything. Heat. Weight. Size. A monster trying to break free. My breath hitched audibly.

Chest swelling, eyes locked on mine like he was claiming something. The room filled with the scent of cedar, leather, and smoke. It hit me like a drug. He tilted the cigar away and spoke with quiet command. “Well? What are you waiting for? You know what needs to happen next for me to walk out here a happy man.”

There was no hesitation. I knew the negotiation was over.  I unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking in the quiet room. I hastily undid his top button and then slowly pulled down the fly. His jeans parted, revealing a thick, white jockstrap stretched to its limit. 

The pouch was swollen, full, obscene. Up close, there was no mistaking it.

No padding.
No enhancement.
Just a man built to ruin others.

I hooked my fingers under the waistband of his jockstrap and peeled it down slowly, dragging the fabric inch by inch until it slipped past the thick curve straining beneath it.
When it finally cleared, I reached inside, took hold of him, and freed him from the tight confinement—letting everything drop heavy over the front of his open jeans.

That’s when I really saw him. All of him.

His cock hung long and thick, even in semi semi-soft state. The weight of it was undeniable, swinging low over a pair of massive, full balls that looked almost too big for any man to carry. The whole package was warm, heavy in my hand, the skin slightly damp from heat and sweat—an obscene, masculine display of size and power.

I froze for a moment, staring, letting the reality of him settle in my mind. It wasn’t just impressive. It was intimidating.  And I felt my breath catch as I realised just how much I’d unleashed.

Jesus.

Up close, he was overwhelming.

Then instinct took over. I buried my face in his pubic hair, inhaling deep, taking the scent of him in. Raw, masculine, intimidating. It filled my lungs. His hand settled lightly on the back of my head, just enough pressure to remind me who was in control.

With a quiet grunt of approval from him, I lowered my mouth to his cock. It was still soft, but thick enough to stretch my lips as I sucked him in. I felt it pulse, felt it swell, felt the first signs of it hardening on my tongue. Even half-hard, it was already a challenge. Warm and weighty, it was growing thicker with every second.

Wanting to taste more of him, I let his cock slip from my mouth and moved down to his balls. Up this close, they were massive—dense, overfilled, almost too big for my mouth to handle. I tried to take both at once, but there was no way I could comfortably do it, so I took them one at a time. I sucked on his testicle, taking it deep into my mouth, rolling it gently with my tongue, coating every inch of it in spit. His skin was warm, tight, and sensitive, and I explored every contour, every groove, every firm muscle underneath. His moans made it clear, he was a man who liked the attention to his balls. 

They filled my mouth to the point of stretching my jaw, and I moaned softly around him, lost in the taste of him—leather, sweat, heat, and pure male.

I was lost in the moment, in a blissed-out haze, worshipping this beast of a man. They were heavy, musky, perfect, and I sucked on them like they were ambrosia. Every inch of him tasted like raw, unfiltered masculinity. When I looked up, he was watching me through a haze of smoke, cigar clenched between his lips, exhaling slowly and confidently. The man was dripping testosterone.

This wasn’t a negotiation anymore. I’d surrendered. Whatever he wanted, it was his.

He caught the way I looked up at him. He saw the hunger, desperation; he knew he already owned me. He grinned around his cigar. His hips shifted, presenting himself fully. Then he took his semi-hard cock and slapped it across my face as I continued to suck on his balls. I moaned into his balls, taking them deep into my mouth, tongue working it slowly. Each smack was deliberate, his thick meat bouncing off my cheek, my lips, my jaw. The weight of him, the sound of it, only made me hungrier. He saw exactly what I wanted. He rewarded me by guiding his cock to my lips. I opened wide, eager, begging without words.

With one sharp thrust, he rammed his cock straight down my throat. My mouth was already stretched from his massive balls, but his cock, now fully erect, was even thicker, longer, and heavier. A true monster. No man should have been built like this. 

He grabbed the back of my head with one huge hand and began to fuck my throat with long, brutal strokes that made saliva spill from my mouth and drip down my chest. He pushed harder, deeper, using me like a hole that was only meant for him. My mind dissolved. My thoughts blurred. I was floating in that dazed, euphoric state.

As he took long inhales of his cigar, He shoved his cock deeper down my throat

And deeper.

And deeper.

My throat opened for him as it belonged to him. I could have done this for hours. 

Then—the phone rang.

The sudden sound jolted both of us. I choked back around his cock as he paused, annoyed. I was thinking the same thing: Fuck. What now?

He glanced at the caller ID. “It’s Tyler,” he said. My assistant.

I reluctantly pulled his cock from my mouth, a long string of drool dangling from my lip to the head of his dick. I wiped nothing away. He watched me, amused, cigar smoke curling around his grin. I answered, voice shaky, breathless.

“Tyler?”

“Sir… I… uh… smelled cigar smoke. Just wanted to check if everything’s okay.”

My eyes lifted to the man towering over me—his cock mere inches from my face, slick with spit, his heavy balls resting against my chin. The cigar hanging between his fingers, smoke curling around his grin, said everything.

“It’s fine,” I said, forcing calm. “Everything’s… better than okay. The client decided a cigar would help with negotiations. I agreed. You can just ignore it.”

I could practically hear Tyler’s confusion—and the edge of jealousy in his voice. He’d only ever smelled cigar smoke in my office after a deal was closed, when victory meant a shared celebration, a signal he could step in and help me unwind. This time, the roles were reversed. This time, I was the one orchestrating the celebration.

I could hear the disappointment in his tone, the silent acknowledgment of a missed opportunity. That’s when the idea hit me—the perfect way to turn up the heat and seal this deal permanently.

Keeping my voice steady, even with the client’s cock still slick against my lips, I said, “Actually, Tyler… come in. I might need some help finishing the final steps of this negotiation.”

I could hear the eagerness in his voice instantly.  “Yes, sir. I’ll be right there.”

The client paused mid-thrust, cigar between his teeth, giving me a look like, What the fuck are you planning?

 I didn’t bother to explain. I just went right back to swallowing his cock, mouth stretched wide and drooling.  He leaned into it, understanding that whatever I had planned, he’d probably enjoy it.

Then Tyler walked in.

The shock on his face was priceless — his boss on his knees, throat full of the client’s massive cock, spit running down my chin. I looked up at Tyler with a filthy, knowing smile, then went right back to devouring the client’s cock, letting him hear every wet, hungry sound. Tyler always saw me in control, always obeyed me. Seeing me overpowered, used, dominated… it stunned him.

His gaze turned to the client, the giant, dressed head-to-toe in black leather, leaning casually against my desk, smoking a cigar like he owned the building. Tyler just stood there staring at the size of the man — the width of his chest, the thickness of his thighs, the sheer mass of his cock disappearing into my mouth. 

I pulled off the cock with a wet pop and looked up at him.
“Come in, Tyler. Shut the door.”

He obeyed instantly, pausing only for a heartbeat as he tried to figure out what he was meant to do.  “Turn around,” I instructed.

He did, and the client’s smirk curled around his cigar, eyes dark and hungry. He immediately recognised the view before him—and it was clear he wanted more than just my mouth. Tyler was skinny, but his ass was tight, round, perfect, and almost impossible to look away from.

I turned to Tyler. “The client needs a little more convincing,” I said, voice low. “Thought you could help us out.”

Tyler’s eyes flicked to the monster cock still slick with my spit and pre-cum. Fear, arousal, and hesitation battled in his gaze.  “Sir… I don’t know. That’s… that’s a lot,” he admitted, voice trembling.

The client dwarfed him completely—height, muscle, presence. Next to that beast, Tyler looked delicate, almost fragile.  “Don’t worry,” I murmured. “I’ll get it ready for you. I’ll make sure it’s nice and lubed up.”

The client let out a deep, amused grunt at that — the smirk on his face saying everything.

“Drop your pants,” I told Tyler. “Bend over the desk.” He did as he was told, shaking slightly as he exposed himself. He positioned himself next to the client, arse hanging over the desk. 

The client’s big hand moved over to Tyler’s ass, completely covering one cheek. He rubbed it in slow circles, warming the skin. He then slid his thick index finger between Tyler’s cheeks. Tyler gasped the second the client’s finger pushed inside — barely getting it in before his eyes rolled. His fingers were as big as the rest of him, stretching Tyler open instantly.

The client pushed a second finger in, sinking both deep. Tyler whined, the sound raw and desperate, his ass spreading around his fingers. Watching this giant of a man casually open my assistant with two thick fingers hit me hard. Seeing his hole twitch and stretch around those fingers got me horny enough that I almost forgot what I was supposed to be doing. I tried to focus on the cock in my mouth, but watching those thick fingers work Tyler’s hole made my own cock throb. 

I moaned around his cock, unable to hide how turned on I was. I sucked harder, throat opening as the client started face-fucking me again with one hand while the other kept pumping into Tyler, working him open. I didn’t want to give up that cock — But the alternative was watching this beast fuck Tyler. The idea of him breaking him open was even more exciting.

The client finally pulled me off his cock. A firm yank by the hair—no hesitation. He positioned himself behind Tyler, his legs planted wide, his boots solid against the office floor. His shirt stretched over his chest and arms, muscles tight, looming like a damn titan, smoke billowing from his lips. I was reminded of how much of a giant he was next to Tyler. I almost felt bad for the boy, but mostly, I was jealous.

I got up and grabbed Tyler’s ass, spread him wide for the client, holding those cheeks open so the man could line himself up. He took his cock, massive and thick,  and ran it up and down Tyler’s hole, smearing precum and my saliva as he went. The kid whimpered as the client’s huge cock was pressing right against his huge, round ass. They matched like they were built for each other.

The client stopped teasing. Centred his cock on Tyler’s hole. A perfect bullseye. And then he pushed. Slow. Deliberate. The thick head stretched Tyler inch by inch. Tyler gasped, breathing sharp and desperate.  “Deep breaths,” I reminded him. “Take it. Take him slow.”

The client kept pushing, deeper… deeper… until half that monster was inside Tyler. It looked impossible—Tyler’s body straining, that tight hole forced wide open, pain and pleasure fighting across his face. Tyler’s hole stretched unbelievably around him. This was likely the biggest cock the boy had ever taken, and he was still taking more. Finally, the client was buried to the base. Balls-deep. Watching a man that size fully inside Tyler was a sight, and the jealousy burned hotter than the lust.

I moved around to the front of the desk and caught Tyler’s eyes. His face was dripping with sweat, mouth open, chest rising in quick, desperate pulls of air as he tried to adjust to the size destroying him.

I was rock hard now. The first slow withdrawal was stunning—watching that enormous cock slide slowly out of Tyler’s hole. This scene was driving me to a frenzy. I unbuckled my belt, pulled out my cock, and pushed it straight into Tyler’s mouth. He took it instantly, grateful for the distraction, gagging around me as the client started to move.

Then the client slammed back in, hard, brutal, merciless.

Tyler nearly choked on my cock, his whole body jolting as the beast drove into him. His eyes rolled up, tears forming, spit running down my shaft as he tried to focus on sucking me while being pounded from behind.

The client fucked him like a man, releasing weeks of frustration with deep, furious thrusts, shaking the desk. Tyler’s ass, round and perfect, swallowed that monster over and over like it was made for him. 

The giant leaned forward, grabbing Tyler’s shoulders, bracing himself so he could fuck Tyler harder. Sweat dripping from his jaw. The cigar was still hanging from his mouth, but he was working too hard to keep it steady. Not wanting to break his flow with Tyler,  I took it from his lips and brought it to my own. I tasted it, tasted him, his sweat, his spit, the heat of his breath on the tip. He looked at me with that smirk—the one that said everything

I knew he was close. At that moment, I decided to capture his attention. His cock buried deep in Tyler, I lifted my gaze, cigar between my lips, and stared him dead in the eyes. Every exhale of smoke was deliberate, every glance a reminder of who was in control.

His face was full of ecstasy, lost in the rhythm of fucking my assistant, and I let myself break through that haze. “So… are we good now?” I asked, my voice low and teasing. “Did you get everything you wanted from us? Are our negotiations complete?”

He inhaled deeply, my cigar smoke curling around him, eyes flicking between us. Then it happened, that slow, spreading smirk. The kind a man wears when he suddenly understands what was going on.

“Yeah…” he said, voice low and satisfied, “I think I got what I wanted.”  His gaze lingered on Tyler’s ruined hole, then on my lips still shiny from him.  “I’m not finished yet… but I will be. And trust me—” he exhaled, “—I’ll be damn happy with what I got. This was better than I expected.”

I grinned. “Good. Let’s get this deal completed.”

I pulled my cock from Tyler’s mouth, hearing the muffled moan as the giant continued to thrust. Tyler was gasping for air, chest heaving, his ass stretched impossibly wide under that relentless pounding. I sank back against the wall, cigar smoke curling around me, watching the spectacular display unfold.

The client’s eyes caught mine, and his smirk told me he was amused at what I had done. I had taken charge of the negotiations entirely, orchestrated this whole scene, but he didn’t even care anymore.

With a loud groan, he shot his first load deep inside Tyler. The relief on Tyler’s face was instant; the sensation of that thick cock filling him made him exhale with a mix of pain, pleasure, and release. The giant kept thrusting, pumping load after load—two… three… four, right into my assistant, and Tyler’s eyes found mine each time, a knowing smile passing between us.

When he finally finished, the client didn’t just collapse—he folded over Tyler, chest heaving, muscles trembling, his massive frame blanketing Tyler’s smaller body. Tyler let out a tiny, broken sound under the weight of him, face pressed to the desk, legs shaking. The room felt thick with heat, sweat, and the ghost of every thrust he’d driven into my assistant.

