That was hot as fuck! Great writing!Here is the last part of the story:
Everyone is 18+ and everything is fully consensual.
⸻
The next day, I stayed in bed most of the afternoon. Just scrolling. Half hard. Still tasting him in my memory.
Sun through the blinds. One leg under the sheet. One out. My cock was draped left, soft but heavy, twitching now and then. I kept thinking about how much he gave me. How deep he went. How fucking desperate he got when I told him he couldn’t cum.
Then came the knock. Soft. Hesitant.
The door opened before I answered. Jake stood there. Hoodie half-zipped. Gym shorts tenting forward like he didn’t even try to hide it. His hair was damp. Lips flushed.
He looked at me like he was still holding the moment in his mouth. Then: “You said guys don’t just suck.” I didn’t say anything.
He stepped in. Closed the door. “I wanna know what else,” he said. I still didn’t answer. Just watched him.
He came closer. Knee on the bed. Then the other. “I wanna make you feel good.”
His hand landed on my back. Bare. Warm. Trailed lower. Hesitated at my waist. Then slipped down to my ass.
I didn’t move. Just let him touch.
He bent and kissed the middle of my back. Soft, unsure. Then lower. Then again.
When he reached the top of my ass, he paused. Breath thick. Then I felt his hands spread me. Gently. No rush. Just… wonder.
He looked for a long time. Didn’t say a word.
Then his breath hit me — hot. And his tongue.
I exhaled hard into the mattress. His tongue circled once. Then again. He groaned. Actually groaned — just from eating me.
I started leaking. Didn’t even stroke.
He got bolder. Mouthed me open. Got wet with it. His nose pressed down, tongue flattened, spit soaking me. He kissed deeper, sloppier. Hands spreading me wider.
Then I felt a finger. Shaky. Careful.
I lifted my hips slightly, gave him access. He spit again. Then tried. Didn’t rush it. Just eased in. Watched me.
I moaned. “Curl your finger.” He did.
The sound I made… My whole body lifted. Fucked myself back on it.
He kept fingering slow, mouth still working, like he wanted to memorize how to open me.
Then: “I wanna suck you now.”
He flipped me over. Went straight for my cock.
His mouth was hotter than I expected. Tongue sloppy. Messy kisses, then lips wrapping around the head like he was starving.
He gagged once. Pulled off. Tried again.
He wasn’t good. But he was hungry. And that did something to me.
I started panting. Moaning low. My cock twitching against his tongue. He got braver. Sucked deeper. One hand on my thigh, the other on my hip.
I warned him. “I’m close.”
He didn’t stop. Just sucked harder.
But I didn’t cum.
Not yet.
Because Jake pulled off, wiped his mouth, looked at me like he was about to beg — then climbed over me. Knees spread. Shorts down.
His cock was flushed. Hard. Thick and curved upward. Bigger than I’d seen yesterday.
He lined himself up and paused. Breathing heavy. “Have you ever…?” He shook his head.
My whole body went still. I reached down, guided him. “Go slow.”
He nodded. Pressed in.
The head stretched me wide — just that alone had me gripping the sheets. He gasped. “Fuck—”
“Keep going.”
He pushed deeper. Inch by inch.
His thighs were shaking. His mouth open. When he bottomed out, I cried out into the pillow.
“Too much?” “No. Just—stay.”
He held still. Trembling inside me.
Then started to move.
Tiny thrusts. Unsure. Careful. His cock dragged across my prostate every time — that curve hitting the exact spot.
My legs spread wider. I reached back. Gripped his thigh.
“Just like that.”
He started breathing harder. Still hesitant. Still new.
But then something changed.
His hand found my hip. Gripped harder. His thrusts deepened.
He found a rhythm. Then took control.
The next one slammed deep. I gasped.
Another. Harder.
He started pounding. The bed rocked. His balls slapped loud against me.
I couldn’t think. Just moaned.
My cock was leaking.
Then it hit — That sudden electric burn inside me. Prostate swelling. Whole body shaking.
I came.
No hands. Just spasms.
Cum sprayed my chest, my neck. My legs kicked. Jake didn’t stop.
He fucked me through it. Fucked me harder.
Then he growled — “Fuck—I’m—”
And came.
His cock throbbed deep. Spurt after spurt after spurt.
I felt it fill me. Then spill out around him. Hot. Sticky. Pouring down my crack as he pulsed inside.
He stayed there. Buried. Breathing ragged.
Then collapsed on top of me.
Still inside. Still dripping.
