Distant muffled shouts and a faint clanging pulled me up from the depths of sleep.
I opened my eyes and the bright sunlight streaming through the half-open curtains nearly blinded me. I groaned and heaved onto my front, half burying my face in the pillow.
I lifted my head and realized I wasn’t in my bed. Huh? I turned onto my side and gazed around the room. It took me a few seconds to remember that I was at Jon’s parents’ house and that this was the guest room.
I rolled onto my back and threw the sheets off. Why was I naked and what was all this gunk all over my stomach and chest? I ran my hand across my belly; it felt tacky and gummy. I sniffed it. Wha-- the events of last night began to tumble into place. Oh shit. Jon had invited Ja--
Grunts and what sounded like chains rattling drifted down from upstairs and I sat bolt upright. What the hell? Realization hit me full force-- Jon!
I jumped out of bed, immediately regretting the action. My head throbbed and I was sore from head to toe and everywhere in between. E-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e. Ohhhhhhh… fuck!
The Levi’s I’d worn Friday night were draped over the chair and I reached for them, pulling them on, not bothering with underwear. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and, verifying it still had a charge, slipped it into my back pocket. Then I rifled through my overnight bag and found my Glock. I didn’t know if Jason and Austin were still in the house, and if they were, whether or not they were armed.
I stepped into the hall, gun at low ready, safety thumbed off, and cleared each room on the first floor before I made my way upstairs. The noises were louder now - more frantic - and were coming from Jon’s bedroom. My gut told me Jason and Austin were gone so I rushed to the room… and froze in the doorway.
It was just like my dream from Friday night, except it was Jon trussed up instead of me. His legs were spread about three feet apart in a “V” formation, cuffed in leather bindings that were attached to a metal rod that hung suspended by a chain from the bed’s wrought iron canopy at a 45 degree angle. His arms were pulled up in the air, wrists similarly cuffed and fastened to the canopy. My eyes were immediately drawn to his exposed armpits and the tangled forest of sweat-matted hair, and I had to make myself focus.
His black Calvin Klein briefs - the pair he’d been wearing since Friday morning and that he’d shot at least one load into - had been pulled over his head like a mask, the cum-crusted pouch covering his nose and mouth. He was wearing my underwear and there was what looked like a tail attached to the seat of the briefs. However, when I stepped closer, I saw that the tail actually protruded from a small slit cut into the fabric and was part of a butt plug. Holy shit! Jon had a butt plug in his ass!
“Jon!”
He went still, then started to frantically pull at his bonds, his head thrashing back and forth as his muffled voice cried out. “Kehin?! Keh?”
I set my gun down on the nightstand and pulled the underwear off his head. He was wide-eyed, hair disheveled, face matted and crusty. Dried tears streaked his face, leaving track marks in the caked cum and spit. There was a gag in his mouth.
“Easy,” I said as I dropped the briefs and reached around his head to unbuckle the strap that held the gag in place.
“Kevin,” he gasped when I eased the long rubber penis from his mouth. He worked his jaw. “What the fuck?! What the hell happened?”
I stood and freed his arms and he gratefully shook them out and then began rubbing them. I moved to undo the leg restraints and gently lowered his shaking limbs. The briefs he was wearing were sopping wet with cum but I couldn’t tell if it was pre-cum or if he’d actually shot a couple of loads into them. The thin white cotton was nearly translucent and I could see not only his erection, but his circumcision scar as well.
“There’s” - I cleared my throat - “a, um… butt plug--”
“I feel it,” he groaned as he rolled to his side and reached for it. “Ouch! Oh fuck, can you get it out, Kev?”
“Um…” I wasn’t sure what the protocol was to remove a butt plug from your partner’s ass. I touched it gently.
“Stop,” Jon gasped, pain creasing his face. “It hurts.”
I peered closer and noticed the skin around his hole was dry. I turned to the nightstand and saw it was cluttered with condoms, lube, and a bottle of poppers.
“I’m going to use some lube,” I said as I reached for the tube of Astroglide. “Get up on all fours.”
Jon did as he was told but his arms were weak and he ended up collapsed onto them, his ass high in the air and the white briefs stretched tautly across those firm globes. The pink tail wagged with every move he made.
I pulled my phone out of my back pocket, silenced it, and snapped a picture. Yes, I was going to hell.
I squeezed some lube onto my fingers and gently dabbed at the base of the rubber plug, coating it as well as I could along with the tender skin of Jon’s well-fucked, abused hole.
When I felt it was sufficiently greased, I touched the butt plug and Jon instantly clenched. “You need to relax,” I said as I stroked his flank to gentle him.
“Fucking easy for you to say,” he snapped, his face screwed up in a grimace. “You’re not the one with a Titan missile crammed up his ass.” I thought back to last night when Austin had fucked me with his own Titan missile and I almost said something.
Jon glanced at the bedside table. “Give me the poppers.”
“What?”
“I said, give me the fucking poppers!” I could see the pain etched in his face, the deep furrows in his forehead, and I grabbed them, scrambling to uncap them. I put them to his nose but he held his hand out for them. “Give them to me,” he ground out, his tone harsh.
I nodded and placed them in his hand. He immediately took a long snort and then another. I remembered his reaction to them last night - fuck, was it only last night? - and when I saw them begin to take effect I gently eased them from his grasp, coaxed him into a couple more hits, and put them on the stand.
I squirted a bit more lube onto the butt plug and then began to gently move it back and forth trying to dislodge it.
“Ohhhhh…” Jon moaned and I saw his eyelids flutter and his eyes roll up into his head. “Fuck…”
I continued to lightly rock the plug from side to side, and every time I tried to pop it out, Jon would groan and sigh.
“More,” he breathed out. “Poppers.” The hell?
This time he let me hold the bottle and he just inhaled. Oh fuck, but this was hot.
I took a sniff for myself and something inside of me took over. I put the bottle back to Jon’s nose and he readily inhaled, deeply. Then I tapped at the base of the butt plug, causing it to vibrate in Jon’s hole.
