Bending Eli

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Chapter 21: DĂ©jĂ  Vu

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

Casper stopped mid-sentence and just stared. It was clear that the task he’d shown up to accomplish was already underway. Only it was Mason who was taking the initiative to see to it that my core was loosened enough for the exhibition.

Of course, Mason wasn’t doing it for that reason. Mason just wanted to get his rocks off, and he knew I’d been needy for his cock since we arrived in the hotel room.

I’d been doing my best to keep it down for the sake of the neighbors since Mason sunk into me, but I had to keep myself from yelling, “Oh fuck!” at the top of my lungs when I saw Casper’s face — and what a face he made.

It was like he wasn’t sure whether to close the door and walk away, keep standing there frozen, or step into the room and take some sort of decisive action over the scene unfolding between Mason and me.

Ultimately, he chose the latter.

The door closed behind him and Casper walked into our hotel room. Mason seemed to take this as a sign that he should keep going and I felt his cock resume its in and out slide through my guts. To say I was humiliated at that point would have been an understatement. Mason just kept using me like I was nothing more than a blow-up sex doll, as though what Casper had walked in on and the fact he hadn’t walked away was something that happened to Mason all the time.

Then he made it even weirder when he broke the silence by saying, “Hey, Coach!” Punctuating the statement with a sharp slap to my ass. I could almost feel the imprint of Mason’s hand developing on my sweaty, pale ass cheek.

Mason kept riding me, slower now, in steady, long thrusts that hit that spot in me that made me convulse and moan like a bitch in heat. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it on purpose, but there I was convulsing so hard I could barely hold my body up, eyes rolled into the back of my head, sputtering nonsense words from Mason fucking me, while Casper and Mason carried on a conversation.

“Hey Mas,” Casper replied, with more uncertainty in his voice than I’d ever heard. “I thought you were still downstairs with the guys.”

“Nope,” Mason vaulted back. “I headed up early because I knew Eli here needed an after-dinner snack. He was hunnnngry.” Mason laughed and thrust into me hard for emphasis.

If my face could have turned any redder at that moment, it definitely did.

“So you two
 ? I thought you were straight?” Casper fumbled.

“I am, Coach,” Mason retorted. “This is all one way. Eli helps me out when I can’t satisfy my needs with the ladies. I’m a very modern man. I actually got the idea from you.” Mason picked up his speed as he delivered that news.

Casper looked confused.

“Got the idea from me?” he asked.

“Your morning sessions, Coach. I did a little looky-loo. Saw what you were up to. I realized Eli here liked dick and he didn’t mind being the one doing all the work. I had him in-my-fucking-room. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He practically begged me for it too. Asking me about rough sex and shit.”

So maybe Mason really didn’t remember what happened between us that fated night when he barged into the dorm drunk. Or maybe he just wanted to make the coach think I’d come to him begging for his cock. Either way, it was clear he’d been planning to have me as his sex toy since the moment he learned about what Casper and I were doing.

“Rough sex?” Casper almost stuttered. It was odd to see him so off-guard, but I was too lost in the sensations in my ass as Mason continued to pick up pace. That and the wild thoughts running through my head. Shame, lust, confusion, excitement; everything all at once.

“Yeah, Coach. He’s super into it. Asked me to shove him around a bit. Give it to him hard. He loves it. Don’t you Eli?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Now I had to speak. I was being pulled into this weird conversation and being forced to confess I enjoyed my roommate using me rough-style to my fucking gymnastics coach, WHILE my roommate carried on fucking me.

There was no point in denying anything at this point. It would be better to just get it over with quickly. Except what I said next only made things worse.

“Yes, Sir.”

Yes Sir? Where in the hell did that come from?

I’d seen guys use that kind of language in porn plenty of times, but I’d never used it with either Casper or Mason, even if it might have seemed natural, given our positions. Mason just laughed it off and slapped my ass, hard, again.

“See, Coach? He loves to be bitched out. I think it’s, like, a fantasy of his or some shit.”

Mason grabbed me by the hair and pulled my head back, exposing my neck to Casper like prey vulnerable for the kill. It was almost as if he was offering me to Casper, as though he wanted Casper to join in. Some kind of masculine bonding experience with me as the centrepiece.

That definitely seemed like Mason’s scene. He’d probably tag-teamed women with his bros before. I wasn’t so sure about Casper. He seemed a bit more private. Gentler, even when he was controlling my body.

“So you were dropping by for a special session with Eli and I ruined your plans, why don’t you join me, Coach?”

There it was. The offer.

Casper looked torn. It wasn’t clear what he was thinking. Maybe he wasn’t sure if Mason could do the job of loosening my core properly. Maybe he wasn’t sure if the whole thing worked for him. Maybe he just wanted me all to himself. Mason just busied himself with my ass, continuing to hold my hair so my face was forced towards Casper, staring at him as he stared back at me being rammed by my roommate.

Finally, Casper looked into my eyes and spoke.

“Do you want it, Eli? You want us both to help you get ready for tomorrow?”

Well, that was an odd way to describe a tag team fuck in the hotel room before the exhibition meet, but it didn’t make me want it any less. I wanted it so incredibly bad. From the moment Casper had walked into the room all I could imagine was both of them inside of me. Just like my dreams. Only now Casper knew about my love of rough sex. Would he indulge too?

I was about to find out.

A simple, “Yeah,” was all I could manage as Mason continued to pummel me from behind.

Casper slid out of his clothes almost too quickly. It had been weeks since it stopped feeling like Casper was just doing what he was doing for training purposes. It really felt like he was enjoying what was going on between us. There was more flair, more technique, more exertion. I wouldn’t call it passion exactly, but Casper really seemed to be enjoying himself a lot more.

Maybe I was just better at pleasing him, but the speed at which he undressed definitely hinted at some excitement.

Mason didn’t slow, still ramming me in steady strokes, my body rocking against the mattress. The slap of his hips echoed louder than I wanted in the hotel room, but there was no stopping it now.