And I couldn’t stop smiling. ——
This is the last part of my my encounters with Jake
I sucked my younger brothers straight buddy off the day after he turned 18🥵💦
- Thread starter Zaneb
- Start date
Excellent ! Well doneHere is the last part of the story:
Everyone is 18+ and everything is fully consensual.
⸻
The next day, I stayed in bed most of the afternoon. Just scrolling. Half hard. Still tasting him in my memory.
Sun through the blinds. One leg under the sheet. One out. My cock was draped left, soft but heavy, twitching now and then. I kept thinking about how much he gave me. How deep he went. How fucking desperate he got when I told him he couldn’t cum.
Then came the knock. Soft. Hesitant.
The door opened before I answered. Jake stood there. Hoodie half-zipped. Gym shorts tenting forward like he didn’t even try to hide it. His hair was damp. Lips flushed.
He looked at me like he was still holding the moment in his mouth. Then: “You said guys don’t just suck.” I didn’t say anything.
He stepped in. Closed the door. “I wanna know what else,” he said. I still didn’t answer. Just watched him.
He came closer. Knee on the bed. Then the other. “I wanna make you feel good.”
His hand landed on my back. Bare. Warm. Trailed lower. Hesitated at my waist. Then slipped down to my ass.
I didn’t move. Just let him touch.
He bent and kissed the middle of my back. Soft, unsure. Then lower. Then again.
When he reached the top of my ass, he paused. Breath thick. Then I felt his hands spread me. Gently. No rush. Just… wonder.
He looked for a long time. Didn’t say a word.
Then his breath hit me — hot. And his tongue.
I exhaled hard into the mattress. His tongue circled once. Then again. He groaned. Actually groaned — just from eating me.
I started leaking. Didn’t even stroke.
He got bolder. Mouthed me open. Got wet with it. His nose pressed down, tongue flattened, spit soaking me. He kissed deeper, sloppier. Hands spreading me wider.
Then I felt a finger. Shaky. Careful.
I lifted my hips slightly, gave him access. He spit again. Then tried. Didn’t rush it. Just eased in. Watched me.
I moaned. “Curl your finger.” He did.
The sound I made… My whole body lifted. Fucked myself back on it.
He kept fingering slow, mouth still working, like he wanted to memorize how to open me.
Then: “I wanna suck you now.”
He flipped me over. Went straight for my cock.
His mouth was hotter than I expected. Tongue sloppy. Messy kisses, then lips wrapping around the head like he was starving.
He gagged once. Pulled off. Tried again.
He wasn’t good. But he was hungry. And that did something to me.
I started panting. Moaning low. My cock twitching against his tongue. He got braver. Sucked deeper. One hand on my thigh, the other on my hip.
I warned him. “I’m close.”
He didn’t stop. Just sucked harder.
But I didn’t cum.
Not yet.
Because Jake pulled off, wiped his mouth, looked at me like he was about to beg — then climbed over me. Knees spread. Shorts down.
His cock was flushed. Hard. Thick and curved upward. Bigger than I’d seen yesterday.
He lined himself up and paused. Breathing heavy. “Have you ever…?” He shook his head.
My whole body went still. I reached down, guided him. “Go slow.”
He nodded. Pressed in.
The head stretched me wide — just that alone had me gripping the sheets. He gasped. “Fuck—”
“Keep going.”
He pushed deeper. Inch by inch.
His thighs were shaking. His mouth open. When he bottomed out, I cried out into the pillow.
“Too much?” “No. Just—stay.”
He held still. Trembling inside me.
Then started to move.
Tiny thrusts. Unsure. Careful. His cock dragged across my prostate every time — that curve hitting the exact spot.
My legs spread wider. I reached back. Gripped his thigh.
“Just like that.”
He started breathing harder. Still hesitant. Still new.
But then something changed.
His hand found my hip. Gripped harder. His thrusts deepened.
He found a rhythm. Then took control.
The next one slammed deep. I gasped.
Another. Harder.
He started pounding. The bed rocked. His balls slapped loud against me.
I couldn’t think. Just moaned.
My cock was leaking.
Then it hit — That sudden electric burn inside me. Prostate swelling. Whole body shaking.
I came.
No hands. Just spasms.
Cum sprayed my chest, my neck. My legs kicked. Jake didn’t stop.
He fucked me through it. Fucked me harder.
Then he growled — “Fuck—I’m—”
And came.
His cock throbbed deep. Spurt after spurt after spurt.
I felt it fill me. Then spill out around him. Hot. Sticky. Pouring down my crack as he pulsed inside.
