It was Saturday morning. Gavon stood in his kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of soft cotton briefs, coffee in hand, gazing out the window. Effie brushed against his calf, her tail flicking with independence.

The memory of the bearded stranger was still vivid, etched into the soft edges of his mind like a secret fantasy he wasn’t ready to let go of. But the city doesn’t stop. And neither did life.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his thoughts.

He walked over, bare feet on cold tile, and opened it without much caution. On the other side stood a man he’d only seen once or twice before in the building—tall, broad, white skin flushed from the sun, wearing a tank top that hugged his chest in all the right ways.

“Hey,” the man said, smiling warmly. “Sorry to bug you. I’m Bruno. My dad owns the building. We’re doing some work in one of the units, and I just wanted to give you a heads up in case there’s noise.”

Gavon blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Oh. Uh, thanks.”

Bruno’s eyes flicked down for a split second, no doubt catching a glimpse of Gavon’s nearly naked body, before politely returning to his face. “Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“It’s okay,” Gavon replied, suddenly aware of how exposed he was. But he didn’t move. “Thanks for the notice.”

Bruno nodded, then added with a grin, “Nice cat.”

Gavon looked down at Effie, who had padded into the hallway like she owned it. “Yeah, she’s... something else.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Bruno cleared his throat. “Well, uh, if anything gets too loud, feel free to text me or knock. I’m just on the second floor.” He handed Gavon a little torn piece of paper with a number scribbled in pen.

Their fingers brushed. Gavon felt it.

“Thanks, Bruno.”

“No problem. Have a good one.”

As the door closed, Gavon stood there for a moment, holding the slip of paper, his pulse a little faster than before.

Bruno. Building owner’s son. Tall, built, friendly.

A distraction?

Or something else entirely?

Gavon couldn't stop thinking about him.

All day at the office, while replying to emails and sitting through dull Zoom meetings, his mind wandered back to the subway, to those eyes, that coat, that voice. He replayed the moment over and over, like a scene from a film that lingered just under his skin.

"Sir… how’s your day going?" The words echoed like a tease.

He hadn’t even answered. He had just stood there—shocked, silent, throbbing with something he couldn’t name. It wasn’t just lust. Or wasn’t only lust. It was curiosity. Longing. Mystery.

Later that night, he found himself staring at the ceiling, fully clothed, hands on his chest, heart racing. The city buzzed outside his apartment, but inside it was quiet. Except for the noise in his head.

Effie, his cat, jumped onto the bed, claiming her usual spot on his legs. She meowed once, unimpressed by Gavon’s daze. He smiled faintly and scratched behind her ear.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he whispered to her. “You don’t take the subway.”

He closed his eyes. And then, the dream came.

He was on the train again. Same car. Same time. The stranger—his stranger—walked straight to him this time. No distance. No delay. He leaned in, placed a warm hand on Gavon’s thigh, and whispered something Gavon couldn’t make out.

But his touch burned. And Gavon leaned into it, let it happen.

Their lips touched—barely. Electricity.

He woke up sweating, his breath shallow, his underwear damp.

“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand down his chest.

The image was too vivid. Too real. And too frustrating.

He got up and went to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of cold water, then sat by the window, watching the early light creep in. Something had shifted. Something in him was open now.

He didn’t know who the man was, but he wanted to.

No—he needed to.

And somewhere deep inside, he knew this wasn’t the last time they’d cross paths.

The relentless summer sun beat down on the deserted campus of Crestwood University, baking
the brick pathways and wilting the sparse shrubbery. For most, summer break meant freedom,
escape. But for Kaelen "Kael" Thorne, it meant the echoing silence of empty halls and the
relentless, almost oppressive, awareness of his own body. A star forward on the university’s
basketball team, Kaelen was a physical specimen – tall, broad-shouldered, with a defined
musculature that spoke of countless hours on the court. But nature, or perhaps some
mischievous deity, had blessed – or cursed – him with a feature that overshadowed all others:
his chest.
His pectorals weren't merely large; they were monumental. Meaty, almost impossibly full, they
seemed to defy typical male anatomy, swelling from his sternum with a startling, almost feminine
curve. And at their apex, nestled amidst the dense muscle, were his nipples. Not small, discreet
points, but thick, prominent, perfectly circular discs, the color of a fresh, rosy eraser. They were
perpetually, shamelessly hard, poking through even the thickest fabric, little sentinels
announcing his presence long before he spoke.
Kaelen hated them. Or rather, he hated the attention they garnered. Men and women alike, their
eyes drawn inexorably, magnetically, to those two impossibly erect nubs. He’d catch glances,
hear whispers, see eyes widen just a fraction. But the real torment came from his four best
friends and teammates: Jax, the brash point guard with a wicked grin; Finn, the quiet,
observant forward; Rhys, the boisterous center who never shied from a challenge; and Cody,
the quick-witted shooting guard who, like Kaelen, was stuck on campus for summer training.
They called them "his tits," his "man milkers," his "udders." They joked about "milking" him,
about the "cream" he must produce. And the worst part? They bounced. Every step Kaelen
took, those two substantial masses jiggled and swayed, a lewd, hypnotic rhythm that drew even
more attention.
His athletic endeavors, ironically, exacerbated the issue. The constant movement of basketball,
the sweat, the friction of his jersey – it all conspired to make his chest even more noticeable, his
nipples even harder, even more painfully sensitive. He’d tried everything: compression shirts,
multiple layers, even taping them down once, a desperate, futile attempt that only left his skin
raw and angry. “Can’t even wear a damn shirt without feeling like I’m being groped,” he’d
grumbled to Cody one sweltering afternoon, peeling off a damp undershirt that clung to his
engorged chest like a second skin. “It’s like they’ve got a mind of their own.”
Cody just chuckled, his gaze, like everyone else’s, drawn to the prominent, ruby-hued points.
“Maybe they do, man. Maybe they’re just begging for attention.”
The summer nights on campus stretched long and languid, punctuated by the chirping of
crickets and the distant hum of air conditioning units. With most students gone, the five
teammates had the run of the place. Their evenings were a blur of intense workouts, takeout
food, and increasingly raucous sessions of poker or video games in Jax’s cramped dorm room.
Alcohol flowed freely, a balm against the heat and the boredom, and with it, inhibitions loosened.
The jokes about Kaelen’s chest grew bolder, more direct, laced with a potent mix of fraternalteasing and something deeper, something unspoken.
One particularly humid Friday night, after a grueling double practice, the five of them were
sprawled across Jax’s worn couches and floor, empty pizza boxes piled high, a nearly-drained
handle of cheap whiskey glinting under the dim desk lamp. Jax was loud, Finn was unusually
quiet, Rhys was booming with laughter, and Cody was slurring his words. Kaelen, usually more
reserved with his drinking, felt a pleasant buzz, a dulling of the ever-present self-consciousness.
“Seriously, Kael,” Rhys slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at Kaelen’s chest, where his nipples
were, as usual, pushing insistently against his thin cotton t-shirt. “Those things are practically
begging for a squeeze. Are you sure you’re not lactating?” He laughed, a deep, rumbling sound
that vibrated through the small room.
Kaelen rolled his eyes, a familiar flush creeping up his neck. “Shut up, Rhys. They’re just… like
that.”
“Like that?” Jax cut in, his eyes narrowed in a playful, predatory gaze. “They’re like two ripe
peaches just waiting to be plucked, Kael. Or, you know, melons. Big, juicy melons.” He leaned
forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “C’mon, just one little touch. No one’s
gonna know.”
Kaelen’s heart gave a sudden, uncomfortable lurch. This wasn’t new, the teasing, the
suggestive comments, but tonight, fueled by the whiskey, there was an edge to it, a daring
challenge he hadn’t felt before. “No,” he said, his voice firmer than he felt. “Absolutely not. Cut it
out, all of you.”
Cody, normally the most respectful of boundaries, was emboldened by the alcohol. He scooted
closer, a sly, almost mischievous glint in his eyes. “What’s the harm, Kael? We’re your boys.
We’ve seen you naked a million times in the locker room. Just let us have a feel. We’re dying of
curiosity.” His hand, surprisingly gentle despite the inebriation, hovered inches from Kaelen’s
chest.
“No!” Kaelen repeated, pushing himself back against the armrest of the couch. His nipples,
already hypersensitive from the day’s activities, stiffened even further at the mere proximity of
Cody’s hand, a sudden, almost painful jolt shooting through them.
But the whiskey had done its work. The boys were past caring about a simple “no.” They’d been
fantasizing about this for months, their crude jokes a thinly veiled cover for a potent, shared
curiosity. This was their chance.
Rhys, with a drunken bellow, launched himself forward, tackling Kaelen’s legs, pinning him to
the couch. Kaelen let out a startled shout, struggling against the unexpected assault. “Hey!
What the hell, guys?!”
Jax, seizing the opportunity, was on him in an instant, his hands, surprisingly strong and
determined, closing around Kaelen’s shoulders, pressing him down. “Just relax, Kael! Let us
love on those big ol’ honkers!” His voice was a mix of playful menace and genuine excitement.
Kaelen thrashed, his mind screaming in protest, but his body was already reacting. The friction
of the thin cotton against his nipples as he struggled sent waves of electric sensation through
him, a maddening mixture of arousal and alarm. “Get off me! Seriously, guys, cut it out!”
Finn, who had been watching silently, now moved with a quiet precision, sliding Kaelen’s t-shirt
up and over his head in one swift motion, exposing his magnificent, heaving chest to the dim
light of the room. A collective gasp, part awe, part perverse delight, escaped his friends.
There they were, fully revealed. Two enormous, rounded masses of muscle and flesh, taut and
glistening with a sheen of sweat from the struggle. And at their centers, those two magnificent,
defiant eraser-pink nipples, so engorged they looked like they might burst, standing at full,
exquisite attention.
Jax wasted no time. His hands, rough from years of gripping basketballs, landed with a firm,almost possessive squeeze on Kaelen’s pecs. Kaelen let out a strangled moan, a sound he
hadn’t known he could make. It wasn’t just the pressure; it was the sudden, overwhelming shock
of cold skin on his bare, hyper-sensitive flesh. Jax kneaded the firm muscle, his thumbs circling
the rock-hard nipples, which felt like fire under his touch.
“Oh, fuck,” Jax breathed, his voice thick with a mixture of lust and disbelief. “They’re even better
than I imagined. So firm, so… meaty.” He squeezed harder, eliciting another sharp gasp from
Kaelen.
Cody, meanwhile, had fallen to his knees beside the couch, his eyes wide and fixed on the
exposed bounty. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he gingerly touched the
underside of Kaelen’s left pec, marveling at its surprising weight and softness beneath the
muscle. He then moved his palm to the full, tender underside of Kaelen's pec, gently lifting it, as
if testing its heft. "They're so… heavy," he whispered, his voice hushed with reverence and a
touch of disbelief. His thumb brushed against the prominent areola, and Kaelen involuntarily
arched his back, a shudder ripping through him.
Rhys, still holding Kaelen’s legs, released them to grab Kaelen’s hips, pulling him further down
the couch, his face a mask of drunken desire. He leaned over, his hot breath ghosting across
Kaelen’s right pec. “Let’s get a real taste,” he growled, and before Kaelen could even process
the words, Rhys’s mouth was on him.
A wave of pure, unadulterated shock, followed by an immediate, searing pleasure, shot through
Kaelen’s entire being. Rhys’s lips, hot and wet, closed around his right nipple, drawing it deep
into his mouth with a powerful suck. Kaelen’s hips bucked involuntarily, his hands instinctively
gripping the armrests, his knuckles white. Rhys sucked harder, his tongue swirling around the
thick, prominent nipple, teasing it, rolling it against the roof of his mouth. A low, guttural moan
tore from Kaelen’s throat, a sound he barely recognized as his own.
Jax, not to be outdone, shifted his attention to Kaelen’s left pec. He squeezed it firmly, pulling
the entire mass of muscle and flesh forward, then lowered his head, his mouth opening wide.
He didn’t just suckle; he latched on, his lips encompassing the entire areola, drawing Kaelen’s
nipple deep into his oral cavity. His tongue worked frantically, pressing, rubbing, and swirling
against the hypersensitive tip, creating a friction that bordered on painful, yet was undeniably,
excruciatingly good. Kaelen gasped, his chest heaving, his body a trembling mess of conflicting
sensations. The raw, vulgar intimacy of it, the feeling of his friends’ mouths on his most
vulnerable, ridiculed parts, was overwhelming.
Finn, silent but no less intense, had moved to Kaelen’s side. His fingers, long and nimble, began
to trace the outlines of Kaelen’s ribs, then slowly, deliberately, moved up, exploring the curves of
his obliques before settling on the underside of Kaelen’s left pec, where Cody had been. He
kneaded it gently, his thumb rubbing rhythmic circles around the tender flesh, sending shivers
through Kaelen. Then, with a sudden, bold move, he used both hands to cup Kaelen’s left pec,
lifting it, feeling its full weight and heft in his palms. His fingers massaged the surrounding
muscle, then moved to the side, where he used his index finger and thumb to pinch Kaelen’s
sensitive skin, just above the areola.
“They’re so… full,” Finn whispered, his voice a low rumble against Kaelen’s ear, his breath hot.
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Kaelen’s collarbone as he watched Jax and Rhys
work on his nipples.
Kaelen was lost, adrift in a sea of sensation. His initial protests had dissolved into a series of
gasps, moans, and desperate, half-formed pleas that were quickly lost in the sounds of wet
mouths and hungry suckling. Rhys was still latched onto his right nipple, his jaws working,
pulling and tugging, his tongue a relentless tormentor. Jax had moved from just suckling to a
more aggressive, almost biting exploration, his teeth lightly scraping against the sensitive skin ofKaelen’s left areola, sending fresh jolts of agony and pleasure through him.
Cody, emboldened by the sheer audacity of his friends, leaned in close to Kaelen’s chest, his
nose pressing into the soft, yielding flesh between his pecs. He inhaled deeply, a soft groan
escaping him. “God, Kael, you smell… amazing.” He then moved his mouth, not to the nipples,
but to the upper curve of Kaelen’s right pec, just above Rhys’s head. His lips parted, and he
began to lap at the sweat-slicked skin, his tongue tracing patterns, his movements surprisingly
delicate. Then, with a sudden burst of primal hunger, he bit down, not hard enough to break the
skin, but enough to make Kaelen cry out, a sharp, choked sound.
“Fuck!” Kaelen hissed, his hips bucking again, his hands now buried in his own hair, pulling at
the strands. The pain was sharp, but it was quickly overshadowed by a throbbing, aching
pleasure that was almost unbearable.
Rhys pulled away from his nipple, leaving it slick with saliva, glistening in the dim light, engorged
and dark. “My turn,” he declared, his voice husky, his eyes glazed with desire. He grabbed
Kaelen’s left pec, pulling it towards him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He then clamped
his hand over the entire breast-like mound, his thumb and forefinger meeting to cup it fully, his
fingers pressing into the sides, kneading the firm muscle with an almost reverent intensity. He
then applied firm pressure, squeezing the base of Kaelen's pec as if to express something, his
gaze fixed on the engorged nipple.
Jax had moved to Kaelen's right side, his hand tracing the outline of Kaelen's pec down to his
ribcage, before returning to his nipple. He tugged at it gently, then hard, making Kaelen
whimper. "So sensitive, aren't they, Kael?" he murmured, his voice low and taunting. He then
licked the entire surface of Kaelen's right pec, his tongue rough and abrasive against the skin,
leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He moved down to Kaelen's abdomen, tracing a line
with his tongue, making Kaelen writhe and squirm, before returning to the object of his desire.
He sucked on Kaelen’s nipple with a vacuum-like intensity, making a loud, wet slurping sound
that echoed in the quiet room. Kaelen's entire body seized, his back arching off the couch.
Cody, still on his knees, decided to go for the most taboo act yet. He leaned in, his lips parted,
and began to blow cool air onto Kaelen’s overheated, hyper-sensitive nipples, alternating
between his left and right. The sudden change in temperature, the delicate gust of air against
the raw, engorged flesh, sent new, exquisite shivers through Kaelen. He whimpered again, a
pathetic, almost pleading sound, his chest heaving, his body shuddering uncontrollably. Then,
Cody’s tongue flicked out, cold and wet, tracing the hard, swollen circumference of Kaelen’s left
nipple, a tantalizing circle of sensation that made Kaelen moan louder, a raw, desperate sound
that was more surrender than protest.
Rhys, seeing Kaelen's complete abandon, decided to take things further. He reached over and
seized Kaelen's right nipple, twisting it roughly between his thumb and forefinger. Kaelen cried
out, a sharp, choked sound that was half pain, half pleasure. Rhys then tugged at it, hard,
pulling it out and away from Kaelen's chest, making the entire pec jiggle and bounce with the
movement. "Let's see how much you can take, big boy," he growled, his eyes dark with drunken
desire. He then clamped down on the base of Kaelen's nipple with his teeth, not biting, but using
the pressure to create an intense, almost unbearable ache that resonated deep within Kaelen's
chest.
Kaelen was reduced to a panting, moaning mess. The sensation was beyond anything he had
ever experienced. His entire chest was alive, throbbing, aching with an almost unbearable
pleasure-pain. His nipples, which had always been a source of embarrassment, were now the
focal point of an intense, shattering climax. He could feel himself hardening, a deep, insistent
throb in his groin, completely separate from the exquisite torture being inflicted upon his chest,
yet irrevocably linked.
The friends continued their relentless assault. They took turns suckling, licking, kneading, and
teasing Kaelen's pecs and nipples, their hands and mouths a blur of motion. They grunted with
effort, their breathing ragged, their faces flushed with a mixture of alcohol and raw desire.
Kaelen was a willing victim, his body completely at their mercy, his mind a hazy fog of pure,
unadulterated sensation. His hips continued to buck, his back arched, his moans growing
louder, more desperate, as his body trembled on the precipice of a climax.
Finally, with a collective, guttural groan, and a final, prolonged suck from Jax that pulled a
choked sob from Kaelen, the assault tapered off. Exhausted, panting, and slick with sweat and
saliva, Kaelen lay sprawled on the couch, his chest still heaving, his nipples screaming with
residual sensation. His friends, equally spent, collapsed around him, their breathing heavy, the
smell of whiskey, sweat, and something else – something musky and primal – hanging heavy in
the air.
Silence descended, broken only by ragged breaths. The dim light seemed softer now, the room
holding the lingering heat of their transgression. Kaelen slowly became aware of his
surroundings, of the sticky feeling on his chest, of the throbbing ache in his nipples. He didn’t
know what to feel. Shame, yes, a searing blush that crept up his chest to his cheeks. But also…
a strange, unsettling exhilaration. A raw, animalistic satisfaction. And a profound, almost
terrifying intimacy with these four men, his teammates, his friends, who had just crossed a line
he never thought would be breached.
The morning after was a study in awkwardness. The empty whiskey bottle and pizza boxes
were silent witnesses to the night’s debauchery. Kaelen woke feeling sore, both physically and
emotionally. His nipples were still exquisitely tender, even throbbing faintly beneath his new,
thicker t-shirt. The friends avoided eye contact, their usual boisterous banter replaced by
mumbled apologies and forced cheerfulness.
But beneath the surface of discomfort, something had irrevocably shifted. A new current ran
between them, a silent understanding that transcended words. It was a bond forged in taboo, in
shared vulnerability and audacious desire. Kaelen knew, with a certainty that both thrilled and
terrified him, that his "man milkers" had become more than just a source of teasing; they had
become a secret, a shared experience that would forever bind him to his friends in a way he
could never have imagined. And as for his nipples, perpetually hard and proud, they seemed to
bear the mark of their recent adoration, forever a testament to a night when jokes went too far,
and inhibition finally crumbled.

