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Everyone in this story is 18+.

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Part 2

The first night was the hardest. After being denied any sort of release, freshly locked in this stupid cage, I struggled to fall asleep. I was so fucking horny. Even when I finally drifted off, I was eventually woken up by my body’s sad attempt at an erection. You don’t realize how often you get hard during the night until there’s a cage preventing it from happening. Over the course of the first night, I probably woke up three or four times to my dick straining in its cage.

Sunday morning, I woke up tired, groggy, and – unsurprisingly – horny. I sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and doing my best to ignore my dick. “Morning, Ryan,” I said.

“Good morning!” he replied. He clearly had a much better night than I did. “How’s the cage treating you?”

“Terrible,” I said.

“Aw, James. That’s too bad,” he teased. “You’ve still got six more days before you get another shot at freedom!”

My heart fluttered at that. Six more days… and even then, it was only a chance. I’d have to challenge him to another video game, knowing he outmatched me in every way. Even if I could beat him, there was no way I could last until next Saturday. I needed to strike another deal with him. One that he couldn’t say no to.

“What if we made a trade?” I asked. “Then would you unlock me sooner?”

He perked up at that. “I’m listening.”

“What if…” Fuck. I couldn’t believe I was saying this. “What if I sucked your dick again?”

His eyes lit up. The gears were turning. He knew I was desperate, and he knew he had me on the ropes. My heart sank as I realized I exposed my weakness in that moment. Sucking his dick wouldn’t be enough.

“Hmmm,” he said as he pretended to consider the offer. “I don’t know. You already sucked my dick last night. Doesn’t seem like much of a bargain for me. If that’s all you got, I don’t see a reason to unlock you sooner. I can just keep you horny until next week, beat you again, and claim a much better prize.” He grinned. “No, I don’t think so, James.”

“Then what?” I pleaded. “There must be something I can do.” My dick swelled in its prison, yearning for freedom. I took a deep breath. “Anything,” I whispered.

He smirked. It was a devilish grin, the kind that showed he was enjoying every second of my torment. “Anything?” he teased.

I nodded my head earnestly. Damn, I was desperate.

“Well…” he began. He was savoring the moment, letting my mind race with possibilities. “I’ve never fucked someone before,” he said flatly. He gently flipped the covers off him, revealing a huge boner hidden only by his loose pair of boxers.

Oh fuck. No way. No way could I let my roommate fuck me.

I considered the alternative. Six more days locked. Six more days without release. And then another competition, one that I was likely to lose. This was my only chance.

My cheeks were hot, turning bright pink before I even responded. “How would we do it?” I said softly.

His grin spread wide, turning into a huge smile across his face. “However you want,” he replied. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, facing me from across the room. His dick stood tall in his boxers, in total contrast to my locked one. “Bent over, on your back, doggy-style… as long as I get to fuck you, I don’t really care.”

“I need details,” I said nervously. “To iron it out. This is a one-time deal, Ryan. You get to fuck me once, then I get the key back. One for one.”

He nodded slowly, considering. “I get to cum inside you,” he added. “Then I’ll unlock you. Heck, I’ll even help you cum. But I still get to keep the key.”

My dick twitched at that. My roommate? Cumming inside me? Fucking was one thing, but… wow. I mulled it over, caught between my desire to be free and the humiliating idea of getting bred by Ryan.

There was something I was missing. I just knew it. I scanned every word, considered every angle. It seemed too straightforward. Then again, maybe he wasn’t trying to trick me. Maybe he just wanted to fuck, and that would be enough. “Okay,” I whispered. “Deal.”

“Excellent,” he said, hopping off the bed. He took his shirt off first, then dropped his boxers to the ground. His massive dick stood at full attention, surrounded by that huge, mouthwatering bush I was coming to love. “How do you want to do this?” he asked.

Leaving the choice to me should have spared me some dignity. In reality, it did the opposite. I was to choose how my roommate fucked me. The idea was laughable. Humiliating. I climbed out of my own bed, then stripped down. Naked except for the cage, I faced my bed then bent over so that my chest touched the mattress. My feet were still firmly on the ground, my head turned to one side. “Like this,” I said.

I heard Ryan’s footsteps approach as he crossed the room. I listened to him spit behind me, then stroke his huge cock. He spat once more, lubing up, ready to enter me. I took a deep breath.

Ryan touched the head of his dick against my hole. It was a foreign sensation; I’d never so much as fingered myself, and here I was about to take his monster of a cock. “Ready?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes,” I exhaled.

Then he pressed forward and pushed inside.

Part 3

My roommate pushed his spit-covered dick straight into my ass.

“Ohhh fuuuck!” I shouted. My hole opened around Ryan’s massive cock. It gripped him tightly, unaccustomed to the strange sensation. I’d never put anything inside me before, and now here he was, stretching me wide open.

“Dude, you gotta relax your hole,” Ryan said. “You’re way too fucking tight.” He pulled out and spat on his cock again. He had barely entered me, yet my hole twitched at the sudden removal. I could hear him stroking himself, lubing up before pushing back inside.

“O-okay,” I muttered. I stood with both feet on the ground, bent over, lying chest-first on my bed. I gripped the sheets, muscles tense. “Try again,” I told him.

Ryan pressed his cock against my hole. With some concentration I was able to relax, to stop tensing up so much. He sighed with satisfaction as he slipped in more easily this time. “There you go, James.”

I grunted in response. All of my mental energy was focused on the huge dick that felt like it was splitting me in half. How did anyone do this? My fists tightened around the sheets, searching for anything to hold onto.

My roommate pulled out again, but not all the way this time. As he dragged his dick out of me, it actually felt… good? He spat one more time for good measure, right where his dick met my hole. Then he pushed it back in.

“Mmm,” I moaned. It was involuntary. With a little more lubrication, his dick felt like it was gliding. I was still struggling with the sheer size, but there was also a feeling of pleasure that accompanied that struggle.

“That’s it, James. Take my big fucking dick.” He placed his hands on both cheeks, pushing me down into the mattress as he fucked me. He drew his dick out, then slid it back in. Long, steady strokes, again and again, getting me used to the sensation.

“Ohhh fuck, Ryan.” I buried my face in the blankets and moaned directly into them, muffling my voice, trying to hide my shame. Because the truth was, it felt really good.

“Fuuuck. You like this, don’t you?”

I nodded, my face still deep in the blankets. This was so humiliating.

Ryan pulled out once more, leaving me gaping. He kicked my feet out, spreading my legs wide. I felt so open, so exposed. My face burned from the embarrassment. Then he grabbed me by the balls, holding onto my caged dick.

“I’m so glad you got this thing,” he teased. “Who would’ve thought caging your dick would bring me so much pleasure?” He squeezed gently, causing me to gasp.

“Please fuck me,” I whispered.

He squeezed a little harder. “What was that?”

“Please fuck me!” I said again, lifting my face off the mattress. I glanced over my shoulder to see a huge grin on my roommate’s face.

Ryan dropped my caged dick. He spread my cheeks apart and spat directly at my hole. When he pushed his cock into me this time, it wasn’t a struggle at all.

“You feel so fucking good, dude. We should do this more often,” he said. He thrusted into me, lurching my body forward on the bed.

“Oh!” I yelped. Fuck, that felt good. Almost all the discomfort had faded, replaced by intense pleasure.

I had to remind myself that I wasn’t supposed to enjoy this. Getting fucked by my roommate was  a means to an end. He promised that if I let him fuck me – if I let him cum inside me – then he’d unlock me sooner. It was my only chance at freedom. The alternative was to wait a whole week, challenge him to another video game, and maybe win the key back.

He started going a bit faster, the full length of his dick sliding in and out of me. Every stroke brought more satisfaction, pounding away at the same spot over and over again, hitting deep inside me. And shamefully, I loved it.

“I’m getting close, bro.”

Oh fuck. “Cum in me,” I whispered.

“Ohhh fuck, I’m gonna blow.” Ryan pounded into me, ramming his huge dick into my ass at lighting speed. “I’m gonna cum, James! Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”

He slammed forward, shoving his cock inside. The weight of his body pressed me into the bed as he began to cum, his cock pulsing inside my hole.

“Yes!” I shouted despite myself. “Fuck yes!”

Ryan throbbed inside me, shooting his entire load deep into my ass. He held me there, pinned underneath him, until he was finished using my ass. I shuddered when he finally pulled out, leaving me loose and gaping.

“That was incredible,” he whispered.

My dick was so hard in its cage. I was so excited, so ready to get this thing off of me and finally jack off. It had only been one day, but it felt like an eternity to me. I rolled over on the bed, ass full of cum, desperate to be free again. “So, uhhh… is it time to unlock me now?”

He smiled. “Oh, right. Almost forgot about that.” Sweat was beading on his forehead. He wiped his hand across his brow, then walked over to his desk to retrieve the key. But when he turned around again, he was holding something else. A handful of ropes.

“What’s all that?” I asked.

His smile turned into a devilish grin. “You’ll see. Come here, take a seat.” He pulled the chair out from his desk and spun it in place.

“Okay,” I said. I stumbled over, then plopped down in the chair.

“Now… I said I’d help you cum. But I didn’t say how.” He stepped behind me, then grabbed both my hands. I was confused at first, but then I felt him wrap a piece of rope around my wrists.

“Wait-” I began.

But he had already moved on to my feet. He tied one ankle to the leg of the chair, then the other. A moment later, I was fully restrained, my dick rock-hard and threatening to bust out of the cage by sheer force.

“You said-”

Ryan quickly cut me off. “I said I’d unlock you, and I said I’d help you cum. I plan to do exactly that.” He flashed a smile, then teased me by dangling the key right before my eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s gonna be an amazing orgasm, I promise. And after that, you’re going right back in the cage.”

My heart plummeted straight into my stomach. How could I not have seen this?

He crouched down, then carefully unlocked the cage and removed it. My dick immediately sprung to life, growing to full size before he finished setting the cage aside. “Ready to get jerked off?” he asked.

I swallowed, then nodded.

He wrapped his hand around my hard dick. Clear liquid oozed out, running down the head and over his knuckles. Ryan wiped it up with a finger, then put it to my lips. “Open,” he ordered.

I did as he asked, tasting my own precum, sweet and sticky on my tongue.

Then he started stroking me. Slow and steady, rising and falling at a relaxed pace, building up pleasure gradually. I bit my lower lip, enjoying his gentle touch, loving the feeling of his grip on my penis. I pushed aside other emotions, focusing solely on this moment.

The stroking became faster. Then faster still. My breath caught as I realized I was far closer than I thought. His fist was a blur, jerking my cock until-

“Ryan, I- fuck!”

Before I could say more, my cock exploded. Thick ropes of creamy white shot out of me, landing on Ryan’s fist, running down his fingers. He kept going, jerking me off, watching my face with a huge grin.

By the time he was finished, my dick had already gone soft in his hand. He brushed his hand across my chest, wiping off the cum. Then he reached for the cage. I was in my own world, too satisfied from an incredible release to protest. Ryan grabbed my dick and slipped it back into the cage, then turned the key in the lock.

My dick safely locked away, he stood and admired his work. I sat there in the chair, tied in place, cock caged once more. I was covered in cum, both inside and out.

“What did you think of that?” he asked.

“Amazing,” I replied, breathless.

“Maybe next time you’ll be a little more explicit when you make a deal with me,” he teased. He bent over and pulled his underwear up, then threw on a shirt. Only once he was dressed did he begin to untie me.

“So… how long until I’m actually free of this thing?”

The look on his face said it all. A smirk that showed he loved this control over me, and he had no plans to give it up.  “Oh, you can kiss your freedom goodbye, James. But who knows? I might give you some time outside the cage here and there… if you earn it.”

The department I worked in had about 25 staff, but although I knew some were gay or lesbian, they all seemed too stuck up their own arses. Even at staff socials, they were too busy sucking up to the bosses to relax. 

Lance’s accountancy firm had seven employees, five accountants, a receptionist, and a 20-year-old apprentice, Sean. According to Lance, he was as cute as fuck, but gets dropped off every morning by his girlfriend. 

We’re were also in a WhatsApp group, but that was for organising Pride events. We didn’t meet any of them sexually. Our professions prohibit us joining hook-up sites. Meeting others didn’t happen as often as we would have liked, which made it all the more exciting, when we got lucky,

We had a drawer full of toys. I particularly liked my vibrating butt plug, that could be worked from a mobile phone. Having it buzzing on my prostate gave me great orgasms.

One evening, Lance’s apprentice, Sean, had a text from his girlfriend, saying that she couldn’t pick him up, so Lance offered him a lift and invited him in for coffee. I was caught red-handed, laid out on the sofa, with the butt plug going full tilt and wanking. Quickly, I tried to cover my embarrassment, but to no avail. Lance just laughed and said, “Look at the dirty fucker. If you weren’t here, I’d do something about it”. Sean’s mouth had dropped open, speechless. Gathering his thoughts, he said, “Don’t mind me, if I can watch”. Lance looked at me and dropped his trousers, stroking himself to attention. I turned over and knelt on the carpet, with my head in the seat of the sofa. Lance knelt behind me, removed the butt plug, and slipped into me. Sean had taken his dick out and was masturbating. Lance pumped hard, then pulled out and sat on the sofa. I lowered myself onto him and bounced. Sean’s eyes were transfixed. Lance put me on the carpet and fucked me to completion, cumming with a loud growl. Plopping out, I heard Sean ask if he could have a go. “Be my guest”, Lance replied. With his cock poking through his flies, he mounted me. The young stallion fucked like a machine (lucky girlfriend). “I need to get out of my clothes”. He stood up, stripped in seconds, and re-entered. Unbelievably, he kissed me, then fucked harder. “I’m cumming!”, he shouted, and delivered his load. I tossed a huge amount onto my chest. “Wow! Better than a butt plug”. He softened and dropped out. I licked him clean. “I never even get a blow job from my girlfriend, that was amazing”, he purred. After coffee, Lance dropped him home. Sean said he’d like to do it again, maybe stay the night. And so it happened, I had a text one Friday, saying that Sean was coming, and staying for the night. I finished early on Fridays, so I picked up some food and wine on the way. As soon as I got home, I douched and showered. They arrived about 5.30 and both kissed me, Sean squeezing my bum. He said he’d been thinking about it all day and was horny as fuck, so I led him to the bedroom. Lance followed. Sean let me undress him, kissing his young body. By the time his boxers came off, his 6.5″ cock was pointing to the stars, with a long hood. I had to taste it. He sat on the bed and I went down on him, playing with his low-hangers. You’ll make me cum”, but it was too late, and he filled my mouth with cream. “Don’t worry, I’ll be good to go in no time, he said. I laid him on the bed and feasted on him. Lance watched, enjoying the show. Within minutes, he was recovering. With my hand and mouth, he was soon rock-hard again. I straddled him and lowered myself onto his pole. I leaned over to kiss him and he thrust into me. With the vigour of youth, he banged into me as I rode him. Lance was jerking. I felt my orgasm approaching, and with a few strokes, splattered over Sean’s chest. Still he fucked on. Lance came on the carpet. Sean turned me over and fucked me doggy. “Fucking hell! I’m cumming”, and filled my guts. After recovering, we had dinner and drank wine. It seemed his girlfriend wanted to wait until marriage for sex, so all he got was a play with her tits and a wank. Fucking me was a revelation. We finished the wine and went to bed.

Not wanting to be left out, Lance took the opportunity to make out. It was my turn to watch. With a bit of persuasion, Sean went into a sixty-nine. They turned around, I lubed Sean’s tool and fed it into my husband. I couldn’t remember the last time he was fucked, but it was very erotic watching him plow away. Having already cum twice, the sex machine fucked for ages. I persuaded him to do Lance doggy, so that I could hold his balls, and feel his shaft sliding in and out. I also managed to toss Lance, who came in ribbons over my face. I felt Sean’s balls rise, then pulse their contents into Lance. We slept in a sticky mess. I was first up, douched, showered, and cooking breakfast. I heard the bedsprings going, so turned the breakfast off and went to watch. Lance was on all fours, taking a hammering. “Wow!” I exclaimed, as Sean shot his load (again). I licked Sean clean. Unable to resist, I topped. For once my head didn’t play mind games, Sean wanked Lance as I pumped hard, adding my juices to Sean’s. Lance put his semen on the bed.

After breakfast, Lance dropped Sean home and we spent the day in bed recuperating. I don’t think Sean was gay, just young, loved sex, and any hole will do.

A few weeks later, Sean confided in Lance that he’d dropped his girlfriend. “Nearly a year, and I haven’t even felt her cunt”, he moaned. Lance said it was like an ass, but looser and wetter. Lance added that he was welcome to boy sex any time he wanted…….            

                             *                               *                                                             

Needless to say, Sean soon found a girl to fulfill his carnal desires, but it was fun while it lasted. However, he did show Lance a picture of his uncle and boyfriend, and said they may be interested in some fun. Lance forwarded some saucy pictures of us, and hoped. His uncle, Fred, and partner, Bill, were in their late 20s, so I thought they may find us too old, It came as a surprise when Lance received an invite for us to have dinner with them. We arrived on Saturday at 6.00, and were greeted with warm smiles and a kiss on the cheeks. Their two-bedroom apartment was furnished minimally, with a lounge/diner and an open-plan kitchen, where amazing smells were coming from.  We sat on a sofa, with them in armchairs, supping red wine. The conversation flowed easily. They had been together four years, had their own printing company, and life was good. They were out to everyone and had a joie de vivre. I took a liking to Bill, with his dark, wavy hair and twinkly eyes. The chicken fillets in wine were lovely, as was the creme brulee.

 After more wine, the conversation became sexual. Sean had told them about our sex in explicit detail, which they repeated back to us, as if trying to find out if it was true. We added a few embellishments. Bill rubbed his crotch, then kissed his boyfriend. We took this as an invitation, and snogged, loosening our clothing at the same time. Fred and Bill came over and we kissed and groped together. Shirts came off and belts were loosened. Fred led Lance to one bedroom and Bill and I went to the other. We stripped each other, kissing as we went. In the other bedroom, we could hear groans of lust. Down to our underwear, I had a new jockstrap on. Bill’s white, Addicted ha a damp patch in anticipation. I knelt and eased his briefs down and a shaved, 6″ dick slapped his belly. I held his cock and licked his scrotum, sucking in a testicle, one at a time. Next door, Fred and Lance were exploring their bodies and moving into a sixty-nine. Bill lay on the bed, pulling me on top of him and squeezing my butt. I adjusted myself so that my dick was out the right leg of my jock, rubbing against his. Fred screamed as Lance entered him. Bill was working his fingers into my crack, toying with my bud. I shuffled up, so that he could suck me while opening me up. Lance was doing Fred doggy style. Shuffling back down, I impaled myself, leaning forward so that he could thrust. Lance and Fred swapped. Fred had mounted Lance and was fucking him hard. We rolled over. I held a leg in the air and Bill re-entered. Fred and Lance were on their sides, with Lance taking a hammering. He came over his thigh as Fred bred him. I could hold out no longer, and spilled my seed over Bill’s tummy. He fucked harder and unleashed his babies inside me. My softening cock slipped back inside my jock, staining it, as we lay gathering our breath. Lance was scooping his cum up and feeding it to Fred. After a while, we returned to the lounge for more wine. We stayed the night, swapping partners. In the morning, we showered and had breakfast. Fred took me by the penis to the bedroom. Lance went off with Bill. Fred’s cock was fatter than Bill’s, and hairy. He wasn’t muck of a kisser, preferring to suck and rim me, before putting me on all fours and going for it. Bill and Lance made out with plenty of foreplay. Fred had already cum leaving me a little frustrated. We went to watch the others. Lance had mounted Bill and was pumping hard. I went over and fed my dick into Bill’s mouth. With a mixture of sucking and wanking, he swallowed my cum, then went to work on his own shaft. Lance buried his semen deep inside. I managed to put my face in front of Bill’s cock as it exploded. After coffee, we dressed and left, but not before inviting them to ours. I can’t wait.