“Oh,” he gasped. “Fuck. Yes.”
I tapped on the plug a few more times and then began to move it back and forth, in and out, gently fucking him with it under the guise of removing it. He grunted and groaned and asked for more.
Fuck!
“Ungghhh,” he moaned lowly as he began to shudder and I knew he was cumming. Holy shit. As he wailed and groaned, I popped the butt plug out and dropped it on the bed. Jon collapsed onto his side.
I let him gather himself for a couple of minutes and then helped him to his feet. “Let’s get you into the shower so you can clean up.” His legs were shaky and his knees buckled twice, but I wrapped my arm around his waist and held him close to me.
I opened the glass doors to the large walk-in shower and turned the taps on. Then I lowered Jon’s briefs, my jaw dropping when I saw his pubic bush had been shaved off. The hell?! I slipped my hand down the front of my jeans… Fuck! I was shaved bare as well!
I didn’t say anything to him as I eased him onto the built-in shower bench, getting soaked in the process. When I stepped back he looked up at me and I gestured for him to get cleaned up. “I’m going to see if I can find some aspirin or pain relievers.”
I stepped out of the shower and closed the door. I grabbed a towel and dried off as I went down the hall to Jon’s parents’ bedroom. I rummaged through their medicine cabinet and found extra strength Tylenol and -- bingo.
I returned to Jon and did my best to keep my gaze averted as he slowly bathed, washing the cum, spit and filth off his skin. He looked shell-shocked, shaking and twitching every few seconds as another memory surfaced. My heart broke every time I saw his face twist up, and at that moment I knew I could gleefully strangle Jason. Beat him to death with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.
I was caught up in my thoughts and it took me a while to notice that Jon was sitting on the bench again with his head in his hands. He wasn’t moving, just staring at the floor, watching the water sweep down the drain. I opened the door and turned the water off. I wrapped him a large, fluffy bath sheet and helped him step out of the shower. I put the toilet seat down and had him sit while I towel-dried his hair.
“Here,” I said as I handed him the pills and poured a glass of water for him. “These should make you feel better.”
He palmed the pills and tossed them into his mouth. “Thanks,” he said in a small, hollow voice after he drained the glass.
I helped him to his feet and wrapped a dry towel around his waist. I held his arm and walked him out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, and down the hall to his parents’ bedroom. I pulled the sheets back and sat down with him. We were quiet for several minutes and I could feel him withdrawing.
“I’m sorry, Jon,” I finally said. He nodded but didn’t say anything. “I’m so fu--”
“Why am I so tired?” he interrupted.
I averted my gaze.
“Kev?”
“I gave you an Ambien.”
“What?” he snapped. “You fucking drugged me?”
I sighed. “Jon, you’re upset--”
“You’re fucking right I’m upset! You drugged me.”
I put up my hands. “You have every right to be upset, but you’re exhausted. You need to get some rest.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?!”
“Jon,” I said in a placating tone. “Jon.”
“Fuck you!”
I was silent for what seemed like an eternity, then, “Jon.”
“Fuck. You.” He bit off each word, jaw clenched. We sat in silence again for about a minute. I felt defeated. I’d misstepped, badly. I stood to leave.
“Okay,” I said finally.
“Kev,” he said suddenly, grabbing my hand almost desperately. I didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. “Please don’t go. Please.”
“Okay,” I said quietly. “I won’t.”
“Okay.”
I found a pair of sleep pants in the dresser and helped him into them. “Sleep for a bit,” I said.
“Yeah, okay,” he acquiesced as he crawled under the covers. “Thank you.”
I pulled a chair next to the bed, sat down, and pulled out my phone.
“Kev?” he said a few minutes later, his voice thick with exhaustion. I glanced up and the look on his face just about devastated me.
“Yeah?” I managed to rasp out.
“I’m really-- sorry.” His voice broke on the last word.
I got out of the chair and slid under the covers next to him. “Shhh,” I said as I took him in my arms. “It’s okay.”
He nodded into my shoulder, sniffling a couple of times as his shoulders shook and shuddered. I didn’t let go until I felt him drift off to sleep, a dead weight in my arms.
I eventually eased out of the bed, covered him and switched the lights off. Back in the downstairs guest room, I stripped off and stared at my bare crotch for a long time. What the hell. My cock looked bigger and I wondered how I was going to explain this to Kristen.
I stepped into the shower. The hot spray felt good and I braced myself with one arm against the wall as I hung my head and let the water cascade over me as I recalled the events of the previous night, replaying them over and over. I turned and let the water beat down my back and sluice over the crack of my ass. I began to jack off, slowly at first, but increased my pace, and soon I had two fingers in my ass, finger-fucking myself as I masturbated. Moments later I arched my back and roared as I blew my load against the tiled wall.
What the hell was I doing? What was I turning into?
I turned the shower off and reached for one of the large fluffy bath sheets.
I dressed and went to check on Jon and found him sleeping peacefully, the deep grooves that had creased his face just minutes earlier had smoothed out. I watched him for a while. What was going to happen now? What was going to happen to us?
I couldn’t let my mind dwell on that. Not yet because, well… because that way there be dragons. But I needed to talk to him. However, his emotions were all over the map and he was going to need time to process what had happened to him. I just hoped he wouldn’t hate me for it.
I slipped out of the room but left the door open in case he woke and needed something. I went back to his old bedroom and stood in the center of the room, surveying the wreckage from last night.
One thing about being raised by a single father who was also a Marine gunnery sergeant, was that my two brothers and I learned how to clean quickly and thoroughly. I opened the windows to air out the room and then stripped the sheets from the bed, surprised (and relieved) to discover the mattress in a zippered, waterproof protector. I took everything, including the wet towels, and tossed them into the washing machine.
I found a Bissell steamer in a closet downstairs and used it on the carpet and upholstery in Jon’s room. I scrubbed the bathroom and liberally sprayed the entire room with Febreze until the smell of sex and sweat was gone.