the end

It was an ordinary Thursday in the city. Gavon had taken the subway like always, the same time, the same platform, the same tired faces all around him. He had his headphones in, but no music played. He liked pretending he was listening to something to avoid interaction, to create a bubble.

As he stepped into the train car, something felt different. Maybe it was the heavy scent of someone's cologne lingering in the air, or the faint warmth of bodies too close for comfort. He glanced up, and that's when he saw him.

Tall. Bearded. A dark coat and a pair of piercing eyes that scanned the crowd with practiced indifference. The man stood near the door, holding onto the railing with one hand, scrolling his phone with the other. Gavon froze for a second. Something about this stranger stirred a heat low in his belly.

He quickly looked away and walked further into the car, pretending not to notice, but every nerve in his body was aware of him. He felt the man's presence like a magnet, subtle but impossible to ignore.

The train moved, rocking gently. People shifted. Gavon found a spot near the door opposite the man, close enough to sneak glances but far enough not to draw attention.

Every now and then, their eyes met. Briefly. Sharply. As if recognizing each other from a forgotten dream. Gavon's fingers tightened around the strap of his bag, his throat dry.

When the train jolted to a stop, more passengers got in. The space closed. The man was pushed a little closer. Gavon could smell him now. Warm, masculine, a hint of spice and smoke. His breath caught.

Another stop. This time, Gavon felt something else—eyes. He dared a look. The man was staring directly at him.

Gavon looked away, his cheeks burning. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears. He didn't understand why this stranger had such an effect on him. He'd seen handsome men before. He'd even hooked up with some. But this was different. It wasn't just desire—it was... intrigue.

The train stopped again. The man moved. He walked towards the door, and for a moment Gavon thought he would leave. But he stopped just beside him. Close. Too close.

Gavon didn't move.

He didn't speak.

Neither did the man.

But the silence was electric.

And then the train started again. The man reached up to hold the overhead rail, and his coat brushed Gavon's arm. A shiver ran down Gavon's spine.

He swallowed.

And then, finally, the man leaned in. Just slightly. Just enough.

He spoke, a whisper, low and deep:

"Sir... how's your day going?"

Gavon blinked. His lips parted but no words came.

The train doors opened. The man stepped off without looking back.

Gavon stood there, breathless, his body still tingling.

He didn’t know his name.

He didn’t know where he was going.

But he knew one thing:

Nothing would be the same again.

One night in the house we were playing drinking games, me and James didn’t drink so we did shots of random things like lemon juice. About half way through the night hetty decided she wanted to play a raunchy question game and googled it so we started playing that. It was mainly silly things like what’s your body count and never have I ever done anal etc, but it was a bit of fun especially being sober watching these normal reserved people let lose. It started to get late and all the drunks were getting tired but me and james were still quite awake so we opted not to go to bed yet. Once everyone went to bed I asked him about one of the questions

Me “so I gotta ask, you said you never did Anal is that true or did hetty make you say that haha”

James “nah she never wanted to”

Me “Fair bro”

We sat in silence after that for a little bit, he was sat on the other side of the sofa in a white button up shirt that had the top 3 buttons undone, revealing some of his chest and chest hair, and some trouser because he’d been to some event during the day and not changed yet.

James “I can’t lie man if she would let me I would”

Me “have you asked her?”

James “yeah she’s not interested, she’s mad vanilla”

Me “ is that bad?”

James “well don’t say anything” he said stopping waiting for me to respond so I just agreed and nodded

James “I’m not super kinky, but I do enjoy some things she won’t even consider”

Me “damn really that sucks, you had an ex didn’t you?”

James “nah bro she was the same, they both won’t even suck my dick and I miss having one I’ve had like 5 in my life”

Me “fuck really, that’s not on man, I mean to be fair I love head ahha”

James “exactly, and that’s just the surface level of it”

Me “what do you mean?”

James “well, I like guess I wanna be the man in bed you get me? Like it’s in and out with hetty, but I want it to be more when we have sex she does it for me if that makes sense?”

Me “what as in she rides you and stuff?”

James “not exactly, more like, I don’t know the word, but just services me more, I wanna feel more in control”

Me “so you wanna be more dominating and her to be more submissive?”

James “yeah exactly”

I’m not going to lie I was shocked by this because I thought it was the perfect relationship

Me “why don’t you try get some inspiration from porn ”

He just laughed and we went quiet again.

After about 15 mins he yawned and stretched putting his arm on my side over the back of the sofa and spread his legs abit. His hand landed a few inches from where my shoulder was.

James “that game was fun I guess”

Me “yeah I guess so, I didn’t mind it”

James “yeah you shocked me with some of your answers”

Me “well we all knew I have a history”

James “yeah I know but you don’t seem to vanilla”

Me “I’ve never claimed to be haha”

James “well do you wanna play again just me and you? I’m interested in learning more, might aswell live vicariously if i can’t explore myself haha” I thought about it for a second

Me “sure but im not doing another lemon shot my stomach hurts already”

James “haha that’s chill well do other things if we done it or don’t wand answer”

Me “well there’s no point in not answering if it’s just us too, how about 100% honest, idk about the forfeit though”

James “neither I’ll have a look online see what that says”

He sat scrolling on his phone for a few mins trying to figure it out.

James “What abouttttt, I don’t know man”

Me “I don’t know I’ll look to”

After ten mins of scrolling options that were way too in apropriet in our friendship George peeped up

James “the only thing I’m finding is stripping and sexual favours haha”

Don’t get me wrong I wish, he’s hot and ripped, but that would be weird I just laughed

James “I know I’m messing”

Me “so what we going to do then”

James “well I don’t mind taking some cloths off, I like my body”

Me “haha, that’s like 5 questions”

James “better make them good then “

Me “I don’t know man, can’t do it like that”

James “okay, what if we took something off of we have done it, put it on if we havent, then just pause every other round ? That way it last longer”

Me “I mean I guess so, is it not weird?”

James “like I say, I like my body, I think I’m pretty hot naked so like why not haha”

God I love someone who brags

Me “I guess so, well you ask first then I guess, we’ll do one of each question type at a time?”

James “sounds good, well never have I ever gave head”

Me “stating strong”

I was wearing 2 socks, a jacket, shirt, underwear and joggers, that’s 6 points.

He was in 2 socks, a t shirt, trousers and I assume underwear, that’s 5 points.

I took off my jacket.

Me “James, it counts if you are a girl out”

James “no it doesn’t that’s not head!”

Me “I’ll let you off, only because now we’re even with cloths”

He just laughed

Me “never have I ever swallowed my own sperm”

James stared at me for a second clearly thinking.

He bent forward and took off his left sock, I followed suit and did the same

James “let’s not tell anyone that okay”

Me “well I got to know what did you think?”

James “it’s fine, I’ve done it a few times, I shoot hard so I have came in my face when I wank quite a few times and sometimes I forget to close my mouth, not aweful I gotta say”

Fuck that’s really hot

Me “damn, that’s something, so it’s only been a little here and there then”

James “yeah pretty much since I was thirteen at least twice a month I’d say, apart from one time I tried it properly and kind of sat upside down and… well you know”

Me “no what do you mean?”

I knew

James “don’t make me say man”

Me “I have no idea what you mean James”

James “well, I was laid on my sofa, and had my legs over the back of it so I was upside down, and I jerked off, and well, you know, let it all go in my mouth, I was like 15 and the time before was curiouse what a lot tasted like”

God thinking about him with his mouth open for a dick had me turned on abit

Me “what did you think”

James “well I taste great” he laughed

Me “I’m sure you do man”

He asked me what my body count was after that, I answers him honestly and he was abit shocked, and I asked him the same, his was 2, which I could have guessed.

We were both with 4 clothing items now.

James “okay, have we ever… had sex over 100 times?”

I feel like he knows we both have? I told him my body count being high, and he knows I was with someone a while, and he’s been in a relationship for 3 years… we both took off our other sock.

Me “least we are still even…”

He hmm’d me and laughed

Me “never have I ever… had a finger in my ass”

I couldn’t think of anything and kind of didn’t realise I’d have to take something off until after I spoke…

I lifted my shirt over my head

James “well that was obvious”

James laughed, then sat forward as he un buttoned his shirt

Me “Wait what”

James “again curiouse 15 year old, I’ll try anything once haha”

He got all of his buttons undone, as if in slow motion he peeled his arms out of his shirt, he was side on from me, as he sat back, shirtless, I could see the hair covering his Rock hard abs, even with him slouched abit, they were still prominent, then it lead up to his juicy pecs, fuck, his body is unreal. And his arms, they weren’t huge, but fuck did he have his muscles.

James “I got to ask, have you ever checked me out?”

Me “wait what?”

I snapped out of me checking him out

James “I mean you don’t have to answer but then that’s more cloths off”

Me “that’s not what we agreed”

James “I think it’s fair see as how we said 100% honest didn’t we”

Me “yeah… I guess… I have yeah”

It was quiet for a second

James “I don’t blame you, when did you do it?”

Me “well you know when we went swimming at the ponds during the heat wave?”

James “yeah”

Me “when you came out of the water I kind of caught myself checking out your body”

He laughed at me

Me “don’t laugh it’s so embarrasing”

James “nahh, don’t worry, I have a muscly body and if it’s your thing I get it”

I felt my face getting redder by the second, I wasent going to mention the fact I stayed n the water that day because my boner wouldn’t go down or the fact I wanked over that image of him for about a week after.

Me “welll, my turn, have you ever tried it with a guy”

George “no, I jerked in the same bed as a friend whilst he did but that’s about it, and it was to see who could shoot further, I’m sure you can guess who won haha”

I can’t believe how chill and calm he is about this.

Me “damn yeah, from what u said I’m guessing you won then ahha”

James “yeah, and to rub it in, I aimed my dick so it hit him in the face he was not happy”

Me “shit really?”

Hot

James “yeah, now that was hot, not because it was a guy, but because I got to show off if you get me?”

Me “yeah I think so”

James “never have I ever had sex in public?”

Fuck, I started pulling down my joggers, I had pre tucked my dick to try and make it less obvious, I noticed James haven’t moved

Me “wait, never?”

George “I wish… never”

Fuck

He started putting his shirt on, but he left it un buttoned, somehow this looked sexier then before, I noticed he was facing more more now aswell after he sat back up.

I want to get that shirt off again without taking off my underwear.

James “No point buttoning again incase I gotta take that back off”

Me “never have I ever, eaten pussy”

James “are you trying to get naked I know you have been with a girl”

He said removing his shirt just as fast as it came off

Me “welll we fucked, I fingers her, she blew me… but I never put my mouth any where near it haha”

James “very sneaky, clearly trying to check me out again hmm”

Me “bro shut up”

We both laughed as I put my joggers back on

He asked me how old I was when I lost my virginity, I told him 18 which made him ask so how come in 3 years I’ve slept with so many people, which I said not your question now making him grunt at me.