Ethan Kane, a 21-year-old rugby god, stirred in the tangled sheets of his king-sized bed, his body sprawled across the mattress like a sculpted monument to masculine perfection. His 6’2” frame was a masterpiece of raw power and chiseled beauty—broad shoulders that could carry the weight of a scrum, pecs so thick they strained every shirt he owned, and a five-pack of abs that looked carved from marble, each ridge glistening with a faint sheen of sweat from the humid night air. His biceps, thick as steel cables, flexed unconsciously as he shifted, his forearms roped with veins that pulsed with every heartbeat. His thighs, massive and defined, could crush a tackle dummy, and his calves were sculpted knots of muscle, honed from years of sprinting across the pitch. His skin, a sun-kissed bronze, glowed under the moonlight streaming through his open window, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw, dusted with a faint scruff, and the tousled, dark blond hair that fell in sweaty strands across his forehead. Ethan was a walking fantasy, a cocky jock with a grin that melted hearts and a reputation for leaving a trail of satisfied girls in his wake. But beneath that confident swagger, a spark of curiosity burned—a secret urge to explore something wilder, something forbidden.

His eight-inch cock, a thick, veiny beast that had earned him locker room legends, lay heavy against his thigh, barely contained by the tight black boxer briefs that hugged his muscular ass like a second skin. Ethan’s body was a temple of desire, every inch radiating heat and power, from the deep V of his Adonis belt to the faint trail of dark hair that led from his navel to the bulging prize below. He’d been a week without release, his balls heavy and aching, his body thrumming with pent-up need.

As he drifted in that hazy space between sleep and waking, a strange sensation prickled across his skin. His eyes fluttered open, expecting the familiar sight of his bedroom ceiling, but instead, he found himself surrounded by a surreal, dreamlike jungle. The air was thick, humid, and alive with the scent of earth and something sweeter, almost intoxicating. His bed was gone, replaced by a massive, ancient tree, its rough bark pressing into the corded muscles of his back. Ethan’s breath caught as he realized his wrists were bound above his head, not by ropes but by sinuous, emerald-green tentacles—living, pulsing vines that coiled around his forearms like lovers’ hands, their grip firm yet strangely sensual, allowing only the faintest twitch of movement. His powerful arms strained, biceps bulging, veins popping under his skin, but the tentacles held fast, their smooth, cool surfaces sliding against his wrists with a teasing caress.

Ethan’s heart pounded, his broad chest heaving, the slabs of his pecs rising and falling with each ragged breath. His nipples, already sensitive from the cool night air, hardened into tight peaks, standing out against the smooth expanse of his chest. His abs clenched, the five distinct ridges flexing as he tested his bonds, his body a taut bow of muscle and desire. He was still in his black boxer briefs, the fabric stretched obscenely over his thickening cock, the outline of his massive shaft and heavy balls clear as day. The jungle air kissed his skin, warm and humid, making every inch of his body feel hypersensitive, alive with anticipation.

Then he felt it—a ticklish, featherlight touch across his chest. Small tentacles, no thicker than his pinky, slithered over his pecs, their tips brushing his nipples with agonizing slowness. The sensation was electric, a jolt of pleasure that shot straight to his groin. Ethan gasped, his deep voice rough with surprise, as the tentacles circled his nipples, flicking and teasing, their smooth, silky surfaces sending shivers down his spine. Each touch was like a lover’s tongue, warm and deliberate, coaxing his nipples into harder, more sensitive peaks. His abs tightened, the ridges of his five-pack rippling as the tentacles trailed lower, skimming the deep grooves of his Adonis belt, tickling the sensitive skin just above his waistband. The sensation was maddening—light, teasing, and utterly relentless, stoking a fire in his core that made his cock throb painfully against the confines of his briefs.

“Fuck…” Ethan groaned, his voice low and gravelly, his head tilting back against the tree. His cock swelled, the thick, eight-inch shaft straining against the fabric, the head already leaking a bead of precum that soaked through, darkening the material. The tentacles seemed to sense his arousal, their movements growing bolder. A few smaller tendrils slipped beneath the waistband, their cool, slick surfaces brushing against the sensitive skin of his pelvis. Ethan’s hips bucked instinctively, a low moan escaping his lips as the tentacles tugged, the fabric stretching with a slow, torturous rip. His boxer briefs gave way, tearing apart to reveal his massive cock, which sprang free and slapped against his abs with a wet, resounding thwack. The head, swollen and glistening, left a slick trail of precum across the chiseled ridges of his stomach, the musky scent of his arousal filling the air.

Ethan’s body was a vision of raw, masculine beauty—his cock stood proud, thick veins pulsing along its length, the shaft curving slightly upward, the head flushed a deep, needy red. His balls, heavy and full, hung low, aching with a week’s worth of pent-up desire. The tentacles didn’t hesitate. They danced across his body, their touch both torturous and exquisite, exploring every inch of his sculpted form. Smaller tendrils returned to his nipples, joined now by strange, tulip-like buds, each no bigger than a thumbnail. Their petals unfurled, revealing soft, moist interiors that shimmered like wet silk. They latched onto his nipples, their petal-lips closing over the sensitive buds with a warm, sucking pressure that felt like thick, plush lips working him over. Ethan’s back arched, his pecs flexing, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as the tulip-tentacles sucked, their rhythmic pulsing sending waves of pleasure crashing through his chest. Each suck was a perfect blend of wet heat and firm pressure, like a lover who knew exactly how to drive him wild.

His cock pulsed against his abs, leaking steadily now, coating his five-pack in a sweet, musky slickness that glistened in the jungle’s dim light. The scent of his own arousal was intoxicating, mixing with the earthy richness of the jungle to create a heady, primal atmosphere. Ethan’s mind reeled, his body a live wire of sensation. The tentacles seemed to know every secret spot, every nerve that could make him tremble. His nipples throbbed under the tulip-tentacles’ relentless suction, each pull sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, making it twitch and drip. His abs clenched, the ridges flexing as smaller tendrils teased the sensitive skin between them, tickling and stroking, stoking a burning desire that made his balls ache.

“Goddamn… oh, fuck…” Ethan panted, his voice thick with lust, his chiseled jaw clenched as he fought the overwhelming need building inside him. His cock was a steel rod now, the head swollen and slick, every vein pulsing with need. The tentacles played with him mercilessly, their touch both teasing and commanding. Then, a new presence emerged—a larger tentacle, thicker and more imposing, its tip a massive tulip-like bloom the size of a real flower, its petals glistening with a strange, inviting sheen. It hovered over Ethan’s abs, its petal-lips lapping at the precum that pooled there, each lick slow and deliberate, like a tongue savoring every drop. The sensation was pure fire—warm, wet, and so intense it made his cock jump, his balls tightening with need.

Ethan’s moans grew louder, his voice raw and desperate. The large tentacle coiled playfully around the base of his cock, squeezing just enough to make his hips buck, then releasing, only to wrap around again, teasing him to the brink of insanity. Its petal-lips brushed against his balls, kissing them with a soft, wet caress that sent shivers through his entire body. Then, in a single, breathtaking moment, the tulip-head engulfed his balls entirely. The sensation was beyond anything Ethan had ever felt—warm, slick, and impossibly tight, like a perfect mouth that sucked and pulsed with expert precision. The tentacle rolled his balls gently, the wet heat enveloping them, drawing out pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. No girl had ever come close to this, and Ethan’s body trembled, his muscles flexing, his abs clenching as he fought the urge to explode.

“Fuck… oh, God… fuck…” he groaned, his voice breaking, his head thrashing against the tree. The tentacle worked his balls with relentless skill, sucking and pulsing, each movement sending a wave of ecstasy through his core. His cock throbbed, leaking a steady stream of precum that coated his abs, the musky scent driving him wild. The smaller tulip-tentacles on his nipples kept up their assault, sucking in perfect rhythm with the larger tentacle, creating a symphony of pleasure that consumed him entirely. His body was a furnace, every nerve alight with sensation, his cock aching for release.

The large tentacle didn’t stop. It released his balls with a wet pop, leaving them throbbing and slick, and began to move upward, its petal-lips tracing the sensitive underside of his cock. Each lick was slow, deliberate, exploring every vein, every ridge, savoring the slickness of his precum. Ethan’s hips bucked, his moans turning to desperate whimpers as the tentacle reached the swollen head of his cock. It teased the tip, circling the sensitive ridge, lapping at the slit where precum dripped in a steady stream. The sensation was torturous, a perfect blend of wet heat and teasing pressure that made his entire body shake.

Then, with agonizing slowness, the tulip-head opened wider, its petals parting to reveal a soft, juicy interior that shimmered like wet velvet. It engulfed his cockhead, sucking it in with a warm, pulsing pressure that felt like a mouth designed solely for his pleasure. Ethan’s eyes rolled back, a primal moan tearing from his throat as the tentacle took him deeper, its petals sliding down his shaft, inch by inch, until it reached the base, engulfing his entire eight-inch cock right down to his balls. The sensation was overwhelming—hot, wet, and impossibly tight, the tulip-head’s interior pulsing and sucking with a rhythmic force that felt like it was pulling his soul from his body. The pressure was relentless, the petals massaging every inch of his shaft, the suction so strong it made his balls ache with the need for release. Ethan’s body trembled, his pecs flexing, his abs clenching, his voice reduced to a series of raw, desperate moans as the tentacle sucked him hard, holding him on the edge of ecstasy.

The tulip-head’s suction was relentless—hot, wet, and impossibly tight, like a mouth crafted by some primal god to drive him insane. Each pulse of its petals sent a jolt of pleasure through his cock, the sensitive head throbbing as the tentacle’s slick interior stroked and squeezed, pulling at his very core. His hips bucked involuntarily, his powerful thighs flexing, the muscles rippling under his sun-kissed skin. The sensation was overwhelming, a white-hot fire that consumed his entire being, his balls aching with the need to explode. “Fuck… oh, God… don’t stop…” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly plea, thick with lust and desperation.

But then, with agonizing slowness, the tulip-head began to retreat. Its petals slid up his shaft, inch by torturous inch, the wet, sucking warmth peeling away from his cockhead, leaving a trail of slickness that cooled in the jungle air. Ethan’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitching as the tentacle released him completely with a soft, wet pop. His cock slapped back against his abs, the head swollen and glistening, a bead of precum dripping down the ridges of his five-pack. A wave of frustration crashed through him, his body trembling with unfulfilled need. He’d been so close—on the verge of the deepest, most earth-shattering blowjob of his life—and now he was left hanging, his cock throbbing painfully, his balls tight and aching. “What the fuck…” he growled, his voice rough with irritation, his chiseled jaw tightening as he glared down at the tentacle. His pecs flexed, his abs clenching as he tugged against the vines binding his wrists, the muscles in his arms bulging with the effort.

The large tulip-head tentacle hovered for a moment, its glistening petals shimmering in the dim light, as if mocking him. Then, with a deliberate, teasing slowness, it dipped lower, its petal-lips brushing against his heavy balls. Ethan’s breath caught, a mix of relief and renewed arousal flooding his senses. The tentacle kissed his balls, its warm, wet surface caressing them with a gentleness that sent a shiver up his spine. Then, in a single, breathtaking moment, it engulfed them entirely, sucking them into its juicy, pulsing interior. The sensation was electric—hot, tight, and so fucking intense it made his head spin. The tulip-head rolled his balls gently, its petals massaging them with a rhythmic, sucking pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth, warm and eager, drawing out pleasure so deep it made his toes curl. Ethan’s moans returned, louder now, his voice a raw, primal growl as his body arched against the tree. “Fuck, yes… oh, shit… that’s it…” he panted, his hips bucking, his cock twitching against his abs, leaking a steady stream of precum that coated his chiseled stomach in a musky, sweet sheen.

The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashed through every nerve in his body. His balls throbbed in the tentacle’s tight, wet embrace, each suck sending a jolt of ecstasy straight to his core. His pecs flexed, the smaller tulip-tentacles still sucking his nipples with relentless precision, their warm, pulsing mouths keeping his chest alight with sensation. His abs clenched, the ridges rippling as the pleasure built, his entire body a taut bow of muscle and desire. For a fleeting moment, he was back in ecstasy, his mind consumed by the thought that this—this—was what he’d been craving, even if he’d never admitted it.

But then, just as he felt himself hurtling toward the edge again, the tentacle released his balls with another wet pop. Ethan’s eyes widened, a mix of shock and frustration flashing across his rugged face. “No, fuck, come on!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the jungle, his tone a mix of desperation and command. His cock throbbed, his balls aching, his body screaming for release. “Get back here, damn it! Finish me off!” he growled, his deep voice carrying a cocky edge, as if the tentacle could understand him—or maybe it could, who the fuck knew in this crazy-ass dream? His biceps flexed, his wrists straining against the vines, his abs tightening as he glared at the tentacle, his green eyes blazing with need.

The tulip-head seemed to pause, its petals quivering as if considering his words. Then, with a slow, deliberate grace, it moved again, its petal-lips brushing just below his balls, kissing the sensitive skin of his taint. Ethan’s breath hitched, a mix of surprise and unexpected pleasure flooding his senses. The sensation was new, strange, and undeniably hot—a warm, wet caress that sent a shiver through his massive thighs. “Oh… shit…” he muttered, his voice softer now, a mix of curiosity and arousal. It felt good, different but good, the tentacle’s soft, juicy lips teasing a spot he’d never even thought about. His cock twitched, still aching for attention, but the new sensation was intriguing, a spark of pleasure that made him wonder just how far this could go.

The tentacle didn’t stop. It slid lower, its petal-lips tracing a slow, deliberate path, licking every inch with a tenderness that made Ethan’s body tremble. His heart pounded, his pecs heaving, his abs flexing as the tentacle ventured into forbidden territory. It reached the tight, untouched ring of his hole, its warm, slick surface brushing against it with a gentle, teasing caress. Ethan’s eyes widened, a jolt of shock cutting through the haze of pleasure. “Hey, what the fuck!” he shouted, his voice a mix of alarm and indignation, his straight-jock instincts kicking in. His thighs tensed, his massive quads bulging as he tried to shift away, but the tentacles binding his wrists and ankles held him firm, his body pinned against the tree. His cock, still rock-hard and leaking, slapped against his abs, betraying the arousal he couldn’t deny.

The tulip-head didn’t care. It licked again, its petals gliding over his hole with agonizing slowness, the sensation warm, wet, and so fucking intense it made his head spin. Each lick was deliberate, the tentacle’s juicy interior exploring every sensitive nerve, sending sparks of pleasure through his body that he didn’t know were possible. Ethan’s moans returned, softer now, tinged with confusion and reluctant delight. His balls ached, his cock throbbed, and his mind reeled as the tentacle continued its tender assault, pushing him into a realm of sensation he’d never imagined. His body was a live wire, every muscle taut, every nerve alight with a mix of shock, arousal, and a burning curiosity that made his heart race.

The large tulip-head tentacle was teasing his tight, untouched hole, its petal-lips gliding over the sensitive ring with warm, slick licks that sent shivers of reluctant pleasure through him. Each caress was deliberate, the juicy interior igniting nerves he’d never explored, making his cock throb and his heart pound. But as the tentacle paused, its glistening petals quivering, it pressed closer, the thick, bulbous tip nudging right against his tightly clenched hole. Ethan’s eyes widened, a surge of panic crashing through him. “No fuckin’ way…” he growled, his deep voice raw with alarm, his straight-jock instincts kicking into overdrive. This was too far, too much—his body was his temple, and this was a line he’d never crossed. His mind screamed to fight, to get free, to stop this before it went any further.

He yanked against the tentacles binding his wrists, his biceps flexing hard, the muscles swelling as he poured every ounce of his rugby-honed strength into breaking free. His shoulders rolled, his pecs tightening, the veins in his forearms bulging like steel cables as he twisted and pulled. “Get off me, damn it!” he roared, his voice echoing through the jungle, a mix of fury and desperation. But the vines held him in a dead grip, their smooth, cool surfaces tightening around his wrists like living iron, unyielding and merciless. His struggles only made his body shift, his hips bucking, his abs clenching, exposing his hole further to the massive tulip-head waiting below. Each movement made him more vulnerable, his resistance turning him into an easier target for the tentacle’s inevitable invasion.

“Fuck… no…” he panted, his voice cracking, his green eyes flashing with a mix of fear and defiance. He kicked against the vines at his ankles, his massive thighs flexing, the muscles rippling under his bronzed skin, but the tentacles held firm, pinning him against the rough bark of the tree. His heart pounded like a drum, his chest heaving, his nipples throbbing harder under the smaller tentacles’ relentless sucking. The tulip-tentacles on his nipples pulsed faster, their warm, juicy mouths drawing out sharp, electric pleasure that clashed with his panic, making his cock twitch and leak, the musky precum coating his chiseled abs in a glistening sheen. The sensation was maddening, a cruel mix of pleasure and restraint that left him torn between fighting and surrendering.

Then, a new massive tulip-head tentacle emerged, its petals shimmering as it slithered toward his heavy, aching balls. Ethan’s breath hitched, his eyes flicking down as its petal-lips brushed against his balls, kissing them with a soft, wet caress that sent a shiver through his core. “Oh, shit…” he muttered, his voice softer now, tinged with reluctant arousal. The tentacle engulfed his balls entirely, sucking them into its hot, juicy interior with a tight, pulsing pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth worshipping him. The sensation was pure fire—warm, wet, and so intense it made his hips buck, his cock slapping against his abs. The tentacle rolled his balls gently, each suck sending a wave of ecstasy crashing through him, amplifying the chaos in his mind.

The large tulip-head at his hole quivered, its petals parting to release a thick, warm stream of slick, syrupy lube that coated his tight ring, soothing and teasing all at once. The lube was hot, almost too hot, its viscous texture clinging to his skin, making every nerve tingle with heightened sensitivity. Ethan’s body tensed, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as the tentacle pressed forward, its thick, bulbous tip pushing against his lubed hole with slow, deliberate insistence. “No… fuck, no…” he growled, his voice a mix of defiance and desperation, but his struggles only made his hole relax slightly, betraying him as the tentacle seized the moment.

With agonizing slowness, the tulip-head slipped past his tight ring, the thick, slick tip stretching him open with a deep, burning fullness that stole his breath. Ethan’s eyes rolled back, a raw, guttural moan tearing from his throat as the sensation hit—a molten, overwhelming mix of pressure and pleasure that rocked his entire body. The tentacle’s interior was soft, juicy, and impossibly warm, like a velvet glove, but its size—thick and commanding—filled him in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. The stretch was intense, a fiery burn that made his abs clench, his pecs flex, his biceps strain against the vines as he fought to process the feeling. “Fuck… it’s too much…” he gasped, his voice raw, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

But the pleasure was undeniable, a deep, primal ecstasy that radiated from his core, igniting nerves he didn’t know existed. The tentacle pushed deeper, its petals pulsing gently, massaging his inner walls with a rhythmic, almost loving caress that sent sparks of pleasure through his entire being. Each inch it claimed felt like fire, like lightning, a hot, throbbing presence that stretched him wider, deeper, hitting a spot inside him that made his cock jump and his balls ache in the new tentacle’s sucking embrace. His moans grew louder, a mix of shock, resistance, and reluctant surrender, his voice echoing through the jungle. “Goddamn… what the fuck… it’s so… fucking… good…” he panted, his chiseled jaw slack, his green eyes half-lidded with a lust he couldn’t fight.

The smaller tulip-tentacles on his nipples sucked harder, their warm, wet mouths pulsing in perfect sync with the tentacle in his hole, creating a symphony of sensation that consumed him. His pecs throbbed, the swollen peaks so sensitive they felt like live wires, each suck sending a jolt straight to his cock, making it leak a steady stream of precum that coated his abs in a musky, sweet sheen. The tentacle on his balls was relentless, its juicy interior rolling and squeezing, the hot, tight suction driving him wild. His thighs trembled, his quads bulging, his body a taut bow of muscle and desire as the pleasure built, a tidal wave that threatened to drown him.