Casper grabbed my chin and tilted my face toward him. I knew what he wanted before he even said it. My mouth fell open and his cock pushed past my lips in one smooth shove.

“Fuck, Coach,” Mason laughed, slapping my ass again. “That’s it. Get in there.”

Casper’s cock filled my mouth even fuller than Mason’s had. Thicker, longer. I gagged around it and Mason laughed harder, driving into me at the same time so I felt stuffed front and back. I tried to breathe but all I could manage were wet, muffled sounds while both of them used me.

Casper’s hand threaded through my hair, firmer than usual. Not the careful guiding touch he used in training. This was rough. He thrust into me like Mason said he should, like he wanted to see if I could take it.

“Yeah, harder,” Mason encouraged from behind. “He loves it, Coach. Pound his throat. He’s a bitch for it.”

My throat tightened as Casper shoved deeper, the head hitting the back until tears blurred my eyes. Mason’s rhythm picked up, spanking me between thrusts, palm landing firm against the same sore cheek over and over until I couldn’t hold still. Every part of me jolted forward with the blows, straight onto Casper’s cock.

I was choking and moaning and drooling down my chin, but I didn’t want it to stop. My gut was tied in knots, ass clenching around Mason’s cock, chest buzzing with the pressure of Casper’s grip on my head. It was rough, brutal even, but I loved it.

“See that?” Mason’s voice was hot in my ear, smug as hell. “He’s convulsing on my dick, Coach. You’re making him lose it.”

Casper groaned low, hips snapping harder. I could taste him, flesh and sweat, and every plunge dragged spit down my chin. I was trembling under them both, humiliated and turned on beyond reason.

Casper pulled out just long enough for me to gasp a breath before slamming back in. His eyes locked on mine, checking me even in the middle of it. I nodded frantically, unable to speak, throat raw but eager. That seemed to be all the reassurance he needed. He started hammering harder, each thrust making my jaw ache.

Mason drove deeper too, groaning as his balls slapped against me. “Fuck yes. Both ends, Coach. He can take it. He was built for this.”

I gagged again, spit flying, ass burning, every nerve lit up. It was the roughest I’d ever been used, and I wanted more.

Mason yanked out of me in one quick motion, a wet slap of skin as his cock left me gaping. He slapped my ass once more, the sting blooming hot, then gave Casper a sharp nod.

“Your turn, Coach. He’s loosened up nice for you.”

Casper was already there, cock lined up, thick head sliding into place like it belonged. No pause, no warm-up. Just the blunt shove of him pushing inside, and my body opened for him in a way it knew by now. The stretch wasn’t new, but the way he drove in was different: more force behind it, each thrust harder than the careful strokes he usually gave me. Mason’s words were still in his ears, and it showed.

I groaned into the sheets, fingers clenching at the blankets, my ass clamped around Casper’s cock while he buried himself to the hilt.

Then Mason crouched in front of me, his cock slick and swollen, dangling right at my lips. He tapped it against my mouth and smirked. “Don’t forget this cock, Roomie.”

My eyes flicked up, and the thought hit hard: that dick had just been inside me. The same shaft that was pressing to enter my mouth had been spreading my ass seconds ago. The taste would be there, my taste.

I hesitated, lips parted but still not moving. My gut twisted. It felt filthy, wrong even. And then my cock throbbed against the bed. The filth was what made it hot. Being between both of them, being used at both ends, Mason holding me like his personal slut while Casper drove me rough from behind. It was too much to resist.

I leaned forward and opened wide, taking Mason’s cock into my mouth.

“Fuck yeah,” he groaned, fist tightening in my hair. “Back at it. Filled from both ends.”

The flavor was faint, mostly the taste of Mason’s spit, but I knew I’d crossed a new line. Shame prickled my skin, but I dove on him anyway, tongue working his shaft as Casper slammed into me from behind. Each thrust from Casper shoved me deeper onto Mason, gagging me, spit flying from my lips.

Casper’s grip on my hips was iron, his rhythm punishing. Mason just laughed over my chokes, yanking me harder onto his cock.

“See, Coach?” Mason’s voice was smug. “He loves it. Built for this shit.”

My body shook with the pace of it. My ass was stuffed, throat filled, spit and sweat dripping everywhere. I couldn’t form a thought, just the raw pulse of being used by both of them.

Casper leaned over me, voice tight. “You good, Eli?”

Mason barked a laugh. “His mouth’s full, Coach. Only answer you’ll get is gagging.” He still yanked free suddenly, cock slipping from my lips with a wet pop.

Air rushed in, and I gasped. “It’s amazing,” I whispered, dazed, my voice barely more than a sigh.

Mason grinned, satisfied. “That’s all we needed to hear.” He shoved his cock right back in, filling me again.

Casper’s thrusts grew harsher, Mason holding my head steady. I surrendered completely, lost to the obscenity of it, giving myself over to the roughness both men demanded. Every slam of their bodies made me weaker, and I wanted nothing more than for it to never stop.

Casper was the first to relent. It was almost as if everything that was going on had amped him up a notch. His thrusts turned frantic, hips slamming into me with a rhythm that bordered on reckless. Each drive shoved me down onto Mason’s cock until I gagged and sputtered, but Mason only laughed, holding me firm by the hair.

“C’mon, Coach,” he goaded, voice low and taunting. “Let him feel you really empty those balls. Fill him up good.”

Casper groaned, a raw, guttural sound I’d never heard from him before. His hands dug into my hips, fingers biting hard enough to bruise, and then he was buried deep. My ass clenched around him as his cock pulsed, thick spurts flooding me in hot waves.

I moaned around Mason’s shaft, the vibration making him groan too. Cum filled me in steady bursts, my gut tightening as I felt the wetness of it. Casper gave one last rough shove, then sagged against my back, breath heavy.

Mason pulled me off his cock, strands of spit dangling from my lips, and grinned up at Casper. “Fuck yes, Coach. Let me have at that ass now. I told him I was gonna finish in there.”