Me “how often do you and hetty have sex”

James “I’m lucky if it’s once every Fortnite”

Fuck he’s in a drought

Me “oh I’m sorry man”

James “don’t be it’s chill”

I actually felt like he was sad when saying it

James “anyway, never have I ever caught my cum in my foreskin”

How fucking random

Me “that’s… unique”

But I have… I took my joggers off again

Hehe “but you have… and so have I”

Damn, I looked over watching him pull his pants down, I think I realised why he was so dismissive when I said we had the same score earlier, he was going commande

Me “I guess you have lost”

I said with a stone in my throat, he was sat covering his dick, one hand at the base, the other covering the end of his other hand, was it big enough that he needed both? He was careful about how he was sat so I couldn’t see it

James “nahh, you have underwear it’s not fair, I’ll move my hands if I lose again deal? “

Me “deal”

How can I play this

Me “never have I ever, had a dirty dream about someone in this house that wasn’t my housemate”

Please don’t pick up your trousers James fuck

I turned my head, he’s smiling at me

Me “what?”

I asked feeling my voice croak

He laughed and lifted his hands, putting them behind his head, he knows what he’s doing.

He sat there, manspread, biceps flexed on show, he wasn’t facing me but I could still see it, he needed 2 hands

James “did I lose?”

I took of my underwear

Me “I guess not”

We sat there both naked

James “so it’s a draw, now what?”

He was so confident… then again with a body and dick like that I don’t blame him

It took everything not to tense my dick but it was semi, and I was thinking all sorts of things to stay soft…

Me “I don’t know bro what do you think”

james “I guess it’s time for sexual favours”

That got me, I got hard fuck…

Me “james don’t even joke”

James “haha sorry man, what if we do something compranising instead?”

Me “what do you mean?”

James “like, I don’t know, just sit in a compromising position I guess”

Me “sure but I’ll have to come up with some”

James “sure, do you wanna ask first this time?”

Me “erm yeah”

James “distracted?”

Me “what… no?”

Shit did he notice?

James “haha it’s fine everyone looks when they see it”

Me “sure… not that I meant to look… but you know…”

James “it’s hard to miss right”

Me “exactly… how big does that thing get?”

James “normally 9 inches, the girth kind off a coke, but if I’m really hard, 9.5, and the head gets huge”

Me “it’s a fucking weapon”

Hands “ that’s right, don’t worry I know how to use it though”

Me “what did you mean everyone? I thought only 2 had? Well 3 I guess”

James “well, when the lads on the team saw it, straight or not, they couldn’t look away, we shared showers”

Me “I didn’t even think of that”

James “yeah they would always compare and the smaller one would get a dick slap, they learned real quick not to try me, it was a thing on the team to get the newbie to compare with me haha”

Me “damn just whipping your softies out on the regular”

James “we compared hard”

Me “ not to stereotype, but your describing a gay porno, one I’ve watched haha”

Forced out a laugh

James “have you ever sucked a dick as big as mine?” He said as he picked up his soft/semi looking meat

Me “definitely not”

James “I didn’t think so, ask another before we play again”

Me “sure, when is the last time you came?”

He thought for a second

James “ Sunday I think, my balls are pretty full”

He lifted them as he said it, god I didn’t even notice they were huge…

It was Friday, that’s 5 days he must be so pent up

JAmes “if you saw me on your apps, and never knew me, would you match with me?”

I didn’t answer too fast, gave it a pause and pretended to think

Me “yeah, I guess I would”

Trying not to sound like I was depsertste to taste his cock

Me “anyway, never have I ever… came on grass”

I actually haven’t, I always came on myself or in a mouth so it rarely would hit them bed or ground

James “believe it or not… I have”

Me “Wait really?? I didn’t think you would have”

James “I say let’s stay how we are, keep the cloths of I like being naked anyways, we’ll just do forefits instead?”

Me “okay sure, do What’s this one?”

James“ well I’ll sit compromises, does sitting like how I told you I did when I was younger for a minute sound fair?”

Me “what sorry?”

He stood up, faced a way giving me a full view of his furry bubbly ass, he then went to the end of the sofa, and laid down, his dick stuck out as his head fell near to me, he smiled at me, then he used his arms to rotate his legs over the top of the sofa.

James “like this”

Me “I think.. that’s fair”

I couldn’t get the words out, I stuttered as I spoke

James “cool, never have I ever taken a nude”

Last night my man fucked me for over an honor. Started in doggy until we stood up & his huge bulbous head kept obliterating my prostate to the point pre cum / cum cane flying out of me. My prostate orgasm lasted almost a whole minute bc he kept fucking harder & harder as the nut dripped out.

Then he flipped me over on my back & was going at me slower & more passionate. My legs wrapped around him & me pulling him in close so I can feel his moans and hard breathing right in my ear. It felt too good where i let a full blown nut going all over my stomach & leaking on the bed. He knows how to fuck that when that happens he starts thrusting more aggressively so my orgasm intensity is beyond anything my body can handle. I’m writhing , screaming, scratching his back BEGGING him to keep fucking me harder & ANOTHER few spurts of nut comes out. At this point I’m covered in my nut & he goes & scoops it & slaps my face & puts his fingers down my throat & then licks up the rest & spits it in my face. At this point I can tell he wants to nut but I didn’t want him to feel rushed because he can take awhile. I pulled him close and said “you don’t have to rush baby, fuck me as long as you want and deep inside me.” I feel his cock throb a bit harder & starts licking the rest of the cum up & spitting. My left eye is covered in spit and cum so now I can only use my right eye and the way he’s looking at me is so fucking animalistic but romantic at the same time. I can tell he takes honor in fucking me the way he does. We’ve been together 5 years & our sex somehow eclipses the last. He’s gazing deep into my eyes & pumping me the hardest he’s been in the past 15 minutes I’ve been on my back. He comes close to me again & scoops my cheeks with both hands & is now full on going in & out of my used open hole. I somehow nut again & this time it’s a few drops but one of the most intense prostate orgasms I’ve had. He can feel my prostate throbbing and he finally unloads in me. Holding him close his body is shaking & I can feel his big mushroom head convulsing as I am crying out telling him how much I love him.

We lay there for a few seconds catching our breath & holding hands. He grabs me a tissue & wipes my face & kisses me. I try to stand but my legs are wobbly so I hold on to him , my ankles shaking. I feel his cock start to go back to soft but still hard enough for me to get on my knees & worship the dick that just gave me the greatest feeling of euphoria ever. I can taste more his precum & can the blood flow back to his shaft as I’m deep throating him. Suddenly he stands up , shoves me against the mirror & puts himself back in me. He’s going a little gentle since I’ve taken a pounding at this point and I need the support of the mirror to even stand. He puts him feet on mine to help my support & his full on fucking me again. My whole is so wet & open that it doesn’t hurt. Eventually this leads to him fucking another nut in me.

We clean up, take the dog for a walk, have a smoke on the porch & drink. Watch our show and go to bed. My whole body 2 hours later still somehow feels orgasmic , like there’s this electric current running through my body. I cleaned the area but it’s still open and has some left over lube. As he lays on my chest and we say goodnight. His soft soles running up & down my leg. He brings his hand to my stomach & feels I’m hard again. He looks at me, in the dark. Turns me on my side & slips his know hard cock in my hole. He knew I wanted it again but I was too tired to say it. He then proceeded to cuddle fuck me , leave another nut in me. And hold me close before bed.

I woke up in the morning to his cock twitching under the sheets. Amazed to find his morning wood after he pumped 3 loads into me. Unfortunately we both had early meetings but that didn’t stop me from stroking his gorgeous cock while he was sleeping before I needed to wake up.

I feel so lucky and wanted to share. It felt like my orgasm lasted for hours and hours.

50 year old was sucking my dick until I came in their mouth. Was the best blowjob I’ve ever gotten.

The Hung Gym Buddy

"The Hung Gym Buddy" is a raw, electrifying erotic tale about desire, obsession, and the thin line between curiosity and ruin. Fred, a shy young man, thinks the gym is just a place to sweat and forget his problems—until the day M'Baku, a sculpted Angolan with untamed sexual energy, walks in.

With razor-cut muscles, a deep voice, and an accent that drags words like a dare, M'Baku is pure, unapologetic virility. And when stolen glances, accidental touches, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and testosterone become too much, Fred finds himself trapped in a web of forbidden fantasies.

But there's a catch: M'Baku doesn’t seem to notice the effect he has—or does he?

The gym becomes a minefield of sexual tension, where every rep, every drop of sweat, every careless adjustment of that tight shorts pushes Fred closer to the edge.

How far is he willing to go?

Reader's Advisory:
"The Hung Gym Buddy" is an adult erotic fiction work intended for mature audiences only.

All characters and events are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. The story is published chapter by chapter, and the author reserves the right to modify or adjust the plot as needed.

Read at your own discretion—and enjoy the journey.

Today I had my first experience searching for & finding a hidden nude beach in the middle of the woods ! After following the trail, I took the secret trail a little bit further and found the hidden beach. It was wild because there was a guy sitting nude in the water just sunbathing, we chatted for a bit before I went back out.

Was kinda nervous cause first time, but I will obviously be going back & nude sun bathing soon, just wanna find friends to bring!

My best friend Liam’s got a girlfriend, Paige, but ever since I came out, he’s been looking at me differently. He can’t stop checking out my ass, and it’s driving me crazy. What happens when the line between friendship and something else starts to blur?​

Heads up ⚠ This story contains cheating. If that’s not your thing, feel free to skip this one.

.............................

Part 1: His Girlfriend Doesn't Know He's Into Me​

It’s been three days since I came out. And things between me and Liam? Well, things felt... off.

Liam’s always been the laid-back guy. Hot, straight, and completely oblivious to the effect he had on people. Especially me. We’d been best friends for years...roommates for the last six months. His girlfriend, Paige, was over most of the time, so it was always the three of us, hanging out.

Except now? It was different. I was different.

Ever since I came out, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop feeling him. It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed before. Liam was built like a brick wall: tall, broad, and that jawline? Hell, it could cut glass. Paige was lucky to have him, though I wasn’t sure she noticed how perfectly his T-shirts fit over his chest, or how his biceps looked when he lifted something. I sure as hell did.

But I hadn’t acted on it. I couldn’t. Not when he was straight.

Until recently.

Tonight, I wore booty shorts.

I never wore them around the house before. But since coming out, I’ve been experimenting, seeing how it feels to let myself be me, really. It’s like everything changed in three days, like a switch flipped, and suddenly, I was free to be this version of myself.

And maybe, just maybe, I wore those shorts hoping Liam would notice. Because in the back of my head, I wondered if he ever had, just never said anything. Maybe my ass was just too hard for him to ignore.

I sprawled across the couch, casually scrolling through my phone, letting my legs stretch out. I’d positioned myself just the right way, giving him a perfect view. Liam was in the kitchen, doing whatever the hell he always did when Paige wasn’t around. His girlfriend was out tonight, so it was just the two of us.

When he walked into the room, I could feel his gaze immediately. It was like heat, radiating toward me from where he stood. I kept my eyes on my phone, not wanting to let on that I knew. But I knew.

Liam’s voice cut through the quiet. “What the hell are you wearing?”

I smirked without looking up. “Shorts. You like?”

There was a pause. A long one.

He cleared his throat, still standing in the doorway, his eyes trained on my legs. On my ass. I saw him glance at me for half a second, then look away quickly. He coughed awkwardly. “You’ve... been dressing a little differently since you came out.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You noticed?”

He shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just... I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting it.”

I sat up slowly, shifting my legs so my shorts rode up just a little more. “What were you expecting, Liam?”

He stepped into the living room, his eyes flicking down to my legs again, before shooting up to my face. “This is... weird.”

It wasn’t weird. It was exciting. And the fact that Liam...straight, unbothered Liam was so fucking flustered? That was even more exciting.

“You keep staring,” I said, my voice quieter now, teasing. “Is it bothering you?”

He swallowed. I could see the muscles in his throat tighten. “I’m not staring.”

“You’re not staring at my ass? Really?”

Liam’s face reddened. He crossed his arms, his jaw tight. “Stop being a dick, Tommy.”

“I’m not the one who keeps looking, mate. I’m just here, minding my own business.”

He was standing way too close to me now. His broad chest was right in front of my face, and I could smell his cologne, the faint scent of soap. He was so... there. Too close. It felt electric. Like if I breathed in too deep, I’d just fall into him.

I stood up slowly, standing inches away from him now. “So, what’s the problem, Liam?”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “There’s no problem.”
“Then stop looking at me like you’re gonna eat me.”
He blinked, his lips pressing together. “I’m not...I don’t...”

But his eyes kept drifting. Down. To my thighs. To my ass. And the longer he stood there, the more I could tell. I wasn’t imagining this. He was into it. Into me.

“I know you’re straight, Liam,” I said, my voice low. “But if you keep looking at me like that, it’s gonna be hard to pretend you’re not into it.”

He finally snapped his gaze up to mine, eyes wide with something; shock? Guilt? Lust? I couldn’t tell, but it was definitely there. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Just...” His words were low, strained. “This is a mistake, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” I leaned in, my voice a whisper. “Then why the hell do you keep looking?”

He stared at me for another long second. His hand twitched at his side, like he wanted to do something. But he didn’t. Instead, he took a step back, running a hand through his messy hair.

I didn’t want to make him too uncomfortable, but I knew he was already on edge. The tension was palpable, thick enough to choke on. And then, before I could say anything more, he glanced down at me, really looked and let out a half-laugh. “You’ve got a fatter ass than Paige,” he said, shaking his head as though he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “Just saying. No homo.”

And then he walked off, back to his room, leaving me standing there, feeling every inch of that comment linger in the air.

The door slammed behind him.
And I was left with a smirk, my heart racing.
I had him.
.............................

Coming Up Next: He Keeps Staring At My Ass

All 10 parts of this story are already available on my Patreon. Check it out if you want to read everything before it drops here.

She was a QUEEN, all caps, no question. You could tell maybe some great-granddaddy way back was white, just enough to soften her features, give her that edge of mystery. She was big—not fat, but built—curves for days, tits and ass that demanded attention. Ebony skin, tight and smooth, like she was carved from midnight itself. Not just dark, but deep—like a moonless night. A stunner, jet-black and gorgeous.

She was proud, unapologetic, with a laugh that lit up the room and a lust that spilled over like a river breaking its banks. Her sexuality was as natural as breathing, as straightforward as drinking water when you’re parched. That’s how she picked her lovers—no fuss, no games, just pure want. But she was too much woman for most. Too much fire for their weak sparks, too much meat for their half-starved dogs. Men thought they could handle her, but she left them drained, panting, and still she was unsatisfied, always craving more.

She devoured men, chewed them up in marathon sessions of raw, untamed sex that went beyond their wildest fantasies. They came in cocky, thinking they were the ones in charge, only to drown in her curves, her hunger, her sheer force. She’d beg, demand, curse, and taunt, pushing them to give her what she needed, but no matter how many times she came, no man could tame her. No dick was enough to fill that void, to match her ferocity.

So, it was only in her private moments, those long, sweaty nights alone, that she truly let loose. She’d fuck herself senseless with massive dildos, no hole off-limits—mouth, pussy, ass, all fair game. She’d grind against her own hand, working that swollen, pink clit, blooming like some exotic flower between the deep darkness of her thighs. That clit, big as a chickpea, got harder the rougher she treated it, throbbing under her relentless touch. Soaked in her own juices, she’d slam a thick rubber cock deep inside, ramming it until it hit her cervix, and still she’d push harder, craving that edge of pain and pleasure. Meanwhile, a buzzing vibe in her ass sent shockwaves through the thin wall separating her holes, doubling the heat.