Eventually, he pushed up—slow, unhurried, still drunk on release. His hands braced on the desk as he straightened, shoulders rolling back, regaining that effortless, terrifying composure. When he slipped out of Tyler, his cock emerged slick, swollen, and still obscene even at half-mast. It glistened in the low office light, a thick, dripping testament to what he’d just done.

I sank to my knees without a word.

He didn’t ask.
He didn’t need to.

I cleaned him slowly, reverently, tongue tracing every thick vein, savoring the taste of him and Tyler. The taste was heady—salt, musk, sweat, power. He watched me the entire time, approving.

When I finished, I eased his jockstrap back over that heavy, half-soft weight. He tucked himself in, pulled up his jeans, cinched his belt with a satisfied grunt, and adjusted the outline with a casual confidence that made my pulse jump again.

He reached for his jacket, slinging it over one shoulder. 

 I cleared my throat. “I’ll finish the contracts and send them over for you to sign.”

He paused mid-step. Turned. Smirked.

“Why don’t you just call me,” he said, low and certain, “I’ll come by and collect them when I’m ready.”

I laughed under my breath. “Looking forward to it.”

He picked up the still smouldering cigar, brushed a hand over my shoulder in a way that felt more like a claim than a goodbye, and walked out with that heavy, controlled swagger—looser now, satisfied, but still radiating authority like heat.

The door clicked shut.

Silence settled.

Tyler was still bent over the desk, breathing hard, legs barely holding him up. I stepped behind him, smoothing a hand down his back.

“I think you earned a bonus for this one,” I murmured.

He turned his head, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy. “I think I got my bonus already…”
A tiny smirk.  “…but I’ll take whatever else you want to give me, sir.”

I chuckled, pulling a fresh cigar from my drawer. Ready to celebrate our win. Another beast tamed, another happy client. The flame hissed softly as I lit it. Smoke spiraled upward, warm and slow, filling the room like a victory flag.

Tyler straightened himself up with care, gathering his clothes, slowly getting dressed. I leaned back in my chair, watching him move, savoring the wreckage, the scent, the echo of dominance hanging thick in the air.

The negotiation was over.

ut the aftermath… that was all mine.

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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The hunky roofing contractor man-spread in the chair opposite me and his relaxed thighs fooled me; they were actually rock-hard muscle that could crack your skull.  As I found out.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

A flirty painter stud had recommended the roofer; he’d fully disclosed that his “bud” Kit was just starting his own business but assured me he’d been doing roofing for over ten years, was highly capable, was well-recommended, and was responsible.  Why would I give credence to a paint estimator I didn’t really know?  Well his own sinewy, furry, ginger bod and his long fat-headed cock that sprang from his thick fiery bush was one reason; seeing as how he’d blown me a day earlier in the same room as I know lusted after his bud in.  An estimate couldn’t hurt either way.

When we bought the house we knew the roof would have to be replaced soon enough; Florida’s very tough as far as homeowners’ insurance and roofs.  We passed a roof inspection five years ago by our insurance company but knew the ten-year-plus age and a big storm could change that in an eye-blink.  May had been the hail storm; we’d been procrastinating on getting it checked-out for five months.

Kent was out in our yard with our puppy Nigel when the roof guy drove into our driveway; I’d been engrossed either in a contract I was reviewing for my consulting gig or porn at the time; not sure which.  When we are in our rear yard or pool area unless we chose to be in directly at one of the gates the hedging and other shrubs and trees completely conceal us from the outside; we don’t wear clothes in the house and don’t bother to when we go outside unless it was cold or raining.  Today was eighty and sunny; the joys of north Florida’s end of autumn.

I heard Nigel in the kitchen eating his “lunch cookie;” an ill-conceived compromise when he’d graduated from two meals a day as a very young puppy to one.  The whole big-dog dog biscuit meant a floor full of crumbs left-over.  Kent appeared at the door to my study.  Oh now I remember; I’d read the contract and segued to porn to wake me back up.  “Working HARD I see,” Kent said with a laugh looking at my hard-on.

He came into the room, dropped to his knees, and licked a up from my big hairy balls to my tip.  He sucked my tip for too short a time and I whimpered when he fell back on his haunches and smacked his lips.   “That’s to remind you the difference between porn and what Daniel or I always have waiting for you.”

“Daniel’s at work; and you were in your own world of technical specs and making them consumable for that Irish conglomerate that pays you so well to work naked an ocean away.”

I was in my easy chair; a suede recliner that doesn’t look like one.  I had my laptop on the arm as I often do; not entirely so that my hard-on wasn’t impeded by it if I had it in my lap.   He came up to his knees and bent over my jutting member and the edge of my laptop screen.  I could vaguely smell my pre-cum apart from the mint of his breath when his lips were close enough to mine to make my balls tingle more than they already were when he was licking me.  I thought he was going to kiss me; to distract me from the porn with his muscle and talent and leave me breathless, sore, and blissful like he did every time.  Instead he told me, “Roof contractor is here.  And he doesn’t mind nudity.  ‘We’re guys; used to it in the gym,’ he said in an exaggerated bro-voice.  Then he slapped my big fat hard-on.  “Wonder how many of those gym bros pack this kind of heat,” he said with a smirk.  “I let him in through the side gate: he’s on the roof.  He’ll ring the bell when he’s done inspecting.”  He took a few steps out and then turned outside the doorway with a very evil smirk on his face.  “I double-dog dare ya to bag this bro.”

And Kent was gone.  My dick still throbbed and my eyes reminded me that his hairy back-side is better than most any I see on screen; at minimum as good as any porn actor-model.  And I knew what he’d dared me to do.

I decided that I too would remain unclothed; but I also decided that a less direct approach would be better.  I closed the porn and went back to formatting my notes from my review of my client’s contract with their manufacturer; the correlation to operating reports and inventories was mind-numbing enough for my hard-on to deflate in no time.

The chime of the front walk alarm startled me; I heard heavy footfalls approaching the front door through the foyer outside my study.  He had the slightest smirk when he looked me head to toe through the front door glass when we met there at the same time.  Like our yard the hedges and shrubbery completely impair any view from the street or neighbors.  I swung the door open and it was all eye contact.  “The other Mister Sherbourne?” He asked with his muscular arm and meaty hand out to shake.  The hand-shake was as firm as his body; and like a well-trained young man the eye contact was maintained.  “Your husband said you’re the one to talk to.”  Among other things to do, I thought remembering Kent’s challenge.

I led him into my study and motioned for him to sit in one of the empire chairs.  That one is basically opposite my recliner and that’s where I settled, back one notch, with my legs splayed, and my heavy package on display between my hairy thighs.  More than a moment’s break in eye contact to check me out again; then he settled in and man-spread himself.

He was all business until he wasn’t.  At one point a bit frustrated with his technology and concentrating he finally got the estimate sent to my phone, told me it was finally there, adjusted himself and left his left hand hanging over his crotch.  “Before you look at that know that I’ll do everything I can to make this a pleasure,” he said seriously.  I looked pointedly at his crotch and then back with my eyebrows raised.  “Wait, no, sir, I didn’t mean … “ he stammered flustered.  He was cuter when he wasn’t being all professional; I grinned at him.  “What I meant was I’ll walk you through the insurance claim to your homeowners’ company, so most of this will be covered.”

“I want to say that you can plainly see I don’t care much for being covered; but when it comes to money I do … a lot.”  He had no poker face; I should invite him to our poker nights.  He at first looked worried at my comment about being covered and sat up straighter and tense and brought his knees together; then he looked relieved when I’d finished and we were back on the topic of business and settled back again with his knees even wider apart.

“Look, Kit,” I said.  “I wanna suck your cock.”  His eyes widened but he didn’t react; or he did by freezing.  “It has nothing to do with our business and everything to do with being a gay man and enjoying a hot stud.  When was the last time you came?”

“I uh well I’m not usually into … I mean not that I’ve never … “ he stammered.

“I’m sure that it’s definitely not that you never cum,” I said with a chuckle.

He laughed nervously.  “Sorry I didn’t mean … “  I kept quiet eyes on his; to his credit his on mine too.  “I meant with dudes.  I’m straight.”

“I didn’t say and don’t care one way or another Kit.  You’re hot and you’re young and I’m betting have a dick and full balls under those flimsy work-out shorts.  I have a mouth and talent.”

His turn to smirk.  “I don’t get off from oral alone.”

I love a challenge.  “I wonder … But either way I have a hole tighter than any pussy too.  Is that another ‘not usually’?” I asked with air quotes.

His gaze was intense; the smirk lost.  “I haven’t for a long time.”

And just like that his thin shorts were tenting appealingly.  I flicked my eyes from the growing tent to his eyes.  He adjusted himself.  I’d won the bet already!  Now to collect my winnings.

I raised my chair, got out of it and crawled to him.  I let my hands come to rest on his warm fuzzy knees as my own knees made the last couple of moves to position me between them.  He let out a long sigh.

I let my hands slide up his thighs, under his shorts, under his boxer briefs.  His breath was louder his hands clenched on the arm of the chair.  “Your husband; he won’t mind?”

I looked up at him and smirked again.   Before I answered my fingers found his hot balls inside those briefs and he gasped as I took him in hand firmly.  “My husband dared me that I couldn’t get you.”

I found his shaft with one hand then and he moaned as I gripped it and continued holding his balls.  “Fuuuuuuuuck,” he said as my index finger found his wet foreskin.

“Uncut.  Nice,” I said looking up.

“I might not be … I’ve been on three estimates since I showered at the gym this morning,” he warned.

I could smell him; just barely over a touch some masculine cologne that lingered and some deodorant or strong soap scent.  I narrowed my eyes and bored into his.  “I’m not some girl Kit.  I like a man to smell and taste like a man.”

His eyes looked a bit panicked; but his thick veiny dick was twitching and pre-cum was flowing on my fingers.  He surprised me when he moved his hands to his waist-band, raised his hips enough, and slipped them down just enough to free his junk with a slap to his polo shirt over his ab area.

My hands were still inside the shorts and boxer-briefs.  As much as I didn’t want to let go I was going to have to.   Before I did I leaned in, pulled his shaft away from his body by its root, and licked the tip and ran my tongue  around under his foreskin once.  “Awww FUCK!” he gasped.

I leaned back, pulled my arms free, pulled his shorts and boxer briefs down and off one ankle over his big sneakers, and licked my lips.  “Mmmmmm,” I moaned lasciviously.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“OH YEAH,” I responded.  And I dove back on and throated him in one gulp while I took hold of his sac again.

“Oh fuck man!” he gasped.  “Nnnnnngggghhhhh,” he groaned as my tongue assaulted his shaft and head as I pumped up and down him over and over and massaged his big balls.

His earlier man-spread had given no indication of what was inside; those boxer-briefs held him tight and he was obviously a grower.  But he was thick enough to draw attention from anyone seeing him at fighting stance and long enough that he was well down my throat when my nose was in his musky pubes at his root.

I savored his tang on my tongue and I inhaled deeply every time his bush was up my nose.  I’d like to say he was a stallion and made me work for it but it was only a few minutes before he bellowed, “OH MAN I don’t f-f-f-fuckin’ believe … I’m gonna … You might wanna … “  He pushed my forehead but I resisted and sucked him harder and his hands slapped back to the chair’s arms.

He erupted in a series of, “AWWWW FUUUUUUCK MAN!” and “FUCK YEAH!” and repeated “FUCK!” as shot after shot went into my throat and back-filled my mouth as he pumped and pumped and his ass was raised off the chair.

His cum was just strong enough and thick as molasses; the taste of a man in his prime.  I savored every drop and before I swallowed all of what was in my mouth I gave him a break from my tongue-work on his too-sensitive head.  I pulled back and opened my mouth so he could see what I knew was a lot on my tongue still.  His eyes met mine wide and dazed.  Then I swallowed with exaggerated mouth movements clearly savoring the last as I swallowed again and opened my mouth again.

“FUCK MAN!” he exclaimed ineloquently.

“Another time,” I cracked but was serious.  “I have a call in four minutes.  Can I sign whatever and be on time?”

“Dude!” he just said breathlessly as I moved away to get my phone and see where we left off.

I completely read and electronically signed an estimate and an agreement that if the work proceeded I’d pay my (too healthy ‘wind and other perils’) deductible to Kit’s company.  It wasn’t the best estimate; too many ways to get out of it; but I’m not a lawyer.  Maybe if he came back for more I’d fix him up with ours if he didn’t have one of his own.  “If you want to clean-up the bathroom is through there,” I said and pointed.

“Dude you didn’t leave anything on my cock!” he said and held his still turgid member as if I didn’t know I’d done a good job.  With a laugh he said, “But I do need to piss.”

He went through and I finished the electronic signature and emailed myself the estimate.  I was at my desk getting ready to click into the call when his heavy stream finished and I heard the sink.  He came back into the study smelling more of the hand soap than his musk; too bad.  “My call in one.  You know the way out.  And you have my number if you ever need more help.  Otherwise I’ll let you know what USAA says about the claim.”  And I turned around and took hold of the mouse again.

“Mr. Sherbourne?” he said tentatively.

“I think we can go with Al at this point,” I said with a smile back to him and I clicked the first of too many clicks it would take to get into the video-call.

“I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your business,” he said.

“You came highly recommended.  I’m confident,” I said and clicked the second time.

“And I … “

“Of course you did,” I cut him off.  “I’m confident in myself,” I told him throwing him a smirk and then putting my finger to my lips as the last click joined me into my business call.