Casper pulled out and stepped back, moving towards the second bed.

Mason hauled me back by the hips, forcing some of Casper’s cum out with a wet slide. I could feel more cum already seeping out of me, sticky trails sliding down my thighs. Mason lined himself up and pressed forward without hesitation.

“Don’t mind sloppy seconds once in a while,” he said with a laugh, and then he drove in.

The sensation was bizarre: Casper’s load still inside me, slick and warm, forced out by Mason’s thick thrusts. Each push made some of it leak, dribbling down my skin, smearing across my thighs and the sheets. I groaned at the odd fullness, my body twitching with every plunge.

“Fuck, that’s filthy,” Mason growled. His palm cracked across my ass again. “You’re leaking all over the place. Love it.”

He picked up a brutal pace, pounding me with none of Casper’s measured rhythm, just raw force. The slap of skin filled the room, his cock sliding in and out with wet, messy sounds that left no doubt what was happening.

Casper rolled onto the other bed, chest still heaving, and watched. His eyes stayed fixed on me, on the way Mason was driving into me without restraint.

“See, Coach?” Mason called over his shoulder. “Told you he was made for this. Tight as fuck, even after you.”

I was beyond words, body rocking forward with each slam, drool slipping down my chin as Mason fucked me rougher than ever. His grunts grew louder, hips hammering with single-minded focus.

He bent over me, chest pressed to my back, his voice hot in my ear. “Take it. Every inch. You’re mine ‘til I’m done.”

The next thrust bottomed out, and he let loose: thick, hot ropes of cum spilling deep inside, mixing with what Casper had already left. I moaned brokenly, body shuddering as he filled me.

When he finally pulled out, panting, more of the mess spilled down my thighs. Mason smirked, slapping my ass one last time. “That’s how you fuck a hole open.”

Casper chuckled from the bed. “Kid’s tougher than he looks. He’ll do great tomorrow.”

Mason ruffled my hair roughly, still catching his breath. “Yeah, he’s a natural. In the gym and out of it.”

I collapsed onto the sheets, used and dripping, while the two of them talked over me like I was proof of their point. And maybe I was.

Mason finally let me roll onto my side, the sheets beneath me damp and ruined. Casper sat up on the other bed, still flushed, still catching his breath, but calmer now. He gave a half-smile, the kind he sometimes wore after a clean training session.

“You did good, Eli,” he said. “Not just here. Your form’s been sharper all week. Tomorrow’s gonna be big for you.”

Mason stretched out beside me, one hand draped heavy on my hip. “Coach is right. You’ve been killing it. And that routine’s gonna look even better once you stop second-guessing yourself.” He gave me a light slap on the ass, more playful than punishing this time. “You’ve got it.”

Casper stood and started pulling his clothes back on. “I’ll leave you two to rest. Big day ahead. But you’re ready.” He caught my eye before heading for the door, that firm look he used in the gym. “Trust yourself tomorrow. You’ve put the work in.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and for the first time all night the room felt quiet. Mason shifted closer, his voice softer now.

“Don’t stress, Roomie. First meet jitters are normal. Hell, I almost pissed myself my first time out there.” He grinned at the memory, then pressed his forehead against mine. “But you’ll be solid. You’ve been training harder than half the team.”

I swallowed, body still trembling faintly from what they’d just done to me. “You really think so?”

Mason snorted. “I know so. You’ve got the skills, and now you’ve got the fire. Just keep your head clear and let your body do what it’s been trained to do.”

He gave my ass one last hard smack before pulling me up from the bed. “Come on. Quick shower before we crash. No way I’m sleeping in these sheets.”

I nodded, still shaky, and gathered myself. Mason grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom first. I waited my turn, body humming with leftover tension, then slipped in after him. The hot water did its job, washing away the mess and the sting of skin, leaving only a dull ache deep inside me.

When I came back out, the lights were already low. Mason was sprawled on his bed, phone face down on the nightstand, one arm thrown across the blanket like he owned the whole room. I guess he kind of did.

I slid under the covers of my own bed, the sheets cool against my skin, and let my body finally go slack.

“Sleep, Eli,” Mason said into the dark, voice softer now. “Tomorrow’s yours.”

That was the last thing I heard before sleep pulled me under.

Thank you so much for reading my story; I hope you've enjoyed! If you'd like to read ahead in this story (currently at chapter 33 with 3 bonus chapters), access extra content like images and bonus chapters or read my other stories you can do so here .

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Chapter 22: Kings​

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

I woke up the next morning with a start. Mason’s figure towered above me. It was still dark outside but I could make out the lines of his muscles and his clean, masculine face, even in the dim light of the hotel room.

“Wake up, Roomie; it’s the big day!”

As my brain slowly caught up to what was happening, I realized that the absence of light meant Mason had woke me earlier than necessary to get ready for the day’s events. We had an early morning scheduled, but not this early. What did he have in mind?

An early morning blowjob maybe? Or a fuck even? A boy could only be so lucky. But I wasn’t sure my body could handle a Mason-style fucking right before I went out on the mats. If he asked for it, I might have to insist on sticking to blowjobs. I wasn’t sure he’d listen, but I’d make an effort to reason with him at least. In the end, Mason would get what he wanted because I wouldn’t be able to resist.

Mason shook me again. This time he pulled back the sheets, revealing the morning erection I hadn’t even realized I’d been sporting until that moment. The guys hadn’t given me a chance to jerk myself off last night, so it was no wonder I was still running hot.

Mason laughed when he saw the obvious tent my cock was creating in my briefs.

“Thinking about last night, huh?” he asked.

He wasn’t entirely wrong. What had transpired between Mason, Casper and me had dominated my thoughts all night until I’d fallen asleep. I couldn’t help but replay every sloppy moment of it. The instant Casper walked in. The look of shock on his face. The way he just closed the door and walked in, as if he’d decided in that moment he was going to be part of it, even if he wasn’t sure how.