She’d suck another dildo, anatomically perfect and fucking massive, dreaming it was the real deal—a thick, pulsing cock feeding her streams of hot cum. She’d pull it from her lips only to scream, to let loose a string of filthy curses that turned her on even more, her voice hoarse with need. She’d lose track of time, hours slipping away as she chased that high. A water bottle stayed close—she’d sweat buckets, her dark skin glistening like she’d just stepped out of a steam bath. Her juices flowed like a damn waterfall, soaking everything. Sometimes she’d squirt, sometimes she’d piss from the sheer intensity, and she didn’t give a fuck. She wasn’t stopping until she was spent.

When it was over, she’d collapse, catching her breath, the floor a mess of her essence. She’d mop it up later, no shame, just practicality. Exhausted, she’d drift off naked, still sticky, reeking of raw, primal woman. Her dreams were of the man she could never find—a real one, a beast who could match her, fuck her into submission, make her his. She’d be his lover, his slut, proud as hell of it. A man with a cock to match her hunger, a king to her queen. But that man, that stud, never showed up.

Jason and Mike have been best friends since childhood, their bond growing stronger with each passing year. Jason, the star quarterback of their high school football team, is the epitome of a jock—muscular but slim, athletic, and confident, always the center of attention. Mike, on the other hand, is more reserved, preferring the quiet of the library to the roar of the crowd. Despite their differences, their friendship is the thing they are known for.

One lazy Saturday afternoon, Jason invites Mike over to his house. "I need help with something," Jason says, a mischievous glint in his eye. "I've got a big game coming up, and I need to make sure my feet are in top condition."

Mike raises an eyebrow. "Your feet? What do you need help with?"

Jason grins. "I need a foot massage. Coach said it'll help with my performance. You're the only one I trust to touch my feet."

Mike hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

They settle in the living room, Jason reclining on the couch while Mike sits on the floor in front of him. Jason kicks off his sneakers, revealing his feet still clad in socks. Mike takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in his stomach. He reaches out, gently taking Jason’s sock-covered foot in his hands and begins to massage through the fabric.

As Mike massages, Jason lets out a contented sigh. "That feels good, man. You've got a real talent for this."

Mike smiles, his fingers working the tension out of Jason's muscles through the thin layer of sock. He can't help but notice how soft and smooth Jason's feet feel, even through the fabric. He finds himself lingering a little longer than necessary, tracing the lines of Jason's arches and toes, wishing he could feel them directly.

"Mike, that feels so good," Jason moans, his eyes fluttering closed. "But maybe it would feel even better if I took these socks off?"

Encouraged by this new feeling, Mike nods. "Go ahead, take them off," Jason says. “I’ll return the favor if I need to!”

“To prep me for what? My next book I read?” Both Mike and Jason laugh a bit before Jason lifts his feet, allowing Mike to slowly peel off each sock, revealing his bare feet. Mike takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in his stomach and in his pants. What is happening? He thinks.

He reaches out, gently taking Jason's bare foot in his hands.

As Mike begins to massage, Jason lets out a contented sigh. "That feels amazing, man. You've got a real talent for this."

Mike smiles, his fingers working the tension out of Jason's muscles. He can't help but notice how soft and smooth Jason's feet are, despite him running around all day at practice. His feet are well-groomed, with no callouses, and the balls of his toes are plump and full. He finds himself lingering a little longer than necessary, tracing the lines of Jason's arches and toes.

With how soft they look, Mike wonders how they taste. He couldn’t possibly make that happen. The amount of embarrassment he’d feel from his best friend. He’d never forgive him.

Jason seems to be in heaven, possibly slowly drifting to sleep. Mike thinks, maybe just a kiss. Quick and gentle. Mike leans into his big toe, seeing how defined and soft they are. Jason can surely feel Jason’s breath on his toe, warm and filled with lust. He checks Jason’s face before pressing his lips against his toe. It is as perfect as he’d thought. Jason doesn’t move.

Mike maneuvers himself to gently kiss each toe, making Jason shiver with pleasure as he stretches his toes at the touch of being tickled.

Mike checks Jason’s face. Eyes still closed but clearly awake. Mike feels encouraged to keep going, kissing his toes and the balls of his feet. His soles are perfect.

"Mike, that feels so good," Jason moans, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're amazing at this." Jason is initially caught off guard but loves the recognition.

Encouraged, Mike continues his ministrations, taking his time to investigate every inch of Jason's feet. He massages the soles, pressing firmly but gently, eliciting soft moans from Jason. He then moves to the arches, using his thumbs to apply pressure, feeling Jason's feet relax completely under his touch. Mike contemplates taking one of Jason's toes into his mouth again, but he holds back, thinking that might be too much. He returns to placing small, tentative kisses on each toe, gauging Jason's reaction.

Jason lets out a soft gasp as the kisses are harder, firmer, but doesn't pull away, so Mike continues, this time taking one of Jason’s toes fully into his mouth, sucking gently. He feels Jason's body respond with a shudder, and a soft moan escapes Jason's lips.

"Mike, that's... that's incredible," Jason whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

Mike continues to suck and lick each toe, taking his time, ensuring that Jason is enjoying every moment. He looks up at Jason, seeing the pure pleasure on his face, and it spurs him on. He takes more of Jason's foot into his mouth, sucking and licking, worshipping every inch.

Jason's breathing grows deeper, and he closes his eyes, completely relaxed and lost in the sensation. Mike's hands and mouth work in unison, exploring every curve and line of Jason's feet. He takes his time, savoring the taste and texture, feeling Jason's pleasure build with each touch.

As Mike continues his worship, Jason's body begins to respond in new ways. His hips lift slightly off the couch, and his breathing becomes more ragged. Mike can feel the tension building in Jason's body, and he knows that he is bringing his friend to new heights of pleasure. Mike looks at Jason’s crotch, tented up by an enormous erection with a large clear wet spot. Mike is shocked, knowing Jason hasn’t used his hands at all.

Finally, with a shudder and a low moan, Jason reaches his peak, his body trembling with release. Mike continues to hold and caress Jason's feet, gently bringing him back down from the high.

Jason opens his eyes, looking at Mike with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Mike, that was... incredible. I've never felt anything like that before."

Mike smiles, his own heart racing with the intensity of the moment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Jason. I wanted to make sure you felt good."

Jason sits up, his feet still in Mike's lap. "You did more than that, Mike. You made me feel things I never knew were possible."

"Only cause coach asked," Mike jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Jason chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, right. I think it had more to do with your magical touch than any coach's orders."

"Only cause coach asked," Mike jokes again, trying to lighten the mood.

Jason chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah… right. Coach knows best.”

So, here's a story I posted on Nifty, but I want to branch out and post in other locations. The 20000 character limit is a little low for me, but I'll try posting what I can here! Feel free to DM, email, tweet, or bluesky me. All posts, pics, whatever are welcome. If it goes well here, maybe I'll try to write something exclusive for LPSG!
Email ash.hunter2021@shaw.ca
Twitter @hunter_writing
Bluesky @hunterwriting.bsky.social

----------

My name is Jordan. I’ve always wanted to share this story, but never got around to it. This is my go-to story whenever someone asks me “What’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done?” or “Ever tried it in public?” or anything else of that nature. I’ve probably changed the names for privacy reasons, though to be honest the finer details of the situation have just evaded me after so long. But anyways, this is the story of first public hook up in university.

*****

Back in early 2010s, hookup culture was largely restricted to only sites and forums, smartphones and apps hadn’t taken hold yet, so we were at the mercy of sites like Manhunt and Squirt. And I used them. I’ve never been the hottest guy in the world, but I’ve always done well for myself. At the time I was fairly slim, brunette, hazel eyes, and I supposed a cute smile. My main draw was that I was pretty common twink, but I have a nice dick, over 6 feet tall, and I’m a top, which was apparently an uncommon combo that netted me attention and some great hook ups.

One of these guys was named Evan. Evan was a fashionista type gay, and was a brunette and even taller than me, somewhere around 6’5”. We talked for a long time, but finally he convinced me to try hooking up in a well-known cruising spot at my university. It was in the old law building, in the basement. It took a lot of coaxing to convince me, but he was pretty hot and promised we wouldn’t get caught and I caved. One evening when the building and campus were largely deserted, we met up in the basement.

There was one student at her locker, just getting dressed to leave, so Evan and I nodded acknowledgment to each other and then I went in first, just so the chick wouldn’t notice. The handicapped stall was closed, so I took the nearest to it, leaving 3 others empty between us and the 4 urinals, and texted him which one I was in. After a couple minutes, he came in and slipped into the stall with me. He leaned down to kiss me, and his hands were already at the front of my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping. I was already rock hard, and my cock shot out the moment the zipper was down. He gave a throaty chuckle and then start kissing my neck. It was a little chilly in the bathroom, and his breath was so warm. It sent shivers down my spine.

As he was kissing my neck, his soft hands took my throbbing cock, and he started slowing jerking it. I was in ecstasy. Or I thought I was, but he elevated it. He started soft biting my neck, barely more force than the kisses, as he started jacking me harder. I’ve always been a precummer, but fuck, I was dripping thick ropes of precum from my piss slit all the way to the floor. He used his thumb and my own precum to start rubbing my cockhead. I’m circumcised, and some people say that that means I have less sensations down there, but if I had any more nerves, I would have been crying at his touch.

Right as he got me into a fever pitch, and I was about to just force his pretty boy face onto my cock, the bathroom door opened, and we froze. His hand still on my cock, his thumb on my piss slit, and he put his other finger to his lips in the shushing motion, which wouldn’t have been an issue, since I don’t think I was even breathing at that point. We listened as the footsteps went to the sink, some water ran, and then the new guy went right into the stall beside us. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I had panicking adrenaline rushing through my veins. The guy beside us coughed and then send “Hello?”

Let me tell you, I have never moved so fast in my life. I was out the stall and out of the bathroom almost before I had my dick back and my pants closed, and I was out the bathroom, down the hall and around the corner before I could even breathe. Luckily no one was in the building, and I stopped at the water fountain to catch my breath and get a drink. My cock was still fully erect and pushing painfully against my jeans, I could clearly see a wet spot from all the precum, though my shirt hung low enough to hide that. However, I was calming down and about to ditch when my phone vibrated, I had a text from Evan.

It’s fine, come back, it’s safe.

I stared at the message for a full minute before I moved. My dick was painful in my pants, the echoes of his lips and teeth on my neck still lingered, and to be honest, I was the personification of “young, dumb, and full of cum.” I took a bunch of deep breaths, another swig of water for the dry mouth I had and went back to the bathroom. As soon as I made it halfway to the stalls, Evan came out. His button up shirt open and dick hanging out of his pants, and I froze again taking it all in. He walked up to me, gave be an amused look (I can only imagine I looked like a deer in the headlights, and he dropped to his knees. No preamble, or anything, he just was on his knees, had my cock out, and had it down his throat right there in the middle of the bathroom before I could even register what was happening.

He had his hands on my hips and his throat was like a steel vice, I couldn’t move if I wanted to. Which I didn’t because that throat was like nothing I’d even had before. He was the first guy I’d ever been with that actually didn’t have a gag reflex. I let out a moan and wrapped my fingers into his hair and held my cock balls deep for what felt like an hour until I pulled off so he could get some air, and then he went right down again, his nose jammed into my pubes.

As I moaned again, his grip tightened, and the stall beside where we were opened, and out walked this random Filipino guy. He walked over to us, and got down onto his knees beside Evan, and they started making out on my dick. I could feel their lips and tongues, and even flashes of teeth graze my cock. They I moved one hand from Evan and grabbed a fistful of the Filipino’s black, curly hair, and used them both to stabilization myself; their dueling tongue on my dick were making my knees shake.

I used my fistful of their hair to alternate ramming my rod down their throats. First Evan, taking it all like it was breathing, then the Pinoy guy, where he started choking halfway down, then back to Evan, while I forced my new Pinoy plaything to my balls to lick and suck the sweat off them while I tried the choke Evan. I looked down and saw that they were jacking each other off, too.

After a few moments, the Filipino guy stood up, just barely making it to my shoulder, and forced his cock into Evan’s throat, jacking me off, and rubbing my nipples with his face and mouth through my shirt. I pulled Evan off the Filipino’s dick and forced our cocks, alternating with each thrust, into his mouth. His face was getting wet with slobber and precum, and some tears streaking his face, but he didn’t stop. If I was too slow, he’d grab our asses and pull our cocks deeper into his throat.

After what was probably a solid quarter hour, I felt my balls start to tighten and my cock start to throb. I was close. I grabbed the Pinoy by the hair and forced him back to his knee and held them on either side of my shaft, using their mouths a fuck toy while pumping between them. My knees started getting weak and I could barely get out the words: “Fuck, I’m going to cum.”

Evan shoved the Filipino guy back, and wrapped his lips around my cockhead, working his tongue on the head and piss slit. I lost it. I started cumming. At least 4 shots on his tongue before it was too much, and I pulled back, getting my last couple shots on his face and chest. I tried to step back, but suddenly, the Filipino gut was beside me and also start shooting on Evan’s open mouth, face, and chest. I almost slipped getting out of the way; Evan had shot a load even bigger than mine across the bathroom floor. Thick, white, hot streams of cum covered the floor and Evan. After I squeezed out the last couple drops, I zipped up my pants and left them.

I never saw the Filipino guy again. But the day after the bathroom, one of the cruising forums on Squirt had a post on it.

This is for the two guys from the other day. Fuck that was hot. I’ll need a day or two to rest my throat but let me know if you’re ever heading back there. This is the Asian guy.

I meant to reply, but I never got around to it. I got some messages from Evan after that. I even ended up breeding him in a different bathroom on campus a few weeks later. He was a world class whore, and damn good at it. Sometimes I miss those holes.

*****

Anyways, there’s my story. Names and location were changed and vague for the privacy of those involved, but Evan, Filipino Guy, if you ever stumble across this, recognize the story, and want to go another round. Shoot me an email. I’ve learned some new tricks.

Night Drive​

Part 1: Transformation​

“How do u feel knowing ur such a slut ur driving an hour to take fat cock?”

My hands tightened on the steering wheel as Daniel’s message lit up my phone. Part of me still couldn’t believe I was actually going through with it.

My heart fluttered. I looked over at my bag in the passenger seat. Inside was everything I’d need for the night: a wig, some makeup, and black lacy lingerie, just like Daniel had asked for. That night, I wasn’t simply driving an hour to get fucked—I was venturing into my first sexual encounter as a crossdresser.

About a minute passed before I managed to text Daniel back.

“I absolutely love it.”


When I pulled into the motel’s parking lot, the night sky was thick and silent, except for the faint rush of freeway traffic somewhere out past the streetlights. The parking lot was mostly empty, which brought a slight sense of relief to my ever-growing mix of nerves and excitement.

“I’m here,” I texted Daniel. “I’m about to check in.”

Yes, I really was here. An hour away from home, in the parking lot of a cheap motel, all for a man I only knew through pictures and videos. Daniel had actually wanted to fuck me in my car, but I insisted on getting a room. I wanted privacy—the space to transform myself, to greet Daniel in a wig, makeup, and black lace. And I wanted to finally see him in all his glory, especially that big, beautiful cock, which I’d been obsessed with for months.