When the washing machine dinged to signal the sheets and towels were finished, I tossed them into the dryer and threw our soiled clothes into the washer. I paused when it came to our dirty briefs - my white Hanes and Jon’s black Calvins. I held them both to my nose and inhaled deeply. My lust finally got the best of me and I put them into Ziploc bags. I told myself I was ‘preserving evidence’, but deep down I knew I’d be sniffing the cum-crusted underwear during future jack off sessions. I palmed my hard cock through my jeans at the thought and I could feel a wet spot begin to form.
Fuck! What the hell was I doing?
I needed a distraction. I looked at my phone and saw I’d been cleaning, scrubbing, and doing laundry for the past three hours. I was hungry. I knew Jon wouldn’t be asleep for much longer - I checked on him again (he hadn’t moved) - and decided it was okay to venture out to pick up some breakfast.
I googled the nearest bagel place - Bruegger’s Bagels in Corona Del Mar - and headed out. As I drove I passed the Newport Centre shopping mall I saw there was a Macy’s. I pulled in.
Jon was still sleeping when I got back. I pulled the chair next to the bed again and read the news on my phone while I waited for him to wake up. He began to stir about 20 minutes later and I idly stroked his hair until he was fully awake.
“How are you feeling?” I asked cautiously.
He looked up at me and rubbed his eyes. “I can’t believe you fucking drugged me,” he groused.
“Yeah, I’m so horrible,” I deadpanned. “Blah, blah, blah. Get your ass out of bed; I picked up bagels. I’ll put some coffee on and it’ll be ready by the time you’re dressed.”
He sat up and looked around. “Where are my clothes?” He sounded subdued. Small.
“Bathroom counter,” I answered. “Everything’s clean.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
“I picked up some underwear, too,” I said as I pulled one of the three-packs from the Macy’s bag, opened it, and handed him a pair. “They didn’t have black.”
“Thanks.”
Jon was quiet and withdrawn on the drive back to Westwood. I tried engaging him a couple of times but he’d been silent since he’d come down to eat and I eventually gave up and let him be, focusing instead on the road in front of me. I knew he was beginning to remember more and more of last night and what had happened to him.
I glanced over at him periodically, but his now-frosty glare never wavered as he continued to stare straight ahead, his profile rigid. I swear I could feel anger pouring off him in icy waves.
Traffic was typical for a Sunday afternoon and we made good time, arriving back at Jon’s condo in just under ninety minutes. He still hadn’t said a word.
I keyed the code to his underground garage into the number pad and parked in his spot. He didn’t say anything, just reached into the back seat for his bag and held his hand out for the keys. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I turned the car off and placed the keys in his outstretched palm. I started to say something but he jumped out of the car and slammed the door hard, causing the entire SUV to reverberate. I sighed, quickly gathered my things, and got out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as he strode off, his only response the chirping of the alarm arming itself.
Well… Fuck.
I went for a long run (running always helped clear my mind), showered, and made a sandwich. I was just finishing the dishes when there was pounding at my front door. I tensed, my mind immediately flashing back to that Monday, two weeks ago, when Jason had showed up at my door and fucked me. I pushed the thought out of my head even as my dick hardened in my briefs. The hell?!
“Kevin…” Jon’s voice sounded through the door. “Open up, please?” More pounding. “Come on, Kev… I’m sorry!”
I rushed to the door, adjusting myself, and opened it to find Jon leaning against the frame. He had a garment bag slung over one shoulder and an open fifth of Jack Daniels in his hand. He was half-drunk and he looked wrecked.
“Kev,” he slurred, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Fuck. Kev, I’m so sorry.”
“Oh boy.” I grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “Get in here before the neighbors start to grumble,” I said as I hung the garment bag in the hall closet and put the whiskey on the coffee table.
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his face crumpling as he reached for me. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” I said, pulling him into a hug, feeling him shake in my arms as he grabbed me. “I know.” He held me tightly for several long seconds before he stepped back.
He pulled his phone from his back pocket, tapped the screen and handed it to me. It was a text message and read, ‘I OWN YOU’. But it was the attached photo that both shocked me and made my dick thicken in my briefs. Jon was on his knees, snorting what looked like a line of cocaine off an erect penis.
“He made me do fucking ketamine!” he cried, running his fingers through his hair, pulling at it. It stuck up all over in tufts. “I’m so fucked! He said if I don’t do whatever he says, whenever he wants, he’s sending this, and more, to the Captain. I’m fucked, Kev. My career…”
He didn’t finish. We both knew ketamine residue could be detected in hair samples for up to ninety days, and while our random drug tests were ‘piss tests’, an anonymous call to IA, or this picture, would trigger immediate and intense scrutiny.
I swallowed heavily and nodded. I picked up my phone from the coffee table, opened it, and thumbed through a couple of screens before handing it to him. On the screen was a picture of me taken in my bathroom, a hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back, showing my nostrils covered in white powder. There were three lines of what looked like cocaine on the marble vanity top.
Jon went ashen. Absolutely pale. He looked at me and gulped. His eyes welled with unshed tears. “Seriously? Oh my God. I didn’t even think… Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged and he collapsed onto the couch, hanging his head. I sat next to him and rubbed small circles on his back until he had himself under control.
He put his hand on my leg and squeezed as he turned to face me. “Can I stay here tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” I said, covering his hand with mine. “Always.”
He turned his palm up and laced his fingers with mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked away like that earlier. I was--”
“I know,” I interrupted. “No need to apologize. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
He sniffled again and gripped my hand tightly. “Have you had anything to eat?” I asked. He nodded at the bottle of Jack Daniels and I rolled my eyes.
“Okay,” I laughed, reaching for the bottle of whiskey as I stood up. “I’ll make you a sandwich and we can watch the game.”
I made him a thick ham and swiss sandwich, just the way I knew he liked it, and brought it out to him along with salt and pepper kettle chips and a bottle of water. He was staring at his phone. He looked lost.