The tentacle in his hole began to move, a slow, rhythmic thrust that stretched him further, each motion a perfect blend of pressure and pleasure. The thick lube eased its path, but the fullness was overwhelming, a deep, molten ecstasy that made his entire body shake. It hit that spot inside him again and again, sending explosions of pleasure through his core, making his cock twitch, his balls throb, his abs clench with every wave. Ethan’s struggles faded, his resistance crumbling under the weight of this primal, otherworldly pleasure. His body was a furnace, every nerve alight with sensation, his mind a haze of shock, fear, and undeniable ecstasy. “Fuck… I can’t… it’s too good…” he groaned, his voice a raw, desperate plea, his body surrendering to the tentacles as they pushed him deeper into a pleasure so intense it felt like it might break him.

Ethan’s mind was a haze of raw, primal need, his straight-jock bravado shattered by the overwhelming pleasure consuming him. The tentacle in his hole moved faster now, its juicy, velvet interior pulsing harder, each thrust hitting that electric spot deep inside him with unrelenting precision, sending sparks of white-hot pleasure through every nerve. The thick, warm lube coated his inner walls, amplifying every sensation, making the stretch feel like a fiery, sensual embrace that pushed him closer to the edge. His cock throbbed painfully, untouched but swollen, the head flushed a deep red, leaking precum in a steady stream that dripped down his chiseled abs, filling the air with his musky scent. The smaller tentacles on his nipples sucked with ferocious intensity, their warm, plush mouths pulsing in perfect sync with the thrusts in his hole, each pull a sharp, electric jolt that made his pecs flex and his moans grow louder, his deep voice a raw, desperate growl echoing through the jungle. The tentacle on his balls squeezed tighter, its juicy petals rolling and sucking with a hot, wet pressure that felt like a lover’s mouth worshipping him, drawing out pleasure so intense his vision blurred. “Fuck… oh, God… I can’t… it’s too fuckin’ good…” he panted, his chiseled jaw slack, his green eyes rolling back as his open mouth let out a stream of guttural moans, his body surrendering completely to the ecstasy.

The pleasure built to a fever pitch, a tidal wave of sensation that crashed through him, his body a live wire of muscle and desire. The tentacle in his hole thrust deeper, faster, its petals pulsing with a rhythmic force that massaged his inner walls, hitting that spot with every stroke, sending explosions of pleasure through his core. His balls tightened in the sucking embrace of the second tentacle, the hot, juicy suction pushing him to the brink. His abs clenched, the ridges rippling as his cock twitched violently, the head throbbing with need. “Fuck… I’m gonna… oh, shit…” he groaned, his voice breaking, his mouth open wide in a primal roar as the pleasure overwhelmed him. With a final, earth-shattering thrust from the tentacle in his hole, Ethan’s body convulsed, his muscles flexing, his thighs trembling, his pecs heaving as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his cock, shooting upward with such force that they splattered across his chiseled chest, coating his throbbing pecs and dripping down the deep grooves of his five-pack abs. One powerful jet hit his open, moaning mouth, the warm, salty taste flooding his senses, mingling with his gasps as he licked his lips instinctively, his body still shaking with the intensity of his climax. The musky scent of his release filled the air, mixing with the earthy jungle aroma, as his cum glistened on his bronzed skin, a testament to the raw, primal ecstasy that had consumed him. His moans softened to breathless whimpers, his body trembling, his cock still twitching as the tentacles held him tight, milking every last drop of pleasure from his sculpted, sweat-soaked frame.

Ethan Kane’s 6’2” rugby-god body jolted awake, his green eyes snapping open as he gasped for air, his chiseled chest heaving under the faint moonlight streaming through his bedroom window. The humid jungle, the sinuous tentacles, the overwhelming ecstasy—it all dissolved like mist, leaving him sprawled across his tangled sheets, his heart pounding like a drum in his massive pecs. His bronzed skin glistened with sweat, every inch of his sculpted frame tingling with the aftershocks of the most vivid, primal dream he’d ever had. His broad shoulders, thick with muscle, pressed into the mattress, his biceps still flexed as if straining against those emerald-green vines. His five-pack abs, carved like marble, rippled with each ragged breath, slick with a warm, sticky sheen that made his skin prickle. His thighs, massive pillars of power, twitched restlessly, his quads bulging under the sheets as he tried to ground himself in reality.

But something was off. Ethan’s breath caught as he realized his black boxer briefs were gone, the cool air kissing his bare skin where the tight fabric should’ve been. His eight-inch cock, still rock-hard and throbbing, stood proud against his abs, the swollen head glistening with a bead of precum that dripped onto the chiseled ridges of his stomach. His heavy balls ached, full and sensitive, as if the dream’s relentless teasing had followed him into the waking world. He glanced down, his green eyes widening as he saw his chest and abs coated in thick, warm ropes of his own cum, the musky scent filling his nostrils, potent and intoxicating. The sticky release clung to his pecs, dripping down the deep grooves between his abs, pooling in the sharp V of his Adonis belt, a testament to the explosive climax that had felt so real. His nipples, still swollen and sensitive, tingled as if those tulip-tentacles were still sucking them, sending a faint jolt of pleasure through his core.

“Fuck… what the hell…” Ethan muttered, his deep voice rough with disbelief, his chiseled jaw clenching as he tried to make sense of it. His tongue darted out instinctively to wet his lips, and he froze, his heart skipping a beat as a thick, potent drop of his own cum touched his tongue. The taste was powerful, salty, and unmistakably his, a heady reminder of the dream’s raw intensity. His eyes fluttered, a shiver running through his massive frame as he realized the drop had landed on his face, smearing across his full lips during the throes of his dream-induced ecstasy. His cock twitched again, still hard, still aching, as if the jungle’s tentacles had left a permanent mark on his body and mind. Ethan lay there, his sweat-soaked body trembling, his mind reeling with the realization that the dream had been more than just a fantasy—it had awakened something deep, wild, and undeniable within him.

I woke up the next morning refreshed and strangely at peace. I laid in the bed in just my boxer briefs and the sheet and looked down at myself. Not bad for a 39 almost 40 year old dad of two teens there Alex. Ha I chuckled to myself. I was always active from a young age and football and baseball were my passions as far as sports had gone when I was younger. It taught me a discipline of staying fit but still enjoying yourself. Granted the last few years I threw myself in to working out a little harder than I had been but it was my escape from the real world and my thoughts and fears. It paid off and I enjoyed the way I felt after. Speaking of working out. I wonder if this place has a gym? I dressed in my workout gear and found the hotel gym. Not much but it would do. I did all my basic routines with what they had available here. It had to do. Better than no workout. I went back to my room and showered and went back downstairs for breakfast. I was sitting on the patio eating my breakfast and drinking my coffee while looking at the beauty of Greece around me. Pinch me I still can’t believe I’m here! 

While lost in my thoughts my phone dinged with a text. It was Nico. “Good morning Alex. Hope you slept well! I enjoyed our dinner last night. I was headed to the beach later today and was wondering if you’d like to join me? Say around noon?” I smiled. He was so cute and so nice. How the hell did I meet him this quickly and he be so great? At least I’m hoping he’s great and not just for show. 

“Morning Nico. I did sleep well thank you for asking. I would love to join you later and I loved last night. Text me the location and I’ll meet you there!” I sent the message and he replied immediately. “Yay! See you later! :)”
I smiled and was all fuzzy inside. The day was going to be even better now that I was meeting Nico at the beach. I finished my breakfast and went back to my room to call my boys and see how they were doing and filled them in on the trip so far. I didn’t mention anything about Nico, too early for that. 

Noon arrived and like clockwork my phone dinged and it was Nico. He texted me his location, “See you soon! ;)” it read. I was feeling adventurous this trip and had bought and packed a few different swim suits. One was your typical board short type suit, one was a speedo because hell why not and the last one, which is the one I settled on, looked more like boxer brief trunks than a swim suit. I thought I’m half way across the world finding myself I’ll wear what I want. I put those one and looked myself over in the mirror. My dirty blonde hair and then light dusting of the same matching hair on my chest and abs along with my tan skin against the lime green swim suit, yeah I know bold choice but fuck it, I felt and looked good. I slipped on my shorts and my shirt and left the buttons open all the way, slipped on my flip flops and grabbed my beach bag and was on my way. 

It didn’t take me long to find Nico on the beach and fuck if he didn’t look like a damn Greek god… He had two lounge chairs sitting next to one another and was standing there in the exact swim suit I was wearing under my shorts, but bright blue, and his body was stunning. He short hair was shining in the sun and his tanned skin against that blue was a sight. I walked up as he turned and saw me. “Hey Alex! I’m so glad you could meet me!” He said giving me a hug and a peck in the cheek. “Yeah thanks for inviting me out here. It was one of my things to check off my list to see while here.” He smiled and I smiled back. I looked at him up close and oh my god he was sex on a stick. I pulled my shirt off and slipped out of my shorts into just my suit. He smiled and laughed. “Now how the hell did this happen?” He said noticing like I did walking up that we were in the same suit just different colors. “I have no idea but it’s fun and…” I said but stopped. “And…” he said looking at me. “It’s nothing…I just…” now I’m stuttering, great Alex get it together. He smiled and grabbed my hand. “It’s ok. Say what you were going to tell me. I won’t judge.” I smiled back and looked down at his hand holding mine. “I was saying…it’s ok because you look awfully good almost too damn good in that suit.” I spit out blushing. “I think you do as well Alex. You are one sexy man and I don’t just mean your body, even though…it’s very nice… you seem to have the whole package. Brains and beauty.” I stood there speechless. “Wow. Nico. Thank you. I think that’s the first time anyone had ever complemented me like that and I felt really good.” “You should Alex. You’re a very attractive man and I can tell you’re not full of yourself either. Too bad that ex wife of yours was a fool and let you go…” we sat on the lounge chairs him still holding my hand. I watched him continue talking. “Her loss…. My gain….” With that he leaned over and gave me another wonderful kiss like the one he gave me last night. I kissed him back, in public and you know what, I didn’t even care if anyone saw us. I moved my hands to his knees and leaned into the kiss more. I was sure I wanted this. I didn’t know what would happen after our three days were up and even if I’d ever see him after that before my two weeks in Greece were up but, for the first time in my life I knew. I knew that finally I was getting to be my true authentic self here and with him. It felt amazing. We broke apart and smiled at each other. 

The rest of the afternoon we enjoyed the beach. We talked about random things. I soon found I loved listening to the sound of his voice. How calm and confident he was. How he knew who he was and what he wanted. I envied him. To be that free sounded amazing. Then again that’s why I’m here in the first place. To find myself and be free finally. And the first two days with this hot and amazing man I must say is a pretty good start! We laid out got some sun. Walked to the water and got in waist deep and enjoyed the sun and each others company. I was watching the waves roll by and enjoying the swaying of the water around me. I closed my eyes and just breathed in the salty Greek air and sighed. “You ok Alex?” Nico asked me about a foot away from me. I opened my eyes to see this beautiful man standing here asking if I’m ok. “Yeah I actually am Nico. I truly am. Being here and relaxing and being here with you I’m actually really good.” I smiled back at him. He moved closer to me and I turned to him and reached out for his hands. I grabbed them and then grabbed his waist and he looked surprised. I pressed our wet bodies up against one another and kissed him deep. He responded by doing the same back to me. And there we were in the water on the beach kissing and pressed up against one another. It felt amazing. 

We broke apart and I knew if I didn’t ask now I wouldn’t do it and back out. “Hey. Do you want to go back to my room? Maybe get cleaned up…go to dinner…or maybe we can continue this there?…” he raised his eyebrows at me and smiled. “Only if you’re sure… I know you…” I stopped him by kissing him again. “I’m sure…” I looked at him. “Ok then..” he said. We grabbed our stuff and he followed me back to my hotel. I was nervous as hell but I was sure of one thing, even if this thing, if you could even call two days a thing, with Nico doesn’t work out, I knew I wanted him to be the first guy I tested the waters with. 

We got up to my room and we walked inside. We immediately started to attack eachother like starving animals. I knew I wanted to try things and he was willing to let me. We both cupped our growing bulges in our suits and broke apart from kissing. We looked each other in the eyes. “Alex. We will only go as far as you want to go, it’s at your pace, I want you to know that we don’t have to do anything and everything…” I nodded and kissed him again. “Nico. Thank you. Trust me I will let you know if we are going too far.”  With that we both stepped back and pulled our suits off and bared our naked bodies to eachother finally. Fuck was he sexy! The happy trail on those gorgeous abs ran down to a nicely trimmed bush of pubes covering a wonderfully sized, suprisingly cut cock, and he was slowly growing. He was looking at me and my similarly shaped body and we both smiled and chuckled. “We are more alike than not aren’t we?” He said. “Yeah we are aren’t we?” By this time both of our cocks wee standing at attention and pointed at one another. He slowly grabbed and wrapped his hand around my throbbing member and I followed his lead. Fuck. He felt amazing in my hand. My first time holding another man’s cock and it felt so right and so natural. What the hell have I been missing all this time? We slowly started to stroke one another and stepped closer. We began making out and our stroking picked up speed. 

“Let’s get on the bed and get more comfortable…” I said. He nodded and followed my lead. We sat on the bed facing eachother on our knees and picked up where we left off. We got even closer and Nico took both of our thick cocks and put them together and started to rub. He grabbed my hand and brought it together with his and together we both started to stroke our cocks. I looked deep into his eyes and I felt like I was staring into soul and him mine. We kissed and then he told me to lie back. I knew what he was thinking and I was ready. His hands rubbed and tweaked my sensitive nipples as he kissed down my abs and my thighs. Once he got to my throbbing cock. He flicked his tongue on the head and made my cock bounce. He cradled my balls and slowly began inch by inch taking my cock into his mouth. The eyes in my head rolled back and I moaned in approval. Fuck this was amazing. He picked up the pace and I found myself wiggling around gripping the sheets while he was sucking me balls deep. I looked down and he was looking at me smiling with my cock down his throat. “Nico. Ohhhh fuckkk. I I I’m getting close…stop before I…” he picked up the speed and even if I wanted to pull out which obviously he didn’t want me to, I couldn’t I was too far gone. “Nico! Fuck!!! I’m gonna blow!” And after that last word came from my mouth I grunted and blew my load deep down his throat. He kept sucking and swallowed every last bit of it. My cock popped out of his mouth and a huge grin spread across his face while I was catching my breath. He crawled up towards my face and gave me a big kiss. I tasted myself on his lips and it was hot. We made out and I started to stroke him laying there. It didn’t take much but he was getting close to blowing his load. “Cum on me Nico. Cum on me!” He nodded and stroked and grunted “oh fuck Alex!” and with that rope after rope of his hot white load come shooting out all over my naked body. It was so hot seeing him shoot his white cream all over my hairy abs and chest. He looked at me and I pulled him back on top of me, his cum glueing us tighter together. We made out and then he slid down onto the bed next to me. I laid my head on his chest and we just laid there. I finally had my first experience with another man….and I loved it. It was what I was missing my entire life. I knew right then and there I was for sure without a doubt gay. 

We laid there for a while just listening to eachother breathe. Next thing I know I hear faint snoring and realized Nico had fallen asleep with my head on his chest. I pulled the sheet up over our still naked bodies. Eh we can clean up in the morning. No way was I going to move and ruin this perfect moment. 

And that night I fell asleep with Nico next to me and I felt so content and had the best night of sleep I had in I can’t even remember how long. 

The following story is a work of FICTION. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. If it feels personal… that’s between you and your conscience. Please don’t repost, reproduce, or do anything shady without permission—unless you’re into cease and desist letters. Also: Save it. Like it. Comment on it. Send feedback, thoughts, corrections, compliments (especially compliments lmao). Seriously, I’ve been receiving a lot of love and it helps to motivate me! Yes, I read them.

---

Permission

The days after that night blurred together. But not in the way Liam had expected.

Noah didn’t act weird. Not at all. If anything, he acted like nothing had happened. The same casual texts. The same gym sessions. The same teasing attitude. As if Liam hadn’t knelt there, jacking him off until he’d exploded all over Liam’s chest.

It was fucking insane.

Liam should’ve been freaking out, especially with the… jizz part. Hell, part of him wanted to. But Noah’s calm made it impossible. There was no fallout. No awkwardness. Just… friendship. Bro shit, right? If Noah wasn’t making it a thing, why should he?

By the end of that week, they were back to their normal rhythm. Gym, trash talk, grabbing lunch. Noah even started inviting him over to chill, sometimes watching fights or swapping TikTok clips like they were just regular dudes. And—honestly? Liam found himself looking forward to it. It was easy. No pressure. Noah didn’t judge. Didn’t push. Didn’t act like anything was off. It was the only time Liam’s brain shut the fuck up for a while. They didn’t do anything like what happened that day, so yeah, whatever.

Still, when he was alone, his mind circled back. That night had been weird. No question. But he had excuses. Plenty of them. Weed. Booze. Pent-up frustration. Camila barely even acknowledging him. It had been a perfect storm. A one-time fluke.

“Just guy stuff,” Liam muttered more than once when the thoughts crept in.

Maybe Noah was right—he was too in his head about things. And the more Liam hung out with him, the more that idea took root. Maybe he’d been stressing over nothing. Maybe he did need to loosen up more.

---

It was a Friday night when it finally snapped. The breakup wasn’t loud. No shouting. No accusations.

Just a text.

[Camila: “I think we should take some time apart. It’s not working anymore.”]

Liam stared at it for a long time. Like if he blinked, it would change. Like it was a draft, not the final message. But it didn’t change. And she didn’t unsend it. And no follow-up came.

For a second, he thought he should call her. Or at least ask why. But deep down? He already knew.

She was too distant. And maybe he had other priorities as well. The gym. Work. His moods. The usual excuses. Also she fucking went to another state for a month.

So he did what he always did when things got too heavy. He pushed the feeling down. Way down.

He scrolled back through their old texts. Scanned a few photos. Her smile. Their last date. He didn’t feel the sharp gut-punch he thought he would. Just… numbness. Like the part of his brain that was supposed to freak out wasn’t firing.

Maybe because this wasn’t news. They’d been drifting for a while indeed.

Eventually, he just wanted it out of his head. And a silly part of him wondered what Noah would say about it.

He closed the chat with Camila.

Then he opened a new one.

[Liam: “hey man. got dumped. you wanna get shitfaced or what”]

He stared at it for a second. Didn’t sound pussyish, right? Didn’t want Noah thinking he was, like, falling apart. Just trying to drink it off with a friend.

It took less than a minute.

[Noah: “fuck. sorry dude. come thru”]

[Noah: “hitting the bar tonight. drinks on me.”]

[Noah: “well, one drink, i’m not really swimming in cash lmao.”]

Liam smiled at the joke and it already made him feel better. Simple. No overthinking. No awkward “you okay?” Just action.

Liam grabbed his jacket. If he sat there all night, he’d go insane.

By the time he got to the bar, the sun had already set and the streets were buzzing with Friday night noise—cars rolling by, laughter spilling from patios, the low hum of bass from nearby clubs. The place Noah picked wasn’t too packed. A little grungy. Wood floors scuffed from years of foot traffic. Red neon lights casting a low glow across cheap high tables.

Noah was easy to spot. Leaning back against the bar, thumb scrolling his phone, beer already in hand. Black T-shirt, gold chain. Casual like always.

He glanced up and smiled when he saw Liam. “There he is.”

Liam gave a nod, sliding onto the stool beside him.

“First round’s on me.” Noah tipped his bottle toward the bartender. “Told you. Bad bitches and bad decisions tonight.”

Liam smirked despite himself. “I don’t see any bad bitches.”

“That’s ‘cause you just got here.” Noah grinned, signaling for another round. “And because I’m currently flying solo. Which means I can focus on making you feel better, little buddy.”

Liam relaxed a little. Let the night begin.

The first couple rounds went fast. Noah kept the drinks coming, casual. He wasn’t nursing his own beer, exactly—but Liam noticed he never poured himself the doubles he kept slipping into Liam’s glass.

They talked gym shit at first. Just inane stuff—trash talk about some guy who hogged the cables and moaned like a wounded giraffe during sets. Noah cracked jokes about his boss. Liam even laughed a few times.

It was good. Distracting.

But the liquor crept up slowly.

Liam felt his tongue loosen. His shoulders weren’t tense anymore. His face was warm. Buzzed, yeah, but not sloppy.

