Desperate for Dick
The apartment door clicked shut behind Simon at 6:47 p.m. He kicked off his work shoes, dropped his backpack by the entryway, and exhaled the long day. His black button-up still smelled faintly of coffee and the citrus hand soap from the office bathroom. Underneath it all, though, was the low, insistent heat that had been simmering in his gut since lunch, since his man had sent him a photo while working out at the gym.
He padded into the living room in socked feet.
Rob was exactly where Simon had pictured him: sprawled on the big sectional, legs spread wide, grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, PS5 controller balanced on one thick thigh. The TV blasted stadium noise and trash talk. Rob’s headset mic hovered near his full lips; he was mid-laugh, voice deep and easy.
“Bro, you’re actually trash. How you miss that open net? I’m carrying,” Rob said, grinning, eyes locked on the screen.
Simon’s cock gave a hopeful twitch inside his slim chinos.
He crossed the room quietly, came around the side of the sofa, and leaned down. Rob’s dark hair was still damp from the post-gym shower he must’ve taken before spending the afternoon playing FIFA with his buddies. Simon pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth.
Rob tilted his head just enough to meet it, quick, distracted, then turned back to the game.
“Rob,” Simon murmured against his jaw, sliding a hand up the warm slab of Rob’s chest under the faded team hoodie.
“Mmm. One sec, yeah?” Rob muttered, thumbs flying over the controller. “Let me just finish this game. We’re up 3–2.”
Simon exhaled through his nose, half-frustrated, half-turned on by how unbothered Rob could be. He straightened, considered sulking for about three seconds, then decided fuck it.
He dropped to his knees between Rob’s spread thighs.
Rob didn’t look down at first. Simon could hear the tinny echo of his friends through the headset, shouting, laughing, calling Rob’s name.
Simon pressed his face right into the fat, soft bulge trapped behind thin grey cotton. The heat hit him immediately, musky and familiar, that perfect post-shower-and-sweat cocktail that always made his mouth water. He nuzzled harder, nose dragging along the thick outline, lips parting so he could mouth at it through the fabric. The dick underneath twitched once, then started to thicken.
Rob’s thighs tensed.
Simon looked up.
Rob’s eyes flicked down, only for a second, pupils already blown. He gave one small, sharp nod.
Permission.
Simon hooked two fingers into the waistband and tugged the sweatpants down just enough. Rob’s cock sprang free, heavy and half-hard, the foreskin still mostly covering the flushed head. Simon didn’t waste time. He wrapped his lips around the tip, tongue swirling under the skin, coaxing it back as he sucked gently. Then he pulled off with a wet sound and dragged the thickening shaft across his cheek, over his nose, letting the heat and the smell sink into him. Musk, clean skin, a faint trace of body wash. Heaven.
He took Rob deeper.
Rob’s abs flexed. One hand stayed glued to the controller; the other dropped to Simon’s hair, not pushing, just holding, fingers curling tight.
“Fuu, yeah, pass it, pass it,” Rob said into the mic, voice cracking on the second syllable.
Simon hollowed his cheeks and bobbed, slow at first, then faster. He could feel Rob fighting it, the way his breath hitched, the way his hips jerked once before he forced them still. Every few strokes Simon pulled back to lap at the slit, letting spit slick the shaft so it glistened.
“Bro, you good?” came a voice through the headset, tinny but concerned. “You sound… weird.”
Rob swallowed hard. “Yeah, yeah, just helping Si with something. Keep playing.”
Simon smirked around the cock in his mouth and took him to the back of his throat.
Rob’s fingers tightened in his hair. A low, choked moan slipped out before he could catch it.
“Yo, what the fuck was that?” another voice laughed.
“Shut up, man,” Rob managed, voice strained. “Focus on the game.”
Simon doubled down, suction tight, tongue working the underside, one hand cupping Rob’s balls and rolling them gently. He could feel them drawing up, could feel the telltale throb against his tongue.
Rob’s hips punched forward once, twice, then froze.
“Fuck, fuck,” Rob breathed, barely audible.
Simon pulled back just enough to keep the head on his tongue and looked up again.
Rob was staring down at him, jaw clenched, eyes glassy. He gave the tiniest nod.