“What’s that?” I asked, already knowing what it was: Jason. He didn’t look at me. A muscle in his jaw flexed as he put the phone on ‘do not disturb’, and then picked up the sandwich.
While he ate I made up the guest room, hung up the suit he’d brought, and made sure there were toiletries and fresh towels in the guest bath.
We watched the rest of Sunday Night Football in a companionable silence. Jon had a few more drinks - he was going to be hungover tomorrow - and I ended up having two Jack and Gingers.
He inched closer to me throughout the game until he was pressed against me. I slung my arm around his shoulder and rested my head on his. “It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered. He shuddered and nodded.
He was asleep before the game ended, slumped against me and drooling on my shoulder. I smiled and softly ran my fingers through his hair.
He was still holding his phone but his grip had slackened and I eased it from his grasp. We knew each other’s pass codes and I guiltily keyed his in. I read his text messages from Jason and cringed at the photos and video clips he’d been sent.
I screen capped the texts and then used AirDrop to send them, as well as all the pictures and videos, to my phone. Then I deleted the screen caps (from the deleted items folder as well) and put the phone down.
“Come on, buddy,” I said quietly as I gently shook him awake. “Bed time.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. I took his hand and pulled him to his feet and walked him to the guest room. His back was to me as he undressed and I couldn’t help but stare at him. God, he was beautiful. His broad, powerful shoulders rippled as he pulled his t-shirt off and dropped it onto the floor. He balanced himself with one hand on the bed frame as he skimmed his jeans down and off. The white Calvin Klein briefs clung to his firm round ass and I caught my breath.
Was I gay? Bisexual? I loved Kristen, I truly did, but seeing Jon like this… Recalling the things Austin did to me… The feeling of his cock inside me as he fucked me… The way I felt when he dominated and manhandled me… I actually felt safe and taken care of, and how fucked up was that?
Jon tugging the sheets back and crawling into bed pulled me out of my reverie. I rushed over and pulled the blanket up over him. “Good night.”
“G’night,” he slurred. I flicked the light off and went to lock up for the night.
I plugged his phone in to charge and then picked up mine as I headed for my room. I knew I shouldn’t, but I opened the photo album and swiped through the pictures of Jon, unable to stop myself. I went back into the kitchen and poured myself another Jack and Ginger and sat down at the bar.
I watched all the videos several times. The things they did to Jon and some of the things they made him do... It was obvious he was high because he looked like a total team player. I couldn’t help but be turned on.
There was a video of him snorting the ketamine from Jason’s dick. I stared unblinking as Jason laid the line out on his cock while Austin pushed Jon to his knees, grabbed him by the hair, and guided him to Jason’s cock. When he finished snorting, Jason wiped his dick off with a washcloth and slid his cock into Jon’s waiting mouth. He was a fucked-out mess and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.
By the time I got to a close up video of Austin fucking Jon’s mouth, his eyes glazed and half shut as Austin’s thick shaft slid up and down his throat, I’d shot my load into my hand. I set my phone down, disgusted at my own thoughts and actions.
I was glad he’d been drugged and didn’t have clear memories of most of what happened because the look on his face tonight when I answered the door… It was haunted, and it haunted me. Seeing what he’d been subjected to and the things he’d done had devastated him and me alike.
I finally made it to bed an hour later and fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. I woke suddenly, a few hours later, feeling as if I wasn’t alone. I turned to see Jon next to me, curled in a ball with his back to mine. I rolled over and tucked in close, careful not to touch him, but close enough to let him know he was protected. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath all night, leaned his weight back, and settled into me. I slung my arm over him and pulled him close, spooning him. I was surprised when he slid his hand into mine and squeezed.
Morning came too quickly.
My alarm jarred me from sleep and when I reached to turn it off I realized Jon was gone. His side of the bed was still warm though and then I heard the shower in the guest room running.
I pulled on flannel pants and a t-shirt and stumbled to the kitchen, head pounding, mentally kicking myself for having that last drink as I put on a pot of coffee.
I was sipping my first cup when Jon walked into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a towel slung low over his narrow hips. I couldn’t help but notice the lack of pubic hair. “Do you have a t-shirt I can borrow?” he asked.
“Um, yeah,” I said, pulling my gaze away from his shaved crotch as I handed him the cup of coffee I’d poured for him. I nodded toward the half-and-half and sugar on the counter. “Do you need briefs, too?”
“Not used ones, dude,” he laughed as he sat down.
“Ass.” I muttered as I walked to my room and came back with the open three-pack I’d picked up yesterday. I tossed it to him.
He caught them and grinned broadly as he held it up. “You just like how I look in tighty whities,” he said with a wink. I rolled my eyes and knew right then and there that everything was going to be okay.
All hell broke loose moments before we walked into the station. I was getting out of the car, reaching for my Starbucks, when my phone rang. Moments later Jon’s began to ring as well.
We exchanged curious but cautious glances as we pulled our phones from our pockets. I looked at the screen: it was the Captain. I swiped to accept.
“Good Morning, Captain,” I greeted him. “We just got here... Yeah, he’s with me... Okay, we’ll be right in.”
I pocketed my phone as Jon clicked his off. “Double homicide on Sunset near South Beverly Glen,” he said as we walked into the station.
So yeah, we were kept hopping for most of the week, interviewing witnesses and suspects as we investigated the murders. I was glad for the distraction because I was always laser-focused when working a new case.
Jon was a different story, though. Normally the life of the party and always in a good mood, he was intermittently sullen and volatile throughout the week. And he was perpetually aroused. I could tell every time he received a text from Jason because his jaw clenched, his cheeks flushed, and the bulge in his trim cut suit pants - which had been prominent before - verged on the obscene.
Wednesday afternoon while Jon interviewed a witness on his own, I tracked down some leads online. His phone was on his desk, which was only a couple feet away from mine, and buzzed a couple of times. I knew it was most likely Jason, but this wasn’t a good time. Our murder investigation was heating up and Jon was already frazzled and on edge. I grabbed his phone and entered his passcode.