Later on after I’d regaled Kent and Daniel with the entire replay and after we’d fucked energetically on the double lounge by the pool my watch pinged with a text.  I hadn’t entered Kit’s contact and I didn’t recognize the number; it wasn’t the odd area code I’d seen when he called me initially after the referral the day before and when he was on his way this morning.  I still intended to find out where that number was from.  I clicked into the text and saw it was him; a different number.  “The roofer,” I said simply.

“Let me guess,” my world-wise husband said smugly.  “He wants more.”

Daniel laughed and hefted my sweaty balls and slimy dick.  “Right that!  Who wouldn’t?”  I leaned his way and kissed our boy with genuine affection and appreciation for his compliment.

Kent chimed in.  “I second that.  Now don’t keep us in suspense.”

I read it out loud.  “This is Kit, from this afternoon. This is my personal phone, the other is my work phone. I just wanted to say thanks I think? Like man, Al, that was the best I’ve ever had. But you were done and onto the next thing, and I’m no chick or anything, but just needed to say that was great. Thanks Al. If you were serious I may want to try more. Happy Thanksgiving by the way.”

Daniel said, “Sweet guy.”

Kent said, “His knob got treated better than it ever had before and now he wants more but also is afraid of what he now knows about himself.  He knew exactly that a man a very sexy skilled one. Was getting him off and he just went with it.  He has some processing to do.”

I said, “I wonder how far we’ll get him to go when he comes back for more.”

Kent leaned over Daniel and kissed me.  “I love that you keep your eye on the prize.”  We all laughed.

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The routine solidified. Guards came hourly, sometimes alone, sometimes in pairs. They fucked her hard and fast in her arse, then put their cocks in her mouth. “*Drink,*” they’d command, laughing as she choked on their piss flowing down her throat. The taste was acrid, burning her throat, settling like poison in her stomach. Hunger gnawed, sharp and insistent. Thirst became a constant torment. Rashid returned later, dragging a heavy wooden chair behind him. Its seat bore a crude, jagged hole cut through the centre. “*Upgrade,*” he grunted. He unlocked her wrist manacles only to chain her ankles to iron rings bolted beneath the chair’s legs. Her neck was shackled now too, linked to the chair’s frame, forcing her head back, her mouth aligned perfectly beneath the hole. “*Proper plumbing,*” Rashid declared, patting the chair. “*Food and water come through here now. Earn it.*” He barked orders outside. The first recruit stepped forward, fumbling with his trousers. Tiffany stared up at the dark circle above her. She saw him position himself. A hot stream of his piss hit her face, blinding her. She gasped, inhaling the vile liquid. It flooded her mouth, her nose. She gagged violently, convulsing against the chains. “*Swallow it all, bitch!*” Rashid yelled. “*Or you get no real water!*” The recruit laughed, finishing his stream. Tiffany choked, sputtering, her throat raw. Before she could recover, Rashid shoved the man aside. “*Not done!*” he snarled. Rahis lifted up his abaya and sat on the chair. Tiffany looked up to see Rahids , hairy arse. Rahids are hole started to pucker.  Rahid grunted, straining. A thick, foul mass of his shit dropped heavily through the hole, landing directly into Tiffany’s open mouth. The stench was overwhelming. The texture was unspeakable. She retched, bile mixing with the filth. Rashid kicked the chair. “*EAT IT!*” he roared. “*Or the next five get extra turns!*” Tiffany closed her eyes. She chewed and she swallowed. The first of five. She knew , that to survive , she had to become a fully compliant , human toilet.

 

Later, Rashid returned alone. He unlocked the neck shackle and the ankle chains. Tiffany slumped onto the damp straw, trembling, her face smeared with filth. Rashid hauled her upright by her hair. “*Good dog,*” he muttered. He dragged her, stumbling, out of the pit cell and down the corridor to a small, tiled room she hadn’t seen before. A single hose snaked from a wall spigot. Rashid shoved her under it and turned the tap. Freezing water blasted her, shocking her senses. He scrubbed her roughly with a coarse brush, scraping her skin raw, washing away the stench and the residue. He tossed her a thin, rough towel. “*Dry off.*” Then, he pointed to a small stool beside a low table. On the table sat a steaming bowl of fragrant stew, rich with chunks of lamb and vegetables, beside a plate of flatbread and a cup of clean water. Tiffany stared, disbelieving. Rashid leaned against the wall, watching her. “*See?*” he said, his voice unnervingly calm. “*Behave. Obey. Accept what you are. And you get rewarded.*” He gestured at the food. “*This is your routine now. Filth earns you fuel. Understand? Drink piss. Eat shit. Then… you get this.*” He tapped the bowl. “*Nice food. Proper food. Enough to keep you strong. Enough to serve Al-Mawt.*” Tiffany’s stomach clenched violently, both from hunger and revulsion. The smell of the stew was intoxicating. The memory of what she’d swallowed moments before was a physical weight. Rashid watched her hesitation. “*Eat,*” he commanded softly. “*Or it goes back to the dogs.*” Tiffany reached for the bread. Her hand shook. She dipped it into the stew, the steam warming her face. She took a bite. The flavors exploded—rich meat, savory broth, herbs. It was ambrosia after hell. She devoured it ravenously, gulping the clean water. Rashid smiled, a predator satisfied. “*Good,*” he murmured. “*Remember the taste. Remember what obedience buys.*” He hauled her back to her feet. “*Back to your throne, princess. Shift change is soon. guards waiting.*” He dragged her back towards the pit, the chains, and the chair beneath the hole. The taste of stew lingered, sweet and terrible. It was the price of survival. For now.

 

The routine solidified like cement. Dawn brought the first guard. Tiffany chained beneath the chair. Shackles held her neck arched back, her mouth open beneath the crude hole. Legs spreadeagled and raised and secured to the rafters. The guard grunted above her, thrusting his big Arab cock into her arse. The pain was a dull ache now, a familiar violation. He finished quickly, filling her with cum. Then came the hot stream of his piss, splashing her face, flooding her mouth. She swallowed mechanically, the acrid taste registering only distantly. Next came the heavier sound, the foul weight of his shit dropping into her mouth. She chewed. Swallowed. The guard chuckled, adjusting his clothes. “*Good toilet,*” he grunted, slapping her cheek before leaving. Another took his place. And another. Ten men. Every morning. Every shift. Fuck. Piss. Shit. Tiffany became a vessel. Her mind retreated further. The name “Tiffany” faded, the guards never used it. “*Open wider, toilet,*” they’d sneer. “*Swallow it all, toilet.*” “*Clean yourself up, toilet,*” Rashid would order after the last man, dragging her back to the washroom hose. Then came the stew, the bread, the water. The only warmth. The only taste not of degradation. She ate silently, staring at the wall. The food wasn’t kindness. It was fuel. Fuel for the toilet. Fuel to endure the next ten.

The next day. The next violation. Her identity dissolved into the rhythm of filth and fuel. She was the pit. She was the hole in the chair. She was toilet. She was loosing her human mind and becoming , simply , an object.

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I am a junior in college. Back when I was a freshman I was one of the managers for the freshmen swim team because I knew a lot about sports injuries because my father was a doctor. I had never thought of being gay or had ever experimented at all. But all that changed after my freshman year as the manager of the swim team.

As every one got out of the pool, Patrick approached me. I had been swimming myself because I was on the team as well as being a manager. I was 5′ 10″ with a muscular build, firm pecs and abs, strong legs, big biceps, blond hair, a tan everywhere except under my speedo. Patrick had the same swimmer’s type build as I did only with brown hair. He asked me if I could look at his thighs because they were giving him some trouble when he swam. I told him to dry off and meet me in the medical room, which was just a room in the gym with a padded table. As I entered, he was sitting on the table still in his speedo like me. I welcomed him and told him to lay face down on the table so I could look at the back of his thighs. His muscular butt was in full flex showing how tight it was, something I didn’t usually take time to look at. After I felt his thighs I discovered they were just cramped up and needed a massage to work the cramp out I asked him if he could stay longer to have the massage and he gladly said yes.

As I began to rub the back of his thighs we started talking about school and tests. Then after a brief pause he asked me if I had ever had sex. After another pause I told him I had sex with a girl earlier in the year. He told me he had had his dick sucked by a girl this year too. Then the conversation took a twist and he asked me if I had ever had gay sex. I immediately said no as I laughed at such a strange question. He also said no quickly. Then he asked in a strange tone what it would be like. I said that I had no idea with a smile that said this is getting weird. After a very long pause he finally got more to his point and Patrick asked if he could suck my cock. I immediately stopped massaging his thigh and looked at him in disbelief.

Patrick said, “C’mon, it won’t be that weird, all I want to do is try it.”

Then I said, “Won’t that be weird though if I get a hard-on?”

Patrick said, “I won’t tell anyone so it won’t matter. C’mon, all you have to do is stand right where you are.”

After all of his pleading I said alright but not for too long. Patrick then leaned on his side and motioned me to stand in front of his mouth by the table. I looked at his speedo as I moved around the table and he had a huge boner from the excitement. As I stood in front of him he pulled my speedo down just past my cock and looked in amazement. I was impressive at my age being 5″ soft and 8″ hard. I was soft at the moment not quite sure what exactly was going to happen. Then Patrick grabbed my dick and began to suck, I forgot how good it felt, I was hard in seconds. Patrick looked at me a gave the best smile he could with a dick in his mouth. I began to moan as Patrick took my cock deeper in his mouth. Within seconds I had grabbed the back of his head and was pumping it over my rock hard prick. We were both moaning in delight as he kept polishing my dick with his mouth thank God everyone had left the gym. Finally I felt something, something very good, and then from my dick came hot white semen all into Patrick’s mouth, I couldn’t believe it. I asked him if he was going to spit it out but then he swallowed it right in front of me. I looked at him in disbelief.

Now Patrick was in a high sex gear and wasn’t going to stop, and I wasn’t going to try to stop him one bit. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me on to the table. My face was right in his crotch and his face was in mine, only mine was nude. Patrick slipped my speedo all the way and began to suck my dick again I was still roaring and ready to shoot another load. But now something new was happening in front of me was a cock bulging inside a speedo and I needed to give it attention. At first I licked the outside of the speedo and began to suck his dick while it was all wrapped up. Finally I decided to go all the way so I pulled his speedo down a few inches and I was greeted by his 7″ cock that was ready to go. So as I got the life sucked out of me by Patrick I sucked him to perfection. He went crazy as i sucked his prick rapidly and showed no mercy to his semen shooter. Then he gave in and cummed all in my mouth, I loved it, it was hot and tasty. I swallowed the hot juice of manhood and kept sucking. It was better than I could have ever imagined.

Then I heard Patrick say, “I’m not stopping until I get another hot load from you!”

I responded saying,”Oh you’ll get it alright.”

So we both began sucking at full speed, what a rush. As I sucked him I wrapped my hands around his tight ass and started to finger his asshole. When I finally pushed my finger in Patrick almost jumped off the table. Instead of ending his sucking I heard him moan and beg for more. Then he did the same to me which made me go crazy and suck his dick like no other. There we were laying head to cock on the padded medical table fingering each other’s assholes, unexpected but a great feeling. Finally I felt another load of cum building up pressure in my cock and it burst into Patrick’s mouth. Patrick started groaning and I started screaming in delight. He continued to suck the final bits of semen out of my dick and when he was done we both sat up on the table with our hard-ons still raging for more sex.

Patrick then leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’ve got another idea.”

I asked, “What is it, stud?”

He then said in a horny tone, “Let’s put our dicks where our fingers were.”

I felt a jolt in my cock as I nodded yes to him. He then motioned me to screw him first. I had never done this before but when his slipped his speedo onto the floor and got on all fours on the table I knew what to do. I immediately took my cock, lubed with Patrick’s saliva and put it up to his asshole and pushed it into his tight ass. It was a wonderful feeling and Patrick began to moan in extreme delight. He laughed because my pubic hairs tickled his asshole as I thrust all of my 8″ into his ass. My muscular chest crashed into his muscular back with every thrust of fuck. I wasn’t going to last much longer. Then as I prepared to blow my third load of the day the door flew open with me and my cock all the way in Patrick’s asshole.

“Holy shit,” I screamed as I blew my load in Patrick’s tight ass. But there was Rob standing right at the door. It must have been quite the sight for him, even though he wasn’t gay. There was my tight ass flexed with all my muscles bulging and in full form over Patrick’s hard body that was being fucked. I didn’t notice that he was in the room until he told me and Patrick to sit down, which we did right away.

I was a little afraid because he would tell everyone in school we were gay.

Then I noticed Patrick and I were still nude with raging hard-ons sitting in the chairs in the side of the room. Rob was standing in front of us. Rob was a stud by definition, he was the varsity football quarterback he had a hard but smooth chest, hard pecs and abs, big strong arms and legs, a tight butt, and a cute face with curly black hair. At the moment he was only wearing mesh gym shorts and nothing else. Me and Patrick got hard looking at this hunk and I think he noticed our boners.

“So you guys are homos?” Rob asked.

Patrick looked at me and I said, “Are you going to tell everyone about us?” .

There was a long pause and then Rob said, “I won’t, on one condition”

“Which is?” I asked

“Well, I was kind of wondering if you guys could suck my cock, seeing as how you’re gay?” Rob asked.

“Are you gay too?” Patrick asked Rob.

“Well, I just want to see what it is like, okay?” ha said.