Simon sank all the way down until his nose was buried in the trimmed hair at the base and swallowed around him.
Rob came with a full-body shudder. Hot pulses hit the back of Simon’s throat; he swallowed greedily, milking every drop while Rob’s fingers spasmed in his hair. A few muffled grunts leaked into the mic despite Rob’s best efforts.
The headset crackled with laughter and jeering.
“Bruh. You definitely just nutted.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rob panted, voice shaky. “I’m, I’m good. Just gimme a sec.”
Simon slowly pulled off, licking his lips, chin shiny. He stayed on his knees for a moment, admiring the way Rob’s cock still twitched against his abs, slick and spent.
Then he climbed up.
He straddled Rob’s lap in one smooth motion, knees bracketing his hips. His own erection was painful now, trapped in his work pants. He rolled his hips once, grinding down against the sensitive dick beneath him.
Rob hissed.
“Si,” Rob whispered, mouthing along his jaw. “The game”
“That was really hot. But it wasn’t enough.”
Rob’s hands finally dropped the controller. It clattered onto the cushion. He gripped Simon’s ass with both hands, pulling him closer.
“Yeah?” Rob’s voice was gravel. “What do you need, Si?”
Simon rocked again, harder. “Need you inside me. Right now.”
Rob groaned low in his throat.
The headset was still on. Voices were still chattering.
“Yo Rob, you coming back or what?”
Rob reached up, yanked the headset off, and tossed it onto the coffee table. The chat exploded, laughing, yelling, someone chanting “get it get it get it.”
Rob ignored them.
He grabbed Simon’s face with both hands and kissed him filthy, tongue deep, tasting himself on Simon’s mouth. Simon moaned into it, grinding shamelessly.
“Bedroom?” Rob muttered against his lips.
“No,” Simon breathed. “Here. Couch. Now.”
Rob’s eyes darkened. “You’re gonna make me mute the whole squad?”
“Tell them you have to go,” Simon said, already fumbling with his belt. “Tell them your boyfriend needs to get fucked.”
Rob laughed once, short, rough, then leaned forward and bit Simon’s lower lip.
He reached for the headset again, slipped it back on just long enough to speak.
“Lads, sorry. Gotta bounce. My boy needs me.”
A chorus of hoots and “fucking finally” and “get that twink” erupted.
Rob ripped the headset off, powered the console down with one jab of his thumb, and threw Simon backward onto the cushions.
Clothes came off in a frantic blur, chinos yanked down, briefs dragged with them, hoodie tossed, sweatpants kicked somewhere behind the sofa.
Rob loomed over him, broad shoulders blocking the light from the floor lamp, cock already hardening again.
Simon spread his legs, hooked one ankle behind Rob’s back, and pulled.
“Fuck me like you mean it,” he said, voice urgent with want.
Rob grinned, sharp, predatory, and reached for the lube bottle they kept in the side-table drawer. He slicked himself up slowly, deliberately, eyes never leaving Simon’s flushed face.
Then he leaned down, voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble right against Simon’s ear.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Si. So fucking greedy. You couldn’t even wait till the match was over. Interrupted my game, got me hard in front of the lads, swallowed me down like you were starving. Now they’re all going to be ribbing me for weeks.” Rob’s big hand slid under Simon’s thigh, lifting it higher, spreading him wider. “Greedy little sluts need to be punished.”
Before Simon could answer, Rob’s palm cracked down hard on one bare ass cheek. The sharp sting bloomed instantly, hot and bright. Simon gasped, back arching off the cushions.
Rob did it again, harder, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. Simon’s cock jerked against his stomach, leaking.
“Count them,” Rob ordered, voice thick.
“One… two…” Simon managed, voice shaking.
Another smack, this one lower, catching the sensitive underside of his ass. Simon whimpered.
“Three.”
Rob rubbed the reddening skin roughly, then lined himself up, thick head nudging Simon’s entrance.
“Gonna tear you up now, Si,” he growled, thrusting in slow and deep in one long, unrelenting push. “And you’re gonna take every inch while you scream my name… and thank me for punishing you.”
Simon’s head fell back against the armrest, mouth open on a broken moan.
He was already shaking.
And Rob had only just started.