There were several more pictures and video clips and even a couple of gifs. I sent them to my phone again and then deleted everything before returning his phone to his desk. If he found out and got pissed, I’d take the heat.
An anonymous tip Thursday morning broke the case and by the end of the day we had an arrest. We celebrated at Jon’s place where he overdid it.
On Friday my phone buzzed with a text at the same time Jon’s did. I looked at him. He read the text. His head snapped up. We exchanged phones and saw we’d received the identical text from Jason: ‘Party tomorrow at noon. Will text you the address in the a.m. Don’t be late.’
The address was in Palos Verdes which, in Saturday traffic, took nearly an hour to reach. Neither of us were sure what to expect, what with that single cryptic text message we’d received. We we were both more than a little relieved that Kristen and Liz, along with my brother and a couple of the other librarians, were at a conference in Seattle until Sunday afternoon.
Jon pulled into the Golden Cove Center on Hawthorne Boulevard and parked near the Trader Joe’s. “What’re you doing?” I asked.
He grabbed his phone from the center console. “I think I’d be more comfortable if we left the car here and took a Lyft.”
“Ah, good idea,” I agreed.
Twenty minutes later our rideshare dropped us off at the address on Paseo Del Mar. Jon let out a soft whistle as we got out of the car and looked around us. “Nice neighborhood.”
We were halfway up the front walk of the sprawling Spanish hacienda estate when the door opened. I recognized Nic and Charlie. They smiled and waved enthusiastically. I put on my best smile and nodded in return.
“Friends of yours?” Jon asked under his breath.
“That dream I had,” I replied with a mutter.
Jon’s brows shot up but he didn’t say anything as we reached the smiling young men.
“It’s so nice to see you again,” Nic gushed as he put a hand on my upper arm and then, as if he’d heard our conversation, said, “I heard about your dream the other night.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, taking my other arm, “Jason told us all about it. Maybe we can do something about it later.” I felt my face go red.
“And you must be Jon,” Nic said, turning to Jon and taking his hand. He gave him a long appraising look. “It’s very nice to meet you, Cumdumpster.” I could hear Jon gulp.
We stepped inside a large foyer that opened onto a room overlooking the ocean. But before I could even take in the gorgeous view of the Pacific, we were ushered down a hallway and into a room where Jason waited. Austin wasn’t with him and I felt a small pang of-- what, disappointment?
Jason was on his laptop when we entered and he quickly stood up. “I’m having a small get together this afternoon. A couple dozen friends. You’re here to serve my guests.”
“The fuck?” Jon said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jason ignored him. “But first you need the proper uniform.” He walked around us slowly, looking us up and down.
“What? Uniform?”
“Shirts off,” Jason said.
Neither of us moved.
“That was an order,” he said firmly.
We stripped our shirts off. I folded mine while Jon dropped his on the floor.
“Pants too.”
The hell?
I slipped my shoes off and had my jeans halfway down when I realized Jon hadn’t moved. He was glaring at Jason and if looks could kill...
“Don’t test me, Johnny Boy,” Jason warned, his tone icy.
Slowly, deliberately - every move emphasized and exaggerated - Jon undid his jeans and pushed them down past his thighs.
“I see you two faggots coordinated,” Jason remarked with sneering contempt. I looked over at Jon as he stepped out of his jeans and saw he was wearing white Calvin Klein briefs - same as me. Except he was half hard!
Jason tossed a black t-shirt to each of us. “The rest of your uniform.”
I held up my shirt. The word ‘PUSSY’ was emblazoned across the front in white block letters. Shit! I looked at Jon. He was staring at his shirt, mouth slack and breathing heavy. It read ‘CUMDUMPSTER.’
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said, even as his dick chubbed up and tented his already bulging briefs.
Oh fuck!
We walked out of the room, orders confirmed, wearing just white briefs, black t-shirts, and flip-flops. Our detective badges and IDs hung from chains around our necks. We followed Jason, Nic and Charlie into the large front room where the ‘guests’ were gathered. Per Jason’s instructions, we were to act as waiters and servers while the guests did whatever the fuck you did at a party like this. We were to serve drinks and hors d’oeuvres and whatever else the men wanted. I didn’t have a good feeling about the ‘whatever else.’
The room was large, easily 35 feet long by 20 feet wide, and the ceilings had to be at least 12 feet high. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the entire length of the room, showcasing a stunning panoramic view of the ocean. Large glass doors opened onto a yard as flat and pristine as a golf green and immaculately landscaped. There was a pergola, a large rectangular pool, and a hot tub. The yard was surrounded by a privacy fence high enough to keep out the most prying of eyes.
The room and patio were teeming with men of all sorts, shapes, and sizes; and that’s when I noticed him.
He was leaning against an ornately carved pillar talking to Austin. He looked to be in his mid to late 20s but could easily blend into a frat-boy lineup. He was about 6’1 with dark, artfully tousled hair, darker eyebrows, and even darker eyes. I wouldn't necessarily call him a pretty boy (okay, yeah, I would) - he was more brutally handsome - and, yeah, he definitely knew he was hot. He had sculpted muscles, a perfect tan, and a smile that could light up the darkest corner of Carlsbad Caverns.
And the way he leaned as he chatted up Austin - one arm up over his head, curled to show off his bicep as he ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair - was a total fuck-me pose.
I got the feeling he knew exactly what he was doing and what effect he was having on me. I also got the sense he knew I was staring and he deliberately didn’t meet my eyes. The way the corners of his mouth tugged up into a smirk gave him away.
He was in total control and knew it. He probably even knew I’d do whatever he wanted with no questions asked. I wondered if he knew how drawn I was to the matted hair in his armpit, and I wondered what he’d do if I walked up to him and burrowed my face in that cave. I felt my dick twitch as it rose to half-mast.
Fuck! Who was he and what was happening to me?
The party was actually more tame than I expected. Sure, there were whistles and catcalls and our asses would be bruised with pinch marks come morning, but it seemed as if we were there only to further humiliate ourselves, considering the scanty outfits we were wearing.