I first messaged Daniel on Grindr not long after I’d figured out how to use filters to sort profiles. One slow morning at work, my grid was full of young tops when I came across his profile—almost by chance, since he didn’t have a picture. What caught my eye was his profile text: Daniel was hung (he claimed his dick was a thick 7.5 inches), and he was into fucking women, femboys, and crossdressers. I wasn’t any of those things, but his preferences felt like a reflection of the kind of man I’d always secretly desired. So I messaged him and sent a picture I’d taken of my ass in the shower.

He replied a few minutes later, sending a picture of his cock. And I just stared at my phone, breathless, yearning, spellbound—unable to look away. Despite its thickness and length, his cock stood straight out, almost perfectly horizontal except for a slight curve. The head was plump, and the skin of his uncut cock was pulled back, gathering firmly at the base of the head. His balls hung low and heavy. All of it—adorned by a tangle of pubic hair I could almost smell through the phone.

Then his next message appeared on my screen: “U fem?”

“No,” I replied, “but I love to be submissive.”

***

Checking in was about as uneventful as I could have hoped. No “What brings you into town?” or other small talk. I figured the staff at these motels are probably used to seeing middle-aged men checking in late at night by themselves. Still, I wondered how many of those men come here not to fuck, but to be fucked. In lingerie.

I quickly walked up a set of concrete steps to the second floor and made my way down a narrow walkway to my room, which overlooked the parking lot. The room, which I’d booked less than an hour earlier, was a double: two queen-size beds with white comforters, burgundy carpeting, and a large, well-lit bathroom.

As I unpacked my things, my phone lit up with a new message from Daniel.

“Let me know when ur ready.”

***

I had crossdressed for Daniel before, but only through Snapchat. During our first exchange on Grindr, after he’d made it clear he was exclusively into femininity, he told me he might be down to fuck me—but only if I wore a wig, makeup, and lingerie. The idea had never really crossed my mind, so I was surprised by how instantly and intensely I was turned on by the thought of giving up my masculinity for the pleasure of a younger, more virile man.

Daniel was a construction worker, in town temporarily for a job. I couldn’t let go of him—or the potential thrill of dressing up for him and getting to see his perfect cock in person—so we added each other on Snapchat. Soon, we were regularly sending each other pictures and videos: his cock, my ass.

It took a few weeks before I built up the courage to order my first pair of panties—a red lace thong, skimpy and delicate, that hugged me in a way nothing else ever had. And Daniel went wild for it. It wasn’t long before I had a hidden stash of thongs in different colors, which I’d secretly slip into—at first only for Daniel, but eventually for other men who, like him, took pleasure in emasculating and dominating lesser men.

***

I stood in front of the bathroom vanity, the harsh white light buzzing overhead. My hands trembled a little as I fitted the wig onto my head, feeling the tight grip of the adjustable straps settle just above my ears. Wavy brown hair spilled to my shoulders, the center part falling forward to frame my face, hiding just enough. I barely recognized myself.

It had taken me months to buy this wig. Every step, every little purchase felt like a deeper surrender of my manhood—an offering to Daniel, to a version of myself I was only now becoming.

I glanced down at my body: sheer black pantyhose hugged my legs, a subtle floral pattern winding high across my thighs. The lace thong was a constant reminder, the back riding snug between my cheeks, the front holding my helpless bulge in a soft prison of mesh and lace. My black blouse fit snugly, stretching just enough over my chest, cut square across the bust.

My makeup was shaky, but serviceable. Red lipstick, too bold and a little uneven; foundation that barely hid the shadow of my jaw. A touch of blush, mascara, and eyeliner—enough to blur the line between who I was and who I wanted to be.

I picked up my phone and typed with trembling fingers:

“I’m ready.”

The words lingered on the screen. Then, three little dots appeared—Daniel was already typing.

“Omw.”

Part 1

Shawn didn’t post anything on Instagram the day he landed in Queensland. No wellness retreat snaps, no ocean views, no cryptic captions. For once, he wanted the silence. The kind that didn’t ask anything of him.

He slid into the backseat of the inconspicuous rental Robert had sent. No driver, no entourage. Just Robert himself at the wheel — baseball cap low, a faint tan line across his forehead, and that same easy, offbeat smile that had made their voice messages stretch too long into the night for weeks now.

“Still remember how to drive on the left?” Shawn asked, tossing his bag in the back.

Robert gave a dry laugh. “Mate, I’m letting you off the hook. You don’t have to try to be local.”

Shawn smirked, then looked out the window. They drove in relative quiet — nothing awkward, just familiar in a strange way. A few inside jokes. Robert’s playlist. Long stretches of road framed by pale trees, and suburbs that thinned out without ceremony.

The house wasn’t some wilderness hideaway. Just a low-built, modern place a bit inland, mostly glass and shadow, tucked behind a narrow street of quiet driveways and climbing bougainvillea. The kind of house that didn’t scream celebrity, but also didn’t apologize for being curated.

Shawn stepped into the entryway, toeing off his sneakers.

“Smells like tea and something green,” he said, sniffing.

“Eucalyptus diffuser,” Robert replied, tossing keys into a bowl. “You’re not the only one who dabbles in ‘wellness.’”

They both laughed — a little too long — then Shawn wandered into the open-plan kitchen, running his fingers along the cool bench top, grounding himself. Making himself at home.

***

That evening, they made dinner together. Simple. Pasta, a chopped salad, a few lazy sips of wine. There wasn’t pressure to talk, but they kept doing it anyway — the way people do when they’re both a little nervous about what the silence might say instead.

“So you’ve got like, actual free time?” Robert asked as he rinsed tomatoes, passing one to Shawn without looking at him.

Shawn shrugged. “For a minute. Everyone thinks I’m in Byron doing yoga and healing my chakras or whatever.”

Robert smiled, not mocking. “You’re healing them here, with tomatoes and awkward eye contact?”

Shawn smirked, chewing. “Apparently.”

They fell into a kind of rhythm, as Shawn got settled and spend these days at the house. Mornings over coffee and mismatched mugs. Afternoons in the pool. Evenings watching movies they never finished because they kept talking over them — not deeply, but stupid things. Childhood stories. Weird fans. The worst headlines they’d read about themselves.

Once, Robert found one of Shawn’s old music videos and put it on the TV, just to mess with him. Shawn groaned and hid under a throw pillow.

“You were something, dude.”

“I was twenty-one and possessed,” Shawn muttered.

But he was smiling under the pillow.

***

Time was non-existent, as the days continues. It was in the way their knees sometimes touched when they sat too close on the couch. Or the way they stood just a beat too long next to each other in the kitchen. How Robert started asking Shawn for help with the espresso machine he clearly already knew how to use.

There was one night — the fourth or fifth — when they stayed up too late talking outside. A storm was humming in the distance, but it hadn’t broken yet. The sky was heavy. Shawn was barefoot, wearing Robert’s hoodie without asking.

“Do you ever think about how weird it is,” Robert said suddenly, “to be this… known, and still feel like no one actually knows you?”

Shawn looked over, the expression in his eyes unreadable. He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “Yeah. All the time.”

A long pause.

Robert turned to face him properly. “Do you ever get scared you’ll forget how to just be a person?”

Shawn gave a quiet laugh, a little breathless. “Yeah. I guess that’s why I came here.”

They both went still.

Something shifted — small but noticeable. Like they’d stumbled into something fragile and true without meaning to.

Robert glanced away first.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

Shawn shook his head. “No, no. It helps to talk.”

Neither of them moved.

Then Robert said, very softly, “You can keep the hoodie, by the way.”

Shawn’s smile broke, a little crooked. “I was gonna pretend I packed it by mistake.”

* end of Part 1 *

All comments are appreciated and/or you can email me directly for story requests aklbrowneroman@gmail.com

This story is about my best friend from university - we met up after graduating years ago and had an interesting sexual encounter. Interesting purely because I always knew him to be straight, but a bit of alcohol was about to change that. This story is real, but I have taken the liberty to write creatively; however, it remains 80% factual.

College Catchup - Part 1

In the chilly embrace of the winter air, I found myself waiting outside a restaurant, anticipating Josh's arrival for our food and pub crawl. Josh and I had crossed paths at university, gradually forging a friendship through shared classes. I, the somewhat reserved 6-foot-tall gay otter, and he, the epitome of straight alternative. Although the only thing we shared was height, his presence exuded a captivating charm—his jawline sharp as a blade; blonde locks cascading in effortless waves, and so many people admired him. He was built like a strong rugby player with a huge chest. Though I harboured a subtle admiration for him, his heterosexuality and revolving door of relationships kept our connection platonic. Although on drunken nights, I always managed a sneak at him at the urinals, and I knew he was packing some heat for sure.

During our university years, Josh relocated to study closer to home - a two-hour flight away from where we met, limiting our encounters to sporadic visits. The last time we met, he introduced me to his then-girlfriend, a fleeting liaison that had since dissolved. It was this recent breakup that prompted his visit, opting to spend time within our city instead of seeking a refund for their planned ski trip. I suggested a night out when he made his way up, a chance to distract him from his troubles with a lively pub crawl around the city.

“Roman!" Josh voiced, soft as butter, cut through the brisk air from across the street. A grin spread across my face as I welcomed him with open arms. "Great to see you, man! How was the flight?" I inquired as we retreated from our embrace. “Yeah not bad man, but fuck it’s freezing” his breath forming fleeting clouds in the cold. I chuckled and led him into the warmth of the restaurant. As we sat down, I got to see his gorgeous face in the dim lighting. I couldn't help but admire his features—still had that stunning model look with a hint of stubble, and those piercing blue eyes.

We spent the night chatting and catching up over bottles of wine, some shots that we couldn’t handle, and Josh sneakedly ordered a cocktail for me because he knew I loved fruity things. We spoke about university memories we had, and I asked about his ex-girlfriend, which he was open about, and it didn’t dampen the mood. As the night went on, we decided to talk more personally while the odd rude joke about me sucking dick would pop up. Then, the drunken porn conversations popped up - I opened it up easily “what kind of porn categories do you watch? I feel like you’re an anime kind of guy”. Josh scrunched his face up “fuck no man, I’m into the girl-on-girl action or like dominating girls you know?”. We typically made sexual jokes all the time, even during our days at university, but we hadn’t spoken much about what we did to get off. Josh joked a fair bit about how he guessed I was into some kinky stuff, which I agreed with. Nothing too crazy, but I had retold a story of me being tied up to a chair, with nothing on but a eye mask, while some crazed bottom edged my cock and made me sniff poppers until I shot a fat load in his mouth. Josh chuckled as I told the story, and I guessed the wine made it sound funnier than it was.

We paid the bill and moved over to another bar, stumbling in but still managed to order a bottle. I was getting peckish and decided to order us some desserts – the place was fancy, and we had only popped in while they were closing. We kept chatting - drunk off our faces, until Josh said something that I’ve never heard him ever say before: “You know, I told er Liv, that um if I was ever to go gay, I’d do you and you only”. My ears perked, but I was so confused by the sentence that had just come out of his mouth nonchalantly that I completely missed it and jokingly said “Yeah, hahaha man I would too dude”. I looked into his eyes and felt a sense of awkwardness on my end. The moment was over in a second, and I thought nothing of it.

We decided the night was over, and we started to walk to his hotel. Josh was only in town for a couple of nights and decided to get a local place to stay. I was too drunk to drive home and left the car back at work, so he invited me to crash on the couch so I could sober up. When we walked into the apartment, Josh immediately pushed past me to get to the bathroom and shut the door. As I went to have a glass of water, I could hear muffled sounds of him throwing up - what a tosser, can’t even handle his alcohol. I heard the shower running and decided that was my chance to change into some comfortable clothes – I had been carrying my gym bag and managed to somehow keep it close to me the entire night despite being shit-faced. As I got changed, I heard the shower water stop running, and a few minutes later, Josh emerged wet with nothing but a towel around his waist.

I tried not to look over at his body, but it was stunning. Josh was built strong with massive muscles all over and but had no body hair except for his blonde pubes creeping up to his belly button. I had worked out a bit and was beefier, but he was a whole different breed. He went into the room, stumbling and shut the bedroom door to get changed. A few minutes passed, and I tried getting comfortable on the two-seater couch, but my legs were jammed in – being tall and hotel room couches - this wasn’t going to work, but I had to since he had taken the bed. As I was settling in, the bedroom door opened and Josh poked his head out – “Dude, you can come in here if you want – this bed is huge”.

I got up off the couch and stumbled into the room to see Josh under the covers, shirtless. I moved over to the side and started to take off my clothes to nestle in next to him. As I got comfortable, he switched off the lights, and we started to doze off to the sounds of the city seeping through the window of the room. What felt like a few minutes passed, and I felt some tossing on Josh’s side of the bed, which caused me to turn around and face him in bed.


Suddenly, I felt Josh leaning in closer to my face. My eyes were still shut, but I could sense his breath inching toward me, and my mind started to spiral. Is this happening? Is Josh trying to cuddle up to me? My heart pounded as his knee brushed gently against mine. A thousand thoughts raced through my head: This would be so weird if he kissed me right now. I mean—Josh? That would be insane. He’s straight. He would never even think about doing something like that. I’m just making this all up in my hea—

And then his lips were on mine.

In high school, I was the lonely closeted queer, the quiet outsider. I joined the swim team in my sophomore year to appease my father and a fascist PE teacher, who found that I was a good sprinter after staging an impromptu swim tryout. The only thing I liked about swimming was seeing the developing bodies and young cocks of my teammates and competitors. However, if any of them were gay, they either kept it to themselves, as I did, or hid it beneath a façade of youthful sexual bravado.

To relieve my feeling of estrangement, I would often drop in on the nearby State University campus during my lunch hour often thinking my final last three years of high school could not be over fast enough. Although I didn't know anybody on the college campus, I was more comfortable in the university surroundings than among my high school classmates, who were largely preoccupied with sports or their hormonal urges for the opposite sex. I liked sports well enough, but I didn't engage in the banter about girls. I suspected that most of the stories were bullshit anyway. There were a few girls who hung around the team, providing some with opportunities for real, exaggerated or imagined sexual dalliances. Because of my aloof demeanor and athleticism, nobody suspected my sexual orientation. I was perceived as the strong silent type who was shy with girls. That's what I thought anyway. I certainly didn't exhibit any femmy gay boy mannerisms which could get me thrown out of the house or shunned by the team.

I did pop a boner in the shower once, after seeing one of the hunkier seniors rubbing his cock to an erection. Somebody shouted, "Hey, Rolf are ya gonna jack off in the shower?"

"I got something for you right here, faggot," was Rolf's reply. He began to pump his thick cock to full erection, shamelessly masturbating in the communal shower. As an upperclassman and overall BMOC, Rolf's sexuality was never in doubt. My teammates worshipped his aura of confidence and his popularity with girls, I thought he had the face and intellect of a Neanderthal, the body of Apollo and he carried heavy lumber between his legs.

The shower room broke out into a spontaneous circle jerk with several teammates jacking off in the shower. The sight of all those stiff, young cocks being jerked off in unison was the most erotic memory of my first fifteen years on earth -- my mind still drifts back to that moment when I masturbate. I joined in the cock pumping fest and fired several blasts almost half the length of the shower, earning new respect for my length and distance. Little did they realize how charged I was by their dick pumping. We left the shower looking pretty pruney and the coach muttering about taking too long.