Noah leaned back, resting his elbow on the back of Liam’s chair like they’d been doing this for years. “So,” he drawled. “Camila. You wanna spill or what?”

Liam hesitated. His hand curled around his glass. He could’ve dodged. Could’ve brushed it off. But something about Noah’s voice made it feel like the most natural thing in the world to just… talk.

“She just…” He shrugged. “Stopped caring, I guess. Stopped showing up. Stopped texting back.”

Noah frowned. “Her loss.”

Liam huffed a dry laugh. “Yeah. Maybe.” He stared into his drink. “It’s not even about her, though. Not really.”

Noah stayed quiet. Let him go on.

“It’s like…” Liam shook his head, searching for the words. “Every time shit starts going good, I fuck it up. Or they get bored. Or something just breaks. I don’t even know why anymore.”

His throat tightened. He took another long sip, swallowing against the lump building there. Fuck. That wasn’t supposed to come out. That sounded pathetic.

Noah tipped the bottle toward him again, refilling without a word.

“I’m probably just too much,” Liam muttered, trying to force a smirk. “Girls don’t wanna deal with a dude who’s quiet. Or in his head all the time, like you said. Or doesn’t wanna party every weekend.”

“Bullshit,” Noah said, sharp. “That’s not it.”

Liam didn’t answer. He felt his face flush—not from the booze this time. From that fucking ache behind his ribs. That hollow, twisting thing he hated. The one he ignored at work. At the gym. Even when Camila was still around.

He exhaled hard. “I’m fine. I just… fuck. I don’t know.”

His eyes burned. Fuck. No. He was not doing this. Not here. Not in a bar with Noah watching him.

Liam sat back, dragging his hands down his face. He forced the feeling down. Way down. His usual solution.

When he glanced over, Noah wasn’t smirking. Wasn’t teasing. Just watching. Calm. Steady. Like nothing Liam said could surprise him.

“Dude.” Noah’s voice was soft. “You’ve been carrying too much. You need a fucking break. And I’m not just talking about Camila.”

Liam nodded, swallowing. He didn’t trust his voice.

“Good thing you’ve got me now.” Noah’s grin crept back, easy and warm. “Bad bitch number one.”

That broke the tension. Liam let out a breathy laugh. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“Yeah, but you love it.”

Liam smiled, loosening up. The buzz was spreading now—warm in his face, in his chest. His shoulders weren’t so stiff anymore.

It was easy to let Noah talk. He was good at it. Funny. Confident… The kind of guy Liam used to side-eye in high school, thinking how the fuck are they so relaxed all the time?

Somewhere between the third and fourth refill, the conversation turned.

“You been holding up alright though?” Noah asked. “Like… besides the breakup shit.”

Liam hesitated. The question wasn’t aggressive. Wasn’t even heavy. Just casual. But it scraped something raw anyway.

“I’m fine,” Liam lied. Then cleared his throat. “I mean—whatever. You know how it is.”

Noah gave a short nod. “Yeah.” He sipped his drink. “Chicks never know what the fuck they want, man.”

That made Liam laugh, rough and too loud. “God. Don’t get me started.”

“Bro.” He reached out, clapped a hand over Liam’s shoulder. “That’s why I don’t even stress anymore. Just have fun. Take it easy.”

He nodded. Looked down at his glass. “Maybe you’re right.”

The words felt heavy in his mouth. But they also felt like relief. Like Noah was giving him approval to stop trying so fucking hard.

The night stretched long. The bar crowd thinned, leaving just a low hum of voices and the clink of glasses. Liam leaned back, head fuzzy, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.

But the clock behind the bar read almost 1 a.m.

He rubbed his eyes. “Shit. It’s late. I should head out.”

Noah shook his head immediately. “Nah. No way.”

Liam frowned, pushing back from the table. “Dude. I’m good. I’ll grab an Uber.”

“You’re not good.” Noah grinned, but there was an edge to it. “You’re drunk as hell. I’m not letting you go home like that.”

“I’m fine.” Liam started to stand—but his legs wobbled. The room tilted a little too fast.

Noah caught his elbow without even trying. “See? Told you.”

Liam huffed a weak laugh. “I’ll sleep it off at home.”

“Nope.” Noah squeezed his arm. “You’re crashing at my place. Don’t make me pin you down.”

Liam smirked, swaying slightly. Maybe he was too drunk… “Well… I can’t argue with authority.”

“Damn right.” Noah directed him towards the door, Liam tossed a few bills on the table, not even looking at the total. “C’mon. We’ll grab your shit tomorrow.”

Liam hesitated again. For a second. Maybe less. But honestly? He was too buzzed to argue. And it wasn’t like this was weird. He and Noah had hung out more than once now. Even crashed on each other’s couches after late gym nights.

“Alright,” Liam muttered. “But I’m stealing your best blanket.”

Noah grinned wide. “Man, you are drunk. You’re getting the shitty guest blanket.”

They stepped out into the cool night air. Noah’s hand stayed on Liam’s back the whole walk to his car—steady, firm, guiding.

Liam didn’t even question it.

---

The ride back wasn’t long. Ten minutes maybe. Long enough for Liam’s head to swim a little, but not enough to sober him up. He leaned against the passenger window, cool glass against his forehead. The night air felt good.

Noah was casual the whole way. Easy to pretend nothing heavy had gone down at the bar.

When they pulled up to the house, Noah cut the engine and grabbed Liam’s shoulder. “Heads up. Parents are home, so…” He smirked. “No drama. No noise.”

Liam blinked, fuzzily. “Dude, you’re, like… nineteen. Why do I feel like I’m the kid sneaking in?”

Noah grinned, teeth flashing in the dark. “’Cause you kinda are. Come on.”

They slipped inside quietly. The place was dim—just a soft glow from the kitchen light. Liam kicked his shoes off and shrugged out of his jacket, trying not to stumble.

Noah grabbed himself a beer and poured Liam a drink—heavier than before. Not like the bar.

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. “Bro, why am I the only one drinking? You’ve been nursing that same beer since the bar.”

Noah smirked, already handing him the glass. “What are you on about? I’m drunk as fuck, dude.”

Liam frowned. “I dunno…”

“You just can’t hold your liquor.” Noah leaned in, bumping Liam’s arm. “Admit it.”

Liam rolled his eyes but took the glass anyway. The liquor burned smooth this time. Probably because his mouth was already numb.

They flopped down on the couch. Some random show played in the background, volume low. Neither of them watched.

“Man…” Liam exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Your couch is gonna have my ass groove by the end of the month.”

“Maybe I’ll get it engraved.” Noah grinned. “Your name. Right here.” He slapped the cushion between them. “Ass of Liam.”

Liam groaned, laughing. “Shut the fuck up.”

It just flowed between them. Effortless.

The drinks kept coming. Noah refilled Liam’s glass more often than his own. His limbs felt heavy. Head loose. Not quite spinning, but close.

At some point, they both slouched back. Sprawled.

Noah leaned back, stretching his arms overhead with a low groan. “Man, leg day killed me this afternoon.”

He bent down, pulled his sneakers off, and peeled off his socks like it was the most casual thing in the world.

Liam didn’t think much of it. Until Noah shifted sideways on the couch. His legs swung up—feet planting against the cushion right beside Liam’s head.

The smell hit instantly. That sharp, humid tang. Sweat. Leather. Warm skin.

Liam’s confused eyes squinting.

Noah didn’t say a word. Just kept scrolling his phone with one hand, like nothing was out of the ordinary. His toes flexed slowly, almost absently, stretching after a long day.

Liam should’ve moved. Should’ve said something. But it was like his mind short-circuited.

Instead, he tried to lean back—just a little. Enough to get some space. But Noah’s heel shifted too, brushing the cushion closer to his ear.

The smell deepened. Rich. Heavy. His pulse thudded in his neck.

“Jesus…” Liam muttered before he could stop himself. “Dude—you seriously brought all of leg day home?”

His voice was rough. Half-joking. Trying to keep it light.

Noah glanced over, finally pulling his eyes from his phone. Grinning. “Oh, yeah.” He wiggled his toes. “Went fucking beast mode today. You like it?” He teased.

“Fuck off.” Liam teased back.

Then Noah leaned in, voice dropping a little. “Hey. My parents could wake up early. If they catch you passed out half-naked in here…” He grinned. “Kinda hard to explain, man.”

Liam blinked slow, brain catching up.

Noah squeezed his shoulder. “Come crash in my room. Couch sucks anyway.”

The casual offer. No weight to it. Like it was just a friend looking out.

Liam nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

He stood up a little too fast, balance swaying. Noah caught his elbow, steadying him.

“Easy there, big guy.” Noah chuckled. “Can’t have you wiping out on the stairs.”

Noah’s room was clean-ish. Weights stacked in one corner. Clothes tossed over a chair. A gaming rig humming softly in the dark.

The bed? A fucking queen size. Big enough for two without having to touch. Not that they were gonna do that.

Noah shut the door behind them. “Don’t make noise, yeah? Mom’s a light sleeper.”

Liam nodded, toeing off his shoes. His buzz was steady now—warm but not messy. Just enough to take the edge off the night. He moved toward the bed automatically, grabbing the side closest to the wall.

Noah laughed. “Bro. It’s not prison. You don’t have to wedge yourself into a corner.”

But he didn’t push. Just grabbed a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser and headed to the bathroom.

Liam sat down heavy. The mattress dipped under him. Sleep. That’s all he needed. Sleep.

The toilet flushed. Water ran. A minute later, Noah came back out—barefoot, in tight black boxer briefs that clung to his frame like a second skin.

“Fuck,” Noah muttered, flopping into his gaming chair. “Been sexting this new chick all day. I’m dying here.”

He fired up his computer. Porn loaded instantly.

“Don’t mind me. You can crash. I’ll be quiet.”

The lights went off. The only glow came from the monitor.

At first, he could only hear the moaning from the girl in the video. Then, the wet sounds emerged, coming from Noah.

It should’ve been easy to ignore. But the room was dark. Too quiet. Except for the heavy bassline of the porn and the slick rhythm of Noah’s fist.

Liam kept his eyes shut at first. Tried to breathe slow. Pretend to sleep.

But every time he inhaled, all he got was Noah’s scent—sharp and humid.

Noah wasn’t holding back at all. Did he really not mind this?

Liam shifted under the blanket, thighs pressing together. His cock had been hard since the video started. Now it hurt. The head was trapped against the elastic of his waistband, leaking like crazy. His abs were sticky with pre already.

Just ride it out. Don’t move. Don’t be a fucking creep.

But the slick sound kept going. And now the chair creaked.

Noah was moving. Turning.

Liam cracked his eyes open—barely.

Noah’s chair faced him now. His frame lit only by the faint glow of the paused video behind him. His abs flexed with every stroke. His cock was huge, red at the tip, veins stark along the shaft. He wasn’t close yet, but his breath was ragged. Focused.

Then he looked down. Right at Liam.

And grinned.

“Dude…?”

Liam froze. His heart stopped. His heart in his throat.

“Uh… yeah?”

Noah’s eyes dragged over him—right to the blanket. The huge, unmistakable tent pitched at his lap. A dark patch of pre soaked the front.

“You’re gonna stain my sheets, man.” Noah’s grin widened. “Take it off. I didn’t even know you were getting off too. Come over here so you can watch it too, this one’s too good”

Like this was nothing. Like it was funny.

Liam hesitated. His pulse spiked. His cock jerked without permission.

Noah’s grin didn’t fade. “C’mon, man. You’re already hard as fuck. Might as well enjoy the video too.”

And his body was already moving slowly.

He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. A little wobbly from the booze. He hesitated halfway to Noah’s chair.

Noah glanced back. “Dude, just sit down. You’re drunk—you’ll trip and faceplant.”

Before Liam could argue, Noah got up from the chair, grabbed his wrist and tugged him gently down into it.

The second Liam sat, Noah leaned down beside him, grabbing the mouse. The porn unpaused. Moans filled the room again.

“Go on.” Noah’s voice was easy. Almost teasing. “I’m not jerking alone, bro. Handle yours.”

Liam’s throat tightened. His cock strained against his waistband, wet at the tip.

He swallowed hard—and shoved his briefs down. His cock sprang free.

His fingers wrapped around the shaft automatically. He started slow. Just enough to take the edge off.

He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking steady.

Noah stayed standing. Right beside the chair. Fisting his own cock at a constant pace.

The head was almost level with Liam’s eyes. Thick. Veiny. Pre-cum glistened at the slit.

Liam could smell it. Musky. Warm. The scent hit his throat like a punch. It was… masculine.

Noah’s voice dropped, still watching the screen. “Goddamn. Look how hungry she is. That’s the best part.”

Liam tried to focus on the video. He couldn’t. Noah’s dick was too close for him to relax.

Noah shifted closer—like he didn’t even notice.

The fat head brushed Liam’s shoulder. Sticky pre-cum smeared across his skin. An accident, obviously.

Noah didn’t comment. Kept stroking. Breathing heavy.

Then he shifted again. The head dragged higher. Across Liam’s neck. Once. And then twice more at his jawline.

Pre-cum smeared against his throat, tacky and hot.

Liam’s cock pulsed in his fist. He almost stopped.

Noah noticed, leaned in slightly, casual as ever. “Shit. Sorry, man.” He chuckled. “Didn’t mean to get my shit on you.”

Liam didn’t answer. His whole body tensed.

They continued for a few minutes. The musky scent was overwhelming now.

The next stroke dragged the head across Liam’s cheek, Noah’s pre smearing into his skin. Liam didn’t know how to react—so he didn’t.

Noah finally glanced down. Grinning. “Oh, dude.”

Like it was funny. Like it was normal.

Noah swiped his thumb along Liam’s cheek, wiping some of the slick away.

“There I go again. Sorry, little buddy.”

His voice was low. Too casual. Like he wasn’t fully hard and dripping inches from Liam’s face.

Then.

“Hey… Speaking of it, have you ever tasted your pre before?”

Liam froze. His fist stopped moving automatically.

“What?” His voice was rough. Unsteady.

Noah just smirked, lazy and relaxed. “Pre-cum. You ever tasted it?”

Liam shook his head fast. “No. Why the fuck would I?”

Noah chuckled. “Chill, bro. Was just wondering.” He stroked himself slow. “Some girls say it’s bitter. Some say it’s sweet. Depends on the guy apparently.”

He let that hang for a second, then grinned wider. “You might be the bitter type.”

His face flushed. “I’m not.”

“You don’t know that.” Noah’s grin widened. “Never tried.”

“I’m not tasting that shit.”

“Suit yourself.” Noah shrugged. “But might be why Camila stopped blowing you.”

The words hit like a punch. Liam was stunned. His cock throbbed with humiliation but he stopped stroking momentarily.

Noah saw it. His grin faded—just a bit. Voice softer now. “Hey. I’m not saying it’s true. She was a crazy cun alrightt. Just saying…” His hand stroked again, lazy. “If you knew for sure, you wouldn’t have to worry about that shit anymore. You’d know you’re fine.”

Liam didn’t answer.

Noah added, “Girls notice that stuff. You never wondered why some get lazy with head?”

Liam wasn’t even aware there was still a video playing but he kept his eyes glued to the screen, pulse spiking. “No one ever complained.”

“Yeah? They’re never gonna say it, but maybe that’s why it happens.” Noah’s voice dropped. “Bro. I’m just saying—it’s science. Like a quality check. No big deal.”

Liam remained quiet. All the while he could smell Noah’s cock right there on his face.

His cock throbbed. Pre soaked his hand. There was so much now it was slippery in his fist.

Noah’s eyes dropped to it, then smirked. “Shit. You’ve got enough for a taste test already.”

He grinned, easy and teasing. “It’s too much… You’re probably the bitter type.”

Liam’s brain scrambled for an out. Any excuse. But he was tired by now, he just wanted to cum and crash the fuck out and if Noah wasn’t gonna drop it…

Just a sample, right?

Finally—quiet as hell—he muttered: “Fine…”

Liam held his body stiff . His cock throbbed in his fist—wet and slippery. His whole body was tight.

Just a little. That’s it. It came out of him. No big deal.

Noah’s voice dropped lower. Calm. Steady. Like he was spotting Liam at the bench again.

“Go ahead, little buddy.” His grin was slow. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Liam swallowed. Chest rising fast.

Before he could overthink it, he brought his free hand up. Swiped two fingers through the slick head of his cock, gathering the drop of pre-cum hanging there. His stomach tightened. Skin buzzing like a live wire.

He hesitated. Just for a second.

Then pressed the fingers to his tongue.

The taste hit—salty, warm, faintly bitter but not awful. It melted over his tongue quick. Almost sweet underneath the salt.

His face reddened, stomach twisting—but his cock pulsed even harder in his fist.

Noah leaned in slightly, still stroking himself, voice low and encouraging.

“Yeah. That’s it. See? How does it taste?”

“Not like much to be honest.” Liam said, flat.

The grin grew. “Told you it wouldn’t be bad.”

His eyes flicked down, watching Liam’s mouth. “Salty? Sweet?”

Liam didn’t want to answer. He just swallowed hard. His chest felt tight. Embarrassed and turned on all at once.

Noah chuckled anyway. “Good, man.”

His knee nudged Liam’s thigh. “See? You’re not the bitter type after all. That’s good.”

The praise slipped right into Liam’s veins. Hot. Humiliating. His cock throbbed in his slick grip.

“Now,” Noah added, voice warm. “Finish up for me.”

Liam blinked. His brain stalled for a second.

“Huh?” His voice came out rough, confused, scared even. “No, man, you’re… you’re already jerking off.”

Noah didn’t skip a beat. “Yeah. And I fucking hate it. You know that.”

He stroked himself slow, head glistening under the glow of the paused video. “Been telling you forever—‘I hate jerking off’.”

Liam’s brows drew together. His hand stayed frozen on his own cock.

“You—” he shook his head slightly, heartbeat racing. “You’re standing there doing it anyway.”

Noah smirked, like he was explaining something obvious. “Cause your drunk ass can’t stand up. If you weren’t plastered, we’d both be lying down right now.”

His cock brushed Liam’s shoulder again, smearing another hot stripe of pre-cum against his skin.

Liam flinched—but didn’t pull away.

“It’s not that deep, little buddy,” Noah went on. “Just give me a hand. Like before. Remember?”

Liam’s heart slammed in his chest. His mind scrambled for an out. “I—I already tasted the pre, dude. That’s enough.”

Noah chuckled, low and easy. “That was nothing. You didn’t even flinch.”

He nodded down. “Your hand’s already slick, man. You’re dripping like crazy. Just use that. And then after that I’ll let you cum, deal?”

…Let him?

A part of his brain flagged it as weird. The phrasing. The idea. Like Noah had any say over when he could cum. But another part—tired, drunk, horny as fuck—felt like it made sense.

Noah had been calling the shots all night. Setting the pace. Making things easier. Less complicated.

And God… Liam was so close already. His balls ached. His cock was soaked in his own pre. He just wanted to finish and crash.

He swallowed.

“…Ok.” Liam sighed and grabbed his friend’s cock.

Liam’s fist worked Noah’s cock steady now. His palm was slick—not just from his own pre, but from Noah’s. It was everywhere. His knuckles, his abs even glistened faintly with stray smears.

“You should jerk yours too. That way we can save time” Noah said and Liam obeyed without saying a word like he just wanted things to be over.

He tried not to think about it. Just focused on getting Noah off. Fast. So this could be over and he could finally cum.

Noah moaned low. His hips flexed. The head of his cock flushed darker, wet with fresh pre leaking into Liam’s grip.

“That’s it,” Noah murmured. “Fuck… feels so good, little buddy.”

Minutes passed. Liam’s hand never stopped. His own cock ached. His abs clenched with every stroke. He could feel pre-cum dribbling down his shaft, pooling at his base. Sticky and hot.

Then Noah’s eyes dipped to his face.

“Hey…” His voice dropped. “You got something.”

Liam froze half-aware. “What?”

Noah smirked. “Upper lip. Right side.”

Without thinking, Liam dragged two fingers from the hand he was jerking Noah with across his mouth—just trying to wipe whatever was there.