Neither Jon nor I ate anything and I only drank bottled water while Jon had an occasional beer. But we made sure that we were the only ones who opened or who handled our beverages, both of us all too aware of the consequences. And we made it a point, as best we could, to stay in one another’s line of sight.
Meanwhile, Pretty Boy (I found out his name was Tyler) continued to ignore me, but let me know, in a roundabout way, that he knew that I knew.
As the afternoon went on and the party attendees had more to drink, we endured an increased level of heckling, innuendo, flirting, and groping. It was juvenile and sophomoric, along the lines of a fraternity hazing prank, but pretty uneventful.
Jon received most of the attention because it seemed the more embarrassed he was, the harder his dick got, and the harder his dick got, the more embarrassed he became. I even had to stop myself from smiling a couple of times.
I was brushing off yet another hand on my ass when I heard a sharp squeal followed by a clatter of empty beer cans hitting the floor. I spun around to see Jon being tickled by Nic and Charlie. He was trying to fend them off, but they clearly had the upper hand and were keeping him off balance by alternatingly jabbing at his ribs and poking his navel while squeezing his inner thighs and the backs of his knees.
He howled as their fingers roamed, exposing his weaknesses as they explored his hot body. He was practically screaming bloody murder as he hunched in on himself, dissolving into a high pitched laughter I'd never heard from him in all the years I’ve known him.
“Stop,” he pleaded with a gasp, doubled over and slapping at the hands pawing at his body. But that only drew more attention and soon a sea of guys drifted over as they sensed a weak member in the midst. New prey. Fresh meat.
I knew I should help him, but I was frozen in place, inexplicably turned on by what I was witnessing.
He continued to struggle but it was a losing battle. He was completely at their mercy and I was shocked at how helpless he was and how easily they took him down. He was a strong man, easily two to three inches taller and twenty pounds heavier than either of them, broken down to a limp noodle with mere tickling. I had no idea he was so ticklish, and judging from his reactions, neither did he.
His body bucked as Charlie held his hands behind his back and Nic put a bottle of poppers to his nose. “Oh fuck…” he moaned as the fumes hit him and his body slumped back into Charlie’s strong arms.
They half-dragged/half-carried him to the sofa and sprawled him out on his back. They rucked his t-shirt up under his armpits and he was immediately swarmed by curious, horny onlookers. Mouths latched onto his exposed nipples, slurping and nibbling away at those two carnal command centers while more fingers dug into his ribs and belly button.
He shrieked with laughter and he fought to catch his breath, but every time he got any air, those fucking poppers would appear.
Hands scrabbled over his torso from his lower rib cage up into his sweaty, greasy armpits and back down. He twisted and turned in a vain attempt to avoid the tickling fingers as they skated across the broad plains of his chest and down along his sides, but the hands holding him down were strong and secure and his efforts to avoid the tickle torture were futile.
“EEEEEEEEheeheeheeheehahahahahahahahahaha dooooon’t hoooooohooodoooo thheeesss tooooo me, heeheeheeheeheeheeheee!” Jon laughed as he pleaded and begged for Nic and Charlie to stop.
I continued to watch in fascination as Jon was reduced to an almost blithering idiot. One moment he was hunched over, chortling loud belly laughs, and the next he was squealing in peels of high-pitched laughter. His fit, taut body arched and jerked up, and his brief-covered erection thrust into the air in obscene gyrations. It would’ve been funny except for the leering horde of men gathered around him, grabbing at him, pawing at his dick and ass like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. He was so hard it was a wonder his dick hadn’t ripped right through his thin cotton underwear. And he was oblivious. No clue at all.
He sputtered and began to cough as he tried to catch his breath. The guys eased up for a few moments and Nic held a red Solo cup to his mouth and urged him to drink. After a few swallows, though, Jon twisted his head and spit and refused to drink anymore.
What was that?
“Just a little something to put him in the mood,” a voice husked in my ear and I jumped as Austin slid next to me. I hadn’t realized I’d spoken aloud. “Nothing too strong,” he continued as his big calloused paw ran down the small of my back and over the curve of my ass. “Not that he needs anything. Johnny Boy’s a total cockslut. Get him aroused, feel him up a bit, and - bam! - a real cumdumpster.”
I turned and shot him an affronted look. That was such bullshit, I wanted to say, but he was waggling his eyebrows and grinning wolfishly, and before I could say anything, he gave my ass a hard slap and went to join Nic and Charlie.
Meanwhile, somebody grabbed the waistband of Jon’s briefs, apparently intent on stripping him of his final dignity, but Jon was putting up a valiant struggle. Thankfully Austin intervened just as the tide seemed to be turning, stopping the man with a firm hand on his shoulder and a nod of his head. The man stepped back respectfully and Jon breathed a sigh of relief.
Nic took that opportunity to grab hold of Jon’s wrists and pulled his hands up over his head while Charlie knelt down next to the couch and gently gripped Jon’s erection through his underwear, flicking his thumb back and forth over the leaking tip while the index finger of his other hand traced lazy circles around Jon’s nipples, teasing the rubbery nubs into hard, sharp points. The entire time Charlie’s eyes never left Jon’s, and I noticed Jon was staring back at him, mesmerised, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away. Apparently whatever was in the red Solo cup had kicked in.
Nic released Jon’s wrists but Jon made no move to lower his arms; he was transfixed, staring into Charlie’s eyes as he continued to tease his nipples and prick tip. Charlie’s eyes were fixed on Jon’s as he traced a long, delicate finger up and down his vulnerable sides, his eyes lighting up with every one of Jon’s giggles. Then he dragged his heavy-lidded gaze down Jon’s body, raking his eyes across the broad expanse of his hairy chest, over his rippled abs, and all the way down to his briefs, which were so hugely tented a troop of Boy Scouts could’ve camped out. Fuck, an entire Scout Jamboree.