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The apartment door clicked shut behind Simon at 6:47 p.m. He kicked off his work shoes, dropped his backpack by the entryway, and exhaled the long day. His black button-up still smelled faintly of coffee and the citrus hand soap from the office bathroom. Underneath it all, though, was the low, insistent heat that had been simmering in his gut since lunch, since his man had sent him a photo while working out at the gym.
He padded into the living room in socked feet.
Rob was exactly where Simon had pictured him: sprawled on the big sectional, legs spread wide, grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, PS5 controller balanced on one thick thigh. The TV blasted stadium noise and trash talk. Rob’s headset mic hovered near his full lips; he was mid-laugh, voice deep and easy.
“Bro, you’re actually trash. How you miss that open net? I’m carrying,” Rob said, grinning, eyes locked on the screen.
Simon’s cock gave a hopeful twitch inside his slim chinos.
He crossed the room quietly, came around the side of the sofa, and leaned down. Rob’s dark hair was still damp from the post-gym shower he must’ve taken before spending the afternoon playing FIFA with his buddies. Simon pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth.
Rob tilted his head just enough to meet it, quick, distracted, then turned back to the game.
“Rob,” Simon murmured against his jaw, sliding a hand up the warm slab of Rob’s chest under the faded team hoodie.
“Mmm. One sec, yeah?” Rob muttered, thumbs flying over the controller. “Let me just finish this game. We’re up 3–2.”
Simon exhaled through his nose, half-frustrated, half-turned on by how unbothered Rob could be. He straightened, considered sulking for about three seconds, then decided fuck it.
He dropped to his knees between Rob’s spread thighs.
Rob didn’t look down at first. Simon could hear the tinny echo of his friends through the headset, shouting, laughing, calling Rob’s name.
Simon pressed his face right into the fat, soft bulge trapped behind thin grey cotton. The heat hit him immediately, musky and familiar, that perfect post-shower-and-sweat cocktail that always made his mouth water. He nuzzled harder, nose dragging along the thick outline, lips parting so he could mouth at it through the fabric. The dick underneath twitched once, then started to thicken.
Rob’s thighs tensed.
Simon looked up.
Rob’s eyes flicked down, only for a second, pupils already blown. He gave one small, sharp nod.
Permission.
Simon hooked two fingers into the waistband and tugged the sweatpants down just enough. Rob’s cock sprang free, heavy and half-hard, the foreskin still mostly covering the flushed head. Simon didn’t waste time. He wrapped his lips around the tip, tongue swirling under the skin, coaxing it back as he sucked gently. Then he pulled off with a wet sound and dragged the thickening shaft across his cheek, over his nose, letting the heat and the smell sink into him. Musk, clean skin, a faint trace of body wash. Heaven.
He took Rob deeper.
Rob’s abs flexed. One hand stayed glued to the controller; the other dropped to Simon’s hair, not pushing, just holding, fingers curling tight.
“Fuu, yeah, pass it, pass it,” Rob said into the mic, voice cracking on the second syllable.
Simon hollowed his cheeks and bobbed, slow at first, then faster. He could feel Rob fighting it, the way his breath hitched, the way his hips jerked once before he forced them still. Every few strokes Simon pulled back to lap at the slit, letting spit slick the shaft so it glistened.
“Bro, you good?” came a voice through the headset, tinny but concerned. “You sound… weird.”
Rob swallowed hard. “Yeah, yeah, just helping Si with something. Keep playing.”
Simon smirked around the cock in his mouth and took him to the back of his throat.
Rob’s fingers tightened in his hair. A low, choked moan slipped out before he could catch it.
“Yo, what the fuck was that?” another voice laughed.
“Shut up, man,” Rob managed, voice strained. “Focus on the game.”
Simon doubled down, suction tight, tongue working the underside, one hand cupping Rob’s balls and rolling them gently. He could feel them drawing up, could feel the telltale throb against his tongue.
Rob’s hips punched forward once, twice, then froze.
“Fuck, fuck,” Rob breathed, barely audible.
Simon pulled back just enough to keep the head on his tongue and looked up again.
Rob was staring down at him, jaw clenched, eyes glassy. He gave the tiniest nod.