Sean was just sitting on a couch at the Gay and Lesbian Center reading a magazine when worked up the nerve to pop in for a look. I did it out of curiosity and a longing to make contact with my kind. My gaze was met by his twinkling blue eyes and easy smile and a friendly "Hello". Sean was a sophomore psychology major from Wisconsin. His blue eyes and blond hair hinted at his Norwegian roots. Tall and slim with high cheekbones, he was handsome but not what I would consider hunky. I introduced myself and told him that I was a local high school student. After chatting with Sean and a few others at the LGBTQ center, I felt quite at ease and began spending more lunch hours on the university campus. I was particularly fond of the erotic male literature at the center and the college library as it was fuel for my nocturnal masturbation fantasies about making love to another man.

Sean was always glad to see me and we became close friends. Despite the four year difference in our ages, it seemed that we had much in common. He didn't seem particularly athletic, but he told me that he was a pretty strong swimmer. When he invited me to the college pool to swim laps with him after school, I quickly accepted.

Sean was slightly taller than me at the time but thinner. While he was a good swimmer, he was not in my class as a sprinter. He swam laps in the early evenings to relieve stress and to work out. After our late afternoon swims, I would often follow him to his apartment where we would talk, have a beer or smoke a joint. Sometimes, all of the above. After one particularly late swimming session, we went to his apartment. I told him that I scored some good grass. He was pleased and picked up a pizza on the way to his apartment. We devoured the pizza and washed it down with Michelob. I pulled out a Ziploc baggie with four joints. We began to smoke the joints one after another while talking discussing openly gay celebrities and politicians. I passed the last bud to Sean, who took a long last drag from it. "Well, that's the last of the weed," I said.

"Another beer, Scotty?"

"No thanks, I gotta piss like a racehorse," I said as I pushed off Sean's knee to get off the couch and go to the bathroom. I felt like I just pissed half a gallon of beer because it seemed to take fifteen minutes to empty my bladder. Over my shoulder, I noticed that Sean was watching me relieve myself.

"About time," Sean said as I shook off my penis and flushed the toilet. We passed each other awkwardly through the doorway avoiding contact. I plopped down on Sean's couch and watched the ceiling slowly spin around then heard the toilet flush. I was starting to get an erection and had to adjust my inflating cock to relieve the pressure under my jeans. I looked up and saw Sean eyeing me as I was pulling my hand from my bulging groin.

"So you wanna watch some TV?" he asked sliding next to me.

"How about some music instead."

Sean got up and turned on his stereo. I heard the Beatles' "Come together" begin to play. The combination of the hypnotic beat, the alcohol, and the marijuana was making me lightheaded. I barely noticed when Sean seated himself next to me, but I could feel the heat from his slender body. He was now wearing a plain white T-shirt and shorts and I could feel the warmth of his thigh through the heavy denim of my Levi's. Sean seemed to get up, but he leaned into me and turned toward me. As our lips met, Sean rested most of his weight on me and slipped his tongue into my mouth. He began exploring my teeth and tongue. His thin blonde mustache tickled my cheek and my left hand reached under his T-shirt to rub his chest and back.

With his left hand, he pulled out my shirttails, while his right hand fumbled with my belt. My excitement heightened when I felt the hardness in his loins against my thigh. Finally, he worked loose my belt and I helped him with the zipper and the top button of my jeans. Electricity coursed through me when Sean grasped my penis, the first time anybody else had touched my erect cock. As he stroked me, I felt my pulse pounding through my temples and my cock, and especially my chest. Our breathing became deep and heavy. I lifted my butt off the sofa so Sean could pull my pants and jockeys down to my ankles. I kicked off my shoes, socks, pants, and shorts, as Sean helped me with my shirt and undershirt. I was now naked on Sean's couch and passionately embracing him. Sean quickly pulled off his T-shirt and shorts, revealing his almost hairless chest and the sharply pointed shoulders of his tall sensuous frame. Also, his rigid manhood, which like Sean, was slender and pale except for the swollen pinkish, purplish head.

We kissed again with each other's cock in hand. I let out a low moan as his hand tickled and caressed my very sensitive testicles, and he started kissing my neck then my chest and sucking on my erect nipples. Sean worked his way down my chest and abdomen while stroking and caressing my male hardness and my testicles. My breathing deepened as I felt his tongue on the underside of my cock head, and my thoughts raced as the hot wetness of his mouth enclosed the head of my penis. My body reflexively arched back in ecstasy, as Sean's skilled tongue swirled around my manhood. Sean then began licking my shaft and low hangers. He took each testicle in his mouth and began working them with his tongue. I started rubbing and pinching my nipples, as I looked down at the erotic sight of Sean engulfing my testicles with his mouth and stroking my straining cock.

With his face buried in my crotch, Sean looked like he'd sprouted a bushy mustache of teen-aged pubic hair and had an upward-pointing meaty arm appended to the tip of his nose. He stopped kneading my balls with his tongue and resumed licking my shaft from tip to testicles. Then Sean took my cock in that hot mouth and started working over the head with his tongue while still stroking the base of my cock. My grunting and moaning became louder and I started to buck my hips when he stopped and told me not to cum yet. He then drew in more and more of my cock into his mouth until I could feel his lips at the base of my cock. He bobbed his head up and down taking the entire length of my cock and finishing with a swirl at the tip. After a few strokes, my breathing became forced, shallow gasps of fire; my face flushed; every muscle tensed and tightly bundled. I ejaculated on the next half dozen downward head bobs. I had discovered masturbation less than two years ago but nothing in my auto-erotic experience matched this explosive orgasm, my first sexual experience. This was more than just another undercover wank or impromptu shower room circle jerk.

Sean lapped up the semen that leaked from the corners of his mouth and milked the last drop of me from my subsiding erection. He finished cleaning me, got off his knees and kissed me. I could smell and taste my slippery saltiness on his lips as it flowed from his mouth and I felt him grind his inflamed manhood against my flaccid member. The mix of our saliva and my male seed tasted and smelled and felt great as we twirled it between our tongues. My turn.

Chapter 1: Learning the Routine

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

I shoved my suitcase through the dorm room door, shoulders tight with nerves. My heart was beating a little too fast, like it always did before something new. Inside, sunlight slanted across the bare floorboards, one side of the room neat and empty, the other already claimed.

Gym bags piled under the bed, a pair of sneakers tossed haphazardly under the desk, a sweatshirt draped over the back of the chair.

Before I could set my bag down, the bathroom door swung open.

“Hey! You must be Eli.”

A tall guy stepped out, toweling off his damp blond hair, lean muscles shifting under a loose T-shirt and gym shorts. He grinned as he crossed the room, sticking out a hand.

“I’m Mason. Roommate. We’re both on the team, right?”

“Yeah — Eli,” I said quickly, shaking his hand. His grip was firm, friendly.

“Nice,” Mason said, dropping onto his bed. “First year?”

I nodded, feeling the knot in my chest ease just a little. Mason had that kind of easy, laid-back energy, not overt or intense, just open, like the kind of guy who made friends in five minutes without trying.

“Same here,” he added, tossing the towel onto his chair. “I came in through club gymnastics. You’re the track guy, right?”

“How’d you know?”

Mason smirked. “I read the new roster. Plus, it’s obvious, man. You’ve got that sprinter build.” He gave a small shrug. “You’ll pick things up fast, I bet. Power’s half the game in gymnastics.”

I smiled faintly, the tension in my shoulders softening.

“Still feels like a lot,” I admitted, sitting on the edge of my bed. “New sport, new team, new school…”

“Yeah, well,” Mason said, laughing, “we’re all figuring it out. Anyway, the team’s solid. I’ve been here a few days; started training already. Casper’s assistant coach — he’s been here a couple years. Definitely knows what he’s doing. He pushes us hard.” He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “He’s one of those guys who looks like he never stopped competing, you know? Still trains with the team sometimes. He keeps the boys sharp.”

I tried to play it cool, but curiosity flickered in my chest.

“Is he strict?” I asked.

Mason grinned. “Let’s just say he doesn’t let shit slide.” He pushed up from the bed, stretching his arms overhead. “Come on, man. First team intro’s in twenty. Let’s go introduce you to the crew.”

I stood, grabbing my gym bag, my stomach twisting up again. I told myself it was just nerves, just the normal pressure of proving myself to a new team. But as I followed Mason out the door, I couldn’t shake the flicker of heat sitting low in my chest. I couldn’t deny the fact that I found my roommate attractive and I was going to have to live — and train — right next to this man all year. Oh well, problem for tomorrow I guess.

The gym smelled like chalk, rubber mats, and faint sweat. Bright overhead lights gleamed off the polished equipment: rings, bars, pommel horses, the spring floor stretched out wide like a stage. My heart thudded a little faster as I stepped inside behind Mason.

A few guys were scattered across the space, some stretching, some finishing drills. Their bodies were compact, dense with coiled muscle, moving with a sharp efficiency that made me instantly self-conscious. I shoved my hands into the straps of my bag, trying to stand taller.

“Yo, Casper!” Mason called, waving across the mats.

I followed his gaze — and froze for a second.

Casper.

He was walking toward us from the far side of the gym, wiping his hands on a towel. Blond hair, a little messy like he’d been running drills himself. Sleeveless black shirt clinging to his torso, sweat darkening the fabric across his back. Narrow waist, strong shoulders, thick, powerful thighs under snug athletic shorts.

He moved like someone perfectly aware of how his body worked: balanced, grounded, light on his feet even at rest. And his face — sharp green eyes, faintly sun-flushed skin, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth as he closed the distance.

“You Eli?” he asked, stopping in front of me, voice low and easy.

“Yeah,” I managed, shifting my bag awkwardly.

“I’m Casper. Assistant coach.” He held out his hand. His grip was firm, confident, warm from recent effort.

I felt my throat tighten for a second. “Good to meet you.”

Casper gave me a quick once-over, his eyes flicking over my shoulders, core, legs. It wasn’t leering, it was the sharp, assessing scan of someone cataloging an athlete’s strengths and gaps. But my skin prickled under the attention anyway.

“Sprinter background, right?” Casper asked, stepping back just a fraction.

“Yeah. I — I did four years of track,” I said. “Mostly sprints, a little hurdles.”

His smirk curved slightly higher. “Good. You’ll bring some power we can work with.”

I exhaled, trying not to overthink the rush of heat rising in my chest.

Mason clapped me lightly on the back. “Told you you’d survive the intro,” he teased, grinning. “I’m heading to warm-up. You good?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly.

“Cool.” Mason peeled off, leaving me standing in front of Casper, who watched him go with a faint shake of his head, amused.

“Come on,” Casper said, jerking his chin toward the equipment. “Let’s see what you’ve got, track star.”

I followed him onto the mats, heart hammering. Every movement he made was fluid, efficient, just a little sharp at the edges. And under the faint scent of chalk and rubber, I caught the warmer, sharper tang of sweat rising off his skin as he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it casually onto the bench.

My throat went dry.

Casper stopped by the parallel bars, stretching one arm overhead, the lean muscle of his side flexing as he reached. His skin gleamed faintly under the lights, streaks of sweat catching along his shoulders, the curve of his lower back.

“Let’s start simple,” he said, glancing back at me. “Show me a hold.”

I swallowed, set my bag down, and wiped my palms on my shorts. My fingers were already a little damp, nerves creeping up on me. Casper gestured for me to mount the bars, stepping aside but staying close, his arms crossed loosely over his chest.

I took a breath, leapt up, and gripped the bars, lifting myself into a shaky tuck hold. I could feel the tremble in my core almost immediately.

“Breathe,” Casper said calmly, stepping in. “You’re locking up your shoulders. Here.”

He placed his hands lightly on my upper back, fingers pressing firm, his body close enough that I caught the sharper edge of his sweat now, clean, but warm, earthy, the kind of scent you could taste on the back of your tongue. My pulse jumped.

“Drop your elbows just a touch,” he murmured, adjusting my arms. His voice was low, smooth, with a teasing note tucked at the edges. “There you go. Stronger already.”

I exhaled shakily, focusing hard, forcing myself not to flinch when his hands lingered longer than strictly necessary.

When I finally lowered down, landing lightly on the mat, I realized my face was flushed. I wiped the back of my arm across my forehead, trying to pull in a steady breath.

Casper gave a slow nod, lips curving faintly. “Good for a first day.”

I forced a smile, heart pounding way too hard for something as simple as a hold.

“Hey, don’t overthink it,” Casper added, stepping closer again, eyes gleaming. “You’ve got good base strength. The rest will come. But you’re gonna need to relax, Eli.”

His fingers tapped lightly at my lower back. “You’re carrying tension here. You’re stiff — locked up. That’s gonna slow you down.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a thin breath. I could feel the imprint of his touch like a brand.

He grinned slightly, a spark of amusement in his eyes, then stepped back, clapping once. “Alright. Let’s run through some basics before we kill you with drills tomorrow.”

I followed him across the gym, wiping my palms again, heat prickling low in my stomach. Mason was across the room, joking with another teammate, completely oblivious. I forced my focus forward.

But the whole time, I felt it — Casper’s presence just at the edge of my awareness, the lingering weight of his hands, the droplets of sweat forming on his body and pooling along the ridges of his taught muscles.

Casper turned to walk ahead, and I caught myself watching, heart thudding hard in my chest.

It wasn’t just his physique that caught me, it was the way he moved.

His body flowed. Shoulders slim but strong, rolling smoothly under skin that caught the light in faint sweeps of gold. His back shifted in gentle, deliberate waves as he walked, every motion efficient and balanced, the narrow taper of his waist leading to dense, powerful thighs. His calves flexed lightly with each step, clean and sharp.

Even the sweat on him seemed like an extension of his body’s elegance — a light shimmer along his upper back, a faint trace under the curve of his arms, glistening faintly at his neck where a few strands of blond hair clung damp. He walked like someone who was entirely at ease, every movement precise and economical, like his body knew exactly what to do without thinking.

I forced my eyes away, my face heating, forcing myself to focus on the equipment in front of me. Mason’s laugh drifted from across the gym, easy and unbothered, but my own pulse stayed too fast, too tight.

Casper stopped at the pommel horse, glancing back over his shoulder with the smallest tilt of his mouth. “You coming, Eli?”

I wet my lips, nodding quickly, and moved to join him.

Up close, the fine details were even more distracting. His forearms were lean and corded, light veins tracing over smooth skin, his fingers long and sure where they rested lightly on the horse. His chest moved in a slow, steady rhythm, the edge of his ribcage visible under his fitted tank, sweat darkening the fabric in faint, delicate patches. He didn’t loom, he was just… there, quiet, poised, perfectly balanced, like a dancer on the edge of motion.

“Let me see your hold,” he murmured, nodding at the horse. “No pressure. Just form.”

I exhaled, forcing my focus inward, stepping forward. My hands found the grips, body rising into a tentative hold. I felt the tremble almost immediately in my core, the slight shake in my elbows.

“Breathe,” Casper said softly, stepping in. His fingers touched lightly at my back, the warmth of his hand sliding featherlight across my lower spine. “You’re tightening up here. Let it go, there it is.”

His voice brushed against the edge of my ear, low and almost amused. My pulse tripped, chest tightening sharply, his praise like a reward.