We both nodded yes to his plea and he motioned for me to suck him while he sat on the table. But before he sat on the table he took off his shorts revealing his tight jockstrap. Then I knelt on the ground in front of him and I took off his jock revealing a gigantic 10″ cock in full erection. He went and sat on the table then he laid down on the table. His cock was sticking into the air and I was on it right away. I took his cock down into my mouth as far as I could manage. He was moaning as I massaged his cock with my tongue. Then Rob signaled for Patrick to come over and kneel over on his chest so he could suck Patrick’s dick. Rob was obviously taken over by our hot bodies and was getting gay. As Patrick mounted Rob’s chest, Rob went right to sucking Patrick as I sucked him as well. Then I felt something stirring in Rob’s cock and I knew what it was, his sweet cum. I starting rubbing his abs and then he couldn’t hold out any longer. His cum was incredible, I swallowed it all as Rob was moaning and screamed, as best he could with a cock in his mouth. After I swallowed all of Rob’s cum I backed away and saw Patrick getting his hot cock mauled by Rob’s mouth. Then I decided I needed to fuck the captain of the football team. So I pushed his legs up and and put my hot prick in his tight ass and began to pump vigorously.

“Oh my god I love that, fuck me harder!” Rob yelled. Then I over heard him telling Patrick that he had nice cum. Then Rob told Patrick to go sit on his dick which was right in front of where i was fucking. When Patrick sat down on Rob’s giant cock he moaned with all his might. Rob started saying things like, “How do you like that, you hot little shit, I’m going to cum in your ass.” I reached around Patrick and grabbed his dick and began to stroke it. He went even more crazy. Then I did it, I cummed my fourth time and still a huge load inside Rob’s virgin ass. He returned the task by fucking Patrick even harder. I continued stroking Patrick until he cummed all over Rob and then Rob cummed inside Patrick’s hot ass. Patrick then realized he ride was waiting for him in the parking lot and he quickly put on his speedo and ran out the door. Rob and I watched his hot ass run down the hall.

Rob and I both decided to get dressed in what we had in the room which was a speedo for me and a jockstrap for Rob. So I could still see Rob’s meaty ass. Then I remembered I was suppose to spend the night at a friend’s, when I told Rob this he licked me in the ear and told me to follow him as he ran out the door. He went down the hallway in his jockstrap only because no one else was in the gym. I finally saw him as he turned in to a room. When I entered the room I saw a hot tub for the football players, and next to it Rob was beginning off his jock so he could get in. Just as he was about to get in I told him I had a better idea first. I directed him to some massage tables and told him to lay down. I began to massage his shoulders first. As I made the move movements on his tight muscles he let out soothing groans and to me to go lower. I began to massage his back muscles when he told me to go even lower. I massaged and rubbed his ass but first I took his jockstrap off and threw it on the floor. As I massaged his ass he told me to massage the inside of his ass, I told him there was only one tool for that. He made me walk to where his head was and he lubed me up by sucking my prick a few times. Then I went and knelt on the table and drove my pecker deep in his ass. I pumped in and out slowly so he could feel all I had to offer to him. But then I felt another load building pressure and I moved faster in and out moaning with my own pleasure. After I blew my load in his ass he suggested we go swimming, in speedos of course. So I went and got him a speedo out of my gym bag and we walked to the pool. Along the way we stopped to kiss and he even sucked my dick for no reason. Once we got to he pool there was another surprise for me…

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Ever since I found the Rent Men site on GayDemon, I’d been tempted by the beautiful and well hung men on offer. I’d recently traveled on two consecutive weekends and chatted with a few of them, but each time I chickened out at the last minute.

Well, last night, I finally overcame my fear and trepidation and actually met “Jeff” in Philadelphia.

Jeff was Brazilian, 25, 6’1”, 200, 8”uc, mildly hairy, bearded face, dark black curly hair and simply the most devious smile I ever did see.

We texted throughout the day and I discovered Jeff was not only into fucking ass, he loved to play with toys and fist ass, too.

After douching, I’d taken a couple of drags from a joint I had with me, and ate a potent gummy. If I was going to do this, I needed to relax.

I called for an Uber and 15 minutes later, I was there at his tow home in South Philly.

Jeff answered the door in just a pair of tight fitting grey briefs that did nothing to hide his package. We walked upstairs to a bedroom sparsely furnished with just a queen bed and small nightstand.

Jeff could sense I was a little nervous and hugged me, then we kissed. The friction of our facial hair ignited me.

Jeff pulled off his briefs and out sprung a very thick cock, and all its eight inches arced to a 45 degree angle.

I stripped down to my black and red neoprene jockstrap and Jeff pushed me down to my knees and rubbed the head of his cock along my lips and then smacked it over my face, then he pushed my head onto its side and beat my cheek. I could feel its weight with every thud.

“Open”, Jeff said, and finally I was allowed to take him in, but not in my own terms. Jeff held the back of my head firmly and began to thrust his cock in and out of my mouth. Once I’d hit bottom, he held me down for as long as I could manage before needing air.

Jeff pushed my face into his shaved ball sack. I sniffed them. Fresh soap, and the musk of a man in his sexual prime. I licked and sucked on those nuts until I wasn’t allowed to anymore. Jeff shoved his erection back down my throat and shredded it. It was glorious, and exactly what I wanted from him.

Jeff lifted me from my knees and kissed me again before literally body slamming me onto the mattress. Jeff positioned me so my head was hanging off the mattress on my back. Jeff teased me by smashing his balls all over my face.

“Open”, he said again as he stuffed them into mouth and I gently sucked and tugged on them.

Jeff removed his balls, now soaked with my throat juices, and ran his cock from top to base across my face.

Jeff pinched my nose and I reflexively opened and Jeff shoved his dick right back inside. I positioned myself so I could take all of his shaft down my throat. I was hungry for it. Jeff fed me his brick hard cock for quite some time and I was loving every second of this deep throating.

As I continued loving on his fuck stick, Jeff lifted my legs and put his face in my crack, rimming me like an expert. I know he was being paid to satisfy me, but damn, it seemed like Jeff was enjoying it based on how he was throwing himself into it.

While still on my back, Jeff pulled his cock from my face, and positioned himself right in front of me. He leaned in for another passionate kiss and I lifted my legs up and finally I felt him invade my manhole. Feeling Jeff inside me was wonderful.

I reached for the poppers and took a big hit. I wanted to enjoy this. As I drifted off into a personal euphoria. Jeff enhanced it by giving my ass a true railing. I felt that young buck’s ass flex as he buried his cock deep inside me.

Jeff pulled out and I saw his cock pulsating. We were to play for two hours so I’m sure he wasn’t quite ready to cum just yet.

Jeff found one of my favorite butt toys, slicked it up with Crisco and pushed it inside my hole. I took another hit, and I was off to the races. Jeff’s fingers gripped the base of my toy and he drilled it in and out of me. I’d become so gaped, the toy was inconsequential, I need more.

Jeff let the toy rest inside of me and then coated his cock with the Crisco. Somehow, he managed to squeeze his cock next to the toy and fully insert himself. My hole enjoyed the stretch.  I held my faves behind my head after taking a hit and let myself go, fully enjoying Jeff pounding me out with my toy still fully inserted, too.

Jeff sensed I was ready for his fist now. He pulled his cock out of me and then my toy.

I took two deep hits as his fingers probed inside my hole and we were four fingers in very quickly. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and guided Jeff’s hand inside me. My head began to spin from this initial entry.

I found my little rag and poured a drop of poppers onto it and brought it up to my nose.

I nodded my head to Jeff, ready for him to punch me out. Jeff fisted his hand and pulled it out, only to punch it right back inside. Faster and faster Jeff worked his fist, treating my hole like something he hated, growling as he beat it up.

Jeff yanked his fist out of me and my rosebud appeared. Jeff became enamored with it, licking and ducking on my swollen lips and the red folds of my manpussy.

Meanwhile, that first round of aggressive pussy punching made my caged cock drip. I knew there was a good chance I’d cum, and this was a great sign. I hadn’t cum in weeks so I was ready.

Jeff manhandled me onto my stomach and fucked me silly. His thick cock definitely knew its way around an ass, and I was definitely getting my money’s worth. I was panting, breathless, after Jeff was finished using my rear.

Jeff didn’t seem to care. He pulled me up by the hips and punched his way back inside me. I sprayed some poppers into the cloth and breathed in the cold aroma. In seconds my head was spinning, and my pussy transformed into a hungry cunt. Jeff took this opportunity to push four fingers of his other hand into my tush.

“Grrrrrrr”, I groaned. I took another hit from the cloth, still wet from the spray.

When it kicked in, Jeff dropped his thumb in, and now I had two Brazilian fists sharing space in my butt hole.

My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I pushed myself down further over both of them, now up the wrists. Fully inserted and filling my hole. It was perfect.

Another hit of IronFist and we were ready for a double barrel blowout. Jeff sure knew what he was doing as he delivered the goods, making my cunt sing. Jeff had me begging for him to “blow out my faggot cunt”. My entire body shook when the first assgasm hit, and my balls erupted, creaming the inside of my jockstrap’s lunch.

My ears rang and my heartbeat was going a million beats per second. The after effects of this climax had me feeling like I was floating away, with Jeff’s fists still buried in my guts.

Jeff pulled a fist out and replaced it with his cock. Holding his fist flat, using the top side of his greasy hand, his cock slid in and out of my rearranged asshole. I was almost crying, it felt absolutely incredible. Mixing weed and poppers had always been a successful pairing for me, especially in these moments. My hole so stretched, it was glorious. A second assgasm ensued and more cum dribbled out of my slit. Some had oozed down my taint, making itself known. Jeff just used my cum for more lube and fucked it all up into me.

Jeff suggested I ride his fist, he laid in his back while I straddled his closed fingers. I was so gained open, we easily went half way down his thick forearm.

I leaned over, and while Jeff punched out my hole, this time deeper than before, I was swallowing dick.

It seemed like the harder Jeff punched, the harder his cock became in my mouth. We were both on the verge of cumming together. Jeff took me to a throw body shaking orgasm at the same time Jeff’s cock erupted down my throat.

We didn’t quite make it the full two hours, but we had an awesome time, and it was worth every cent.

As I was getting ready to leave, Jeff  looked like he wanted to say something.

“Is everything ok?”, I asked.

“Yeah, I was just thinking, if you wanted more I live with three other escorts.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. I’m sure one of them would be available for you if you wanted more.”

“Oh yeah? Who are they?”

Jeff pulled up their Rent Men profiles. They were all gorgeous studs.

“Same price?”

“Yeah”

I selected one.

“I’ll be right back”, he said.

Stay tuned for part two…!

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To get in touch with the author, send them an email.

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This series follows characters from the Watching Him Back series. If you’re confused by some of these dummies then you know where to start.

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“Ah, shit.”

My professor’s gaze locks on me. “What was that, Mr. Givens?”

I smile at Dr. Aulgur. “I said, ‘perfect.’”

When her eyebrows go up like that I know she doesn’t believe me, but what the fuck ever. I just don’t want to be paired with What’s His Face. He doesn’t even look back at me.

“Do you know him?” Carter whispers. 

I shake my head. Like I’d fucking tell anyone. Getting assigned a lab partner instead of choosing our own is real junior high shit, anyway. Carter gets paired with a hot girl from St. Louis, lucky bastard. We move to our assigned stations, and this guy gives me a nod.

“I’m Dillon,” he says.

“I heard.”

He’s silent for a second, then goes, “Well, then I won’t pretend I didn’t know your name, or that I didn’t catch you making out with my roommate at the Theta party on Saturday night.”

This is fucking why I fucking didn’t fucking want him as my fucking partner. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I reply, pulling gloves from the dispenser.

Dillon smiles like we’re making small talk just like everybody else. “Bullshit. Why else would you be so mad to be my lab buddy?”

“I just prefer to look at dead bodies with someone I know.” I know that I’m not supposed to want to punch him in his bright white teeth. Not just because we’re in class, but because Brantley told me his roommate was actually, for real gay. It would look like I was picking on him. Nope. Calm down. 

“Relax, man. I’m not going to say anything,” he says, like he’s doing me a fucking huge favor.

I still can’t look the guy full in the face. “Anything about what?”

Dillon snorts a little. “I’ve made out with girls before. It’s no big deal. Could you hand me the gloves?”

“Yeah, but that’s normal,” I retort.

“Only if you’re attracted to them.” He’s so fucking cool about it. Though I’m still irritated, I’m a little impressed. “Seriously, Jay, it’s not a big deal. I won’t tell anyone about it.”

“You had better fucking not.” For god’s sake, why can’t I just say thank you? Old habits, I guess. Aaron would have slapped me upside the head. I try to change my tone. “I was so fucking wasted. Not exactly how I wanted my night to end.”

He shrugs. “Brantley doesn’t remember anything, if that helps.”

I know that because of course I fucking checked. “My question is if Valerie knows,” I try to joke, “because she promised us a threesome and I’d still love to hit that from the back.”

Now Dillon gives me a look that makes my balls shrivel. “I get it. You’re super straight; it was a drunken mistake. Don’t be gross about women.”

“I’m not!” I say loudly, and Dr. Aulgur gives me another glare. I shut up for the rest of class.

I’d love to ditch my new lab partner as soon as class is over, but Carter comes over to greet us.

“You played for Ray-Pec, right?” He shakes Dillon’s hand. “You were a big deal over there.”

“I don’t know about big deal, but yeah,” Dillon says, “I played.”

Carter turns to me as we exit the building. “Bruh. Remember that wide receiver we hated on Ray-Pec? The one we could never catch?”

I look at Dillon, who shrugs. 