Simon sank all the way down until his nose was buried in the trimmed hair at the base and swallowed around him.
Rob came with a full-body shudder. Hot pulses hit the back of Simon’s throat; he swallowed greedily, milking every drop while Rob’s fingers spasmed in his hair. A few muffled grunts leaked into the mic despite Rob’s best efforts.
The headset crackled with laughter and jeering.
“Bruh. You definitely just nutted.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Rob panted, voice shaky. “I’m, I’m good. Just gimme a sec.”
Simon slowly pulled off, licking his lips, chin shiny. He stayed on his knees for a moment, admiring the way Rob’s cock still twitched against his abs, slick and spent.
Then he climbed up.
He straddled Rob’s lap in one smooth motion, knees bracketing his hips. His own erection was painful now, trapped in his work pants. He rolled his hips once, grinding down against the sensitive dick beneath him.
Rob hissed.
“Si,” Rob whispered, mouthing along his jaw. “The game”
“That was really hot. But it wasn’t enough.”
Rob’s hands finally dropped the controller. It clattered onto the cushion. He gripped Simon’s ass with both hands, pulling him closer.
“Yeah?” Rob’s voice was gravel. “What do you need, Si?”
Simon rocked again, harder. “Need you inside me. Right now.”
Rob groaned low in his throat.
The headset was still on. Voices were still chattering.
“Yo Rob, you coming back or what?”
Rob reached up, yanked the headset off, and tossed it onto the coffee table. The chat exploded, laughing, yelling, someone chanting “get it get it get it.”
Rob ignored them.
He grabbed Simon’s face with both hands and kissed him filthy, tongue deep, tasting himself on Simon’s mouth. Simon moaned into it, grinding shamelessly.
“Bedroom?” Rob muttered against his lips.
“No,” Simon breathed. “Here. Couch. Now.”
Rob’s eyes darkened. “You’re gonna make me mute the whole squad?”
“Tell them you have to go,” Simon said, already fumbling with his belt. “Tell them your boyfriend needs to get fucked.”
Rob laughed once, short, rough, then leaned forward and bit Simon’s lower lip.
He reached for the headset again, slipped it back on just long enough to speak.
“Lads, sorry. Gotta bounce. My boy needs me.”
A chorus of hoots and “fucking finally” and “get that twink” erupted.
Rob ripped the headset off, powered the console down with one jab of his thumb, and threw Simon backward onto the cushions.
Clothes came off in a frantic blur, chinos yanked down, briefs dragged with them, hoodie tossed, sweatpants kicked somewhere behind the sofa.
Rob loomed over him, broad shoulders blocking the light from the floor lamp, cock already hardening again.
Simon spread his legs, hooked one ankle behind Rob’s back, and pulled.
“Fuck me like you mean it,” he said, voice urgent with want.
Rob grinned, sharp, predatory, and reached for the lube bottle they kept in the side-table drawer. He slicked himself up slowly, deliberately, eyes never leaving Simon’s flushed face.
Then he leaned down, voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble right against Simon’s ear.
“You’ve been a bad boy, Si. So fucking greedy. You couldn’t even wait till the match was over. Interrupted my game, got me hard in front of the lads, swallowed me down like you were starving. Now they’re all going to be ribbing me for weeks.” Rob’s big hand slid under Simon’s thigh, lifting it higher, spreading him wider. “Greedy little sluts need to be punished.”
Before Simon could answer, Rob’s palm cracked down hard on one bare ass cheek. The sharp sting bloomed instantly, hot and bright. Simon gasped, back arching off the cushions.
Rob did it again, harder, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. Simon’s cock jerked against his stomach, leaking.
“Count them,” Rob ordered, voice thick.
“One… two…” Simon managed, voice shaking.
Another smack, this one lower, catching the sensitive underside of his ass. Simon whimpered.
“Three.”
Rob rubbed the reddening skin roughly, then lined himself up, thick head nudging Simon’s entrance.
“Gonna tear you up now, Si,” he growled, thrusting in slow and deep in one long, unrelenting push. “And you’re gonna take every inch while you scream my name… and thank me for punishing you.”
Simon’s head fell back against the armrest, mouth open on a broken moan.
He was already shaking.
And Rob had only just started.
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