He stayed there. Buried. Breathing ragged.
Then collapsed on top of me.
Still inside. Still dripping.
And I couldn’t stop smiling. ——
This is the last part of my my encounters with Jake
Really well written! I am obsessed with the line "Jake was drinking Gatorade like it was holy."
Fuck! That was hot. I wish there was more... I think Jake was ready to bottom too 
especially after his reaction to the finger in his ass
especially after his reaction to the finger in his ass Wow. Outstanding. I can see Jake, and want him. And you.This is based on my own experience a couple of years ago!
Everyone is 18+ and everything is fully consensual.
I didn’t know he just turned eighteen!
He’d been around a while — sometimes crashing on our couch after parties, grabbing snacks from the kitchen without asking, walking around in those loose-ass basketball shorts that showed more thigh than most guys ever should.
And the way he carried himself — that slow, lazy confidence — had me convinced he was at least twenty-one. Always cocky, always a little too familiar. Never called me bro. Never called me sir. Just said my name in this low, offhand way — confident, practiced, completely sure how it would sound leaving his mouth.
That afternoon started normal. My brother had practice, so the house was quiet, just the buzz of summer heat slipping through the windows. I came into the kitchen and found him standing at the fridge shirtless, pouring juice straight from the carton with one hand, the other braced against the door.
“Didn’t know you were still here,” I said.
He glanced over, grinned. “You always this friendly to your guests?”
He had this way of looking — chin tilted slightly down, eyes tilted up — scanning, reading, holding. Measuring whether I’d meet it.
I stayed cool. Shrugged. “Depends on the guest.”
He smirked, licked a drop of juice from his lip, and leaned against the counter with the kind of ease that said he felt at home in my space. His torso stretched long and lean, muscles loose under smooth skin. Not built, but tight. That basketball-player kind of tight. Soft lines, strong legs. The shorts hung low. No boxers. No shame.
He held the carton out. “You want?”
“I’m good.”
He took another sip. Then, after a beat:
“You ever get bored of guys just asking if you’re a top or a bottom?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Depends on what they actually want to do.”
He laughed. “Fair.”
Another pause. He tapped the carton with one finger.
“So… how do blowjobs work between guys? Is it just… whoever’s more into it?”
I watched him carefully. “You asking for a friend?”
He grinned, but didn’t answer.
Then: “Nah, I’m serious. Do gay guys just automatically give better head?”
I tilted my head. “Why, you comparing notes?”
He shrugged, but I caught the flush rising across his chest.
“Just heard stuff. Girls don’t do the twist thing. Or use tongue right.”
I smirked. “And you think gay guys figured it out?”
He looked down at the counter, then back at me. “I mean… did you?”
I stepped closer, just enough that I could see his breath catch.
“Try me.”
He blinked once, but held his ground. “Maybe I will.”
That maybe landed heavy between us. It didn’t go anywhere.
Then he added: “My birthday was yesterday.”
I paused. “Yesterday?”
He nodded.
“Eighteen,” he said. “Finally legal.”
Something in my chest flickered hot.
I’d figured him for older. Nineteen, maybe twenty. The way he walked around shirtless, helped himself to our food, asked bold questions without blinking — none of it came across as someone still figuring things out.
But there he was. Standing half-naked in my kitchen, saying it straight.
I didn’t say anything else. Neither did he.
Just drained the rest of the juice and disappeared down the hall.
I should’ve left it at that.
But twenty minutes later, walking past my brother’s room, I caught him again.
Door half-cracked. No sound, but the glow of a phone screen lit the bed. He was stretched out — one arm tucked behind his head, the other deep in his shorts. The waistband was low. His hips shifted just enough that I caught the rhythm of his hand.
And the video?
Two guys. One kneeling. Wet sounds, slow sucking, no rush.
He saw me. Held the stare.
“Gonna watch?” he asked.
I stepped closer. “You’re really watching that?”
“Just curious.”
“Thought you were straight.”
He didn’t argue. Just let his lips part slightly and eased his shorts lower.
His cock fell free — thick, flushed, hard. Precum already glistening at the tip.
I crossed the threshold.
“Ever had this from a guy?”
He shook his head.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
I sat on the edge of the bed. Let my fingers trace his thigh. Warm skin. A little sweat. His breath started catching, chest rising.
“You won’t forget this,” I said.
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t move away.
I leaned down.
Kissed the base.
Ran my tongue up the underside, tracing the vein to the head. His whole body stiffened. First gasp cracked loose from his throat.