But the second he did, Noah smiled.

“Bro.” His eyes gleamed. “That hand’s fucking soaked in my pre.”

Liam stiffened. His stomach flipped. His heart kicked into his throat.

“You just got it in your mouth.” He chuckled.

Noah leaned in, low and easy. Liam’s breath smelled faintly of booze.

“So… how’s it taste?”

His chest went hollow. His mouth tingled where his wrist had smeared across. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing. It was instinct. Automatic.

“I—I didn’t mean to—”

Noah’s grin widened. “Didn’t mean to?” He chuckled again, low. “Bro, you just licked my pre without even thinking.”

Liam’s face burned. His hand faltered on Noah’s cock—but Noah tapped his bud’s wrist, steadying it.

“Keep going, you can talk and move your hand, can’t you?” he murmured. “Feels too fucking good to stop.”

Liam swallowed. His throat was dry. His fingers resumed the slow, steady stroke.

Noah’s cock pulsed in his grip. Pre leaked fresh, slicking down over Liam’s knuckles.

“That’s it.” Noah’s voice softened. “See? You’ve already crossed the line. No big deal.”

Liam’s heart slammed. He didn’t respond. Just kept stroking both their cocks as if he was watching it happen from outside his body. Noah’s grin turned sharp.

“Bet it’s sweeter than yours, huh?”

Liam shook his head automatically. “I—I wasn’t even tasting it—”

“Yeah?” Noah leaned closer. His cock nudged forward on Liam’s hand. “You sure? ‘Cause you didn’t spit it out.”

Liam’s eyes were heretic. His face flushed deeper.

“You just kept stroking your dick.” Noah’s tone was pure confidence now. “Didn’t even pause. Like you liked it.”

Liam opened his mouth to deny it—but nothing came out.

Noah’s smile softened. “Bro.” His grip tightened briefly on Liam’s wrist. “I told you. It’s just science. You’ve already done half the work.”

He nodded toward Liam’s messy hand. “Since your hand’s dripping in my pre already…” His eyes locked on Liam’s. “Why don’t you tell me for real how mine tastes?”

Liam froze. His stomach clenched. His cock throbbed painfully hard.

“I—I’m not—”

Noah cut in, smooth. “You’re already jerking me off, little buddy. Already tasted yourself. Already got my pre in your mouth by accident. What’s the fucking big deal? Jesus.”

His voice dropped lower. Almost a purr.

“Bet it’s better than yours. I can feel how fucking sweet it is just by the way it keeps flowing out of my dick.”

The porn kept playing in the background—wet sounds and breathy moans. The slick noise of Liam’s fist on Noah’s cock.

Liam’s head spun. The room felt too hot. His cock ached— Why the fuck was he so turned on?

His eyes darted to Noah’s face. Then to his hand. His knuckles were shining with pre. Some fresh, some already tacky from the air.

Noah’s grin was steady. Patient.

“Do it,” he said softly. “Don’t you wanna cum?”

Liam’s heart slammed in his chest. His hand hadn’t stopped stroking Noah’s cock. He couldn’t make it stop. His body felt disconnected—like he was just along for the ride.

“I don’t know man… that’s kinda intense.” Liam said, barely above a whisper.

“Bro, what? It’s not like I’m asking you to suck me off.” Noah murmured again. “It’s not a big deal. And then I’ll let you cum.”

That ‘let you’ made Liam’s stomach twist again. But he had no energy to argue. He couldn’t. He just wanted all this to be fucking done.

His hand trembled. Slowly, almost detached, he lifted two fingers to his lips—the same fingers slick with Noah’s prefuck. He hesitated. His breath shuddered.

Noah leaned in, breath warm. “That’s it…”

Liam’s pulse roared in his ears. He pressed his tongue out and swiped it along the pads of his fingers.

The taste hit him immediately—salty, slightly sweet, a weirdly clean tang that made his gut clench. Much stronger taste than his own. His cock twitched hard in his fist.

Noah’s grin sharpened. “There you go.” His voice dropped lower. “Didn’t gag. Didn’t even spit it out. Proud of you, man”

Liam’s cheeks burned. His whole face burned. His throat felt tight.

“That’s the hottest shit I’ve ever seen, little buddy.”

Noah’s cock pulsed in his hand, leaking fresh over Liam’s knuckles again.

“Now…” Noah licked his own lips slowly. “Since you’re already tasting me…” He nodded to Liam’s fist. “Get me off. And then you can cum.”

Liam swallowed. “Okay, Noah…” He nodded, defeated.

His hand resumed stroking for both of them, more deliberate now. He could feel how hard Noah was—how close. Every pass of his fist gathered more slick.

Noah’s breathing deepened. “Fuck… that’s it. Look at you.” His hips flexed gently into Liam’s strokes.

Liam shook his head automatically. His own cock throbbed painfully in his grip. He was so close it hurt.

“You’re fuckin’ dripping, man. You feel how wet your own cock is?” Noah’s tone was steady, dark. “Soon, little buddy, just get me off first, ok?

Liam’s breath hitched. His abs clenched tight. He wished Noah would stop talking.

“Keep going.” Noah’s voice dipped into a growl. “Yeah… Don’t you fucking stop”

A minute later, Noah’s thighs tensed. His abs flexed. “Fuck—fuck, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum on you”

His cock pulsed hard in Liam’s fist. Cum spilled hot across Liam’s knuckles, painting his wrist and smearing down his abs and even his dick. Some even hit his shoulder. Again, so much fucking jizz.

Noah’s head dropped back with a groan. “Fucking A, man.”

Liam froze, hand still wrapped around Noah’s shaft, feeling the last pulses of his release.

“Your turn,” Noah whispered. “Go ahead. You earned it.” But he didn’t move away, he still had his half-hard cock way too close to Liam’s face.

Liam’s temples throbbed. His hand moved instinctively, stroking himself faster now, desperate. Liam could feel Noah’s cum slicking his own dick, but he was past caring by that point, he just wanted to go to cum and sleep. Wet sounds kept mingling with the fading moans from the porn still playing in the background.

“Duuuude.” Noah’s tone was soft, filthy. “You’re Jerking off with my cum all over your abs. I can even see it’s lubbing you up, right?”

The words hit like a piano dropped on his head. Liam whimpered. His toes curled. “Stop…” The words broke out uneven. “Please, just stop talking…”

Liam’s hand worked fast now, slick and desperate. His abs clenched under the mess of Noah’s cum, his own cock throbbing like crazy.

But Noah didn’t stop talking.

“Bro, you’re stroking like it’s the only thing that matters.” He laughed. “You really need to cum, huh?”

Liam whimpered again—but he didn’t tell him to stop this time. He was too close to focus on anything else.

His whole body tensed. His breath hitched in shallow, ragged gasps. His toes curled hard.

Then—

His orgasm hit. Overwhelming. His hips jerked up into his fist.

Pathetic little yelps escaped his throat with every pulse. His cock spilled hot over his abs, mixing with Noah’s already foaming cum across his skin. The sound he made wasn’t even a moan—more like helpless noises he couldn’t hold back.

“Fuck…” Noah breathed. “That’s it. Let it out, little buddy. Just like that.”

Liam kept stroking through it, even as his muscles trembled and the last of his cum spilled over his fist.

When it finally subsided, he collapsed back onto the chair. His chest heaved. His face burned. For a moment, neither of them moved. Just the sound of their breathing. The fading moans from the porn.

Then Liam blinked blearily, reality creeping back in. And it felt heavy as fuck.

“…Where’s your shower?” Liam’s voice was hoarse, exhausted. “I need to—I need to clean up.” He felt sick.

Noah looked at him, low. “Dude. You can’t.”

Liam frowned, brain foggy. “What?”

“I told you. My parents are asleep. The pipes are loud as fuck. You’ll wake ’em.”

Liam couldn’t believe it. He looked down at himself—skin streaked with both their cum, glistening in the dim light.

He was trapped. Dirty. Vulnerable.

Noah just smiled, calm and threw something at him. “Here wipe yourself off with your underwear and just crash. Deal with it in the morning. Weren’t you desperate for sleep?”

Liam’s heart raced. He sighed, giving up. He nodded slowly, even as his gut clenched.

He wiped his torso, slow and mechanical. His hands moved without thinking, but no matter how much he scrubbed, the stickiness clung to his skin. So did the weight of what they’d done.

---

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It was not only my first time going to the club, it was the first time I was going to see the man I was going there to meet. I’d only moved to London about a month ago to start my new job having recently finished my PhD at one of the Scottish universities near where I grew up. So much change and so much to adjust to, having been in relatively small towns and cities all my life. London seemed so vast and somewhat daunting.

But I knew I wanted to try this, to do this at least once and to either get the itch out of my system, or to know that it was really for me. As a 28 year old guy, it was time to spread my wings a bit.

I got out of the tube at the stop he’d told me was nearest and looked up how to get to the club on my phone. Seven minutes walk it said. I looked at my watch – I was about ten minutes early, so I took a seat on one of the benches outside a Wagamama near the station, trying not to let my nerves get the better of me. My cock was half hard in anticipation, but the apprehension was preventing a full erection.

Ten minutes of rather anxious scrolling on my phone later, I texted him.

<>

I sent a ‘thumbs up’ emoji and set off.

The entrance to the club was just a door in a row of shops. The map had brought me to the other side of the road from it and, as I waited for the crossing lights to change, three men opened it and went in. Two were together, a tall white guy probably about my age and a shorter, handsome Indian-looking guy of about forty, I guessed. The third was a really pretty (I can’t think of another way of describing him) Asian lad who couldn’t have been much more than twenty. At least it looked like there would be a mix of men there, I thought.

Screwing my courage to the sticking place (sorry, my PhD is in English Literature so…), I crossed over the road and opened the door. It opened directly onto a set of very steep steps going down to a small space where there was a window to pay. The two men that had come in together were at the window and the Asian lad was waiting beside them. But standing apart from them, looking directly at me as I walked down the stairs was the man I had come to meet.

I’d seen his picture, of course, and had his stats, but it’s always slightly different when you see them in person. Slightly taller than me at 6’1”, and four years older, he was slim and looked like he’d come straight from work (which he had, I later learnt), in a pair of smart pale chinos, a button-down light green shirt and a lightweight cotton sweater. He was wearing brown loafers without socks. His silver rimmed spectacles glinted in the harsh overhead light and he was smiling at me as I approached.

“Hi Fergus,” he said, slightly unexpectedly pulling me into a hug, “It’s really good to meet you at last!”

“Hi Josh, yeah, great to meet you,” I said as we broke the hug.

“I’ve already paid for both of us,” Josh said, as he waved to the guy behind the window and pushed open the door into the club proper,  “The changing room is just through here,” he said, opening a door immediately on the left, “You’re ready for this?”

My half hard cock twitched.

“Yep, I’m ready!”

“Good lad,” Josh said, as he pushed open the door to the changing room.

I noticed that Josh was already wearing a purple wristband.

The couple and the Asian lad were already there. As Josh took a large plastic bag from a cage full of them, the Asian lad pulled down his briefs and added them to the rest of his clothes in a similar bag. Just wearing the trainers and socks he came in, he smiled at us as he left the room. The older man of the couple was topless and undoing his trousers as the younger one sat waiting. 

Josh sat down on the bench along from the couple with the bag beside him. My nerves were jangling, but I stood in front of him and pulled my t-shirt over my head and handed it to him. Unlike the Asian lad, I needed to take my trainers off to get my jeans off and I could see the older guy sitting doing the same out of the corner of my eye. Handing my jeans to Josh to fold and put in the bag, my boxers were tenting as my cock rose to full mast. Josh smiled wickedly at me and raised an eyebrow.

Nothing wagered, nothing won, I thought, as I hooked my fingers into the waistband and pulled my boxers off. My cock sprang up and I felt myself blush as I handed my pants to Josh and bent to put my trainers back on. The first couple had left the room without my noticing, but another couple had taken their place. Like them and us, one of them was sitting waiting fully clothed, while the other stripped. These two were both in their mid-thirties, I reckoned. The clothed guy was a very handsome black man and the one undressing looked like Josh, like someone in the City. But, unlike Josh, he was quickly removing his smart suit, tie and shirt. He hadn’t been wearing pants, and I was pleased to see that he was as hard as I was as he handed his trousers to the black guy to put in the bag. He flashed me a brilliant smile as he caught my eye.

Now completely naked apart from my white socks and trainers, Josh pulled a yellow wristband from his pocket and fixed it around my wrist.

“Everyone who comes to the club is either a CM or an NM, there’s no inbetween. Those of us who are CMs wear these purple bands and you NMs wear yellow. That way everyone knows where they stand.”

Having explained this, Josh picked up the bag with my stuff and we headed out of the changing room. In front of us was a hatch where the guy taking the money was also manning the cloakroom. Josh put the bag on the ledge and the guy greeted him warmly.

“Hi Josh, nice to see you! You’re number 30 – it’s already quite busy in there.”

“That’s what we like to hear, isn’t it Fergus?” he said, turning to me and winking.

I flushed again and stammered,

“Um, yeah, that’s cool,” and immediately felt like an idiot.

The cloakroom guy wrote the number 30 on the band around Josh’s wrist and I watched as he took the bag containing my clothes round the corner and out of my sight. Not only had my clothes been safely stored away, Josh had the band which gave access to them, not me.

Josh thanked him and, pushing open the swing door on his left, said,

“Come on then, Fergus, let’s get a drink!’

Although I’d been naked in gym and pool changing rooms before, and had been naked one to one with clothed guys, this was my first time naked around a group of clothed men like this. But it was what I had been fantasising about for so long that I was slightly worried I was just going to cum without any stimulation from the situation! When I’d started chatting with Josh online months ago as I was planning my move, I was surprised but very turned on when he told me about this relatively new monthly club called ‘(Un)bared’ which was aimed at guys, like him and myself, who get turned on by CMNM scenes – Clothed Male, Naked Male. Josh had been a couple of times before and said that it had been quite full and good fun, which made my mind up for me that I had to try it.

The door opened into a bar, with a separate area to our right which was a relatively open play area. From somewhere in the club there was the unmistakable sound of more than one bare bottom being spanked. There were probably twenty guys in the bar area. Josh and I walked to the bar and he asked me what I wanted to drink. We both had a can of Stella and moved away so I could take in the scene.

There was a good mix of men. Everyone there was either fully dressed or fully naked – there was nothing in between. No-one was topless, or just in his pants. There was also a range of guys of different ages, races and body types. Josh and I chatted as if it was completely normal for him to be in his smart work clothes while I was completely bare with a rock hard cock. As we chatted and got to know each other a bit, I looked around the bar.

The couple that had come in before us were on the opposite side from the bar. The CM was standing chatting to an older, stocky CM who was in a formal suit. The Indian NM was kneeling beside his ‘friend’, holding his drink and I noticed for the first time that his cock was locked away in a small bright pink chastity cage. Kneeling naked beside the suited guy was a very muscular and tanned NM of much the same age. His dick was locked in a cage matching the Indian guy’s. I couldn’t see the other couple that had been changing initially but after a few minutes they came down the step opposite the end of the bar and when they went to get a drink I could see that the NM was one of those whom I had heard being spanked, as his bottom was now pink.

Josh spotted a friend across the bar and led me towards him. The man greeted Josh warmly and the two of them hugged.

“Hi Andreas, I wondered if I’d see you tonight!” Josh turned towards me, “This is my new friend Fergus. He’s only recently moved to London and I said I’d bring him along tonight.”

I thought that Andreas was going to shake my hand but, instead, he grasped my cock at the root and shook that!

“Hi Fergus, very nice to meet you,” he said.

Andreas was wearing rugby kit and fitted into it very nicely. I could see a sizeable bulge in the front of his tight shorts.

“How are you finding (Un)Bared, then, Fergus? I can see you’re enjoying yourself already,” he said, still holding tightly to my dick. I could feel myself blushing again.

“It’s certainly an eyeopener! It’s my first experience of CMNM with a group. I’ve only done it in one on one settings before. I was quite surprised when Josh told me about the club when we were chatting online.”

“Yeah, this is only the sixth month that it’s run. But it’s been getting popular. There was another night at one of the other clubs a while ago, but that basically turned into just a naked night pretty quickly – at least here the rules are quite clear that if you start out clothed, you stay that way and vice versa. We purple lads aren’t even supposed to take our tops off. And ideally, we don’t even drop our shorts for other fun”

Andreas grinned at me and I blushed again as my cock twitched in his hand and he squeezed it slightly harder.

“Right, Andreas, you old perv, take your mitts of Fergus’s willy.” Josh said playfully, “shall we have a wander around, Fergus?”

“Sure,” I said, as Andreas released me.

“See you later, I hope,” he said with that wicked grin.

I followed Josh along a narrow corridor away from the bar. Partway along on the right was an alcove in which a CM who must have been in his late sixties at least was sitting. Over his lap was the Asian NM that had come in when we did and he was getting a very thorough spanking. The bare lad was squirming and yelping and the older man was holding his hand in the small of his back to stop him protecting his exposed bottom. Josh and I stood and watched for a moment or two and the older man smiled up at us as we did. Josh’s hand had been resting on my bare buttock and he gave me a sharp smack as the older man watched.

“Your bottom will be getting reddened soon, young Fergus,”Josh whispered in my ear and I blushed yet again and my cock twitched, which made him smile.

We walked to the end of the corridor to where it widened out. There was a small group of clothed guys standing around a kneeling naked one. The four CMs ranged in age, size and outfit. One was young, probably early twenties, and in tracksuit and a t shirt. One was elderly, probably 70s, short and slim and in a suit. The third looked to be in his forties and was a large bear type, with a beard and in jeans and a polo shirt. The fourth was an Arab guy, wearing very nice chinos like Josh with a blazer and a designer polo shirt. All four of the CMs had their cocks out of their flies and the NM was taking each of them in his mouth in turn. He was probably in his early fifties, with a dad bod covered in grey hair.

“That’s Stewart,” Josh said, referring to the NM, “He’ll be on his knees there for most of the evening taking whatever cocks he’s offered.”

Leaving Stewart to his work, we walked past the toilets to a large open space with a TV which was showing CMNM porn.

Around the room were benches which were mainly occupied by CMs. Five NMs were on their knees in front of CMs, sucking their cocks as the NMs watched the TV. Two very handsome Asian CMs were sitting chatting while a very tall black NM knelt before them and was licking and sucking on their bare feet. They were paying no attention to him at all as he worshipped them. 

Not everyone was having sex, though. There were a few CM/NM couples just sitting chatting. At the end of the room was a partitioned off space and two CMs were standing watching as a large-bellied CM was fucking an NM bent over a school desk.

Josh led me back out of the play space.

“All OK, Fergus?” he asked, “Not too much for you?”

I gestured to my still rock hard cock,

“Um, not at all!” I said.

“Your parents gave you the wrong name, young man,” Josh said, taking hold of my genitals for the first time and stroking me gently, “they should’ve called you ‘Everard’!”

We headed back along the narrow corridor, this time with Josh leading me by his grip on my cock and balls. Stewart was on his knees with just one CM this time, but the CM was fucking his face with some vigour. In the alcove, the Asian NM was standing with his hands on his head and his red bottom facing the corridor while the older CM had another NM over his knee, this time a middle-aged guy who looked like he could’ve managed the post office back home, except he was bare and getting his bottom well and truly reddened.

Passing the bar, we walked down another corridor. On our left was another play area where an extremely tall blond NM in his thirties was in a sling with an older CM fucking him and two other CMs either side being wanked off by the tall NM. He looked up at us as we paused to watch and winked. A couple of other CMs were watching him getting pounded as he gasped and groaned from the cock in his hole.

We passed several guys as we moved through the club, and most of the CMs patted my bum or tweaked a nipple as they passed. Josh used his free hand to do the same to any NMs. He’d told me to expect that as an NM – once you were naked, groping was fine from any of the CMs, anything more required explicit consent and if asked to stop, then they should stop.