“I don’t get it, man,” Carter says. “Why aren’t you playing football here?”

Dillon shrugs again, all shy and shit. “I don’t like that kind of pressure. Plus—” and here he actually glances at me. Fuck off. “—locker rooms are pretty homophobic. For every pass I caught, man…”

Well, way to suck the fun out of sports, gay guy. Now everything just feels sad. Like, he got real pitiful with that last sentence. 

Carter doesn’t even get it. He’s like, “That’s it? Shit, dude, like, you’re pussying out, Jay’s injured, and all the fucktards from St. Louis and Chicago are walking around all cocky and shit like we’re a bunch of hoosiers that don’t know a tight end from a running back. You gotta come out.”

Weird choice of words at the end, and I snort, and Dillon does, too.

“I’m totally out, man; football just wasn’t fun anymore,” he replies.

Carter still doesn’t get it. “So you did come out in the summer? I didn’t see you.”

“Sophomore year of high school.”

“And you made All State how many years?”

Dillon’s grin couldn’t be bigger, but he just says, “Four.”

Carter’s face freezes while he tries to figure that out.

I can’t take it anymore. “Carter, dickbrain, he’s telling you he’s gay,” I said, smacking the back of his head. “Came out, like, out of the closet.”

“Oh.” Carter processes, and I can actually see it when his eyes refocus. “Oh! I mean, whatever, man. One of our best friends on the team came out on graduation day. It was crazy. Actually, his boyfriend goes here. Ex-boyfriend. Do you know Crispin? Like, super small, super flaming, always wearing something weird like a little…” Carter does a splay-legged scuttle, “little goblin?”

I don’t like thinking about graduation. I know I’m not supposed to be mad at Aaron for being gay, but I can at least be mad at him for picking fucking Crispin Vieira. That little cocksucker is literally the worst.

Dillon kind of shrugs and glances at me again. Leave me alone, dude. He says, “I’d like to say something about how the gay kids don’t all know each other, but…Yeah, I know him.”

Carter continues dumbly, “Yeah, so like, he and our friend had been on the downlow for fuckin’ months, man. Aaron was like, ‘This little bitch has been fucking me up the ass!’ to like, everybody. His parents were so pissed.”

Dillon laughs. “Cris told a slightly different version, but I heard about how Aaron was living with him until school started.”

And just like that, gay kid sucks the fun out of it. Now Carter and I are just going “Hm” and “Yeah, sucks” like trying not to have to explain why Aaron didn’t stay with either of us.

“Okay, well, I gotta be across campus in ten, so I’m going to run,” Dillon says, breaking the awkwardness.

Human Biology this semester is going to be torture.

 

Once we’ve met, Dillon is everywhere. He’s in the cafeteria, curly hair sticking up every which way as he waits for an omelet on Saturday morning. He’s at the Rusty Pony on Sunday for their half-price appetizers, licking blue cheese and buffalo sauce off his fingers. I’m doing Bulgarian split squats in the gym and Dillon shows up in his Under Armour and basketball shorts.

Even—get this—there’s this girl named Kayleigh. She’s a Theta pledge, and she is fucking hot. Like, tall, toned like a model, super white teeth, great tits, and she has this bouncy curly red hair that falls halfway down her back. Plus she always wears those sexy little crop tops, or does that biker shorts and hoodie thing so that you can tell her ass is like this perfect bubble. Plus, she’s always smiling, so I’m sure she’s super nice. She’s the kind of girl you don’t bring up when you’re talking about banging college bitches, because you just wouldn’t do that to her. Kayleigh is too fucking classy.

I’m at a Sig Ep party with Carter, and Kayleigh walks in. I’m like, yes, now’s my chance, so I spend the entire night trying to maneuver my way close to her. We’re finally in the same little circle of people, and then the others go to grab more jello shots. I’ve been trying so hard not to be a douche, and Kayleigh seems open, so I ask her out.

“Sorry,” she says gently. “I just—I couldn’t do that to Dillon.”

“Dillon?” I repeat. Are they dating? Is he not actually out? Or is he bi?

Kayleigh gives me this sad look like I kicked her puppy. “He’s one of my best friends, and I know you’ve been super mean to him. It just wouldn’t be right.”

Carter laughs when I tell him this story later. “Maybe you and Dillon should kiss and make up.”

“Fuck off,” I retort.

“Naw, seriously,” he insists. “If you want to get to Kayleigh, be nice to her bestie.”

I’m not pledging Greek because my parents are worried about hazing and shit, but everyone I know is in a frat. There’s also nothing else to do in this town, so every weekend is figuring out which house to party in. Easy enough to figure out how to be nice to Kayleigh’s bestie.

“Are you going to the foam party on Friday?” I ask casually in lab.

Dillon shakes his head, and then sighs. “Yeah, actually.” I knew this, but it makes it way easier knowing that he doesn’t want to go. We work in silence for a little bit, until he does what I want and asks, “You?”

“Naw, man,” I say. “My friend Carter’s pledging Sig Ep, and they’re all having a tournament. Fortnite, I think. It’s supposed to be a fundraiser.”

Dillon seems to perk up at that, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“You wanna come? I’ll cover your entry.” I can feel him analyzing me, but my face is all up in the microscope. “Okay, I found the water flea.”

Dillon passes me a dropper of alcohol and replies, “I could make it.”

 

Dillon fits in easily with the guys, making fart jokes like everyone else. I wonder if it’s habit or experience. You almost can’t tell he’s gay, but every so often he’ll look at some guy with this kind of like, sleepy gaze, up and down real quick, and it’s totally obvious that he’s imagining that guy naked. He only does it when they’re not looking, so I can’t tell if he does it to me. He does smile at me different than everyone else, and I wonder if that’s because he knows I have a dumb secret; like, even Carter doesn’t have that kind of shit on me.

What Carter does have is even less of a filter than me. “Hey, are you biracial?” he asks Dillon just out of nowhere.

Dillon doesn’t stop pouring chips onto a paper plate. “Yeah.”

“Okay, I was wondering.”

“Why?” Dillon asks in a way that’s definitely a trap.

“I figured you were too dark to be Middle Eastern or something. Plus the nose is different, I guess. And blue eyes, brown skin.” Carter points at his own face to contrast. “Who’s black; your mom or your dad?”

I punch him in the side. “That’s fucking rude, bro. Stop microagressing.”

“I wasn’t!” Carter looks at Dillon, rubbing where I hit him. “Was I?”

Dillon makes a funny face, like yeah duh, and just walks back into the main room.

“Who are you trying to impress?” I hiss at Carter.

My friend shrugs. “What? I was just making conversation; I only know that he played All State and is gay.”

“Then talk about football. Or that we’re in Human Biology together.”

“Jesus. Sorry, mom.”

“LeAndre would—”

Carter scoffs. “You always bring him up like he and Aaron are Jesus and John the fucking Baptist. We’re all just people, bruh. Chill out for half a second, kay?”

I let him walk back into the den alone. Am I really being that much of a tightass? Kayleigh is big into social issues, though, and if Dillon tells her that I called out a friend, then that could earn me a lot of brownie points. I hope I used “microaggressing” right.

“—with fruit,” Dillon is saying when I make it back to the tournament.

“You’re kidding,” Carter scoffs as I flop down on the couch.

Dillon’s eyes slide to me and back again, and shakes his head. “Said it was better than pussy ’cause he didn’t have to work for it.” He grins a little, getting into the story. “Bananas were his favorite. He’d drape the peel over his dick,” he shifted to mimic the act, “and wrap his hand around it to jack off.”

Carter and the guys guffaw. “That’s sick, man,” someone says, and I say it’s better than spreading peanut butter on your balls for a dog to lick off, because I always have another story.

“That’s fucked up,” Carter declares. “Dude, can you imagine Porkchop—”

I wave my hands quickly. “Don’t drag my family pets into this, pervert.”

“That’s like the guy in Washington who died from getting fucked by a horse,” Dillon adds, and all eyes are back on him. It’s a true story, there’s a documentary, and now bestiality of any sort is outlawed in the state. Carter looks it up.

“How do you know this shit?” Carter asks, and then he gets that look when he’s about to say something mean that he thinks is funny. “You got a Google alert for ‘fucked up the ass?’ Get around the porn blockers?”

I go stiff. You’re not supposed to do that, are you? Like, you don’t out somebody in front of a bunch of strangers. Everybody’s quiet, but Dillon acts like he hasn’t noticed.

“Naw, it’s ’cause I learned how to read in school,” he says in that same tone. “Newspaper, motherfucker.”

“Who the fuck reads a newspaper anymore?” asks another pledge. It’s turned from guys shooting shit to some weird bear-baiting, and I don’t know how to fix it.

Dillon shrugs. “People who don’t spread peanut butter on their balls for the family Labrador, probably.”

I kick Carter in the shins. “Where’s the fuckin’ pizza, asshole?”

It’s clearly an attempt to change the subject, but it helps that Carter forgot to order it on his way over. 

Once we’ve both been knocked out of the tournament, Dillon and I end up walking home at the same time because Carter’s passed the fuck out and Dillon has even farther to go than me. I don’t know what to say to him. Like, I invited him along, but just because I was trying to prove I’m not a complete asshole.

“Sorry about Carter,” I say awkwardly.

Dillon gives me this look I can’t read, and says, “I can take care of myself.”

“Dude, I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just sorry you had to, or whatever.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my hoodie.

“It’s fine, bro, I know you’re doing this because of Kayleigh.” He shakes his head at my protest. “Seriously, it’s fine. I had fun. Carter’s mean, but he’s just insecure.”

I shuffle. “Yeah. Well…”

“I’ll tell Kayleigh you were friendly and all, but she’s gonna date who she wants. I can’t really control that.” Dillon’s gaze slides to the side a little when he adds, “and to be honest, dude, you’re not really her type. She likes tall, brainy guys.”

“I’m tall.”

He laughs, “You’re five-nine at most, just like me. Probably five-eight.”

“And I’m not a fucking idiot.”

Dillon sighs. “You know what I mean. Kayleigh dated valedictorians in high school.”

Most of me wants to get mad, but there’s no better way to kill my chances with Kayleigh than to let my anger show now. For all I know, Dillon has been updating her the whole time on Snap or something. So I choose to pretend.

“All good, man. Just want to make sure you didn’t feel too weird,” I say with a shrug. “If I didn’t know Carter I wouldn’t have gone, so. You know.”

Dillon chuckles like he can see right through me. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in lab, I guess.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

We part ways, and I’m suddenly in a better mood not having to babysit him anymore.

If I could have it my way, that would have been our last real conversation. Dillon clearly doesn’t like me, and I have enough friends already. The thing is, we’re still lab partners, and so every Tuesday and Thursday we have to get along enough to complete assignments. It’s not like we have to meet outside lab, so it’s fine. I just have to be nice enough that I don’t get a reputation as a homophobe, just in case Kayleigh’s getting reports.

 

When my phone dings later in the semester I expect it to be anyone but Dillon.

What’s going on tonight? I need to be around people.

He’s using the school messaging system. I don’t know whether it’s funny or annoying that he uses proper English. I reply, TMP toga party. Gonna b fking cold with a snowflake for emphasis. Then, after thinking about it for a second, I add, im going to up psi. Just drinks nothing official

He can come if he wants to or not. Like he said, Dillon can take care of his own fucking self.

By the time he shows up I’m one drink past buzzed and I’ve gotten to second base already with some toga party escapee who told me tequila makes her horny as fuck. Dillon’s eyes are red and he looks upset when he walks in. My guess is stoned and in the paranoid stage. Like, I could get up and be all friendly, but I’m trying to hide a half chub while what’s-her-face gets us more punch. So I just nod and don’t stop him from sitting on the other end of the raggedy couch. 

“Hey,” Dillon says over the noise. He has a cup in his hands, so maybe this isn’t his first stop of the night. That would be helpful.

“Hey,” I say back. “Do you know anybody else here?” At Dillon’s puzzled look I explain, “I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m waiting on a girl to come back, and then we might, uh, disappear for a little bit.”

Maybe if I was sober I could read the, like, forty different facial expressions that pass over Dillon’s face, but not tonight.

He finally says, “Okay.”

And just in case the main expression I saw was confusion, I say, “She’s getting us punch, but you can have mine, because we’re definitely going to head upstairs. You might want to find somebody else to talk to.”

Again the fucking parade of emotions, only to settle on totally neutral. I’m not a fucking mindreader. And can I get a little credit for giving him a head’s up? The guy fucking invited himself.

Dillon’s eyes kind of slide to the side, like when he told me I wasn’t Kayleigh’s type. “I’ll be fine for, what? A minute? Two, if she’s lucky?”

“I don’t get any fucking complaints,” I say, getting angry.

“Of course you don’t,” he replies with a shrug, “because girls don’t tell guys that stuff to their faces.”

“How would you fucking know? Or let me guess: all your friends are girls. Classic gay shit.” Even as the words leave my mouth I feel a little guilty. Aaron would have slapped me upside the head for talking to him like that.

Dillon looks pissed now, too. He points a finger at me, and says, “Fine. Here’s how I can tell you suck in bed. You aren’t the hottest guy on campus—not even top ten—but you act like you’re God’s gift to women way out of your league. You have a nice body, I’ll give you that, but I only know that because I can’t remember the last time I saw you outside of class with a shirt on. That tells me,” his tone gets mean, “you’re thinking about you, not your partner. I’d bet money that you don’t jack off to porn. You jack off while looking at your own dick. And I bet that when you’re with a girl, you’re always perpendicular to her so that you can watch your abs flex and your cock fuck her. I’ll bet you think that’s like, the hottest thing ever.”