When I finally lowered down, shaking out my arms, I realized I was breathing hard — and not just from the effort.

Casper smiled faintly, head tipping. “Good. You’ve got some natural skill. We’ll shape the rest.”

I swallowed hard, nodding. My skin tingled where his fingers had touched, my face warm as I wiped sweat off my forehead.

And as I followed him to the next drill, I couldn’t stop noticing it, the way he moved, every step a study in grace, his body a quiet study in control.

The session wrapped up an hour later, my muscles pleasantly sore, my shirt clinging damp to my back. Casper ran through a few final pointers, voice calm and light, his mouth quirking into the occasional smirk when I tripped or stumbled. It wasn’t cruel, more like he expected it, more like he knew where I’d falter before I did.

We packed up near the bench, me wiping my face with a towel, Casper slipping off his sneakers to stretch barefoot on the mats. I caught myself watching again, not the raw strength, but the precision. The clean lines of his legs, the sharp flex of his calves, the gentle roll of his ankles as he worked through his stretches. Even at rest, he looked like a body built for discipline, for tight, impossible shapes.

“You did alright today,” he said, tipping his head to look at me, green eyes glinting faintly. “Bit stiff. But we’ll loosen you up.”

I laughed softly, awkwardly, feeling my cheeks warm. “Thanks. I — yeah, I’ll work on it.”

He rose smoothly, tugging his shirt over his head, the move casual, unthinking, and wiped it down his chest and shoulders, damp blond hair falling slightly forward as he scrubbed at the back of his neck.

Then, as I bent to grab my bag, I felt it: his hand, light and firm at the small of my back, just for a second, steadying me.

“Careful,” he murmured, voice low, smooth, near my ear. “Don’t overdo it on day one.”

I jerked slightly, blinking, but by the time I straightened, his hand was gone, his expression easy, the smallest flicker of a smile playing on his mouth as he turned away.

I stood there for a beat too long, heart thudding, heat licking up my neck. Had that been…? No. No, it was just casual, just a coach making sure I didn’t fall over after a long session. That was all.

Still, the skin where he’d touched felt charged, hypersensitive, like it remembered.

Mason caught up with me outside the gym, slapping my shoulder with a grin. “Told you you’d survive.”

I laughed breathlessly, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, it was good.”

“You coming to dinner?” Mason asked, adjusting his gym bag. “Some of the guys are hitting the dining hall.”

“I might catch up,” I said quickly. “Need a shower first.”

Mason waved me off, heading toward the crowd, easy and laughing. I watched him go, then turned, making my way slowly back toward the dorm.

The air felt cool against my skin, sweat drying under my clothes, but my body still buzzed — not just from the workout, but from something sharper, tighter, coiling low in my stomach. I couldn’t shake the faint weight of that hand at my back, the smooth brush of Casper’s voice, the way his body moved when he thought no one was watching.

Most of all the way his hand had felt when he’d touched my skin.

And then there was Mason…

I swallowed hard, pushing open the dorm door, wondering how the hell I was supposed to focus on anything else tonight.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for reading my story; I hope you've enjoyed! If you'd like to read ahead in this story, access extra content like images and bonus chapters or read my other stories you can do so here

its a real from 20 years old story abt roomate and Jake/jack I don't remember, they were close and have big cock but in the story they called it schlong Jake is 8inches and the storyteller is somewhere 8"5. the story abt they sex life and how they life and help each other out in school and life.
I remember Jake isa country guy with5 or 8 sister, when they move in he joke abt he live with his sister so this is his chance to be free and finally can only wear boxer to sleep, he is very protective toware the storyteller andsaid that he should be proud abt his big schlong and have fun with girls in college

This is the threesome with the bi couple after their honeymoon that turned into a foursome.

The newly wed hubby called me after they returned from there 2 week honeymoon at the orchids resort on the big island Hawaii. Apparently they had a f****** good time which included a threesome with the room service clerk, and another threesome with a fitness instructor. The room service clerk told them that the service manager keeps an eye on the guests and when he sees them that are sexually active and experimenting he unofficially arranges for certain members of the staff to be the ones to provide services to those guests. These staff members are picked because they're likely to engage the guests in some kind of "action". The room service clerk said he's been working there 3 years and he loves it because he gets laid like crazy and huge tips. He also mentioned there's a waiter famous for his giant cock, but my friends were disappointed to learn he was on a 3 week vacation.

After hearing all this I was eager to hookup with them and we hit on a date a coupke weeks later.

I showed up at their very modern upscale home and we had drinks outside on the patio. Evening was falling and bride suggested jumping in the hottub. I mentioned I didn't have a bathing suit, and she stood, peeled off her dress revealing nothing underneath, and jumped in, with hubby following. OK I and stripped and jumped in. A couple minutes late she exclaims "Oh look, his cock floats" which it does. Hubby went "looks like we got a sea serpent!" which got laughs and got the bride trying to give me a bj. Well, that got me insta-hard and she could no longer get me in her mouth, so hubby went "My turn" but he complained his jaw hurt. Meanwhile I was fingering the bride under the water to her quiet moans until she went "OK this is nice but I gotta fuck". Nothing like a woman who is frank about her needs.

So we retire to the bedroom where in very short order I'm on my side in her vagina, she's on her side and groom's in her ass, both of us thrusting the same timing and shes going WILD thrashing, shouting, it was a challenge to stay in her even with my 9+ inches. I could feel groom's dick inside her - he wasn't my size but a very nice 7"x5 or so. Suddenly bride let out this wail, her whole body shook and she orgasmed, all of which triggered both groom and I to cum, and we lay there feeling her orgasm while the two of us pumped away, feeling the other's cock throb inside her. Timing both guys to simultaneously cum inside the woman is an exquisite sensation. Things just started to subside when I heard "Hey, what's this?" and standing by the bed was a medium height, wiry young guy with curly black hair and a huge grin.

Wifey goes " That's my brother Denny". Hmm. Here I am with my huge, still cum-pulsing cock buried in his sisters vagina, greeting her younger brother. This is new. "Hi Denny pleasure to meet you". We finally finished and both of us pulled out of wifey and rolled on our backs, the three of us laying naked, sweaty, and sex juiced with Denny looking on. Denny looks at my cock and goes "Wow, sis, that's a fucking horse, he must spilt you wide open" and hubby goes "He's split me, I'm waiting to be next". Well, I still had my "gotta fuck" brain on and my cock was hard, so I climbed over wifey, lifted his legs and with a shot of lube rammed my still rigid cock into him, with him gasping and crying out. I was well into thrusting and feeling his insides when I noticed Denny had stripped and was standing right next to us stroking his nice sized and shaped cock. Although he was pale, his body was wiry muscular and didn't have an ounce of fat and begged to get fucked. As I thrusted he started stroking my ass and it bobbed up and down. Well, then looks like it's my lucky day!

I grabbed Denny with one hand and pushed him over and on his back on the bed. Just then I felt my body tighten, my balls clench and my dick swell bigger and I popped, pumping out my load into hubby. I had pumped maybe 3 times and I pulled out, shooting out cum ropes on hubby then Denny, climbing on Denny while still pumping cum and slowly penetrated him, now releasing the last of my baby batter inside him. "Holy fuck my god you're cumming and stretching" and that was his last coherent words as I continued to pound him, his ankles on my shoulders, penetrating his second hole which produced a shudder then "oh shit oh shit oh shit" kinda slurred as he shook, then I felt him tighten and them pump, his cum muscle throbbing against my cock as he emptied a delicious load on his washboard abs. I came again, so after a couple pumps inside him, pulled out and added my goo to his stomach which filled his cum gutters and ran down the side of his torso.

I fell over on my back, spent. We lay there breathing hard for a couple minutes and hubby went to Denny "How does it feel to literally be speared?". Denny reached over and grabbed my still-swollen cock and said he'd never had a guy so deep inside him it actually did feel like his insides were being moved. Meanwhile, wifey had been watching us three guys fuck but left the room, fetched back a tray with beers and a plate with sliced saysage "You guys worked so hard at your sausage-fest I figured you need something to drink and more sausage" LOL!

My first brother-sister threesome, actually a foursome. Denny wants me to top him again, but wants to wait a couple weeks for the soreness to subside. Meanwhile he keeps having dreams where he says he feels me inside him, then he wakes up to find he's cum in his sleep.

I had a gay friend from the time I was around 17 but didn't realize he was gay for about a year because ge was living with a girl and I stupidly thought that they were a couple. I wasn't very observant at that point in my life.
I had a girlfriend at the time and we hung out with Paul and June just about every night. One night we all got toasted at their house and Paul said he was going for a steambath in the basement and everyone was welcome to join him.

As paul disappeared downstairs , the rest of us sat at the kitchen table and drank more beer. June leaned over the table and said " you know Paul likes you eh" I replied that I liked paul as well. " No he REALLY likes you" she replied.
(This is the part that I really am ashamed of) Being 18 and drunk and partialy brain dead I said " I REALLY like him too" but my reply was based on the fact that Paul was a great guy that I really liked as a friend and hadn't realized yet that he was gay and wanted to suck my cock.

Still in my stupid stupor I said "I'm going down for a steambath" and headed down to join Paul. I stripped and joined him in the hot steambath , sitting beside him on the top bench. We talked for a while until he started rubbing my leg and I looked over to see his cock standing straight up in the air. At that moment I realized what the girls had been trying to tell me and felt like an ass for not picking up on it. Like I said , Paul was a great guy and saw how freaked out I was at that moment and we talked about how he felt and how I felt as a supposed straight guy and agreed that our friendship was too important to discard over a misunderstanding.

We continued our friendship for years through my marriage and kids until I sucked my first cock in my 30's . After that experience ,I changed my views about MM sex and decided that I had been missing something wonderful all these years.
I called Paul and told him about me sucking my first cock and liking it...a lot.
He suggested that we get together and talk about it. My wife went out of town soon after with the kids to visit the inlaws while I stayed home to work and I invited him over that weekend.

He showed up friday night with a case of beer in hand and we settled down on the couch beer in hand and he immediately started to pump me for info on how my first gay encounter happened. As I told the story about how a guy at work had rubbed his cock against me and turned me on enough to make me go down on my knees and suck him until he came in my mouth , I could see paul's 8 inch cock grow in his shorts.
He didn't say a word as I told my story about sucking Tony's cock at work. I finished my story and told him after that experience I had been thinking that I should have taken him up on his offer years ago.

"It's not too late" he said as he pulled his shorts down revealing his rock hard cock. I couldn't help but stare at his beautiful boner . when I looked up he was looking at me staring and smiling. "You can suck me now if you like" he said . I replied " I think I would like that" and got up from the couch and kneeled down between his legs taking his hard cock in my hand stroking it slowly while looking at it closely, A large drop of precum slowly running out of the slit on the head of his big purple cockhead . I lowered my head down and took his big knob in my mouth sucking the precum into my throat and savouring the flavour. All I could think of at that moment was the fact that I could have been doing this years ago and only my fears about being labeled gay kept me from enjoying this type of sex. I sucked his cock for all I was worth hoping he would cum in my mouth, after a minute he said " slow down buddy, I want to see yours too you know" I relunctantly released his cock and stood dropping my shorts. He smiled and reached out to cup my balls and stoke my semi hard cock.

I moved closer to him and his lips closed over my cockhead while he massaged my ballsack. I placed my hands on top of his head while he sucked me and for a minute I imagined that we were back in his steambath all those years ago and I wasn't such a stupid kid. He sucked my cock like no one ever had before. No woman had ever sucked my cock down to the point where their lips were rubbing my pubic hair like he did. I thought " he has my whole cock in his throat" I was fucking his throat like my wife's pussy.

He pulled his face away from my cock and told me that he wanted to fuck me. I had never done that before but at that moment I really wanted to experience the whole thing. "I am yours " I said as he guided me to a kneeling position facing the couch. He kneeled behind me reaching around me to stroke my cock with one hand as he used his other hand to rub his hard cock up and down my ass crack. He gently pushed his cock against my anus which remained tight against his advances.
He licked his finger and pushed it into my ass moving it slowly around , he withdrew his finger and spit on it again pushing it into my ass along with another finger, moving them both in a rotating motion. This felt great along with his slow stroking of my cock while I grabbed the top of the couch and pushed back against his hand. He soon replaced his fingers with the head of his hard cock. He pushed and pushed but it was too fat for my virgin ass. He leaned over with his mouth beside my ear and told me to push like I was having a big shit. I did what I was told and felt his cockhead pop into my ass.

He stopped for a minute letting me adjust to the feeling of having a hard cock in my ass before he started fucking me slowly and ever deeper until I could feel his pubes tickling my ass cheeks.
He started a slow deep fucking while stoking my cock from behind then releasing my cock and holding my hips as he picked up speed . He went back and forth between stroking me and holding me until I came all over my couch and I could feel his cock expand even more as he pumped his hot load into the depths of my asshole.

I rested my head on the couch as he pulled his softening cock out of me and asked if I was ok. I replied that I was wonderful.

We got together for many mutual blowjobs after that but I never had the chance to have him fuck my ass again...Another of life's little regrets.

This is my first story.

House Rules – Season 1


A gay erotic slow-burn roommates-to-lovers series





When Ty, a rugged British ex-football player fresh off a breakup, crashes with Mason “just for a while,” neither expects what unfolds next. Ty’s shirtless lounging, mesh shorts, and late-night solo sessions with the door cracked open become more than just bad roommate etiquette—they become temptation.





Mason, a lean, sharp-eyed psych major with Southeast Asian features and a secret hunger, watches. Wants. Waits.





What starts as quiet voyeurism turns into a game of edged boundaries, unspoken rules, and charged silences. As the tension builds from glances to gasps, the line between roommates and something much filthier begins to blur.





Season 1 is a ten-episode arc of slow-burning eroticism, sexual tension, and escalating desire—told through solo scenes, mutual edging, and intimate moments where no one touches… until they do.





Expect:


Voyeurism


Masturbation & Edging


Bro-on-bro sexual tension


Cliffhangers every episode


A slow but explosive build toward full-on, mind-blowing sex




Watching my straight roommate stroke his fat cock through the crack in his door

Episode 1 - House Rules

Everyone in +18 years and everything is consensual.

From Mason’s POV

Ty wasn’t supposed to live with me.
Just crash for a bit. Help me cover rent while he figured things out after a breakup.

That was two months ago.

Now he’s basically furniture. Shirtless more often than not. Walking around in mesh shorts. Barefoot. Still wearing his ex’s cologne. And every night, without fail, he jerks off—with the door cracked open like he wants to get caught.

I’m Mason. Psychology major. Lean build, swimmer’s frame, Southeast Asian features people keep telling me are “unfairly hot.”
Ty is ex-football, trade-school jock, hairy thighs, big forearms, nice hands, and a cock he definitely knows is big, even if he pretends he doesn’t.

And I?
I am down bad.

⸻

Tonight, we’re watching something stupid on Netflix. A survival show where everyone’s naked and sunburnt, but somehow Ty still makes it feel like porn.

He’s sprawled on the couch, his arm thrown behind his head, abs flexing with every laugh. He’s wearing those black gym shorts again. The ones with no lining. No underwear. I know because when he shifts, his cock presses right against the fabric—long, thick, and hanging heavy to the side.

He notices me noticing.

Of course he does.

“You beat off yet?” he asks, like he’s asking about leftovers.

I blink. “Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Not yet.”