Just beyond the area with the sling were a couple of closed cubicles and a gloryhole area which was not being used – no need really on a night like this. At the end of the corridor we turned right into a large open playspace. This was obviously the orgy room. The lights were low and there were numerous NMs either on their knees sucking cock, or bent over and being fucked. Josh said hi to a few CMs that he knew, but then we headed back to the bar.

Just at the top of the steps before the bar was a curtained off alcove. Josh pushed the curtain aside and led me in. It was empty. As Josh sat down on the bench along the wall opposite the curtain he said,

“I think it is past time for my hand to get acquainted with your bare bottom. Don’t you, young man?”

My cock twitched again and I nodded silently.

Josh patted his lap and I moved to him and lay over it. He manoeuvered my legs so that my cheeks were slightly parted and so that my hard cock was pointing down beside his thigh rather than rubbing between my belly and his leg. After fondling and caressing my bum for a few moments, he began to spank me. Gently at first, just warming me up, but it wasn’t long before he was spanking me pretty hard and I was squirming and moaning over his knee. I was vaguely aware of the curtain moving, but I couldn’t see with my head dangling. Josh spanked me firmly, varying his pace, coverage and force. Every now and then, a harder spank or one on the top of my thigh made me gasp or whimper. At some point, I grasped his ankle with my right hand, and I put my left arm around his back so I could feel even closer to him while he reddened my bottom.

When I was really whimpering, Josh stopped spanking me and began stroking my bottom, his fingers straying to my exposed hole and working their way down to my balls and then to my cock. He stroked my cock with one hand, while he bent down and kissed me. After a moment or two he pulled me up so I was sitting on his lap and we embraced and kissed passionately. My bum felt hot and scratchy against his chinos, but I could feel his hard cock inside them as we snogged. Eventually, he patted my bum and said,

“Now, that’s how I like my bare boys – on heat and with a heated bottom!”

We both laughed and he suggested we go get another drink.

As I got off his lap, I saw that we had been being watched by a few guys. The black CM and his NM were against the wall and the CM held his hand out to Josh, who shook it firmly,

“Hi there, man, I enjoyed watching that! I’m Ugo and this is Darren,” he indicated the NM with him, “You two been together long?”

Josh laughed,

“Nope, although we’ve been chatting, I only met Fergus here tonight.”

The CM did like Andreas had done, and shook me by the root of my cock as he said hi. Darren said hi to both Josh and I – Josh shook his cock and Darren gave me a hug.

“Darren and I have been together for three years now,” Ugo said, “ and he’s barely worn a stitch outside work since. I’d love to see him over your knee, Josh, if you were up for that?”

“We’re just about to get a drink,” Josh replied, “Come join us and then I can redden Darren after that.”

“Sound good to me,” Ugo said, “I’d also like to have young Fergus here on his knees for me, if that’s OK?”

“He’s not serviced me yet,” Josh said, with a smile, “but when he has, his mouth is all yours. That OK with you, young man?” he asked, looking at me.

“Of course!” I said, my cock twitching at the thought of sucking off both Josh and this other handsome guy.

The four of us stood at the bar chatting for a while. I was still slightly wide-eyed watching the various interactions, etc., in the club. At the end of the bar was a very overweight CM chatting to an older CM. Kneeling before them were two NMs, one an asian twink in his early twenties, the other a guy who must have been in his seventies. Despite the huge gap in ages, the two NMs were both being treated the same – the twink was sucking off the overweight guy and the old NM doing the same to the older CM. Neither CM was paying any attention to the NMs, they were just chatting as if nothing else was happening.

Sitting on stools opposite the bar were two CMs in their forties, the only two I’d seen in full leather. Kneeling beside them were three NMs, all handsome young men in very good shape, and all with chastity cages on their cocks. When one of them was sent to get drinks at the bar, I saw that he had a set of angry red and fresh cane welts across his buttocks.

I was chatting with Darren about his relationship with Ugo when Josh said,

“Time to make yourself useful, young Fergus. On your knees.”

I swallowed hard – I was so turned on, but was also still slightly nervous about sucking cock in the open like this. But I knew I needed to do this.

“You too, Darren,” Ugo said.

We smiled at each other and knelt down in front of our respective CMs. I followed Daren’s lead in unzipping Josh’s chinos and fishing his semi-erect cock out. It was a decent length, but thick. I looked at Ugo’s as Darren started to take him in his mouth and gulped. I was going to have to suck that as well and it was definitely the thickest cock I had ever seen in the flesh. Probably about the same length as Josh’s cock which I was holding as I saw Darren swallowing, Ugo’s was way thicker.

Josh patted my cheek gently to remind me what I was supposed to be doing and I returned my attention to him. His cock was now fully erect and that and his heavy, low-hanging balls were fully out of his fly now. I began sucking gently, feeling him fill my mouth. Like the other two NMs at the bar, Darren and I were completely ignored as the CMs whose cocks we were sucking in front of everyone chatted and got to know each other.

Earned: The First Lessons

A Jax & Tre Story (Book One)

—A South Side Story—

---

Preface

There’s a difference between having control—

and being control.

Tre Richmond always thought he was the one in charge. Built like a beast, confident as hell, with a body that made most men fold. But Jax Carter didn’t flinch. Didn’t compete. He just watched—and waited.

Because Jax knows something Tre’s still learning:

Real power doesn’t move fast.

It moves with purpose.

What begins as a private test behind closed hotel doors becomes the start of something deeper. Not just domination—but restraint. Not just heat—but presence. These aren’t just sexual games. They’re lessons. And every lesson leaves a mark.

The first lessons?

They don’t ask. They command.

Character Guide

The men. The bodies. The power between them.

Jax Carter

• Age: 39
• Height: 6’3”
• Build: Broad-shouldered, thick forearms, clean-lined muscle under tailored clothes
• Cock: 9 inches, wide at the base, slow to rise, devastating when it does
• Ass: Firm, high, untouched—he gives the orders, not the holes

Jax is control in its purest form. Quiet. Married. Dangerous in that slow-burning way. He’s not flashy, but you feel him in every room. A five-star chef who lives for precision, timing, and heat—and that extends to the men he trains. He doesn’t yell. He waits. And when he finally moves? You don’t forget it.

He’s not here to entertain. He’s here to own.

Tre Richmond

• Age: 26
• Height: 6’2”
• Build: Heavy-built, ex-linebacker body, mocha skin covered in black ink
• Cock: 9.5 inches, thick and uncut, always heavy, always demanding attention
• Ass: Round, muscular, untouched—but his control is what’s being tested now

Tre walks like he fucks—hard and confident. Men stare. Some submit on sight. But dominance isn’t just about presence—it’s about patience. And that’s what Jax is sharpening. Underneath the bravado is a man who’s never truly been challenged. Until now.

He doesn’t just want to dominate.

He wants to deserve it.

Shawn Taylor

• Age: 33
• Height: 5’10”
• Build: Slim, sculpted, a mix of strength and submission
• Cock: 7 inches, thick, always full when he’s being used
• Ass: Smooth, warm, stretched just right—Jax keeps him trained

Shawn doesn’t talk much. He doesn’t have to. He belongs to Jax, and every motion shows it. He kneels perfectly. Obeys immediately. And when he bends over, Tre can’t stop watching. He’s not competition—he’s a living blueprint of surrender.

And sometimes, an unexpected temptation.

Micah Lane

• Age: 27
• Height: 5’8”
• Build: Lean, bratty gym twink, soft mouth and quick hips
• Cock: 6.5 inches, pierced at the tip, usually caged unless he earns it
• Ass: Pink, slick, endlessly greedy—desperate for discipline

Micah is trouble wrapped in lube and attitude. He knows exactly how to provoke. How to moan. How to beg just to see if you’ll deny him. He’s been broken in by others—but something about Tre gets under his skin. He pushes Tre’s limits. Makes him work for control.

But if Tre passes the test?

Micah’s ready to be ruined.

8:43 a.m.

---

Legacy Tower Suites – Executive Level

The suite was quiet again.

But this time, it wasn’t nerves in Tre’s chest—it was clarity.

The submissive Jax brought in last night was still out cold, snoring faintly in the other room. Plugged. Used. Grateful.

Tre stood near the window, bare-chested, towel draped around his waist, glass of water in hand. His own release had dried near his abs. But what stuck with him more than the scene—more than the begging, the way the man shook under his grip…

Was Jax.

Watching.

Stroking.

Silently affirming him—without a word.

That changed something. No—everything.

He turned, moved slow through the suite. No trace of Jax anywhere, but the room still held him. A quiet pull, like scent and gravity.

Then he saw it.

A note—neat, folded, weighted down by a single black cufflink on the marble counter.

“You’re becoming dangerous.

Char & Smoke. 9 p.m.

Don’t bring your dick.

Bring your mind.”

—J.

Tre didn’t smile. Not fully.

He folded the paper in half, tucked it into his wallet, and stared at the glass. His reflection looked different now.

Still 6’2”, 225. Lean waist. Heavy chest. Inked arms. Fully tatted from clavicle to wrist, thick lips, low fade still clean. That long, curved dick—pierced through the head—hung heavy between his thighs. But it wasn’t just the body.

It was how he stood now.

Like he’d stepped into something earned.

8:57 p.m.

Char & Smoke – Private Wine Room

The room was cold and low-lit—just enough light to catch shadows in the folds of dark oak. Two chairs. No plates. Only bourbon on the table and a low hum of Coltrane on vinyl behind the walls.

Tre walked in through the back hallway, dressed clean.

Black slacks. Cream sweater. Gold watch. No cologne—just the scent of skin warmed by summer.

Jax was already there, standing by the far wall near a bottle rack, blazer still on, cigar clipped but unlit.

He didn’t turn around when he spoke. “You still thinking about it?”

Tre’s voice was calm. “The scene?”

“No.” Jax finally turned. “Me strokin’.”

That hit.

Tre stepped forward, slower now. “I’d be lying if I said no.”

Jax looked at him full-on now. Calm. Dark. Controlled. “It meant somethin’.”

Tre nodded. “I know.”

“You didn’t freeze up.”

“I didn’t plan to.”

“That’s the difference between playin’ dominant… and being one.”

Tre’s lips parted, but Jax stepped in, cutting the air between them.

“You ready to move different?”

“I thought I was.”

“You ain’t. Not yet.” Jax handed him a glass. “This next part? No moaning, no nut, no noise. Just you. Your voice. Your stillness.”

Tre swallowed slow. “You trust me with that?”

Jax didn’t answer right away. He circled once behind him, then stopped just near his ear.

“I trust what I see in you.”

Then he stepped back and opened the second door in the wine room.

Inside—dim lighting, soundproof walls, and a small setup:

One chair. One stool.

And a man already kneeling.

Blindfolded. Plug flashing red. Skin flushed from the prep. Head down. Shoulders tense, like he knew he was about to be claimed.

Tre glanced once at the man—then locked eyes with Jax.

“This a test?”

“No.” Jax’s voice was lower now. Controlled. “This is a study.”

Tre didn’t move yet. “So I guide it.”

“You control the air,” Jax said. “You set the rhythm. No nut. No rush. Just presence.”

Tre stared.

His jaw flexed. His hand tightened around the glass.

Then—he stepped in.

Just three steps forward, slow, shoulders wide, boots thudding against the wood floor like a judge walking into chambers.

Jax stayed back. Watching.

“Can I speak?” Tre asked.

Jax’s voice came cool, but low. “He’s yours. Just remember—dangerous men don’t raise their voices.”

9:04 p.m.

Char & Smoke – Inner Room

The door shut behind them with a soft click.

Tre stood still, letting his eyes adjust. The air was heavier in here—closer. Oak, leather, sweat. The kind of quiet that didn’t ask for attention. It already had it.

The man kneeling near the center was built slim, maybe late 20s, dark skin glowing under the recessed amber lights. Not naked—just stripped. Plug flashing red inside him, subtle. Thighs spread just enough to show obedience. Not desperation.

He didn’t flinch when the door closed.

He was waiting.

Trained.

Tre exhaled slow through his nose. Not nervous. Just… aware.

Jax stepped back into the outer room, but the door stayed cracked. Enough for Tre to know—he was still being watched.

Still learning.

Still earning.

He walked forward, slow and steady. Boots on the hardwood, no rush. Just weight and presence.

He didn’t speak yet. Just stood close, staring down.

The man’s breath shifted, just once.

That was enough.

“Open wider,” Tre said—low. Calm. “I need to see what I’m workin’ with.”

The man obeyed instantly, thighs sliding apart, arch deepening. The plug blinked faster now. Small movement. Big message.

Tre crouched. One knee down, elbows on his thighs.

“Good. You listen.” He ran a hand down the back of the man’s thigh. Warm. Shaking a little. “That yours?”

“Yes, sir,” the man whispered.

Tre’s tone didn’t change. “Who put it there?”

“You did.”

Tre’s brow lifted. “Nah. Try again.”

“…Your man.”

Tre smirked. “Better.”

He pressed the plug deeper with one finger—slow. Just to feel the clench. The tension.

Then he pulled his hand back and stood.

“You’re not here for nut,” Tre said. “You’re here to stay open. To feel what I choose.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tre stepped back once, picked up a leather paddle from the table. Smooth. Heavy. Not too much sting. He dragged it along his palm, then looked toward the cracked door.

Jax was watching. Barely visible. Just a silhouette behind smoked glass.

Tre nodded once. Not for permission.

For presence.

Then he walked back and circled the sub. “You need to be marked?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

“To remember.”

Tre grabbed a handful of hair, tugged the man’s head back just slightly. “You remember better when it hurts?”

The man didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Tre let go.

Smack.

The first strike was firm. Not hard. Just enough to pull a gasp from the man’s lips.

Then another. Then two close together. One cheek. Then the other. Even. Measured.

The plug blinked faster.

Tre crouched again.

“You like pain?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You like this pain?”

“Yes.”

Tre reached around and gripped the man’s length. Hard. Throbbing. Caged.

“I could take this off. Let you stroke.”

The man whimpered. “If you allow it…”

“I didn’t ask what I could do,” Tre said, voice lower. “I asked if you want it.”

“I… yes.”

Tre let go. “Good. But you won’t get it.”

The man whimpered again—this time deeper.

Tre stood. His voice got quieter. “You don’t earn relief in this room. You earn stillness. You earn restraint.”

The sub’s breath caught, but he nodded.

Tre took another slow lap around him, rolling his shoulders out. The sweater clung to him—tight over his chest. He didn’t need to undress to command the space.

That was Jax’s first lesson.

Stillness. Control.

The next ten minutes were a clinic.

Tre gave precise instructions:

• “Arch deeper.”
• “Show me that plug.”
• “Breathe through the slap.”
• “Say thank you after every one.”

He didn’t yell once. He didn’t stroke. He didn’t sweat.

He just controlled the air.

9:19 p.m.

Same Room

The man was shaking now—but not broken.

Tre knelt again. Smoothed his hand down the red-marked cheeks.

“You did well.”

The man nodded, panting. “Thank you, sir.”

“Hold position,” Tre said.

He stood, wiped his palms on a towel, then walked to the cracked door.

Jax was waiting. Arms crossed. Face calm—but his chest rose slow. Measured. Like a man holding back something hungry.

Tre stared at him.

“Well?”

Jax took a beat.

Then nodded once. “You didn’t nut. You didn’t rush. You held the room. You held yourself.”

Tre exhaled. Not pride—confirmation.

Jax stepped into the room and passed him slow. No eye contact. Just presence.

He stood in front of the sub and pulled the plug out—slow and slick.

The man shivered.

“Tre,” Jax said, turning.

“Yeah.”

“Go clean up. Meet me outside in five.”

Tre didn’t speak.

Just obeyed.

9:26 p.m.

Char & Smoke – Side Hall

Tre leaned back against the wall, palms still warm. He didn’t realize how much adrenaline was still in him until the cold hallway hit.

Jax came out a minute later, fresh cigar between his fingers.

“You learning fast,” Jax said.

Tre’s voice dropped. “I feel it.”

“That’s the thing about dominance,” Jax said. “It shows up in how you move before the scene, not just inside one.”

Tre nodded once.

Jax reached into his pocket and handed him a folded paper—smaller this time.

Tre unfolded it.

A name. A room number. A time.

Friday. 10:30 p.m.

Legacy Tower. Suite 47.

No jock this time. Full suit.

He’s gonna be plugged already.

You’re gonna wait for me to start him.

—J.

Tre stared at the paper. Then folded it.

Jax didn’t wait for a response.

He lit the cigar and walked off into the night like he’d just passed the torch.

10:27 p.m.

Legacy Tower – Suite 47

The door was already ajar.

Tre pushed it open slowly, stepping inside without a sound. His presence alone was enough to shift the air.

Tailored black suit. No tie. Top buttons undone. Tattoos glinting beneath the dim amber light. His cologne hit next—warm, masculine, and dark.

The suite was low-lit, moody. One bottle of bourbon. Two glasses. No music.

But there was someone waiting.

Tre’s eyes landed on him instantly—mid-30s, smooth brown skin, gym-cut frame, arms cuffed behind his back, knees spread on a velvet cushion in the center of the room. Naked. Blindfolded. Bare.

The man didn’t flinch.

Not yet.

Tre stepped in close, walking a slow circle.

The man exhaled when Tre’s boots stopped behind him.

“You already wet.”

The sub shuddered. “Yes, sir.”

“You do that for me?”

“No, sir.”

Tre crouched beside him, voice low.

“Then why the fuck am I here?”

The man paused, breath shaky. “Because he said I wasn’t ready.”

Tre’s eyes sharpened.

“Who’s he?”

“Jax. Said I wasn’t ready for his hands yet. Said I needed yours first.”

That twisted something in Tre’s chest—equal parts pride and pressure.

“You here to impress him?”

“I’m here to learn control. Even when it hurts.”

Tre’s jaw ticked.

He stood slowly. Poured one glass of bourbon. Didn’t drink it.

Then he stepped behind the sub again.

“You ever had your mouth used before your body?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You ever been denied after that?”

The sub hesitated. “No, sir.”

“Good.”

Tre ran his fingers through the man’s low fade. Held his chin. “Open.”

The sub obeyed. Mouth wide. Tongue out.

Tre held the glass over his lips and poured slow—bourbon coating his tongue, running down his chin, hitting his chest.

“Swallow.”

The man did.

Tre sat back, watching him breathe. Chest slick now. Skin flushing.

“You ever had someone beat you without laying a finger?”

The man nodded slowly.

“I need you to say the words.”

“Yes, sir. I’ve had it happen.”

“Then let’s see if you remember how to suffer pretty.”

Tre didn’t move for several minutes. He let silence fill the room. The sub stayed kneeling, thighs trembling now, cock twitching without permission.

“Put your face to the floor. Keep your knees wide. Count down from ten.”

The man lowered himself, forehead to the carpet. “Ten… nine…”

Tre unbuckled his belt, but didn’t remove his pants.

“Eight… seven…”

He stepped in closer.

“Six… five…”

He raised one boot and gently pressed it between the sub’s shoulder blades—weight firm but not cruel.

“Four…”

“Three…”

Tre took another sip of bourbon. Still didn’t touch himself.

“Two…”

“One…”

Silence.

The sub waited.

Tre leaned down close, breath hot at his ear.

“You didn’t cum. You didn’t beg. You followed.”

The man swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

Tre pulled a black card from his coat and slid it under the sub’s face.

“Room 1701. Tomorrow night. Someone will be waiting for you.”

The man’s breath hitched.

“Who?” he whispered.

Tre stepped back. “Not your place to ask.”

He turned and walked toward the door.

But just before he left—

He looked back, voice cold and sharp.

“Tell Jax I don’t need his tests anymore.”

Then he was gone.

11:22 p.m.

Penthouse Suite — W Hotel, Chicago

Tre stepped out of the private elevator, quiet, focused.

He’d gotten used to Jax’s setups by now. One sentence texts. No over-explaining. Just a time, a room number, and a command:

“Don’t bring your questions. Just bring your belt.”

Tre knocked once.

Door opened without a word.

Jax was already inside, standing by the minibar in a gray turtleneck and slacks, sleeves pushed up, watch glinting under the amber light. He looked calm. Casual. In control.

But what got Tre’s attention was the man kneeling near the couch.