“All guys watch themselves some,” I respond. “It’s not like you don’t.” It’s a lame defense, but I’m kind of drunk and I just don’t get why Dillon is being such a jackass. Why do I need to know I’m not the hottest guy on campus?

He points his cup at me. “I don’t, because I like to focus on my partner when I fuck.”

I know that Dillon is trying to make a point, but a part of me is curious by what exactly he means. Does he, like, always look into the other dude’s eyes? I thought gay guys did it doggy style. Maybe his back is super flexible, and Dillon can twist around to see behind him. Or is he on top?

The girl, whose name starts with an A for sure, comes back with drinks and gets straight into my lap. She’s drunk, I’m drunk, and Dillon’s just being a fucking bummer. Just to show Dillon that I’m actually not shitty with women, I only kiss her for a little bit before I say, “Oh, sorry, This is Dillon. We’re in lab together.”

She leans across me, giggling a little, and shakes Dillon’s hand like it’s a goddam business meeting. “I’m Abbie. With an i-e.”

Dillon looks at her like he looks at me when I can’t understand an assignment. “Hi Abbie,” he greets her. “You doing okay tonight?”

“I am now,” she replies, holding up her cup. “I didn’t get you one, but do you want it? It’s Hawaiian punch, pineapple vodka, blue something, and triple sec. It tastes like juice!”

Dillon accepts her offer, and I try to pull her focus back to me. She’s soft, her lip gloss tastes like strawberry, and her tits are perfect handfuls. If Dillon’s pouty ass wasn’t sitting there, this would have been a successful night for me already. But instead I’m half watching who all he’s saying hi to. He doesn’t just know me, which is maybe why he chose this over the toga party. Or does Dillon know people because of playing All State, other guys who quit because it stopped being fun?

Abbie-with-an-i-e wiggles on my lap. “You’re not paying attention to me,” she pouts.

I put my cup down. “I am.”

“Girls aren’t supposed to date guys like you,” she says. Dillon rolls his eyes.

I put my hand on Abbie’s hips. “Then what are you supposed to do with guys like me?”

She giggles, and that’s the only opening I need to pull her mouth to mine. Abbie is clearly hot for me, which, like, whatever, but it’s just satisfying to prove to that asshole that I’m not a shitty fuck. If I were, would hot chicks be all over me? 

Dillon is watching us. Says I don’t crack the top ten hottest guys but can’t take his eyes off me. Fucking pervert probably gets off seeing me make out with her, imagining himself in Abbie’s place. Like, I’ll bet he thinks about me when he jacks off, like all the times he’s seen me at the gym, when he’s running around doing pull-ups and shit while he’s been trying to look up my shorts in the mirror. Or when we’re in lab together and our arms touch, and he’s turned the fuck on by, like, how warm our skin is on contact even though there’s a goddam cadaver in front of us.

“Hey, you can’t do that in front of people,” Abbie says into my mouth, and I realize I’m like, grinding her on me real hard.

So I stand up. “Then I’ll do it in private,” I say, helping Abbie stand. She squeals a little bit when I pull her upstairs. 

I don’t even take her clothes off. My dick’s out, her panties hit the floor, and I roll on a condom before she has time to say, “I forgot your name.” Abbie’s one of those girls who has to say something with each, like thrust. An ooh or ah or oh yeah, or whatever, it’s like, please shut up a little because this isn’t my room. But mm, mm, that’s some warm and welcoming pussy. Judgmental Dillon is probably still downstairs, wishing it were him. Seriously, why won’t he leave me alone if he doesn’t want me to fuck him?

“It’s too hard,” Abbie whines.

“Shit, sorry.”

She lays a sloppy kiss on almost my lips. “S’cool, just, like, go a little slower.”

Dillon isn’t there when I go downstairs. Whiny prick. Probably jealous. Or went to find some other guy.

Weird enough, I actually catch up to him about halfway back to the dorms. “Calling it a night?” I ask. Dillon flips me off and keeps walking, but I jog after him. A good buzz and just-been-fucked energy is making me feel way nicer than before, so I explain myself. “Sorry, bro. Pussy called.”

Dillon gives me this cold, cold look over his shoulder. “For three minutes. Congratulations.”

“I made ‘er come quick,” I say. I’m kind of joking, but what I’d like to do is shove him off the sidewalk. I can’t do that, though, because he’s gay and I have to be careful. It was longer than three minutes, though. Dillon makes this “yuck” noise and walks faster.

“What do you want from me?”

He whirls around, nearly falling—is Dillon drunk?—and throws his hands up. “I don’t even know! I just want you to be…different.”

Different? “What the fuck, man?”

“Just stop being so insensitive to everybody.”

I poke him in the shoulder. Lightly, though, so I can’t get in trouble. “Maybe you need to stop being so damn sensitive.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!”

Dillon shouts back, “No, fuck you! You don’t know a goddam thing about me or my life, so you can take whatever you think I’m mad about and shove it up your ass, because that’s not it!”

“Then what is it?” I ask, throwing my arms out dramatically in a way that almost sends me stumbling.

“My boyfriend dumped me yesterday, and then I found out that he has been cheating on me since I got here. The entire fucking semester!” Dillon rages. At least it’s not about me. “The gay community here is miniscule, and the bastard still found a way to sleep around, which means that a ton of people who I thought were my friends knew! The whole fucking time! And nobody told me; I had to find out. Like, it’s not polyamory, or ethical non-monogamy, or an open relationship if your boyfriend tells you to your face that you’re exclusive. Then I had to tell Cris, the only other person who was unaware, that our shitty boyfriends were fucking each other. But he’s not over his high school ex anyway so it’s just me hurting. That sucks, okay?”

“So go fuck someone and get over it.” Even as it leaves my mouth I know it’s not the right thing to say. Dillon had a boyfriend this whole time? I may have had him wrong, which makes me feel kinda guilty for thinking he was like a pussy hound or something. Cock hound, I mean. Ass hound.

Dillon looks like he’s about to cry, seriously. “I’m not like you, okay? I really liked him, and I thought things were going—you have no idea what that’s like, do you.” It’s not a real question. “You’ve never put yourself out there. You don’t fucking know how.”

What I don’t fucking know is how to react right now. Am I supposed to, like, hug him or something? “Hey, dude—”

“No,” he interrupts. He even flips his hand up between us, which is the gayest thing I’ve ever seen him do. “I don’t know why I bothered. I came here hoping that you’re just be a fucking friend instead of trying to prove how macho you are.”

I shuffle my feet. I wasn’t not being his friend. Carter wouldn’t ever have gotten upset at me like this. LeAndre hadn’t either. Actually, the only friend who had yelled at me in the last ten years was Aaron. Maybe it’s a gay thing. It didn’t feel good then, and it actually feels worse now. “Come on, man, I didn’t mean it.”

Dillon’s blue eyes narrow. “The problem is that you do mean it, Jay. All that offhand shit about fucking somebody to get over so someone else, being too good for relationships, just playing the game for pussy…you mean it, because your cromagnon brain can’t wrap around the idea of people interacting with even a hint of sincerity, or, I don’t know, emotional investment! If you were smarter I’d think you were a sociopath, but for now I’ll just call you a stupid fucking asshole.”

Oh. My. God. The fuck? It’s like, I’m trying to be nice to him, and Dillon just throws it back in my face. I can’t hit him, but holy shit I am ready to punch him right in his jaw.

“Don’t call me stupid,” I manage to say. “Stop calling me that.”

Dillon turns to walk away.

“I fucking serious, bruh,” I say, trying to sound threatening. This used to be easy for me. Like, eight months ago a Dillon-type wouldn’t have tried to step to me like this.

He looks back without slowing down. “Do your own work from now on. I’m not carrying you in class anymore.”

Dillon doesn’t say a damn thing to me during lab on Tuesday, which is just as well. Actually, maybe not so well, because we’re supposed to figure out how one of the cadavers died, and I get it totally wrong. Dillon figured it out super fast, and then just sat and played on his phone while I poked around the dead guy’s chest cavity. Cardiac arrest. Did not get that, even though his heart was four times the normal size.

Am I really that dumb?

A small part of me is like, don’t take it so hard; Dillon was just as drunk as I was. Then I get called into three different professor’s offices. “You need to study.” “This isn’t high school.” “You need to apply yourself.” “You’re wasting your parents’ money like this.” “Are you taking this seriously?” I’m only taking fifteen hours this semester. Freshman Writing, Human Biology, and Statistics were supposed to be blow off classes. I actually tried in Macroeconomics and Spanish. I should have gotten at least a C if I had studied, right?

“How’d you do on the Bio quiz?” I ask Carter when I see him at lunch.

He raises both his middle fingers. “B-minus for an hour of cramming. Fuck yeah, motherfucker! You?”

I’m going to shoot somebody. “Fifteen minutes before class got me a D,” I lie. I’d forgotten we had a quiz at all. Seriously, am I stupid? There’s a sick feeling in my gut. Studying can be helped, but dumb is dumb. My ACL is healing well, but I’m still going to be a year behind for football, and with a bad GPA my chance of transferring to a D1 school is shot. If I’m really not smart and I can’t play then I need a backup plan for this college shit. I gotta, like, start flipping burgers and work my way up the ladder. My dad’s gonna kill me.

“Coming out tonight?” Carter asks, and I come back to the present.

“Nah, I got to study,” I say, and add like it’s no big deal, “I’m flunking four classes, so I gotta get my grades up.”

Carter actually laughs. “Holy shit, man! How’d that happen so fast?”

“What do you think?” I reply with a grin. Why am I smiling? This isn’t a joke. This isn’t funny at all. “Too much time chasing pussy.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna fucking study, duh.” I shake my head. “From now ’till the end of the year.”

Carter claps me on the shoulder with mock sympathy. “The pussy will still be there when it’s over.”

“I hear that.”

He puts his fingers together like he’s describing a fine wine. “It will be, how do you say, matured. Ripe, and ready to be plucked.”

I laugh. “A fine vintage from the early twenty-first century, perhaps of the Tri-Delt region, will be just the ticket.” I sound fucking ridiculous. “But I gotta figure out how to raise this fuckin’ GPA in the meantime. Want to help me in Bio?”

Carter shoulders his backpack as he stands from our table. “Bruh. Find the hottest girl in each of your classes and ask her to be your study buddy,” he says like it should be obvious. “Two birds with one stone.”

It’s not a bad idea, but a lot of the hottest girls in my classes are mad at me for—if I’m honest while I’m feeling down on myself already—good reasons. I try a couple of them, just in case. Nothing too obvious. “Hey, I’m tryna tear up these midterms. Wanna study together?” Taryn straight up tells me that I shouldn’t be allowed to be near women before I get sensitivity training. This day fucking sucks.

And here’s the thing: I know who that leaves me. Not my actual friends. I would rather flunk out than ever ask them for help. Like, look at how fast Carter ducked outta there. Plus, I got a reputation to uphold, you know? DIllion isn’t even the first gay guy I’ve had to apologize to. Sure, I didn’t know Aaron was queer when he called me out for being a bully last spring, but at least it makes sense why he was so protective of Viera. What I mean is that I’ve had that horrible feeling of eating fucking crow, and I know I can do it, and I know that wanting to crawl into a hole goes away eventually. That’s maturity, baby.

The next day I find Dillon in the library, of course. He’s with fucking Viera, who notices me first and nudges Dillon to look up. I thought all his friends betrayed him by not telling him about the cheating boyfriend, but maybe…oh, he told me Crispin was the other victim…this really fucks with my plan, but I don’t have a backup, so I dive in.

“What are you listening to?” I ask as my opener.

Dillon pulls his earbuds out with a disgusted look that nearly shrivels my spine. “Black Pumas.” He says it like a challenge.

“Oh, I like ‘Colors’ a lot,” I say, because I don’t just listen to white artists, okay? Nevermind that my one black friend introduced me to them. “Can I apologize to you real quick?”

The surprise on his face is worth the direct approach. “Oh…okay?”

I’ve already sat myself next to Crispin across from him. “This is gonna be uncomfortable, so just, like, bear with me.” It’s what the chatbot advised and, unlike with all my essays this year, I took the time to tweak the script so it sounds like me. “I’m really sorry I was such an asshole to you on Saturday. Yes, I was already drunk and on a mission, but that’s not a good excuse.”

Dillon’s expression barely changes, but Crispin’s eyebrows have shot nearly off his head as he glances between us. This could actually be good.

“Viera can cosign that I don’t have the best track record with like, thinking before I act,” I say like I regret it, then turn to the little queer kid in question. “Like, I was a total fuckwad to you in high school, right?”

“Um, pretty much,” Crispin replies.

“And I don’t expect us to ever be friends or anything,” I say quickly, just in case he’s about to make one of his sarcastic little comments. “All that was peak, like, gut-reaction shit.”

“And your gut is mean,” Crispin mutters.

Dammit, now I gotta apologize to this little asshole, too? Fine. “Yeah, and that sucks. I have a lot of—what is the word for it? Reverse education or something?”

“Unlearning,” Dillon suggests quietly.

“Unlearning to do. Yeah. Which I know is my responsibility. It’s slow going, because like you both have told me, my brian don’t work so good.”

The self-deprecation works; Dillon’s expression softens. “Jay, I didn’t mean that.”

I press on. “Nah, you were right. I’m desperately trying to find a study buddy, or a tutor or something, because I am close to failing my way out of college.” Here’s where Crispin actually comes in handy, because I turn to him. “I’d fucking pay at this point. Are you in Freshman Writing this semester? Or Macroeconomics? Statistics?”