I thought about Casper’s cock in my mouth, about Mason pounding my ass and then offering it to Casper like it was his to share. I remembered how they’d switched. Two muscular, tight-knit bodies moving around me with the same practiced, grace they used in their gymnastics. It would almost have been elegant if it hadn’t been so obscene. If it hadn’t been followed by Mason offering me his cock from my own ass to suck on like a reward I was only too happy to gobble up.

I’d lain in bed, impossibly hard, wondering what this new dynamic would mean for me. Mason knew about Casper and now Casper knew about Mason too. Would they use me together again or was this a one-off?

I knew if I ended up between them again, like that, it would irreversibly change things between us. How could it not? They’d used me like a toy last night. They’d even discussed it. Mason mostly, but Casper hadn’t exactly turned Mason down or acted like anything Mason did was weird.

I hadn’t complained either. I asked them to do it to me and if I let them do it again, I wouldn’t be a friend and trainee anymore, I would be something else. Wouldn’t I?

“No time for that,” Mason said, in reference to my hardon.

Of course not. There was never time for my dick these days it seemed. I shared the joke with myself as Mason tore away the rest of the blankets and any remaining dignity I had left and clarified why he’d woken me so damn early.

“Newbie tradition on exhibition day,” he said, gleefully.

Blowjobs for Mason were a newbie tradition? I wondered

“You can’t keep the team waiting for this one. Everyone’s gonna be there. Get up already!” Mason practically shouted.

Ok, so not a blowjob.

Blowjobs for the whole team? I joked internally again as I dragged myself out of bed reluctantly.

Mason told me to dress for the exhibition so I figured we wouldn’t be back to the room and after a steady round of hustling from Mason we were out the door.

He led me to the lobby of the hotel where a bunch of the team were already milling about.

As we approached the group there were waves and smiles, but this time they were directed at me instead of Mason, which was not the norm. Something was up and everyone was in on it. It seemed friendly enough, but Mason hadn’t given me any insight into what I was heading into so my nerves were still ticking up.

As the minutes rolled on, Mason and I got to chatting with some of the guys, and the rest of the team showed up. Taylor seemed to be taking headcount and when he was sure everyone was there, he yelled for the group to roll out and we left the lobby for a large field that cut a line between the hotel and the venue where the exhibition was taking place.

By now the sun had mostly risen and it was casting a beautiful, pinkish hue in the sky. There were hardly any clouds in the sky and the air was crisp and refreshing just like it was in the rural town I’d come from. The only thing undercutting the serenity were the nerves in my stomach that had started to creep back up about my first exhibition performance later that day.

Taylor summoned the group and mustered us into a tight circle. I’d never really noticed him as a leader before, but he was one of the most senior members of the team and he did have the respect of most of the guys, so it wasn’t entirely surprising to see him take on the role. It was just a bit unexpected now that I also knew Taylor was gay. I guess it didn’t matter to this group.

“Listen up, guys,” Taylor said. “It’s Eli’s first exhibition today and you all know what that means! Usually, we have more than one fresher on the team, but the second guy bailed this year so it’s only Eli. That means he gets the honor of leading the team cheers all by himself this year.”

The guys roared so loud I almost lost my balance.

“Last year, Mason, Kyle and Vic really fucked it up. Eli, you’re gonna show ‘em how it’s done, right?”

Mason took that opportunity to shove me into the middle of the circle. All eyes were on me. Taylor didn’t leave me alone though, in a flash he was right there, arm around my back.

“This is how it works, Eli,” he said. “You know our cheer. ‘Chalk it up. Lock it up. Chalk it up. Knock it up!’ Every year, the new guys
 or guy
 lead the team in the cheer before the first day of the exhibition, but there’s a catch. They also get to choose the last two lines that will be the new last two lines for the cheer for the rest of the season.”

That was a pretty big deal. Whatever I chose was going to be cheered by the team before every match for the entire year. Suddenly, the ‘Knock it up.’ part of our cheer made sense, with Mason at the helm.

“Don’t embarrass us like
 well, mostly Mason did last year,” Taylor said, confirming my suspicions. “Give us something great, you can do it!”



He started swaying his jacked arm back and forth like he was singing an old sea shanty and then started to stomp one foot and then shouted, “C’mon, Eli, get her kickin’”

I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but I was eager to get us past the “Knock it up.” era so my mind started to twist for anything that would work for our cheer.

I figured I had at least two lines before I had to think of anything original so I started slow.

I croaked out a quiet, “Chalk it up!”

Taylor stopped me. “Not loud enough, Eli. We need to hear you!” he said.

I started again and called out as loud as I could this time, knowing nothing else would suffice:

“Chalk it up!”

The response from the team came just as loud and ferocious:

“Lock it up!”

Now the heat was on. I fumbled and reached for what I knew.

“Chalk it up! Knock it up!” I yelled out.

The team groaned. Even Mason.

“That’s OK, Eli,” Taylor Said. “You should have seen the three last year.”

Several of the guys laughed as if they were recalling what must have been a funny experience the year before.

“Yeah, Mason really put on a show!” Ray offered loudly.

Taylor clapped me on the back and gave me a nod that said I should start again.

“Lock it up!”

“Chalk it up!” came the response.

My turn again. I’d been thinking during the pause and I went with what came to me. I hoped the guys liked it.

“Bars and rings! We’re the kings!”

Cheers this time; feet stomping, and Taylor’s grip tightened on my shoulder, letting me know I’d done it.

“Alright boys, you heard it,” Taylor shouted. “Go Eli!”

I started again, more confident this time.

“Chalk it up!” I shouted

“Lock it up!” the team boomed in response.

“Bars and rings!” I hollered.

“We’re the kings!” they thundered in raucous chorus.

Taylor gripped my neck again, letting me know another round was in order.

I amped it up this time, and the guys responded in kind. Taylor nudged me for several encores and with each repeat performance the team’s crescendo built, driving themselves, and me into a frenzy. By the end I was shouting so loud and hard I’d almost forgotten we were in a public place, and my throat was running raw.