Ty grins. “No wonder you’re squirmy.”

“You already did?”

“Not yet. But soon. You know how it is. Can’t sleep with full balls.”

My cock jumps. I shift slightly on the couch, my own briefs clinging tight from how hard I’ve been since the third time he adjusted himself.

“You want privacy?”

He stands and stretches—slowly—giving me a full view of that stupid fucking V-line and the happy trail leading straight into what looks like a damn eggplant print.

“You think I need privacy for that?” he says, flashing me a smirk.

I swallow. “Right. House rules.”

Ty grins wider. “Just don’t spy on me.”

I lift a brow. “No promises.”

He starts walking toward the hallway, but pauses. Looks back.

“Oh, and Mason…” he says. “Try not to moan too loud tonight.”

⸻

I wait two minutes.

That’s all.

Two minutes of pretending to watch TV, pretending I’m not already throbbing in my briefs. Then I move—quietly—down the hall.

His door’s cracked. Just enough.

The room is lit with a single lamp, warm and golden.

Ty’s on his bed. One leg bent. The other stretched. Shorts shoved down to his thighs. And fuck me, he’s already stroking.

His cock is fat and flushed dark red, veiny and wet. The head is swollen—glistening with so much pre-cum it’s already smeared across his abs in long, sticky strings. His hand slides slow and tight from base to tip, thumb circling the crown, spreading slick everywhere.

He’s a heavy leaker.

Like… obscenely so.

Every stroke brings more. I can see it oozing out, glistening in the low light. He’s rubbing it in, slathering himself. His abs are wet. His cock glistens like it’s already been in someone’s mouth.

My knees almost buckle.

I grip my own cock through my briefs and it’s already soaked the front. I’m pre-ing just from the smell of him down the hall. I can taste it in the air—skin and sweat and sex.

Ty lets out this low moan, chest rising.

His other hand comes up to pinch his nipple. He squeezes hard, his hips lifting off the bed in little pulses.

Fuck.

I should leave. But I can’t. I edge closer to the door, just a few inches more, until I can see his full shaft, thick and throbbing. His balls are tight. His hand never stops moving.

Then he looks up.

Right at the mirror across from his bed.
The one that shows the hallway.
The one where I’m standing.

He sees me.

He sees me.

His eyes don’t change. He doesn’t stop.
He strokes faster.

Pre-cum starts dripping now. A string falls from his tip to his stomach and he moans louder.

I want to eat it off him.

But instead, I grip myself through my briefs and stroke twice—fast—needing it, dying.

Ty licks his lips. Keeps going.

I back away. Panting. Cock soaking my underwear.

Back to the living room. Back to the couch where I collapse, breathless, leaking, almost shaking.

I slide my briefs down to mid-thigh, wrap my hand around my cock, and fuck it like it’s his mouth.

The sounds keep echoing down the hall.

Slap. Moan. Stroke.

I’m about to cum—

“You finish that episode?”

Ty’s voice.

Right behind me.

I whip my head around, startled.

He’s shirtless. His cock’s back in his shorts, but the wet patch is massive. Clear and spreading. His abs are shiny. His hair is messed up. His lips are red.

He glances at my hand. Then back to my eyes.

Smirks.

“Thought you said no promises.”

Thank you for reading. Please leave feedback if you like

If you want to see what Ty and Mason looks like check out my Patreon: Get more from Zayn | Bare on Patreon

Ever meet someone with incredible eyes?

Like, where the color or shape or something is just so remarkable, you can’t look away?

A few weeks ago, I met a guy whose eyes caught my attention. I was meeting friends before a show downtown, and I’d gotten there early enough to grab a bite before I was due to connect with them. Like, more than an hour early. Being Friday night in early summer, and a lovely night to boot, it was pretty busy, and given my limited time, I opted for the first bar with interesting happy hour fare that I came across.

There weren’t any high tops available, but there were a few bar stools open, so I took a seat on the opposite end from the door, near the corner, and considered my options. I was trying desperately to downsize, so I got a fancy salad and a cup of lentil soup, which the bartender had recommended. But I was also having a night out and it had been a long day, so I ordered a beer. As I took my first sip, a shape was suddenly at my side, and a quiet voice asked if the seat was open.

“Go for it,” I said, and then I really saw him.

He was easily six feet tall, and probably a few inches over, and he was wearing a slightly shabby leather jacket over a tee shirt. His black-brown hair was shaggy and a little unkempt, and at a guess he was somewhere between mid twenties and mid thirties and very nicely built. I couldn’t help but watch as he pulled the jacket off to hang below the bar. It was worth watching: he was muscular without being bulky — sort of lean and athletic but not cut or ripped, at least not from what I could see. He wasn’t super hair, but a few curls peeked over the collar of his tee, a similar dark brown to the hair on his head. He had a sharp chin, and he clearly hadn’t shaved in a day or two, though it looked good on him. The bar was crowded and warm, and honestly I was surprised he had worn a jacket in the first place. Maybe he’d ridden a motorcycle or something…

Then he took off his sunglasses when the bartender handed him a menu, and I saw those remarkable eyes under thick, strong brows.

They were amber. Apparently truly amber eyes are very rare, and his were striking.

I tried not to stare, finding a reason to check my phone, or stare at a TV. He seemed oblivious to me, which was a relief, because I was doing my best to not become a creepy leering stalker guy. He was handsome, and fit, but those damned eyes threatened my very soul.

He quietly ordered a burger and a beer and sipped his beer, looking more than a little ill at ease. Meanwhile I did my best to not notice the way he looked, or smelled. He smelled good — leather and a very sharp, but not at all unpleasant, musk. I’d smelled it when he took off his jacket but now it was, like his eyes, begging for notice. Even though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t strong enough for most folks to notice, I was attuned to it and intrigued.

The soup was really quite good and so was the salad, and as I tucked into the meal, his burger came out. It smelled amazing as the lanky server passed the plate between us and identified him as the recipient.

He wasted no time in taking a rather large bite, but the burger was pretty damned big and it was clearly piping hot. He immediately had regrets and did the things one usually does when the food is hotter than expected. I felt bad for him and broke my usual “don’t talk to strangers” rule.

“Sorry, I should have warned you, my soup was really hot too!”

“It’s okay, I figured it out,” he chuckled, taking a swig of beer to cool his throat. “I was so damned hungry I didn’t think. I probably do that once a week,” he said ruefully.

“For me it used to be white dress shirts and Italian places. I never leave without a new stain.”

“Todd,” he said.

“Jack,” I said. “First time here for me.”

“Same. Had a good yelp rating so I figured I’d try it.”

“For me it’s all about convenience. I’m seeing a show a few blocks away in about an hour, and options were limited, so I admit I’ve got some regrets about ordering a salad. That burger looks fantastic.”

“It’s really good,” he agreed. “Fries, too.”

“Sadly, fries are currently enemy one on my list. Trying to get rid of this desk job pudge, you know?”

He looked at me, as though actually seeing me properly for the first time.

“Nah, you look pretty good, man. You hit the gym?”

“Not as much as I should,” I admitted. “Left over middle school trauma.”

“You should try, man, you look pretty good now, and you’d be hot with a bit more muscle on your bones.”

Wait, whaat? Was he flirting with me?

“Maybe,” I replied. “But for now, I like salads.”

“They say to really get rid of the fat, you need to focus on protein,” he said.

“Clearly you are no stranger to the gym,” I said, changing the focus as fast as I could.

“Believe it or not, I haven’t hit the gym regularly in a few years. But I travel a lot and get my exercise in other ways.”

“Some guys have all the luck,” I said, smiling sadly at my meal. “My family genetics aren’t so kind. My uncles all have big round guts and I do NOT want that.”

He met my eyes again with his. God damn those eyes! I couldn’t look away.

“So get some exercise. Lots of ways to do that.”

I shivered despite the heat. His attention felt nice if unexpected. I felt like he was testing me, challenging me.

Of course my phone buzzed.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I have to meet my friends in a few minutes,” I stammered.

He looked me over again, considering something, while I handed my card to the bartender.

“What time does your show end?”

“Around 10, I think.”

“Text me when you get out? I’m here for the weekend and could stand a little company to show me around.”

I realized I was staring at his intense amber eyes.

“I don’t have your number,” I stammered.

“Hand me your phone,” he said, and added it. “Text me when you get out. I’m going to be sitting alone in a hotel room anyway. Or we can meet here for a drink or something, if your friends don’t mind. Just…. I’m not up for a big crowd, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” I said. “Actually, they will probably go right home after anyway. The curse of young parents.”

“So I’ve heard. Don’t forget to text me, okay?”

*****

My friends were indeed young parents. Well, by my current standards at least. Bobby was a theatre nerd who seemed gayer than a pride day cocktail, but his wife, Kate, gave off a butch lesbian vibe, so they balanced out. And were both unaccountably straight. I adored their three year old, Timmy. But it was a rare night out for them and I did my best to focus. For whatever reason I didn’t mention Todd.

But for the whole performance, I was thinking about him. His eyes, his scent, his voice. What could he see in me? Was I just imagining it?

The show was good, not great, but it was supporting local talent and there was definitely some talent on stage. They were doing some Broadway standards and it was fun, but I wasn’t as engaged as I wanted to be. At intermission, as we grabbed overpriced drinks, Kate bluntly asked why I was out of it.

“You having a bad day or something?”

“We were probably droning on about Timmy,” Bobby replied.

“He *asked* about him!”

“Nah, guys, it’s fine. Just thinking about …. Well, I met someone tonight right before you guys got here.”

“Do tell,” Kate replied. “Salacious details, please.”

“Nothing to tell,” I said, then promptly recounted every detail of the brief time I’d spent at the bar with my amber-eyed Todd.

“So you got hit on by a passing stranger, he’s hot, and he asked to swing by after the show?”

“You HAVE to go, Jack,” Bobby said. “Besides, we have to collect our kid before 11, so we can’t really hang out tonight. I’m just glad we could do this with you.”

“Do iiiit,” Kate smiled. “Go bag yourself a hottie.”

I finished my drink, and nodded. “I think I will.”

*****

The show ended on a high note — whoever picked “Do you hear the people sing” from Les Miserables chose well. Especially in the current climate. Got the blood flowing.

I hugged my friends goodbye, endured a little more teasing as I walked them back to their car, and then I decided to throw caution to the wind and texted Todd.

ME: Show is over if you still wanna meet.

TODD: wasn’t sure you’d text me. Made my night.

ME: same bar?

TODD: I’m a few minutes away, grab my seat for me?

TODD: I mean grab *A* seat

I sent a thumbs up emoji and found myself back at the bar. The crowd was a little less thick than at happy hour, and I lucked out with a table about ten feet from the bar. I had barely thought about what to order when Todd was suddenly there, sliding into the seat.

This time he’d skipped the jacket, and wore a blue tee that was pleasingly snug, especially around his shoulders.

“I wasn’t sure you’d actually come,” he said.

“Same. I mean, I wasn’t sure you were serious, and then I wasn’t sure if I was…”

“Jack, I liked you the minute I saw you. And I enjoyed chatting despite how brief it was. For real. And I wasn’t kidding about wanting some company. No pressure, no rushing. Just have a drink or two and see what the vibe is.”

“That works for me,” I said, barely believing my luck.

We ended up having some cocktails and he ordered a slab of cheesecake that he insisted I try.

“I told you I was trying to lose weight,” I said. “I had the salad so I could have a beer, and I had a drink at the show.”

“One bite won’t kill you,” he said.

“What’s that old line, a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips?”

“I think the consequences of one little bite are not as bad as you seem to believe.”

Of course I gave in. It was worth it.

*****

We ended up chatting for another hour before the bar seemed ready for us to leave.

“I should probably go home,” I said.

“Yeah, but you don’t really want to, do you?”

“I live half an hour from here,” I said.

“You’ve also had a few drinks. It’s only midnight, why don’t we swing over to the hotel and chat some more while you get the booze digested properly.”

It was a pretty lame excuse but he was probably right. And I was definitely into him, and vice versa. So there we were, sitting in his hotel room, drinking bottled water that probably cost the same as our beers had.

Finally in the privacy of his room, he sat on the bed next to me and sighed, putting his hands behind his head. Once again, that sharp but pleasant scent was there, seeping into my nose and through my mind. The room smelled like him, a little, the bed even more so. We ended up talking for another half hour, quickly finding common interests. It was like we’d been friends for years.

Then he leaned over and kissed me, tentatively. I found myself responding in kind, but not fully committing.

“Was it okay to kiss you?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Good. I want to do it again.”

He was a good kisser, and we playfully smooched a bit, grinning fondly to each other.

I looked up at him, and finally asked.

“So what’s with the eyes,” I said. ”Are they contacts?”

“No,” he said softly. “They’re just my eyes,”

“I like them,” I said.

“Good.”

We kissed some more.

“I really should head home,” I said.

“On one condition,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Breakfast. Tomorrow. My treat, meet me here. Spend the day with me. Show me around.”

I kissed him again. “Okay, breakfast is nice, but what’s in it for me?”

“Bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush.”

“Acceptable,” I said.

My wife and I started dating when we were 19. She had massive tits, Blonde hair about 5ft2 and around 135 pounds. She would wear tight tops always, she knew exactly what she was doing by wearing those tight tops and that was making cocks throb. white or black. One night we were supposed to meet at this dance club, our third date, I arrived late. When I got inside I saw her sitting with a group of people and a big black guy sitting next to her. I knew this guy, he fucked one of my friends girlfriend and the girlfriend, in a drunken stupor confessed to me how guilty she felt about cheating on my friend blah blah blah.... she told me all about it, how big his cock was, how he stretched her out and how he loved fucking her big tits, and God her tits were huge, bigger than my girlfriends even. She went on to tell me that the guys cock was at least 10 inches, she wasn't sure but she could say that it was the biggest she had ever had, and how she was craving it now. So with this knowledge, I knew this guy was a force to be reconned with.

I stood at a distance watching as he ran his finger up and down her shoulder, she looked wasted and oblivious. Once again though, she was wearing a tight top, her 38dd's were stretching it out at max capacity. I could do nothing but stand there, frozen as my cock started to throb.

After a couple of minutes, he stood up, grabbed her hand and led her into the bathroom. I stood by and waited, knowing that his huge cock was going to be doing something horrible to her.

After around 10 minutes, he walked out with a big smile. She followed a couple of minutes later, her top seemed a bit stretched out and she was fiddling with her bra a bit in the back. I walked up behind her tapped her on the shoulder, she turned, smiled and gave me a big hug pressing those huge tits against my chest. She was as wasted as I suspected, whispered in my ear that she wanted to leave so I obliged her. I took her to my friends apartment, we tore of each others clothes and fucked like animals. This was only the 3rd time we fucked, but it was different than the 2 times before that it was much more instence. She was soaked through her panties and squeezed my cock with her tits so violently I thought she might cripple it.

A couple of weeks later I ran into the big black guy, we had a couple mutual friends so we shot the ******* about this and that. I told him I saw him sneak into a bathroom with a big tit girl a few weeks back, he smiled and said "oh yeah, I fucked those big tits right there in the bathroom, she's such a slut." I smiled, and asked if he had fucked her yet, he said not but had intended to if he would meet up with her again.

To this day she denies it, although has confessed to other whorish activities, and to this day blushes every time a black guy looks at her tits, and to this day, my cock throbs when I see it because I know, she is such a slut.

Anyone have any good ones?