“Fuck…”
I smiled against his skin, lips wrapping around the tip, tongue teasing slow.
He groaned. Legs shifted wide.
“Jesus…”
He reached for the sheets, then my shoulder, then back again. Hands unsure. He was already losing control and I’d barely started.
“God—your mouth…”
I took more.
Eased him deeper, letting spit drip from the corners. Sucked slow. Messy. Focused.
His hips jolted. One hand landed in my hair.
“Please don’t stop.”
I didn’t.
I hollowed my cheeks, twisted gently at the base, kept the pressure tight. Tongue working under and around him. Every pull pulled a new sound from his chest.
“Fuck, that’s insane—how are you—fuck…”
I took him all the way.
Throat open, nose brushing skin, held him down.
He groaned hard. One leg kicked under the sheet.
I pulled off, spit stringing from my lips, and eased right back down. This time slower. Deeper. Letting the head rest at the back of my throat while my tongue massaged the shaft in soft, rhythmic waves.
Jake whimpered.
Actually whimpered.
Then muttered something under his breath — low and slurred — I caught fragments of it.
“What the fuck… that’s so good… can’t fucking think…”
His fingers twisted tighter into my hair.
I stayed down longer this time. Let him feel the shape of my throat, the pressure of the seal around him. Then pulled up slow, dragging my tongue the entire way, flicking under the head as I came off with a wet, open-mouthed kiss.
“Fuck me—” His voice cracked. “Holy shit…”
I licked around the tip, lips brushing lightly, teasing him until his thighs started to tremble again.
Then I let a string of spit drip from my mouth onto the head and twisted my hand at the base while I sucked him back in, cheeks hollowed, tongue fluttering just under the ridge.
“Please—fuck—please don’t stop…”
He was shaking now. Whining. His whole body on edge. I pressed my other hand flat to his belly to keep him from bucking. I could feel how tight his abs were, how close he was, how desperate.
Every time he tried to breathe, he just moaned instead.
And still I kept going.
Down to the root. Back up. Tongue. Spit. Pressure. Worship.
I heard him gasp my name — not loud, not sure he even meant to say it. Just this breathless, broken little “f—fuck, Zayn…”
That’s when I knew he was gone.
“Jake,” I murmured against the base of his cock, “you ever been edged before?”
He just shook his head wildly, hands gripping whatever they could.
“Then hold it,” I whispered, mouth still open on him. “I’m not done.”
He let out this strangled moan and bit down on the edge of the pillow.
I backed off again. Let him breathe for half a second. Then went back in, faster now. Tongue swirling. Lips sealed. Spit running down to my fist as I stroked what I couldn’t take.
Jake’s hips kept trying to rise but I kept him pinned.
“Jesus—please—I can’t—fuck—”
His body was spasming.
Chest red. Neck tight. Sweat rolling down his sides.
I locked my mouth around him one more time. One hard, perfect pull.
And that was it.
He came.
Loud. Sudden. Wild.
His whole body lifted off the bed as the first shot hit my throat. Then another. Then another. I kept swallowing, sucking, draining him until he went completely limp under me, legs wide, arms trembling, chest still rising like he couldn’t believe what just happened.
When I finally pulled off, his cock twitched once more against his thigh. I licked it clean and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
Jake was still gasping.
Eyes glazed. Lips parted. Sweat pooling under his shoulder blades.
I sat back on my heels and waited.
Then — after a long silence — he looked at me and whispered:
“What the fuck was that…”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You alright?”
He swallowed. Nodded once.
“I don’t think anyone’s ever gonna top that.”
“You mean no one’s ever going to suck your cock like that again,” I said.
His eyes flicked to mine.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
He already knew the truth.
He pulled his shorts up, still dazed. Got to the door. Turned back.
“You around tomorrow?”
I nodded. “I will be.”
He held my eyes for a beat.
Then walked out — slower than usual. Limbs loose. Cock still twitching in those thin-ass shorts.
⸻
Thank you for reading. Please leave feedback if you likeIf you want to know what happened next let me know!
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Holy shit! That story was so amazing, made me so hard & horny...had to jackoff and then exploded all over my chest!
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Tell us why part 3 was the last time you did it with him. And what’s he been up to since? Have you two kept in touch? Did he come out as bi/gay/pan soon after? Why was that the last time???
Also… how old were YOU during this time? He’d just turned 18… Were you 19? 20?
Also… how old were YOU during this time? He’d just turned 18… Were you 19? 20?