When we were done every member of the team gathered in close to congratulate me in what seemed like the real welcome to the team that I’d never really had.

By the time we broke the circle and stomped our way back inside, my throat was raw but I didn’t care. My chest felt wide open. I was buzzing. I wasn’t just the freshman tagging along anymore, I was part of them.

(continued in next post...)
 
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Chapter 22: Kings (continued...)​

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

The rest of the morning blurred into chalk and sweat. Warm-ups rolled by easy, and I could feel everything clicking the way it had in practice with Casper. My body wasn’t dragging, it was pushing forward on its own, like it wanted to show what it had. The nerves that had sat heavy in my stomach yesterday were gone. I wanted to get out there.

When it was my turn on the floor, I took a deep breath, slapped my hands, and went. The tumbles snapped together clean, my landings tight. Each time my feet hit the mat, it was solid. No wobbles. I could hear the team in the background, shouting my name. By the time I hit my last hold, I knew. I had nailed it.

On the rings I went higher than I’d ever dared before, chest burning, arms quivering, but it felt right. I squeezed through the final twist and came down hard, feet flat, eyes forward. The cheer that rose up told me everything.

Casper caught me right after I stepped off. He slapped me on the back so hard it almost knocked the breath out of me. His grin was wide, proud in a way I had never seen.

“That’s the gymnast I’ve been waiting for,” he said.

The words stuck with me. For a second it felt like my whole chest lit up. All the hours bent under him, all the corrections, all the stumbles, and now this. I wanted to go again, right then and there.

The rest of the sets rolled on. Mason tore it up like always. Taylor looked smooth as hell on the pommel. Ray hit a stuck landing that made the crowd jump. One after another, the guys gave it everything and we fed off each other. By the time the exhibition wrapped, we weren’t just a bunch of individuals grinding through routines. We were a team.

Back at the hotel the buzz carried into dinner. They had us in a side room with round tables and the food wasn’t anything special, but it didn’t matter. Everyone was loose, laughing, full of energy.

I sat down with Mason, Taylor, and Ray. Mason immediately started tossing grapes at Ray across the table like we were in a cafeteria back at school. Taylor rolled his eyes but he was smiling the whole time.

He leaned toward me after Mason got up to refill his plate. “Second day’s different,” Taylor said. “More relaxed. You’ll like it. They let us do some exhibition sets, more flair, less strict scoring.”

“Like show-off mode?” I asked.

“Exactly. Think of it as the fun day. You’ve already proved yourself. Tomorrow you just go out there and give them a performance.”

It sank in slow. The worst of the pressure was already over. Tomorrow was about riding it out.

Taylor told me more about when he first joined. How he’d been terrified of messing up, how the guys had made him feel like family once he got through that first weekend. He spoke softer than Mason ever did, but steady. I kept nodding along, soaking it in.

Mason came back and plopped down in his chair, tossing a bread roll into my lap. “Don’t let him bore you, Roomie. Taylor’s history lesson hour.”

Taylor flicked a grape at him. “Better than you stuffing your face like a pig.”

The whole table cracked up. Mason leaned back, smug, chewing like he’d already won.

It felt good though. Sitting there with them, catching jokes, adding a few of my own. I wasn’t the nervous freshman anymore. Taylor kept pulling me into the conversation, asking my thoughts, and Mason, for all his obnoxiousness, made sure nobody left me out either.

By the time dinner ended, I was full in a way that had nothing to do with food.

Once I’d made it back upstairs, I was lagging. My muscles hummed with the kind of ache that felt good, like proof I had earned something. I opened the door and Mason was already there, towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp. He had showered and was sitting on his bed with his phone glowing in his hand.



I dumped my bag by the wall and sat down heavy on my own bed. For a second I just stared at the door, half-expecting it to click open again and for Casper to be standing there. I kept glancing at it, waiting without even meaning to.

Mason noticed. He set his phone down and grinned. “What, checking to see if Coach is coming by for another cameo?”

My face burned. “Shut up.”

He swung his legs off the bed and stood, grinning wider. His towel was already half loose on his hips. He tugged it down slow, folds bunching, and his cock fell free, huge and thick. He wiggled it at me like he was showing off.

“Think just one cock will do tonight, Roomie?”

I snorted, trying to cover my pulse quickening. “Guess I’ll have to make do with what I’m given.”

His eyes lit with mischief. “No attitude from you, suck boy.” It came out half a laugh, but something in it hit deeper. A joke, sure, but I felt the shift.

I rolled my eyes and slid off the bed, dropping to my knees. “Whatever,” I muttered, crawling toward him anyway.

He smirked down at me, hand resting on the base of his shaft. When I reached him, he tapped the head against my cheek. “Good boy,” he said, still playful but with that same edge.

The words made my gut twist. I noticed them, noticed him saying it, but the only thing I wanted was the weight of him in my mouth. I opened up and leaned forward, taking him down.

Mason sighed, satisfied, like I was exactly where I belonged.

He was already half hard, but the second my mouth closed over him his cock thickened against my tongue. Mason shifted his stance, feet apart, steady, like he was bracing for a lift. One hand settled into my hair and pressed. Not enough to choke me yet, but enough to tell me this was about him.

“Take it,” he said, low, and I worked him slow at first, tasting his skin, the faint bite of soap from his shower. He wasn’t patient. His hips pushed forward and suddenly my throat was filling, triggering my gag reflex. He pulled me back just far enough for spit to run down my chin, then shoved me forward again.

“That’s better.”

I tried to keep my hands on his thighs for balance, but he knocked one away. “Nope. Hands behind your back. Let me do the work.”

I obeyed, lacing them behind me, and the angle changed everything. Mason groaned and started rocking harder. My jaw ached but I kept opening wider, letting him set the pace.

“Lick my balls,” he ordered suddenly, yanking me off his shaft with a wet pop.