“No,” he says shortly. Little shit probably tested out of his entire first year.

I turn back to Dillon. “Are you?” I already know the answer.

“I have Writing with Dr. Stadler and Stat with Valero,” he says, sounding wary.

Now I pretend to be surprised. “Wait, seriously? Sorry, this was not my actual plan here,” I lie easily, “but is there any way that you could help me study? Like, I will be your little fucking minion for the rest of the semester. For the year.”

Dillon leans back in his chair. “Do you remember the last thing I said to you on Saturday?”

“That you weren’t going to carry me anymore,” I quote him, trying not to get mad all over again. “And I swear to God you won’t be carrying me. It’ll be, like, accountability. I will both beg and pay you.”

Now Viera stands up with one of his little huffs. “Take his money,” he advises Dillon. “It’s reparations.”

“What?” I ask, but Crispin walks away. Because I need to show growth I don’t flip him off.  Okay then, I guess he’s done. What a cunt.

Dillon doesn’t look happy, exactly, but he doesn’t go anywhere.

“Dude, come on,” I finally say. “I’m sorry. Really.”

His eyes narrow. “I’m over it already.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you?” I ask again, my voice sliding playfully. I give him a knowing look, and Dillon’s stony face cracks. He gives me a reluctant smile and nods.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Really good, actually, because I’m going to fail this test if I don’t get help soon.

Kayleigh struts up then, throwing a friendly arm around Dillon. “Hey, boo,” she says, ignoring me, “you ready for Sociology?”

He squeezes her back and says, “Yeah, hang on. Jay, let me get your number so I can text you when I’m free. The school app has been eating my messages.”

Kayleigh raises her eyebrows gracefully, finally looking at me. 

“Yeah same.” I hand over my phone. “Seriously, thanks so much. And gimme your socials.”

“Fuck no!” Dillon laughs, “I don’t want you looking me up!”

“Why not!?”

“Because I’m your tutor, not your bro.”

Kayleigh pulls him away and I want to make a smart ass comeback so goddam bad but I want to look good in front of Kayleigh more.

 

It only takes, like, fifteen minutes to find Dillon’s accounts. Kayleigh’s profiles are all private, but she’s friends with Ellie who’s friends with Atsuko who I hooked with at the beginning of the year. I feel like a fucking detective when I find the right Dillon and his curly-headed profile pops up. It’s nothing incredible; lots of group photos, the only mirror selfies are silly costumes, all the videos are inside jokes. He likes hiking, he’s close to his siblings, and he misses the family cat. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I ask him if he’s been home to see Nugget lately. But then I see him in a shot with the LBTQIA+ Alliance and his arm is around this one dude’s hip, who’s the only one not tagged in the picture.

That’s gotta be the cheating ex. Okay, now I fucking have to find this guy. Takes me a little longer because the only other person in the group I know is Crispin, who blocked every account I have. But finally I find him. Marcus aka OnTheMarc1818 is exactly the kind of gym selfie-taking narcissist you’d have to be to cheat on a nice guy like Dillon. He’s already got a bunch of pictures with the new guy, but he didn’t even bother to delete any of the stuff from when he was with Dillon. Maybe I found his finsta, because he hasn’t tagged anyone. (I’m a fucking genius.)

Then I scroll down enough to find a picture of Marcus and Dillon kissing and throw my phone down.

Holy shit.

I know I shouldn’t look at it again; Dillon would be pissed. But if I tell him how to find an account like this, so that he knows if the next guy is a piece of shit, then maybe…I pick up the phone. I’ve seen two guys kiss before. Maybe Aaron and Crispin were the first two guys I’d seen in person, but even Hallmark lets gay guys kiss now—I fucking made out with Brantley, even if he doesn’t remember it and I barely do. It’s not a big deal. But the feeling in my stomach, like the nerves I used to get before games, doesn’t go away.

It’s a regular old, like, a we’re-at-a-picnic photo. They’re on a blanket, Dillon looks like he’s going to laugh even if his eyes are closed, and Marcus is looking at the camera. Smarmy. I’m sure OnTheMarc1818 here posted this one because neither of them look as weird as most people do with their faces mashed together. Staged. So fucking cringe.

I scroll further down. I really shouldn’t watch any of the videos. It’s fine, though, because there’s nothing sexual or romantic in any of the others. Dillon has his shirt off in one of them, but it’s with a bunch of people at the lake. And he just kind of runs past; I had to pause to make sure it was him. He wears his tight workout gear in the gym. So I already knew he had that body, though I’m a little surprised he doesn’t shave his chest. He’s filled out a little more since the beginning of the semester.

Swiping out of the app in a hurry, I turn on music as though it will override the images filling my brain. No need to think about Dillon kissing his ex. He’s going to tutor me. I got what I wanted, and it didn’t even take that much begging.

I shouldn’t have poked around that Marcus guy’s socials. Then again, it makes me feel good that I’m better looking than that piece of shit. And if Dillon ever asks, I can show him how to play detective for his future boyfriends. So it’s not even a big deal.

It’s whatever.

It’s fine.

I manage to not bring it up when Dillon finally sets up a tutoring session. Well, kind of. He said I wasn’t his bro, which feels bad. The same chatbot that suggested I apologize with specifics also said I should ask Dillon follow up questions about shit he’s already brought up. It steered me right the last time, so after a full hour of being a loyal study dog I try out one of the friendship-building tactics.

“You and Viera are still friends, huh? Is that weird in the, you know, queer community here?”

Dillon looks at me like I grew a second head. “Cris is the only other one who didn’t know.”

“Yeah, you said. No, I just mean, like…who do you, like, date? If you’re mad at everyone.” I’m showing compassion and an interest in his life. Good job, me.

“It’s not the first thing on my mind, which is maybe why my grades are better than yours,” Dillon retorts.

“My friend Aaron chose the only out gay guy in the whole school, even though he was on the football team and probably could have, like, hooked up with anybody. But I guess that little fairy was the best option,” I explain. “I’m just wondering if he and you were in the same boat. But you’re not dating Viera, right?”

“No, and don’t call him a fairy.”

“Sorry.” Good for me for apologizing in the moment. “But seriously, there has to be another option. Somebody less girly.”

 “Still rude. You’d think that if Aaron was such a good friend that you’d try to be nice to his boyfriend,” Dillon comments sharply.

“He just irritated me, that he was so—” I mimic Crispin’s hand movements.

“Okay, I get it, stop.” Dillon shakes his head. “God, Jay, sometimes you don’t seem like a real human being. You’re more like a character out of some anti-bullying PSA.”

“The hell?” What a shitty thing to say. 

He ticks my sins off his fingers. “You’ve been an actual, physical bully. You use homophobic slurs. Even though one of your best friends came out, you discriminate more against the guy who’s more femme and non-white. Hand me the book.”

I do as Dillon asks, but I have to defend myself. “He was a genuine prick to me, though! Like, we had a lot of classes together, and every time I got something wrong, fucking Crispin would make fun of me.”

Dillon’s whole vibe gets a little nicer.

“Then, if I got something right, there’d come his fucking comment, something about how ‘it speaks!’ or compare me to one of those dogs that presses buttons to talk.”

“So it’s not that he’s gay, it’s that you don’t like his personality,” Dillon clarifies. “That’s okay.”

Now I can’t hide my relief. “Seriously?”

“Yeah! Like, if you can seriously not get along with someone without bringing their sexuality into it at all, that’s not homophobic.”

I think on it for a second. “Maybe I’m a little homophobic.”

Dillon laughs, like belly laughs, at my realization. “Now that you know, you can do better.” 

“I’m dumb as shit and a homophobe,” I groan. “This is a fucking bummer.”

“I can help you study,” Dillon promises, “but you gotta do the work on that other stuff.”

“Hey, at least I’m not racist, right?”

“Well…” and Dillon’s gaze slides away again, and I’m not sure if I’m laughing or crying.

“I gotta read some books,” I groan. 

“You can do this, man. The Black Student Union and the LGBTQIA+ Alliance both have lending libraries.”

I wonder a little bit if Kayleigh would notice me borrowing stuff. 

 

I’m home for Thanksgiving and leaving the grocery store because my mom forgot to get me Nerds Gummy Clusters.

It takes a second to recognize him because I guess I didn’t expect to see someone going to school so far away, but one of my high school buddies is walking in as I’m walking out.

“Aaron!”

His bright brown eyes shine. “Oh my god, hey!”

I pull him into a hug; I don’t even care.  I haven’t seen Aaron since the last graduation party (LeAndre’s, I think) and he’s grown a beard and filled out in a way that looks good on him. “Holy shit, man! What are you doing home?”

“Thanksgiving, duh,” he answers. Then he shrugs, looks sad for a second, and goes, “My folks are letting me come to lunch, so…”

Fuck. I forgot that Aaron’s parents basically told him to quit being gay. I don’t have anything to say to that, so I change the subject.

“Did you see LeAndre on the Gatorade ad? Isn’t that fucked up? Guy never took a picture in high school. Now he’s a fuckin’ model.”

Aaron grins. “He does have crazy bone structure. Like, nobody in real life should be that hot. We can’t handle it. We spend all our time trying to be LeAndre.”

I laugh. I never understood why Aaron wasn’t more popular. I mean, I know that chicks supposedly have better gaydar than dudes, but that never stopped a determined cheerleader. B-E Aggressive, after all. He’s funny, he was always really smart, and he looks like an actor who always plays the hero’s smartass best friend.

“So how you been?”

He just grins. “You probably don’t want to hear it.”

I fold my arms. “Dude, give me some credit. My lab partner is gay.”

“Good for you,” Aaron says back, but he does that thing where the side of his mouth pulls a little, like he’s trying not to smile. Come to think of it, he did that way more last year than in the whole time I’ve known him. Ugh, that fucking Viera .

“So, what,” I ask, “you get drafted onto the Berkley team after all?”

A wide, proud grin appears on my friend’s face. “No, Crispin and I are together. Back together.”

“Ugh.”

“I told you, you didn’t want to hear it.”

I wave a hand. “It’s not that he’s a dude, dude. It’s that it’s fucking Crispin goddam Viera.”

Aaron narrows his eyes. “Well, I feel like a motherfucking adult for having resolved our distance issues and feelings. So, congratulate me.”

I laugh. “Congratulations, motherfucker. Are you still staying with his folks?”

“Yeah. It’s weird how cool they are with me.”

“Probably because their own kid is such , a f—” I reword when Aaron gives me a warning look “—fierce queen.”

He socks me in the shoulder. “Did your gay lab partner teach you that?”

“Yes. And I’m sorry you had to catch me; I’ve been doing some reading.”

“Okay, you can’t sound so smug about it,” Aaron laughs at me.

I shove him lightly. “Shut up, white boy.”

“You shut up, white boy!”

“I’m trying to be understanding, here. I just don’t, like…I don’t fucking get it. When did you—” I lower my voice as other people pass us, “like, when did  you even know? Like, toddler age?”

Aaron shakes his head. “Naw, man. For me it was maybe in the beginning of seventh grade. Puberty.”

None of us had noticed? Damn. “But how, even? Was it like, you were suddenly all about banging dudes?”

He laughs. “Certain dudes, yeah. I just started noticing things about them that I hadn’t before, like the way they stood, or smelled. Maybe other guys notice that stuff, but…I don’t know, it turned into crushes. Like I wanted to be around that person all the time, and make him laugh, and make him admire me, and think I was hot.” He snaps his long fingers. “That’s probably it, actually. When I realized that I wanted a guy to think I was hot, it was like, yeah. I’m definitely gay.”

That was it? “Pfft. If you’re hot enough, everyone will want to get in your pants.”

“I’m picky,” my buddy says with a grin.

I groan, “Viera is you being picky?”

Aaron looks smug. “I know you think it’s gross, but Crispin is my type.”

“He’s so weird, though!”

“Exactly.”

I gesture to the west. “Aren’t there small, weird, mean gays in California? Isn’t that where they, like, make them?”

“Sure, but…I don’t know, man.” Aaron shrugs happily. “There’s nobody like him, you know?”

I make a disgusted face. Thank god there isn’t. One is too fucking many. “But how do you like a guy? How does it even happen?”

Aaron laughs like I just asked him the meaning of life. “I don’t know, dumbass. Same way with you and a girl, probably. I think about him all the time. Being around him always feels great. I miss him. I text him about dumb stuff. I call him just to hear him talk; we do our homework together. I care about whether he’s happy or not, and if I can help make him happier. The usual shit.” Aaron pauses and looks up to the ceiling like he does when he’s thinking. “Well, that could just be friendship, probably. Wanting to have sex with him really pushes it into the liking column, probably. Shit, I don’t know.”

I shake my head sadly. “Man, you are pussy whipped. Calling just to hear him talk?”

He thinks about it for a second. “Ass-pussy whipped.”

“You are fuckin’ nasty,” I laugh. “Who the fuck calls it an ass-pussy?”

“I call it what it is,” Aaron responds with a grin. “Because your boy here fucks.”

“We’re all fucking, dipshit,” I say, mostly because it’s the kind of response he expects out of me. Really though, when was the last time I felt that way about anyone? I’ve never been the called-to-say-hey type, and in high school it was easy to just stop by each other’s house. I texted LeAndre about dumb shit. Him, my girlfriends, Aaron, Carter—I cared about whether they were happy or not, but I hadn’t felt any differently about the girls than the guys. The girls were more mysterious, more fun to chase, and the sex part was fuckin’ great, but…Maybe that just meant I hadn’t fallen hard yet, like, not in love. Lately, though, it’s like there just aren’t any girls worth pursuing.