Younger. Shirtless. Slim, toned build. Fully exposed. Rope marks across his chest. Hands tied behind his back. Head bowed.

Jax didn’t look up. Just sipped his drink and motioned toward the man.

“He’s been waiting for you since 9:30.”

Tre didn’t speak.

He stepped closer, eyes studying the boy. Trembling, breathing hard, but still. There was something in the way he knelt—obedience, sure, but also anticipation.

“He yours?” Tre asked without turning.

Jax exhaled through his nose. “He’s no one. But tonight… he’s yours.”

Tre crouched, voice low. “What’s your name?”

The boy flinched but answered. “Micah.”

“You clean?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tre nodded once, stood up, and turned to Jax.

“You watching tonight?”

Jax smirked faintly. “No.”

Tre paused.

Jax’s voice dropped.

“I’m studying.”

11:43 p.m.

Micah was moaning now—quiet, desperate. Tre had stripped him slow, tied his ankles to the base of the couch, and made him crawl. Every touch was earned. Every command was met with gratitude.

Jax hadn’t said a word.

He just watched.

Silent.

One leg crossed, glass untouched, jaw flexing every few minutes.

Tre pressed two fingers into Micah’s mouth, watched him suck eagerly. Then turned him over, face down, ass up, lips parted.

He didn’t plug him.

Didn’t need to.

Tre worked him open slowly, palm flat on the small of his back, keeping him grounded as his fingers teased and circled.

Micah shook, moaning harder. “Please, sir… please… I can take it…”

Tre said nothing.

He just leaned in and whispered:

“You don’t cum unless he says you can.”

Micah hesitated. “Who?”

Tre tilted his head toward Jax.

Jax stared at the boy. His face was unreadable.

“Keep stroking,” he said to Tre, voice calm. “I want to see what kind of dominance you give when I’m not in the room.”

“But you’re in the room,” Tre muttered.

Jax stood up, slowly. “Not for long.”

He walked behind the couch, out of sight—but the mirror above the bar gave a full reflection. Jax sat there, watching Tre’s every move in the glass.

And then… he did something Tre had never seen him do.

He unzipped his pants. Pulled himself free. And started stroking.

Slow. Intentional. Watching every stroke Tre gave.

Micah didn’t know. His eyes were closed, tears streaking as his body begged for release.

Tre looked into the mirror.

Their eyes locked.

“You stroking for me now?” Tre asked.

Jax didn’t smile. Just kept going.

“I’m stroking for what you’re becoming.”

That hit Tre in the gut.

He leaned down, bit Micah’s shoulder gently, then slid inside him in one long stroke. The boy gasped, knees shaking.

Tre didn’t thrust hard. He just held it there. Let the weight of it settle.

Micah whimpered. “Oh f-fuck…”

Tre growled low. “Take it. You wanted it.”

“I want to cum…”

“Then ask him.”

Micah turned his head toward the mirror, voice breaking.

“Please, sir… can I cum?”

Jax’s hand didn’t stop moving. His eyes stayed on Tre.

“Not yet,” he said.

Micah sobbed softly.

Tre pulled out, teasing the tip at the edge.

Micah shook again. “Please, please—”

“Now,” Jax said, voice sharp.

Micah exploded, body convulsing. Tre kept stroking him through it, watching him fall apart.

In the mirror, Jax finally grunted and came across his own hand, breathing heavy, leaning forward.

For once… undone.

12:14 a.m.

Hotel Balcony

The city was dark and quiet below them. Tre stood near the railing, shirtless, sipping water. Jax leaned beside him, no longer the stoic teacher—just a man who had watched something awaken.

Tre spoke first.

“Didn’t know you’d stroke.”

Jax nodded slowly. “Didn’t know you’d take the room from me.”

Tre didn’t know what to say to that.

Jax glanced at him.

“You’re not a student anymore.”

Tre exhaled.

“You said that before.”

“I meant it then. I mean it now.”

Tre looked out over the skyline. “So what now?”

Jax took his time answering.

“Now I stop testing you.”

Tre turned, surprised. “For real?”

Jax nodded. “From now on… I train with you. Not above you.”

They stood in silence.

Then Jax leaned in, voice low.

“You’re becoming dangerous, Tre. Not ‘cause of your dick. Not ‘cause of your body. Because of your presence.”

Tre smirked faintly. “That’s what dominance is, right?”

Jax nodded once. “And now you’re learning what most never do.”

Tre raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

Jax locked eyes with him.

“How to make a man cum… without ever touching him.”

Scene Five: Reversal

Friday – 10:42 p.m.

Langston Private Residences, Suite 1904

The elevator opened directly into the suite. No hallway. No concierge. Just clean marble floors, a scent of cedar and smoke curling in the air, and one single message on Tre’s phone:

1904. Walk in. Don’t ask. Just begin. My control ends at the door. —J

Tre slipped the phone into his pocket and adjusted the cuffs of his black linen shirt. No jewelry. No belt. Just calm presence and quiet dominance filling out every inch of his 6’2” frame.

He hadn’t known what to expect—not really.

Jax had said he had a “new sub” who needed guidance. Said Tre was ready to take the lead. Said to bring the same stillness and power he’d been building for weeks. But none of that explained the hush in the suite, or the way the lights had been dimmed to a gold amber hue.

Tre closed the door behind him without a sound.

Then he saw it.

Near the center of the room, knelt on a thick leather mat, was Jax.

Face calm. Shoulders broad and bare. Wrists resting on his thighs, open, offering.

Nude.

Nothing but a black leather collar buckled around his neck, and a folded towel laid carefully beneath his knees.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t lift his head.

He waited.

Tre stood motionless for a full twenty seconds, just watching. The weight of it hit all at once—not a game, not a test. Jax had given him something rare.

Access.

Tre crossed the floor slow.

His boots sounded louder than normal against the marble. Every step was deliberate. His mind ran clear: not with hesitation, but intention. He had permission to act, but not to question. He didn’t need to.

He circled once around Jax, clocking the flex of his jaw, the subtle rise of his chest. No fear. No shame. Just stillness and readiness.

“You here for me,” Tre said finally—voice low, deep, calm.

Jax gave a quiet nod, eyes still down.

Tre walked behind him, pulled the drawstring shades closed one at a time. The city lights faded. What remained was silence and scent. A bottle of bourbon rested on the bar. One glass. Already poured.

Tre sipped it.

Then removed his shirt.

His tattoos caught the light—bold ink curling over his chest, down his ribs, across the muscle of his arms. One deep breath and he slid off his pants, then stepped back into the room wearing only his briefs, the thick imprint of his cock already rising.

He stood over Jax.

“Hands behind your back.”

Jax obeyed.

Tre stepped around front and gripped his chin, lifting his face. Jax’s lips parted slightly—but not from words. From instinct.

Tre didn’t kiss him.

Not yet.

He stared into his eyes. Let the quiet say everything.

“You ready to be used?”

Jax nodded, throat tight.

Tre’s voice lowered. “Say it.”

“Yes, sir.”

The shift had begun.

Tre stepped back and slowly palmed the bulge in his briefs. Thick. Heavy. Pierced. The metal barbell at the tip of his dick pressed against the fabric, glinting through it. Jax’s eyes dropped—just for a moment—then lifted again.

“You want it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tre smirked.

“Crawl.”

Jax moved instantly—broad, powerful body sinking to hands and knees, crawling across the leather mat like he belonged there. Like he’d been waiting for this moment since the first time he watched Tre command someone else.

Tre sat down in the velvet chair near the window and spread his legs.

“Take them off.”

Jax knelt between his knees and peeled down the briefs—slow, deliberate. Tre’s cock sprang free, thick and long, barbell gleaming at the head.

“Open your mouth.”

Jax didn’t hesitate.

Tre fed it to him slow. No thrusting. Just let him take the weight, the warmth, the shape. Jax moaned around it, deep and guttural, as his lips slid down the thick shaft, burying his throat against the base.

“Good,” Tre whispered, stroking his head once. “Stay there.”

He let him work—slow, wet motions, eyes focused up, breathing steady. Every time Jax’s tongue flicked under the piercing, Tre’s abs tensed.

When he pulled out, Jax’s lips were slick and parted.

Tre stood, dick heavy in his palm, and walked back toward the mat.

“Knees. Back straight.”

Jax followed.

Tre moved behind him, dropping to one knee, letting his hands trail up Jax’s thighs, over his hips, gripping the firmness of that ass. He didn’t rush. Just felt. Pressed. Explored.

Then:

“You know what I’m about to do?”

Jax didn’t speak.

Tre leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “I’m going to fuck you. Not gently. Not playfully. But with presence.”

Jax’s breath caught.

“Say it back.”

“You’re going to fuck me. With presence.”

Tre nodded.

“Good boy.”

He spat in his palm, slicked his cock once, and gripped Jax by the hips.

The tip pressed slowly against his hole. Not fast. Not brutal. Just pressure. Patience. And a steady push until the head slipped in.

Jax groaned.

Tre paused.

“Breathe.”

Jax nodded again.

Tre fed him more—inch by inch, the curve of his shaft making Jax squirm, grunt, adjust. The sound of it filled the room—wet, thick, real. No music. Just the slap of skin and the sound of submission.

“Keep your hands on the floor,” Tre said.

And then he moved.

Long strokes. Full control. One palm on Jax’s shoulder, the other gripping his hip. Every thrust was slow but deep—like he wasn’t just taking his body, he was rewiring it.

“You feel that?” Tre growled.

“Yes, sir—f-fuck—”

“You don’t cum until I say. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tre sped up—just slightly. The slap of balls against ass grew louder. The sweat on their backs slicked the rhythm. Tre’s fingers dug in.

“You been thinkin’ about this?” he whispered.

Jax grunted. “Yes, sir.”

“How long?”

“Since the first time you took control.”

Tre leaned forward, chest against his back, lips grazing his neck.

“Don’t ever hide that shit again.”

Jax’s whole body tensed.

And then Tre grabbed his throat from behind—just enough to hold. Not to choke. Not to hurt. Just to remind him:

This isn’t yours anymore.

“You about to cum?” Tre asked.

Jax couldn’t answer. Just nodded, sweat dripping down his back, muscles tight and flexing.

Tre pulled out.

Jax almost collapsed.

“On your back,” Tre said. “Now.”

Jax rolled over, chest heaving. His cock was leaking hard, thick veins pulsing.

Tre straddled his chest, jerking his own dick—slow, right above Jax’s face.

“You ever tasted it after I’ve been inside someone?”

Jax blinked—then nodded.

Tre groaned. “Open up.”

He leaned forward and came hard—rope after rope landing across Jax’s lips, his chin, his tongue. The sound of it was breathless, raw. Deep from the gut.

Jax moaned as the first wave hit his mouth—and that pushed him over the edge.

He came untouched—dick shooting high, coating his own chest with thick white arcs, trembling under Tre’s weight.

When it ended, Tre leaned down, kissed him slow—tongue dragging through the mess he’d made. Not rushed. Not performative.

Just dominant.

And earned.

Saturday – 2:12 a.m.

Langston Private Residences, Balcony

Jax stood shirtless again, glass of water in hand, the wind cooling sweat off his skin. He didn’t speak.

Tre came out behind him, towel over one shoulder.

“You good?” he asked.

Jax nodded. “Better than good.”

Tre stepped beside him, watching the city light flicker across the glass towers.

“I didn’t know what you were walkin’ into,” Tre said.

“I did,” Jax replied. “That’s what made it real.”

They stood there quiet for a beat.

“You sure you want to keep givin’ me that much control?”

Jax finally turned to him. “I already have. I just hadn’t shown you.”

Tre took a long breath.

“What now?”

Jax smirked. “Now we find out how far you can take this.”

He turned back to the skyline.

“And I stay close.”

Tre reached over, gripped the back of Jax’s neck, pulled him in slow—and kissed him once, deep and confident.

No more questions.

Just presence.

Just power.

Just earned.

Recently, on a blog on one of the hookup apps, an intriguing question was posed: Do gay men ever give blow jobs to their straight friends?

Hmmm. I had to think about that. Most of my straight friends were married, unattractive, and out-of-shape — that seems to come with the territory, or having sex with them hit me as  creepy. Then, I thought of one of my friends that would have been suitable.

Tim is in his 50s, fit and lanky, ruggedly handsome with a strong jaw line, penetrating blue eyes, dark blond hair, blondish scruff, masculine, sexy and divorced. He’s a jock and jogs daily at the Arboretum, a large park in Boston. He looks to be of WASP ancestry with some Irish thrown in. When our group watches Red Sox games together at our apartments. I notice that he drinks a lot of beer, which makes men wonder if alcohol intake would dull his inhibitions.

One night, having had a few beers myself, I fixated on his lean body spread back on the sofa and his crotch bulging in his well-worn, tight Levi’s. Tim favors tight T-shirts that show off his musculature and sneakers on his big feet. He often stretches his legs and pivots his Size 13s back and forth as if performing some kind of exercise. Is there a direct relationship between large feet and big dicks? I would love if Tim would help me in my research on this matter.

Alas, I doubt he’d ever let me do him. He’s super straight, likes women too much and seems the kind of straight guy who never thinks about what a man’s mouth could do for his dick. It’s frustrating when a woman appears in a TV ad and his eyes are glued to her breasts. And yet, that makes him even more appealing as a challenge I’m keen to take.

Once when he and the gang, all totally aware of my sexual proclivities, were leaving a friend’s house after the Super Bowl, emboldened by wine, I blurted out, “Tim, I have a boffo new LG OLED 65-inch TV. If you’re in the South End, come by and we can watch a Red Sox game together. I have lots of beer in the fridge.”

That was met by silence from him and smirks from the rest, who knew full well what I was up to. But I had planted a seed and was hoping it would one day bloom.

Thoughts of Tim led me back to the original question on the dating app and a experience in the ’60s when I was in college.

       ——

Back then I had a straight college friend named Jay. We worked at a Boston newspaper as factotums, which means we got coffee for the cranky old editors and did their bidding in other ways. We poked fun at these bow-tied creatures and shared lots of laughs. Jay was fun to be around and even accompanied me to gay clubs, totally comfortable with the scene.

 He was masculine, lanky, broad shouldered, curly blond-brown hair, deep voice and good looking in an American boy way. He was from Kentucky. When he had no place to stay one summer, he crashed at my small one-bedroom apartment on Beacon Hill. We slept together in my full-sized brass bed. There was no sofa. The night he moved in, he just crawled into bed with me. Seemed natural for both of us.

One morning he was sitting in bed next to me reading the newspaper in just his boxer shorts. I had just woken up and found myself staring at his chest.

“Gee, Jay has a really nice body,” I thought to myself. “Why hadn’t I noticed before?” As if in a trance, I moved my hand tentatively and touched his smooth chest. “Jay, you’re turning me on,” I announced. That bold act was not like me, but I was moved by his attractiveness. Jay didn’t flinch, didn’t say a word, just leaned back against the headboard as if to encourage my ministrations. So I upped the ante and rubbed one of his nipples. He stirred, gasped, looked straight ahead, but said nothing. It was obvious from the bulge in his boxers that he was excited.

My hand slithered downward and my fingers ran along his belly button and blondish treasure trail. I love treasure trails. How could I not have noticed his before. Jay let out a sigh as I saw his mushroom cap flare out through the cotton fabric, announcing his circumcision status.

 Upping the ante again, I slipped my hand downward under the elastic band.  He grunted and slid himself from a sitting position to flat on the bed. He stretched his hands behind the back of his head in the classic “do me” pose. 

He lifted his body up, inviting me to remove his boxers. I slid them down to his ankles and off. I was struck by his hard penis, glued to his tummy, about 6 inches long, fatter than average, sitting in a thicket of light brown pubic hair. I had never seen Jay naked.

My index finger ran up and down his shaft, finally tracing a circle around the beveled head. I wet my finger with saliva and fingered his piss slit. He let out a moan and closed his eyes. Perhaps he was fantasizing about a girlfriend. I didn’t care. At this moment he belonged to me.

After a few minutes I leaned over and sandpapered the head of his dick with my tongue. His loud response signaled me to continue. I licked it for a minute or two before I took all of him into my mouth. That was met by even louder sounds of  satisfaction. As my face drilled into his pubic hair, I savored his Southern boy moistness.

Jay began moaning so loudly that I feared he would cum before I wanted him to, before I had a chance to edge him and taste his precum. He had likely never had a good blowjob, probably not even a bad one, women of the ‘60s being even less interested than today in sucking dick.

It was time to turn it up a notch and shift from gentle sucking to more intense action. Given his lack of experience, deepthroating him was going to make him crazy.  As his mushroom cap hit my tonsils, he gasped.

I used more pressure as he bucked his hips, grabbing the back of my head and fucking my mouth. Now I was the one who was surprised by his boldness.

As his breathing became heavier, I braced for the payoff. As my mouth filled with cum and dribbled out of my mouth, I was brimming with pleasure. One spasm was followed by another and another. His was the biggest load I had ever taken. I swallowed half of it before I choked. The rest soon followed down my throat. What is it about sucking off a straight dude and eating his cum that makes a gay guy crazy?

With cum coating my mouth and sitting in my belly, I thought with only a tinge of  shame: “Would Jay let me do him again tomorrow?” I still had the taste of his load in my mouth and I was already thinking about the next time. I couldn’t help it.

Sadly, we never repeated the encounter, even though we slept together for a few more weeks before the nomad in him took him to the West Coast. When he returned to Boston a few months later, he moved back in with me, but we never spoke of this episode.

A year later, he asked me to be best man at his wedding.

I had a message from someone who lived in a hamlet a few miles away. It said he was bi, and came with two pics, one of his cock, a good size and quite hairy, and the other of it in a hairy cunt. I wondered if it was a wind-up, but after a series of texts, he confessed that he likes sex with younger men, and his life likes to watch. Fuck me, it takes all sorts, I thought. I suggested I brought Ginge with me. He readily agreed, and we made a date.

We wore sweatpants, as they’re easier to get off, and found this quaint cottage down a long gravel drive. The woman greeted us, “Take your shoes off, he’s upstairs”. Lying naked on a bed was a portly man with an erection. Ginge and I kissed as we undressed one another. I went down on the guy, while Ginge gave him his knob to suck. The woman leaned against a chest-of-drawers and wriggled out of her jeans. Ginge and I swapped and the woman started frigging herself. The man went onto all fours and Ginge rimmed her hairy arse, then pushed in. I stroked the man’s dick and the woman moaned. From a drawer, the woman produced a large vibrator and shoved it in her fanny. Ginge fucked him hard, “Inside, or on your bum?” “Just do it!” he shouted, and with that Ginge held him tight and unloaded. We swapped, Ginge took over wanking duties, and I fucked him. His wife was on the floor, ramming the vibrator in and out, and crying. It was a bit too much for me, so I fucked him even harder and shot my load. He turned over and finished tossing himself. We left them upstairs and let ourselves out. “Fucking hell, that was weird”, Ginge commented, as we drove off.

Back in the cave, I had a message from Robin, asking if we’d like to meet a friend of his, together with a picture of a good-looking man about 10 years older than us. Younger than I normally go for, but as he’s a friend of Robin’s, I agreed and made a date. I went by myself to a posh house on the smart side of town. Ollie welcomed me in and offered me a beer. I kicked off my shoes, and he showed me to the lounge, where we snogged. He was an excellent kisser, having me hard in no time. He squeezed his hands down my pants and ground into me. Our tops came off, he had huge, erect nipples, begging to be sucked. He pushed my jogging bottoms and boxers down, and gripped my cock, he suggested we went upstairs. He was just as gentle as Robin, I barely noticed my clothes coming off. We lay on the bed just kissing and cuddling for ages, until I really needed him inside me. Laying on my tummy, he lifted my hips and blew on my ring, then kissed it, and blew again, his hot breath making me need him all the more. “Fuck me, Please”, I pleaded. I felt his mushroom head, then it slipped inside me. He leaned over and nibbled my ears and kissed the nape of my neck. He pulled out and rimmed me again. Re-inserting it, he fucked me very slowly, dropping saliva into my crack. He turned me over and we kissed some more as he mounted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he fucked me harder. He pulled out and sucked me, then fucked again, this time on our sides. I wanked and came over my thighs at the same time as his penis pulsed its seed. We cuddled until he slipped out. He asked me to stay the night, so after more wine, we went to sleep. In the morning, I he gave  me a toothbrush, I showered and I had a fluffy white gown to keep me warm. We ate and went back to bed. This time, I made love to him, trying to be as thoughtful and tender as him. When I mounted him, our bodies melded together and we moved as one. Our climaxes, when they came, were the culmination of the previous 30 minutes. Gathering my stuff, I promised to see him again soon.      