I was dizzy from the rush of air, but I obeyed, dragging my tongue across his sack. He laughed, pleased, resting his cock across my face like a weight. “Yeah. Get under there.” I pushed further, nosing under, licking every seam and crease until he tugged me back up.

“Now my taint.” He spread his stance wider, guiding my head lower. My tongue traced the damp skin there and he groaned. “You’re learning.”

When he hauled me back to his cock, I knew better than to take my time. I sucked hard, bobbing my head, letting him slide deeper each thrust. He was rough, making me choke and sputter, but every time I thought I’d lose it he held me firm, making me swallow around him.

“My feet are killing me from today,” he said casually, like we were talking dinner. He leaned back onto the bed, dragging me with him. “Rub ‘em while you suck.”

I blinked, confused, but he shoved one foot into my lap. I grabbed it, kneading the arch with one hand while sucking his cock with the other hand bracing me. He moaned, stretching out, cock twitching against the roof of my mouth.

“Harder,” he said. “Massage, don’t tickle.”

So I dug in, thumbs pressing into his sole while I kept his cock sliding deep. My throat worked around him, spit dripping down my chest. Mason laughed again, giddy and thoughtless in the way that made me ache. “Look at you. Working two jobs at once. My little multitasker.”

He switched feet on me, shoving the other into my lap. I squeezed, rubbed, bent my head lower so I could lick the side of his big toe while still jerking him with my hand. He groaned so loud it shook through my chest. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep sucking.”

I went back to his shaft, mouth raw but hungry. I swallowed him down until my eyes watered, until I couldn’t breathe through my nose anymore. Mason gripped the back of my head and held me there, hips jerking up. My whole body shook but I stayed, drool running everywhere.

“That’s what I like,” he muttered, voice thick. “Devoted to the task.”

He let me up at the last second, letting me gasp, then shoved me back down. I worked faster, hand twisting at the base, tongue sliding along his slit. Mason’s thighs tensed. His voice broke rough. “Gonna cum down that throat, Roomie. Don’t waste it.”

I doubled down, sucking hard, dragging his balls with my fingers, rubbing at his foot the way he liked. He groaned, deep and sharp, then shoved me down to the root. Hot cum surged, thick and heavy, hitting the back of my throat. He held me there until I swallowed every drop, coughing, gagging, but still milking him with my tongue.

When he finally let go, I pulled off with spit and cum smeared across my chin. My chest was heaving. My knees hurt from the floor. Mason leaned forward, sweat beading on his forehead, and patted my head like I was a dog who’d just done a trick.

“Good boy,” he said again, softer this time, satisfied in a way that cut straight through me.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and sat there, empty and full all at once, the taste of him still thick on my tongue.

I stumbled to my feet, legs shaky, throat burning. Mason was already stretched back on his bed, eyes half closed, looking like he’d just finished a long workout instead of using me.

“I’m showering,” I muttered, grabbing my bag. He only hummed, rolling to his side.

The water hit hot and biting, steam filling the tiny hotel bathroom. I leaned against the tile and let it run down my face, trying to wash away the soreness in my jaw and the ache in my knees. My stomach was still tight from swallowing him. I wanted to jerk off, wanted to take the edge off, but the walls felt too thin, and I couldn’t stop picturing Mason hearing every sound.

By the time I dried off and stepped back into the room, Mason was out cold. He had one arm tossed across the sheets, mouth open a little, chest rising slow. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the blankets up.

I dropped my towel on the chair and slid under my own covers. My body was tired but my dick was still hard. I shifted, tried to get comfortable, but every brush of the sheet made me twitch. I checked the door again, out of habit, half hoping, half dreading. Nothing.

The room was quiet except for Mason’s steady breathing. I slid my hand under the blanket and thought about taking care of myself quick, but the sound of him shifting in his sleep froze me. I pulled my hand back out, heart racing like I was already caught.

So I just lay there. Hard, frustrated, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about the way he had looked down at me, the way his voice had changed when he said “suck boy” and “good boy.” A joke, but not just a joke.

I pressed my face into the pillow, willing my body to relax. Tomorrow would come fast. Day two of the exhibition. Taylor had promised it would be fun. I had to hold on to that.

Eventually, the exhaustion won. My cock throbbed, unsatisfied, but my eyes slipped closed. I fell asleep thinking about what the morning would bring.

Thank you so much for reading my story; I hope you've enjoyed! If you'd like to read ahead in this story (currently at chapter 36 with 3 bonus chapters and a Casper PoV series), access extra content like images and bonus chapters or read my other stories you can do so here .

Follow me on X: @BBGayErotica or on Bluesky: bbgayerotica.bsky.social for more kinky fun!
You can also follow me on Instagram now to see some of the boys in my stories: instagram.com/brokenboundariesgayerotica/ or on Youtube: @BrokenBoundariesGayEnt
 
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Chapter 23: Third Time’s A
​

© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica

The second morning of the exhibition started with a strange mix of nerves and leftover pride. I had been carrying the feeling since yesterday when the guys stomped their feet to the chant I came up with. “Bars and rings, we’re the kings.” My line. It still felt unreal. I kept replaying the noise in my head, the way they pulled me in after, like if I held onto it tight enough it would not slip away.

My throat was raw. Lips still stretched. My body reminded me of it every time I swallowed. Mason had shoved his dick down my throat last night and barely said a word after. When he rolled over to sleep I had been left buzzing, used, and oddly satisfied. The mix of soreness and pride sat under my skin in a way that carried into this morning.

Mason was already awake. He lay sprawled on his bed in nothing but briefs, scrolling on his phone with his hair sticking up. He caught me staring and smirked.
“You dreaming about the crowd still, Roomie?”

I shrugged and tried to play it off, but the smile tugged at my mouth anyway.

He stretched, joints cracking, then said, “Come on, let’s see what the boys are up to.”

He banged on the connecting door a couple times before just pushing it open. Ray answered with his shirt half on. The room smelled like body spray and the coffee packets from the machine. Taylor sat on the edge of his bed tying his sneakers, looking put together as always.