Jon followed Charlie’s eyes as they lingered over his taut, sweaty frame, ogling and eye-fucking him. And when Charlie’s eyes flicked quickly back up to Jon’s face, it was obvious Jon was loving every touch and sensation. He was so completely in the moment that he was totally unaware of just how exposed and at risk he was in this room full of lusty, drunk men.
Poppers were put to both his nostrils again and he inhaled deeply. I could tell when the fumes hit because his body visibly shuddered. I could almost feel the tingling sensations that I knew were coursing up and down his spine and radiating out to his fingertips, toes, and even the tip of his dick. My ass clenched.
“Oh… fuck…” he moaned, panting as beads of sweat surfaced on his tanned skin.
Charlie grinned broadly, “Oh fuck is right.”
Austin’s words bounced around in my head. *Johnny Boy’s a total cockslut. Get him aroused, feel him up a bit, and - bam! - a real cumdumpster.*
My own erection swelled in my briefs at that thought as I stood rooted in rapt silence, pearls and pearls of pre-cum oozing through the thin cotton fabric, turning the material translucent and shiny.
Austin nodded again and Nic gave Jon more poppers. “Fuck…” he moaned again as the fumes assaulted his body. He let out a sigh and seemed to sink deeper into the cushions
Charlie reached into Jon’s briefs and pulled his erect dick out, tucked the elastic waistband under his full, heavy balls, and began to slowly masturbate him as he came down from his popper-high. Jon gasped and cried out in pleasure, thrusting into Charlie’s hand as his body writhed and gyrated under the expert ministrations.
Then Charlie sped up the pace and roiled his cupped palm over the slick, flared head, teasing him but not letting him shoot his load. Jon yelped and tried to buck him off while batting at his hands, but Charlie bore down while Nic grabbed Jon’s wrists and pulled them away.
“I don’t have time to properly edge and milk you because we’re getting ready for the main event,” Charlie said as he slowed his strokes and eased off. “But I will next time. I promise.”
Next time? Jon gulped as Charlie ran his cum-slicked fingers over Jon’s slightly parted lips.
The mob of men had pressed closer, apparently hoping to see Jon cum up close and personal, and he was suddenly obscured from my view. His groans became muffled and I tried to see what was happening. The crowd was thick, but using my height to my advantage, I caught a glimpse of him. His head was thrown back over the arm of the couch and somebody was feeding his cock down his throat!
Tyler! He had his track pants pushed down to his knees with legs spread shoulder-width apart as he speared Jon’s mouth with his thick prong. His black Calvin Klein briefs were halfway down his tanned, muscled ass, and my eyes feasted on the sliver of hair-lined crack they exposed.
“Oh yeah,” he rumbled, his voice a soft, velvety purr, as he stroked long fingers through Jon’s hair and pushed another inch of his massive pole into Jon’s mouth. “That’s a good cocksucker. Oooh, yeah… take it all.”
It was the first time I’d heard him speak and I was spellbound by his rich, deep tenor. I watched wide-eyed as he held the sides of Jon’s head and slowly fucked his mouth.
“Fuck, the dick ditch on this cocksucker is amazing,” Tyler crowed as his ball sack tapped against Jon’s nose and forehead with each thrust. “Usually they can’t take something this big, but Cumdumpster here… Shit, he’s a pro.”
His dick seemed to move effortlessly, deeper and deeper down Jon’s undulating throat, and I wondered how he was able to take that whole thing without choking, let alone how he could even breathe. But he managed - like, Tyler said, a pro - and once again, Austin’s words skirted along the back of my brain. *Johnny Boy’s a total cockslut. Get him aroused, feel him up a bit, and - bam! - a real cumdumpster.*
I don’t know how long I - we - stood watching the fucking porno playing out in living color before Jason strode into the room and signaled for everybody to stop.
“You too,” he said, putting a hand on Tyler’s bicep. Tyler reluctantly pulled out of Jon’s mouth and tucked his dick into his briefs, adjusted himself, and pulled his sweatpants up.
He glared daggers at Jason, slashes of red painting his cheeks, and then leaned over to whisper something to Jon. My eyes swung to his ass as he bent over. It was like two soccer balls had been stuffed into those track pants. Fuck, but God had done some fine work on that ass, and I saw I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed, or who was openly staring at it.
Whatever Tyler said caused Jon’s eyes to pop open and his jaw to drop. He ruffled Jon’s hair, then stood up straight and stretched, reaching both arms up and back, exposing an inch or so of his black Calvin Klein waistband as well as the very defined V-line that had previously lay hidden under his sleeveless shirt.
He caught my eyes and looked me up and down, appraising me like I was a prize bull at a cattle auction. He threw me a lopsided smirk and my dick fucking tent-poled, making my briefs bulge pornographically. His eyes flicked down to my crotch and then back up. He winked, making sure I knew what he’d seen. Fuck! My dick twitched and he saw that too because he cocked an eyebrow and licked his lips. I felt a wet spot forming in my underwear.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!
I stared at him as he stepped back into the crowd. He exuded a heady combination of confidence and cockiness. He knew he was the biggest Alpha in the room and suddenly I wondered why Jason had even invited him.
While I idly pondered the thought, I noticed Jon was back in a sitting position. His arms were held over his head and Nic stripped his t-shirt off. Poppers were put back to his nose and men flocked to his exposed armpits.
“No,” Jason laughed, reaching down with Austin to haul Jon to his feet. “Follow me.”
I half-expected the crowd to hoist Jon onto their shoulders and carry him like a victorious athlete or a conquering hero. As it was, they openly groped and fondled him as Jason led him dazed and stumbling outside to the patio and to the large pergola.
There was something so hot about seeing him vulnerable like that, stripped nearly naked in this group of mostly dressed guys. Something degrading about him being marched through the crowd as exposed as he was as horny men swarmed him, knowing something special was about to happen.
There was a long procession and by the time I made it outside the crowd was thick. When I finally managed to see what was happening, Jon was on his knees, his slobbering mouth eagerly working Jason’s cock.
As I was processing that, Austin appeared at my side. “Did you miss me?” he asked playfully as he pulled me into his armpit.