——

Ginge and I had gone from friends, to comrades who fuck older men, and lovers. His DNA was all over the floor of the man cave. We were in there one Saturday afternoon, with him bent over the table and already lubed up, when Glen walked in. Glen was a friend I’d known since school days, and we’d had sex on and off for years. Even though he now has a girlfriend, he still likes gay sex. “Hi”, I said, as I pushed in. It’s been a long time since I worried about having an audience. “I expect you know Ginge”, I added. “Yeah, I fucked him a couple of years ago, tight ass, as I recall”. I plowed in and fucked him with gusto to impress Glen. After a bit, I lifted Ginge onto the table, he held his legs up, and I speared him again, filling him with my seed. “Can I have a go?”, Glen asked, penetrating before Ginge could reply. “Fuck me hard”, Ginge cried. I watched his bubble butt, as he banged my boyfriend, adding his spunk to mine. Ginge wanked himself off. “Long time, no see”, I commented, as I pulled my shorts up. Glen kissed me and said sorry, he’d been preoccupied with his girlfriend, but she was on a period and he was fed up with tossing every day. We cracked a beer and had a catch-up, even telling him about shagging older guys. “Sounds like fun”, he conceded, “If you’re ever short of someone, give me a shout, I don’t care who I fuck”, he kissed both of us, and left.

We had a message pop up, ‘Horny 50-year-old needs satisfying’. I replied, ‘When and where?’ ‘Sundays are best, as my wife goes to her mum’s’ We arranged it for 2pm next day.

We arrived at a smart house and were met by one of our old junior school teachers. He ushered us in, and asked us to be discrete. He took us to the spare bedroom. Ginge went first, I watched as they made out and stripped. The bloke had regulation M&S Y-fronts on. They laid on the bed and their underwear came off. His dick was about 6″, cut, with a greying bush. Ginge was getting quite good at this sex lark, working his way over the guy’s body and deep-throating him. I was tempted to fuck Ginge’s pretty bum, but watched and stroked myself. Ginge lifted the guy’s legs, rimmed him and mounted him. I was now naked, enjoying the show. They kissed as Ginge fucked harder. Not knowing if he was happy being bred, Ginge pulled out and splattered on the man’s stomach. I took over, already worked up, fucking and wanking him at the same time, till his cum mixed with Ginge’s. I couldn’t stop myself, and fired deep inside him. Pools of cum ran off his body onto the duvet as he thanked us, asking how much we wanted. We told him it was purely for fun, and kissed him. One of our nicer meets.     

With clear skies

Aiden’s eyes flickered. As they slowly opened. The natural light in the room greeted him. He turned in the bed only to find Grayson’s spot empty. He quickly sat up, hoping that Grayson hadn’t run off and left him again. The idea of being alone again made him feel nauseous.

“Grayson,” he called out. He was met with silence. The quiet made his heart sink. The door opened, and Grayson walked in with breakfast in hand.

“You’re awake. I thought I would have been back before you woke up,” Grayson revealed to him.

Just as he closed the door, Aiden kicked the covers back. The naked stud jumped out of the bed. He quickly made his way toward Grayson. His thick flaccid cock swung back and forth like a mighty sword. He took the food from Grayson and placed it on the small desk, and then wrapped his arms around him. The warm embrace took Grayson by surprise, but he welcomed it.

Aiden held him tightly and said, “I thought you had left me.”

“No,” Grayson said as he pulled back. There was something in Aiden’s eyes that was unsettling and emotional.  “Aiden, what’s wrong? Let me be there for you like how you’ve been there for me.”

Aiden placed his right hand on the right side of Grayson’s face. He stroked him both lovingly and affectionately. “I’ve been so closed off from people emotionally. After my parents’ death, I just liked being alone and at peace with the quiet. Now, you’re here, and the quiet and alone scare me.” He hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I’m not really a bull after all.”

Grayson placed his hand under Aiden’s chin and lifted his head. “You’ll always be my bull, Aiden Sky. It makes sense that you’d keep people at a friendly distance after losing both your parents at such a young age. I appreciate you allowing me to be the first person you let in. I’m honored.”

“Okay,” Aiden began. “Now it’s time for the real question. Burgers or pancakes?” He grinned. Aiden didn’t want to linger in his sorrow for long.

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “It’s 8:30 in the morning.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said playfully.

Grayson shook his head. “Fine. I guess…burgers.”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Correct, ladies and gentlemen. Now for the real test. Banana or vanilla milkshake?”

Grayson laughed, “Weirdly…banana.”

“Well,” Aiden said as he leaned back. “God clearly favors you.”

They got out into the sunshine. It was a hot and sunny day. The skies were clear and blue. The sun felt good on their skin. They strolled the streets of downtown OKC just talking and enjoying the sights. They talked for hours about tornadoes and childhood pets. Dumb road trip playlist came up. Aiden opened up about what it was like to suddenly have everyone in his old town know his name and be called “the boy who lived.” Grayson couldn’t resist making some Harry Potter jokes about it.

Grayson found himself opening up and telling stories about Braylon. He hadn’t talked about his little brother in years. It felt good to remember the fun times and just be free of all thoughts and worry. He even told Aiden how he used to want to be a singer, but never told anyone.

“Well, you definitely have a voice and there’s music in you,” Aiden said softly.

Grayson went quiet. He wasn’t quite used to the validation. He had done such a wonderful job of keeping people at a distance. It felt odd to have someone be close.

“You sang in the truck when I turned the music up that time to drown you out. When Adam was still riding with us. That Jewel song was on.”

Grayson laughed. “We were both being assholes.”

The fairground blinked to life in the twilight of Oklahoma. String lights draped like stars across booths, and the scent of funnel cakes and fried pickles hung thick in the summer air. Aiden had the biggest grin on his face the moment they walked through the gates.

“Can’t believe you grew up here and never once came to the Oklahoma County Fair. It’s unlike any other fair.”

Grayson took a look around. His eyes landed on the man in a corn costume doing the worm on a hay bale. He looked at Aiden. “You’re proud of this, huh?”

“Come on,” Aiden nudged him, “don’t act like this isn’t secretly the second best thing to happen to you since getting on that plane.”

“And what would have been the first?”

“Meeting me,” he answered with a charming grin plastered across his face.

Grayson shook his head as the corner of his mouth curved up. He was unguarded, uncomfortable, but safer than he had ever felt in his entire life.

Aiden pulled him to the ring toss. Grayson missed every single time and called it a scam. They shared a cherry snow cone that stained both their tongues red. They debated over whether deep-fried Oreos counted as a spiritual experience. Aiden convinced Grayson to try the “Tilt-a-Whirl,” and Grayson screamed so hard he lost his voice for five minutes.

“You okay?’ Aden asked after, laughing so hard he had to lean on a fence post.

Grayson glared at him with his eyes wild and his curly hair wind-blown. “I hope you get struck by lightning.”

“You say that as if you haven’t struck me already,” Aiden said with a wink. He leaned in closer and placed his hand on the right side of Grayson’s cheek.

As the night progressed, the fair slowed. The lights shimmered above them. Music drifted from the stage. A young girl with a powerful voice was performing a cover of “Out of Oklahoma” by Lainey Wilson. Couples danced in pairs on a plywood platform covered in string lights.

“Ever dance at the fair before?” Aiden asked.

“Nope.” Grayson stood at the edge of the dancing crowd. Something soft and innocent flickered in his eyes. He turned to Aiden. “I want to.”

Aiden smiled and held his hand out. Grayson took it, and Aiden pulled him into the open space. They swayed slowly, slightly awkward at first. They could feel people staring at them. An interracial queer couple dancing in the bible belt. The secret judgment enforced the safety they felt with each other. Aiden’s hand dropped to Grayson’s lower back. Grayson’s arm draped over Aiden’s shoulder. A perfect moment for two very imperfect individuals.

The Ferris wheel turned slowly in the background. A light breeze kicked up dust. Fireworks popped faintly in the distance. The sky was illuminated with small bursts of gold and blue. The song ended, and they refused to step back from one another.

“You make it feel easy to be with you. I have feelings for you, Aiden. They are real and deep.”

“I know. I can feel you when you enter a room. When you leave, it’s going to be hard for me.”

Grayson smiled and said, “Just step outside, and you can feel me in the breeze. I’ll always be by your side, Aiden Sky.”

The two of them walked hand in hand, just enjoying the night. They stumbled across a mechanical bull. It stood in the center of a ring of hay bales, blinking red lights at the base, and a cluster of teens cheering at a kid who flew off in under two seconds. Aiden stopped in his tracks. A devilish smile spread across his face.

“Oh, this is happening.”

“HA,” Grayson said as he let go of Aiden’s hand and slowly backed away. “No. Absolutely not. No fucking way! That’s not safe.”

“Exactly. You don’t ride for safety. You do ride it for glory. I mean, since when don’t you ride a bull?”

Grayson squinted his eyes. “That’s not the same, and you know it.”

Aiden stepped behind him and placed his hands on Grayson’s shoulders. “Come on, Storm. Do it for me. Full cowboy fantasy. I can coach how to ride it better than you’ve ever ridden before. Just think of how you’ll be able to ride the beast between my legs afterwards.

Grayson chuckled, “I’m so going to regret this. Shit!”

Moments later, Grayson straddled the bull awkwardly. He shot Aiden a look. Every part of him wanted to get off the bull and just run away.

“Storm, elbows in! Loosen your hips! Be a leaf in the wind.”

“Not comforting, Aiden.”

The buzzer sounded!

The bull jerked to life. It lurched sideways like it wanted to throw Grayson into the middle of next week. His arms flailed, his body jerked like a ragdoll, but he held on. Grayson gritted his teeth, and his knees tightened. He laughed and screamed all at once. He could hear people cheering. The loudest voice was his favorite voice…Aiden. In the back of the crowd of people, he saw Adam watching with a smile. The twink still looked innocent and bubbly.

“Ride it! You beautiful storm,” Aiden shouted.

Eight seconds! He lasted eight full seconds. The bull tossed him. Grayson flew off and landed in a pile of hay. His limbs were splayed, chest heaving with adrenaline and laughter. Aiden knelt by his side.

“You good?”

“I feel like I just fought a demon.”

Aiden grinned. “Guess what? You won.”

“I can’t remember the last time I felt this alive.”

“Well, today is the start of you always feeling alive.”

The hay still clung to Grayson as they stood just beyond the noise near some food trucks. They were lost in each other’s eyes. There was a pull between them that seemed to grow deeper and become stronger with each passing moment they spent together. Aiden stepped closer to him. It was that kind of closeness that suggests you’ve met the person to end the night with.

Aiden reached out and brushed the hay out of Grayson’s hair. His fingers lingered for longer than they needed against his temple. Grayson closed his eyes for a second, and then he opened them. A small but revealing smile spread across his chocolate face.

“Perfect.” Aiden’s voice was low, just above a whisper. “How about we go see the top of the world?”

The Ferris wheel groaned gently as it turned. Aiden and Grayson sat side by side. Their knees brushed together.  They made it to the top when the ride suddenly paused. It left them suspended and weightless above it all.

“They have to do this on purpose,” Grayson said as he glanced over the edge.

“Absolutely. It’s the part where you’re supposed to kiss the person next to you or just panic and jump out. Depending on how things are going.”

Aiden wrapped his arm around Grayson and pulled him closer. Their heads rested together. The stars above them seemed to shine brighter. The cool air of the night wrapped them in something special. The quiet was made all the more powerful because it was shared between them.

“Grayson, sing me a song. It can be anything. It can be something you wrote. I just want to hear your voice.”

Grayson hesitated for a moment, and then he finally sang…

“I used to dream of what it would mean

Being in love, dancing to a whole scene

But not every movie is what it seems

No matter what the world believes

I read our story between the scenes

And I’m not afraid of

The storm in your eyes

I’m not afraid of what’s beyond the horizon

You can feel my grip tighten

Cause my love will only brighten

I see the storm in your eyes

And it’s a brilliant surprise.”

“Hopefully that wasn’t too much,” Grayson said nervously.

He turned and looked at Aiden. The cowboy’s eyes were watery. Aiden quickly pulled Grayson in for a kiss. Their lips met, and it felt like fireworks exploded inside of them. Passion flowed between them. The Ferris wheel resumed moving, and the two of them continued kissing under the stars.

***

Grayson sat on the bed. He was allowing his naked body to air dry from the shower. The bathroom door opened, and Aiden walked out. Water rolled down his flesh like a ride at an amusement park.

“Shower felt amazing,” Aiden confessed as he pulled the towel from around his waist.

Aiden stood at the foot of the bed with water dripping down his muscled body. He had the towel to his face, drying his hair. His long cock hung to the left. It looked so tasty. Grayson couldn’t resist having it in his mouth. He crawled over to the edge of the bed. He opened his mouth and swallowed the head of Aiden’s cock. Aiden gasped as he dropped the towel. He looked down at Grayson with a smile.

“You love that cock don’t you?” Aiden asked as he raised an eyebrow. It was sexy as fuck.

“MMM MMM,” Grayson groaned in approval as he worked Aiden’s pole. 

The stud wrapped his arm around the back of Grayson’s head and began to fuck his throat. Those massive hanging balls tapped Grayson’s chin over and over. The man opened his mouth wider and allowed Aiden to stretch his throat out. Aiden slid every inch of his cock into Grayson’s mouth. The head of Aiden’s cock touched the back of Grayson’s throat. He held his dick there and made it throb. Grayson gagged briefly around it.

Aiden chuckled and told him, “I love it when you choke on it, baby.”

He inhaled oxygen through his nose and gave his jaws and throat a squeeze that rocked Aiden’s pleasure points. Aiden resumed rock his hips back and forth fucking the man’s mouth and throat. Grayson placed both his hands on Aiden’s tight ass and held him in place. He tightened the seal of lips around the velvety flesh of Aiden’s dick. Soft moans flowed from Aiden and followed by deep grunts from Grayson.

Aiden pulled his cock from Grayson’s mouth and had him turn around and point his chocolate ass into the air. Grayson made his cakes shake and his tight hole wink at Aiden. Those big, manly hands ran across those smooth cheeks. Aiden ran his thumb across the pucker. His touch made Grayson shiver. There was something in the way Aiden touched him that just made everything feel better.

Aiden got on his knees and took hold of those cakes. He pushed his face in between them. His thick tongue rolled across the pucker, and then it made circles around the ring. Grayson let out a sigh, and Aiden began to feast on him. He pushed his tongue inside and let it wag back and forth inside of him.

“You taste so fucking good. Push that ass out for me,” he instructed.

“Fuck,” Grayson uttered.

He pushed more of his ass back. More of Aiden’s thick tongue eased inside of him. He slapped those cheeks and buried himself deep between those dark cakes. He removed his tongue and pushed his middle finger inside and twisted it. The inferno inside of Grayson ass the single best feeling in the world. Aiden pushed his finger deeper inside of him. Grayson began to bounce back and forth on Aiden’s finger. He could feel the warmth and liquid in his ass.

“Fuck me, baby. Please,” Grayson cried.

Aiden couldn’t say no to him. He stood up and lined his incredible thick cock up with Grayson’s hole. He pushed and his cock slid inside of the man. They gasped as every inch slowly disappeared. Grayson felt his walls expand and contrast around Aiden’s cock. The feeling was so intense. He loved every second of it. Aiden kissed the back of his neck and wrapped his arms around Grayson’s waist.

He began to pick up the pace. He fucked him like he belonged to him. Aiden’s dick began to slid in and out of the man. You could hear the sound of Aiden’s pelvis slamming into Grayson’s backside. Moans filled the space and Grayson began to throw his ass back on Aiden’s dick. That beast of a cock stretched him like so deliciously.

“Give it to me. Let me take you,” Aiden whispered as he ran his hands along Grayson’s spinal cord.

His cock dug deeper inside of him. That hole began to moisten, and suddenly it was dripping wet. IT throbbed and pulsated around Aiden’s member. It slipped out, and juices flowed from Grayson’s gaping hole. Aiden flipped onto his back and spread his legs wide open. His cock slid back inside of Grayson. Aiden began to nail him. He leaned down and planted his lips against Grayson’s tasty lips.

“You’re mine,” he growled. It wasn’t a question. It was a bold declaration.

As they kissed Aiden fucked him harder and harder. His cock twisted and screwed with muscle and fiber of his being. He plowed through that chocolate ass and rearranged Grayson’s inside with every hot and steamy thrust. Aiden threw his head back as Grayson’s soft anal muscles flexed around his cock. Sweat began to pour off them. He fucked harder, faster, and deeper. The sound of flesh clapping and bodies sticking together sent tingles through anyone who could hear them.

Grayson cried out, “FUCK ME! FUCK ME!”

Aiden gave him what he wanted. He fucked him hard. His cock drilled into him like a power tool. That hole was throbbing and swollen. The bull had come out, and Grayson knew just how to handle it. Aiden wrapped his hand around Grayson’s cock and began to stroke. He wanted to take Grayson every way he could think of. His dick beat through those walls.

Aiden exclaimed, “Squeeze them walls around this here cock. Yes! Just like that.”

He did what was asked of him and squeezed those anal walls harder. Grayson cock leaked precum all over him. Aiden moved in and out of him with purpose. His body glistened from the sweat pouring from him. He was in his element. His cock was singing to Grayson’s body and insides. Grayson was willing to hear Aiden’s song. His own body sang a song that only Aiden could understand. The bed squeaked, and Grayson’s dark body rocked back and forth.

The pounding grew louder. Aiden fucked into that tight hole harder. His nails dug into Grayson’s flesh. He stroked Grayson’s cock faster and made the man’s body squirm underneath him. Grayson’s toes curled, and his eyes rolled. His cock throbbed in Aiden’s hand and then it erupted with hot cum. His hole pulsed repeatedly around Aiden’s cock. Aiden couldn’t take the feelings. It was like sensory overload for his cock.  He slammed deep inside of Grayson. He cried out hundreds of profanities as his cock released his semen completely inside of Grayson.

He pulled his cock out of Grayson and instructed him to push it out. Grayson pushed and his puffy hole opened and the cum dripped from him. Aiden dropped to his knees licked, sucked, and slurped the cum from Grayson’s hole.

HOURS LATER…

The two men slept peacefully, wrapped in the warm embrace of one another. The TV flickered in the background. It was 5 am, and the world was resting. Then the volume on the TV went up a notch.

The meteorologist’s voice:

“We’re tracking an unusual system moving across the Texas panhandle. Multiple rotations embedded, extremely high dew points, and a surface low that continues to deepen…”

A map flashed on the screen. A spiral of red and purple blooming over western Oklahoma.

“Models are now aligning on what may be a historic event. We’re talking high-end supercell development, tornadic activity possible throughout the entire day, beginning at any moment now.”

Grayson stirred in his sleep. Aiden’s arms instinctively tightened around him.

“This system has the potential to produce long-track tornadoes, including the rare EF-5 classification. Anyone in the warning area, please make a plan now.”

The wind outside picked up.

The meteorologist’s voice grew more urgent:

“This is not a drill. This is not your average spring or summer storm. We’re looking at conditions we haven’t seen in years…maybe decades. This is a once-in-a-century type of storm. This is the kind of day that changes everything.”

The screen dimmed, and then it went out. Subconsciously, a sleeping Grayson reached for Aiden’s hand under the sheets. Their fingers intertwined again.

Somewhere outside, miles and miles away, the sky began to break up. With clear skies, the world is ripped apart! I hope you’re ready for what comes next…

TO BE CONTINUED

© Grayson Rose 2025. All rights reserved.