“Morning,” Mason announced, strolling inside and dropping onto the empty bed. “You two recover from the stomp fest yesterday?”

Ray laughed, tugging his shirt down. “I’m still hearing it in my head.”

Taylor glanced up at me. His hazel eyes were steady and softer than I expected. “You killed it, Eli. Seriously. That was huge.”

The words hit deep. I muttered thanks, my ears burning. Mason clocked it and smirked wider.

We stayed there talking for a while. Mason joked about how bad the hotel eggs would be. Ray hyped himself up for his floor set. Taylor asked about my family coming to watch and listened like he actually cared. For once I did not feel like the tagalong.

Mason shoved me back toward our side when he was done distracted with some comment he was making about the second day of the event.

Downstairs, breakfast was noisy. The food was what you would expect, rubbery eggs and watery juice, but the room felt alive. Coach gave a quick rundown of the schedule, then let us loose.

I picked at my plate. My stomach felt tight and every bite sat heavy. Mason nudged me under the table.
“Relax, Roomie,” he muttered. “You’re good.”

It was easy for him to say.

The exhibition morning felt different the second we stepped into the venue. The hall was alive in a way our gym never was. Chalk dust already hung in the air, and the sound of bodies hitting mats and coaches barking corrections bounced around the rafters. Every team had carved out a corner to stretch and move through their own warm-ups, but it all blended into a steady hum of energy.

My body went through the stretches. My head didn’t keep up. The thought of stepping onto the mats with a crowd watching made my gut knot tight.

Mason finished a short set on the rings and dropped down beside me, towel draped around his shoulders. He smirked when he saw me sitting there rubbing my hands over my thighs like I could press the nerves away.
“You’re wound tighter than a spring, Roomie,” he said.

“I just don’t want to mess up,” I admitted. My voice came out lower than I meant, almost a mutter.

He leaned in a little, casual. “You remember what Casper said the other night? About keeping your core loose?”

The memory slammed back hard — Casper standing over me in the hotel room, Mason still buried in me, that line tossed out like it was just another training cue. My throat tightened.

Mason grinned like he’d cracked a code. “I think he meant it literally. You ever notice how you move better after? You’re not so stiff. Shit flows easier. Probably because you’ve been fucked open.”

I looked around fast, but nobody was close enough to hear. The noise in the hall covered us, but my face still burned. “Mason
”

He shrugged like it was obvious. “I’m serious. Think about it. You were flying after that night. You want that edge today, I can help. Quick trip back to the hotel, I fuck you good, you’re loose, nerves gone.”

He said it with a cocky grin, but there was something under it that felt almost genuine. Like he thought this really was part of the prep. My chest twisted. It was insane. But so was the idea of screwing up in front of everyone.

I nodded once.

“Atta boy.” He slapped my back hard, then grabbed his bag. “Let’s roll.”

The walk back to the hotel felt longer than usual, every step echoing in my chest. The halls reeked of old cleaner. It only made my nerves worse. Mason strode ahead like he was heading to the podium.

He shut the door behind us and tossed his bag aside. “Clothes off. We don’t got all day.”

My stomach churned but I obeyed, tugging my shirt over my head and kicking my sweats to the floor until I was left in my briefs. Mason stripped even faster, cock swinging heavy and already swelling. He sat back on the bed, leaning on his elbows.

“Get me ready, Eli.”

I knelt between his legs. My mouth watered before I even touched him. I licked the head first, salty and warm, then slid my lips down his shaft. Mason let out a low sound, hand landing on the back of my head.

“Yeah, that’s it. Deep,” he muttered.

I worked him steady, spit dripping down my chin as I bobbed lower and lower. My jaw ached, throat gagging when he pushed deeper, but he didn’t let up. His cock filled my mouth, his groans filling my ears.

“Gotta get me wet for your ass,” Mason said, voice rougher now. He tugged me off and spit strung between my lips and his cock. He slapped my cheek with it lightly. “Turn around.”

I climbed onto the bed on my hands and knees, skin prickling with fear and want all at once. Mason spat into his palm, stroked himself, then lined up behind me. The blunt head pressed at my hole, no patience for teasing.

The first push made me grunt, my body clenching. He grabbed my hips and drove in harder. The stretch tore through me, sharp and full, and I clawed at the sheets as he bottomed out.

“That’s it,” he growled. “Take it.”

Mason started pounding me, hips slapping against my ass hard enough that the bed creaked under us. My knees slid on the sheets as he drove in again and again, filling me rough and fast. Every thrust knocked a grunt out of my chest, the sound swallowed into the mattress when I buried my face there.

“Yeah,” Mason muttered, holding me by the waist like I was his grip bar. “That’s what you needed.”

My body jolted with every slam forward. I tried to brace with my arms, but he shoved me flat, one hand on the back of my neck, pressing me down into the bedspread. The sheets smelled like detergent. Mason’s cock still carried skin and sweat. My throat made small noises I couldn’t hold back.

I didn’t hear the door at first. Just a faint scrape, then a hinge shifting. Mason was too busy driving into me to notice. I twisted my head and my stomach turned over.

Taylor stood in the doorway.

His eyes went wide for half a second. I froze, throat tight, body locked around him. He hadn’t knocked. He must have come back to grab something and heard the noise we were making. We must have forgotten to lock the door earlier when we’d gone over to chat with him and Ray in the morning.

For a breath we just locked eyes. I wanted to shout, to tell him to go, but Mason’s hand pinned my head down and Mason’s cock slammed forward, making me gasp instead. Mason didn’t stop; he just kept on hammering me hard. Taylor’s mouth parted slightly, like he might say something, then he just stood there. Watching.

Shame tore through me, but my gut still kicked, heat curling low where I didn’t want it. Taylor’s eyes weren’t disgusted. They weren’t mocking either. They were just
 steady. Like he couldn’t look away.

Mason finally caught the shift in the air. He glanced back over his shoulder and barked a laugh.