“So is this lab partner Dillon?” Aaron interrupted my thoughts. 

Fucking Viera! 

“Yeah.” You know what? I’ll just fucking say it. “Apparently we met when he walked in on me and his roommate drunk, making out.”

Aaron’s brown eyes go wide, and then he starts laughing so hard he doubles over. “Oh my god, Jay.”

“Man is ugly as fuck, so I’m glad I don’t remember anything except them opening the door.”

He laughs harder.

“I would have forgotten, except Valerie, the girl we were trying to get with—so hot, by the way, tig ole’ biddies and a fat ass—was like, ‘Where did you guys go?’ the next day, and I just told her I blacked out.” Aaron holds his gut like he’s about to pee himself, so I add, “And he must be a fucking slobber-er, because when I woke up I could smell his mouth, like, all over my face. I was so confused until I remembered. He’d been drinking those banana buzz ball things. It was fucking disgusting.”

“Oh, man.” Aaron wipes his eyes. “Sweet karma.”

“What?”

“Remember how you didn’t let it go when I got drunk and made out with Molly? Still gay, the whole time, and there I was making out with a girl. You never let me live it down.”

I spread my hands in protest . “But Molly was hot!”

“Still a girl.”

Dillon had said he’d made out with girls, too. “Not the same! This was like if you had made out with Jenny Gray. Or no, Shauna Oldman.”

Aaron shudders. “Dear god.”

“Exactly.” I grin and fold my arms. “I would have thought Viera told you already. He and Dillon are super tight.”

“Oh, he did,” Aaron assures me, “but I couldn’t really believe it.”

See, that’s real friend shit. Heard a rumor and waited to hear from me directly. I wish he could have gone to school with me and Carter instead of fucking Viera. That would have been so much fun. Then again, LeAndre told me that Aaron’s parents were ready to cut him off completely, but his older brother stepped in and was like, “Let Aaron come to school with me or you’ll never see me again, either.” So it had to be Berkley.

For me it was either be a legacy at my parents’ college or play at JuCo until I could get my grades up, so…

Aaron suddenly holds up his phone with an apologetic look, saying “Hey, sorry, it’s awesome to catch up but I gotta get back before the elder Vieras send out a search party. They gave me a list.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, shit, I’ll let you get to it. But stay on the radar, okay?”

“You go it,” he says with a little salute.

“Um, also,” I say awkwardly, “I know my folks aren’t any, like, better about the whole, uh, inclusion, um, like, inclusivity thing, but…if you ever need another place to crash then I got your back.”

“Thanks, man,” Aaron says in surprise.

I add quickly, “Or anything. Seriously. Gimme a shout and I’m there, bruh.”

“Sure.”

Aaron and I part ways with another quick bro hug. You may not believe me, but I swear I don’t think about how I’m gonna bring up supporting my best gay friend to my judgy gay peer tutor until I’m driving back on Sunday. 

 

“I am too fucking dumb for this,” I groan.

Dillon puts his pen down. “Have you ever been tested for ADHD?”

“Nah, my mom wouldn’t let me because she said that Ritalin makes you bipolar.”

Dillon is silent.

“Yeah, she has some theories,” I explain sheepishly. “My mom isn’t dumb! It’s just…whatever.”

Ugh, Dillon looks so goddam sympathetic. “I don’t really think you’re stupid, Jay. I think nobody taught you how to learn in a system that isn’t built for you. Wait, why are you standing up?”

I hadn’t realized I was out of my seat. I sit. “What?”

“No, I was just saying that you probably learn differently.”

“Like a disability?”

“No, just like,” here Dillon sighs, and I can’t tell if it’s at me or not, “I’m not qualified to, like, diagnose you or anything, but…maybe you get distracted in tests because you’re bored.”

“Tests are boring, though.”

“Have you noticed I’ve turned all of our studying into games?”

“What? No.”

“Oh cool,” he says happily.

“You look so fucking pleased with yourself.”

Dillon laughs, “I am!”

I narrow my eyes. “If this has all been a project for one of your fucking ed classes, so help me God…”

“It’s not,” he swears, still chuckling. “I don’t know if it’s effective yet.”

Maybe I should be mad that he thinks he has me all figured out, but it’s kind of nice when Dillon isn’t scolding me. “You know what’s a great fuckin motivator? Rewards. Where’s my gold star? Where’s my pizza party?”

“I don’t have pizza money laying around, man,” he replies with a grin.

I poke him. “Gimme a treat!”

“Can you think of a treat that isn’t food or money? Like an experience?”

I give him my best the-fuck-you-talking-about face, and Dillon laughs.

“So for me, sometimes I get 15 minutes of mindless scrolling for every hour of studying,” he explains. He probably has time limits set on all his social media apps. Fucking goody two-shoes.

I pshaw. “I do that all the time. I need the extra—what’s it called?—outside motivation.”

“An extrinsic reward? Then I offer you this firm handshake.”

I knock his dumb hand away. “Give me an experience reward, then.”

Dillon thinks for a little bit. “I guess you can come to my room and we’ll watch a classic Bond film?” Then he adds, “I need to finish one for my seminar. So I’ll be taking notes and I might pause a lot.”

It’s not a good reward, but it’s not nothing and it keeps me out of Carter’s frat house. “Daniel Craig or no deal.”

“What? Ugh, fine.”
“What fucking seminar makes you watch James fucking Bond?”

“Intro to Gender in Film. I’m writing a paper contrasting American John Wayne, Dirty Harry masculinity to the British James Bond type.” Dillon cocks his head. “Actually, I could probably use you for a study in toxic—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I cut him off to stop any more insults, or worse, character traits that I need to fix. Working on the other stuff is hard enough, thank you very goddam much. “Fine, tell me when to show up. I want snacks, too.”

Now Dillon looks unimpressed. “Your treat is my company, no studying involved. Bring your own dang snacks. See you Thursday.”

 

It’s not like I’m excited for Thursday. Or for hanging out with Dillon in particular. Trying to raise my grades has been the only thing I can think about, or allow myself to think about, and that has meant no more hanging out with Carter at his frat. No more foam parties. No drunken fucks in someone else’s room. No beer pong. No getting high off someone else’s pen. I go to the gym, I see my friends in the cafeteria sometimes, and then I fucking study. This tiny town doesn’t have anything to do that isn’t drinking or stealing street signs, and even going to the one coffee shop means I’m only there to pull out a textbook. Okay, sometimes I want to be seen holding, like, Ibram X. Kendi, but to my credit I have been reading all that stuff. Hard to pretend if a girl takes the bait and asks me about it.

So for real, I’m not like, jumping for joy that Dillon is going to do Film Studies homework while I sit next to him. It’s not much different from watching shows and shit with the guys. But you gotta be nice to the guy who’s saving your ass academically, right? When I get myself some gummy clusters and a Mountain Dew, I also grab Sour Patch Kids and a Coke for Dillon because I’ve seen him with that combination a couple times. It’s polite and shit.

For a hot second I’m worried that I’ll run into Brantley. Probably should have thought about that before I showed up at their door. Technically it’s not that weird since everyone’s friends change some after the first week of school, but I super didn’t want to give him the chance to remember the failed threesome.

Dillon, even though he’s in his own room, is wearing real clothes when he opens the door. Nothing different from the usual jeans and shirt with real buttons, but still. Does he own sweats?

“‘Sup,” I greet him, tossing the candy at his chest. “Got you a present.”

For a hot second Dillon looks like he’s mad at the Sour Patch Kids, but then he smiles. Okay, good. Maybe he was trying not to be happy about it, but ha! Gotcha bitch! Another point for Jay Givens.

You can immediately tell who’s side is whose. Brantley has clothes and empty wrappers and shit all over the place. Dillon is a fucking stereotype, all tidy and with, like, lamps and everything. Art on the wall.

“Why is your bed so high?” I ask as he welcomes me in.

“So I can put my stuff underneath it.” Dillon hops on his bed and points to the other messy one. “You can sit on Brantley’s bed or his chair—the girls next door borrowed mine yesterday—but he’s pretty gross so I’d take the chair if I were you.”

I eye the rickety-looking seat. “Why does it have that brown stuff on it?”

Dillon looks at it for a second and shrugs. “I guess you can sit on my bed.”

“He’s fucking disgusting.”

He nods. “Sophomore year I’m getting a new roommate.”

“Good,” I grumble as I climb up the bed frame.

“I’ll pick a hot one so that if you accidentally make out with him you won’t regret it,” Dillon says.

“Fuck off!” I yell, but that’s fucking funny. 

We settle in with our backs against the wall to watch Casino Royale, Dillon occasionally taking notes. He asks me questions sometimes, like if I think that an American hero would be shown clambering all over the place like a gecko. Maybe, but eventually he’d just shoot the guy. Or if it’s cool to make up a cocktail and name it after the lady you’re flirting with. Fuck yeah, that’s slick as hell.

“That’s who I’d be, if I were a character,” I declare. “James Motherfucking Bond.”

Dillon laughs, “You’d have to have a fucked-up youth.”

“I still have time. Plus, look at the kind of pussy he pulls.” I say that, and immediately think, Whoops. Was that insensitive?

“You don’t have that kind of game,” Dillon scoffs.

“I got game coming outta my ass.”

Dillon makes a disbelieving noise. “Your game is old, son. You have, like, two moves.”

I send a pillow sailing toward his head. “Fuck you! You wouldn’t recognize my game, anyway.”

Sitting upright, Dillon argues, “I’ve seen you in action. You tease some poor girl, then you get all grope-y. She either allows it, or backs off and you do that douchey, ‘C’mon, baby’ thing.”

That is uncomfortably close to the truth, even if I wouldn’t call it “groping” or “‘douchey.” I give Dillon the finger. “It works, asswipe.”

“Sure, on idiots.”

“That’s sexist,” I say proudly. Now who’s the douche?

“No, I could do that, too,” Dillon replies, leaning over to shove my head. “If I had a thing for dumb guys.”

That makes me laugh. “Bullshit.”

“If it’s real game, it’ll work on anyone.” 

I snort. “It does. You just haven’t tried it.”

He scoots close to me. “Oh, so I should get up all in your space, like you do with girls, and then kiss you?”

The whole right side of my face feels hot. Is this how close I get to girls? Nah, I’m smoother than this.

I stay still. “Do it and see what happens.” Please don’t do it.

“Maybe I will,” Dillon says all low and silky as he leans in. 

“Go ahead.” I’ll sock him in the jaw. Anyway, he forgot to put a hand on the thigh, which is my go-to move.

“You’re shaking,” he almost whispers, all soft and gentle.

No I’m not. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Don’t be mad, baby.” Dillon drapes one arm around me. “Don’t be mad. It’s cute. Guys like that, guys like that.”

I’m seriously going to punch him now. “I don’t talk like that.”

“Except you totally do!”

“In this whole entire fucking world,” I retort, finally looking at him, “there is no one more full of sh—”

The rest is put on hold, because my brain has to process that a dude is kissing me. Like mouth-on-mouth, kissing me. And I’m sober.

“There!” Dillon says cheerfully as he pulls back. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

I shake my head because I literally have no words. It was, like, just—what?—I’m not sure…Did he seriously just kiss me? But then his mouth is on mine again.

Dillon smiles. “You looked like you could use one more. Let me know when the world starts ending, straight boy.”

“You gotta try harder than that,” I say, because I know how to be smooth.

So of course he comes back in for another one. And another, and then I feel his hand slide from my shoulder to the back of my neck, and then Dillon’s tongue is all up in my mouth. Like on my teeth, on my tongue, slipping between my lips, and even though it’s super weird to just kind of sit here while he kisses me, it’s like…he’s…not…a bad kisser. It’s about technique, is all. Mix up the tongue with some nibbling, don’t get sloppy outside the lips, get a hand in her hair, and tease just enough so that the girl starts getting a little hot and bothered. Or not the girl, if you’re Dillon and you’re gay. And it’s his hand in my hair while his other arm wraps around my back. I feel kind of small, like he’s protecting me, which is why this is a classic hold that girls really relax into. And I get it. He’s doing all the right things, so it’s good kissing, but his whiskers are rough on my lips.

I push him away. “Okay, that’s enough.” It takes all my self-control to keep my breathing even and my legs from sprinting out of the room. It’s not a big deal. I’m not a homophobe anymore. Dillon is a friend. He’s a friend who just put his face all over my face. Fuck. Holy fuck. Just watch the movie. Nothing is weird. Am I going to have whisker burn on my face? Holy shit.

Pay attention to the movie. For fuck’s sake. I wonder what Dillon is thinking. No, I don’t wonder. We should have watched Step Brothers. Why did Dillon do that? I don’t care; it doesn’t matter. It’d be like if he kissed a girl. Like, that’s what it was. That’s all it was. What if he tries it again? He won’t. Should I leave? I need a good excuse though. Is there homework I haven’t done yet? Probably, but I can’t think enough to remember what it is. I am so weirded out right now. Sure, I kissed him back, but I was proving a point. And now I have some, you know, data points on what it’s like to be on the receiving end of my very good flirtation techniques. It’s fine. It was a joke.

“Idiot,” Dillon says calmly.

I flip him off without taking my eyes off the screen. “That just proves how good my game is, asshole.”

Dillon laughs and sits back, and we pretend like nothing happened until the movie is over. Then we still pretend nothing happened when he helps me with Statistics. Except for how Dillon keeps giving me the side eye, and chuckling when I sock him in the shoulder. It could have ended there, but instead it all goes to shit a couple weeks later.

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