I groaned into the sheets, humiliated, but Mason didn’t stop. He shoved even harder, the bed squealing under us. Taylor blinked, stepped back once, then muttered, “Sorry,” and shut the door quick.

My whole body buzzed with embarrassment. Mason just chuckled and yanked my hips higher. “Don’t worry about it. He knows now.” His tone was smug, like it was some kind of victory. He spat on my back for lube and slammed forward.

I gritted my teeth, trying not to picture Taylor standing there, seeing me bent and raw with Mason on top of me. But I couldn’t stop the image. Couldn’t stop the heat that came with it either.

Mason’s pace picked up until his balls slapped against me with every thrust. He pulled me by the hair so my face tilted up, then shoved me back down into the mattress. My breath broke ragged.

“You love it like this,” he grunted. “Hard and dirty.”

His cock dragged deep, stuffing me, and my thighs trembled. I dug my fingers into the sheets, my chest slick with sweat against the covers. The sound of his groans grew sharper, closer.

He pulled out fast at the last second and shoved me flat so I couldn’t move. His hand pressed my head down while his other fist pumped his shaft hard. Warm streaks hit across my back and shoulders, hot against my skin. Mason groaned loud, shaking it out of himself until the last drips smeared across me.

“Perfect,” he said, breath rough. “No mess where it counts. You’ll be fine on the mats.”

I stayed there, face against the covers, chest heaving, back sticky with his load. My hole still twitched empty, stretched and raw. Shame burned through me, but under it a strange bubbly rush worked its way up too, the same dizzy hum I always felt after he used me rough.

Mason patted my ass like he’d finished a chore and went to grab a towel. I rolled to my side, pulling the sheets up to cover myself, but the image of Taylor standing in the doorway burned harder than anything. The way he looked at me before he left. Not disgusted. Not mocking. Just there.

I swallowed hard. If he told anyone, I would be mortified. Mason had been using me like I was his sex toy. But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Taylor was gay too. That had to mean something.

By the time we got back to the venue my body was loose, but my head was a mess. I could still feel Mason’s cum cooling on my back, even after I scrubbed at it with the towel. Every step back into the hall made my face heat like someone might smell it on me.

Casper’s voice cut through the din. “Focus, Eli. Run your set in your head.”

I nodded quick, trying to shake the static in my brain. The mats stretched out in front of me, bright under the overhead lights, every eye in the place pointed our way. My name echoed over the speakers and my chest clenched.

I chalked up my hands, dust rising in a cloud. My gut twisted hard, but my body knew the motions. Mount. Swing. Breathe. I moved through the routine, arms and legs obeying even as my brain lagged behind. The crowd blurred into a single wall of sound.

Then I saw him.

Taylor.

Front row of our section, leaning forward in his seat, eyes locked on me. The memory of him in the doorway slammed back. My knees almost buckled. For a split second I stumbled on the landing, breath caught, vision tunneling.

He didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch or smirk. He just gave me the smallest nod, steady, like he was reminding me where I was.

I latched onto it. Pulled myself upright, arms out. My muscles found the rhythm again. Twist. Catch. Push through the last hold. Stick the landing.

The hall erupted. My chest heaved, sweat running down my temple. I bowed quick, eyes darting back to Taylor. He was still watching me, same steady look, no judgment.

Mason clapped me on the back when I jogged off the mat. “See? Told you you’d be fine, Roomie.” He grinned like he had been right about everything.

But it wasn’t Mason’s words that carried me through that last stretch. It was Taylor.

The shame and nerves twisted together in my gut, but under it all was that same lightness I had felt yesterday, like maybe I really belonged here.

Dinner was held in one of the hotel’s banquet rooms. The food wasn’t anything special: overcooked chicken, dry pasta, vegetables steamed until they went limp. The team didn’t care. Plates clattered, voices rose over each other, and the energy was still buzzing from the day. Everyone had performed well. Even I felt a little glow from how my set had gone.

Mason was in his usual form, loud and cocky, bragging about how easy his landings were. Ray fired back at him, saying his own floor routine had the crowd hyped more. Taylor laughed at both of them, shaking his head. His eyes flicked over to me once, quick and unreadable, before turning back to his plate.

I tried to act normal, nodding along when the guys joked, but my mind kept circling back. The image of him in the doorway wouldn’t leave me. The way he had looked at me, steady and quiet and not mocking, stuck harder than the memory of Mason pounding me into the mattress.

Casper sat at the far end of the table with Coach Nelson, but his eyes found me once or twice. Just a flicker, but it made my chest tighten. He knew what Mason and I had done last night. He had been there. Now Taylor knew too.

All of it piled up in my head. The chant. Mason using my mouth. Casper’s hands. Mason bending me over again. Taylor catching me. Taylor nodding at me on the mat. It was a lot.

I pushed food around on my plate, appetite gone. The table noise blurred. All I could think was what the night might bring. Would Mason want more? Would Casper? What would Taylor do after what he saw?

The last thought made my throat go tight.

Coach raised his glass of water, gave some short speech about how proud he was of us and how this exhibition was only the beginning. Everyone cheered, Mason loudest of all. I lifted my glass too, but my mind wasn’t on the toast.

I was thinking about Taylor in the room next door. About Mason lying in bed already half hard by the time we got upstairs. About Casper with his keycard, walking in whenever he wanted.

I had no idea which of them I would end up with that night. Maybe all of them. Maybe none.

When I sat back down, my gut twisted. Not from nerves this time. From anticipation.

Thank you so much for reading my story; I hope you've enjoyed! If you'd like to read ahead in this story (currently at chapter 38 with 4 bonus chapters and a Casper PoV series), access extra content like images and bonus chapters or read my other stories you can do so here .

Follow me on X: @BBGayErotica or on Bluesky: bbgayerotica.bsky.social for more kinky fun!
You can also follow me on Instagram now to see some of the boys in my stories: instagram.com/brokenboundariesgayerotica/ or on Youtube: @BrokenBoundariesGayEnt
 
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