I nodded absently as I reveled in his spice-scented musk as his hands stroked my ribs and flanks almost possessively. It felt… nice.
“Holy shit, but you’re a good cocksucker,” I heard Jason say and looked up to see him yank Jon’s mouth off his dick with a loud pop. Jon’s eyes looked glassy and his movements were a bit sluggish.
Nic and Charlie pulled him to his feet and Jason slipped a ball gag into his mouth. He put up a half-hearted struggle as they cuffed his wrists and tied them to two ropes that hung from pulleys attached to one of the massive overhead beams of the pergola.
The speed and skill they employed in tying Jon made me wonder just how many times they'd done this before.
A long weight bench was slid over and he was eased down onto it until he was lying flat on his back. They pulled his arms up over his head and tied the ends of the ropes to the legs of the bench. Then they stripped his underwear off, Jon only vaguely protesting at the indignity of it, and passed the cum and sweat-soaked briefs around the crowd like they were some kind of spoils of war, a trophy for the conquering horde to sniff and lick.
His ankles were cuffed to a three-foot long spreader bar which was likewise fastened to a pulley systems suspended from another beam. They pulled it up so his legs were almost to his shoulders, fastened ropes to either end of the bar, and secured it to a large hook that was screwed into one of the beams. His legs were now spread wide, his taut ass and hairy anal trench on full display to the cheering crowd.
With his arms and legs splayed wide and tied up over his head, leaving him exposed and vulnerable, he must’ve looked like something out of an S&M porno flick. But my eyes were zeroed in on the funky bramble of hair in the hollows of his stretched pits and I burrowed deeper into Austin’s rich funk, imagining the whole while it was Jon.
Nic straddled Jon’s chest, easily positioning his lithe, compact body between Jon’s upraised arms and legs. “So, you’re a cumdumpster, huh?” he asked as he held up Jon’s discarded t-shirt.
Jon moaned and pulled at his bonds.
“You’re hot, too, you know?” Nic said as he dropped the shirt and began to run the backs of his hands lightly over Jon’s pecs and then up and down the length of his arms. Jon gritted his teeth around the gag and I could tell he was focusing on trying not to laugh.
“I saw pictures of you from the other night, trussed up like a nice piece of man-meat,” he continued as he swiped his thumbs back and forth like windshield wipers over Jon’s tawny nipples. They looked like pencil erasers, little rubbery peaks sticking up from the swirling sea of hair on his rock-hard pecs. “I don’t have the pink puppy tail, but maybe this will do?” He reached into a backpack and pulled out a large, fleshy dildo.
I stared from where I was still half-buried in Austin’s armpit, rooting around like a pig seeking out truffles. Jon gulped and shook his head, protestations of “don’t do this” and grunts emerging through the ball gag filling his mouth. Nic laughed. “Don’t worry,” he said in his breezy voice as he handed the rubber cock to Charlie and regarded the men who were gathered around. “I’m sure there’s enough dick here for both you and Pussy.”
Charlie sat down at the end of the bench between Jon’s legs and began to prep his hole with his knowledgeable, expert fingers. He stroked the tender flesh around his pucker as Nic fiendishly alternated between tickling the sweat-slick bush in his pits and plucking at his puffed, erect nipples.
As Jon’s body spasmed his cock began to thicken and lengthen, and a glistening bead of slimy pre-cum slowly bubbled up from the piss slit, lubing the crown with a sleek sheen.
“Well, hello! Look who just woke up,” Charlie laughed, slipping his fingers around the erect organ and clamping down.
“Can’t wait until it’s your turn on there,” Austin hissed into my ear as his hand slid down the back of my underwear and the blunt tip of his index finger stroked over my hole. “I’m looking forward to opening you up.”
I whimpered and shuddered as he continued. “Yeah, feels like your hole missed me as much as I missed it.”
I looked at him but he just chuckled and shoved my face back into his pit.
Jon was howling with laughter, his body bucking wildly against the restraints as Charlie pulled his fingers from his slicked up hole and began to feather them - just the tips - around his twitching asshole, circling the vulnerable pucker and tapping it. And fuck if I didn’t feel that tap-tap-tap directly on my prostate.
Charlie sunk three fingers into Jon’s ass and Jon moaned. I tensed at the sound but Austin just laughed and buried my face deeper into the slick cave of his armpit.
I watched as Nic continued to tickle Jon, twisting his nipples and drilling into his rib cage. Jon squealed and bucked and then began to gurgle when Charlie slowly screwed the dildo into his ass and started to ream his chute.
“Oh!” Jon gasped, even as his body wracked and convulsed with laughter. His cries of “Stop! Please!” and “No, don’t!” were clearly audible even through the gag.
I watched as Charlie tapped the base of the dildo as he roiled the palm of his hand over the slick prick tip, causing Jon’s hips to buck and roll.
There was suddenly a hand in my hair and my head was yanked out of Austin’s armpit. “We’re up,” Jason said to Austin, flashing me a lascivious grin. “Don’t worry, Pussy. Your turn’s coming soon.”
I watched as Nic and Charlie freed Jon’s legs and sat him up on the bench. He leaned forward, arms still bound over his head, and panted as he caught his breath.
Austin straddled the bench, facing Jon. He’d stripped naked and was slathering lube over his sheathed dick. Jason lifted Jon from the bench as Austin slid forward, and then lowered him back down, easing him onto Austin’s cock, spearing him like a prize marlin.
Jon threw his head back and Austin reached out to pop the gag from his mouth. “Fuuuccckkk!!!” Jon roared as Jason bounced his body up and down on Austin’s cock. “Ohhh… fuck!!!!!”
Jon continued to buck and moan as he road Austin. And as if that wasn’t enough, Nic and Charlie reached in and started to tickle him from his ribs up to his pits. Jon shrieked and squealed to no avail.
I watched, stunned, as Jon cried out, his voice a strange mix of agony and pleasure as he was repeatedly impaled on Austin’s thick shaft.
After what seemed like several minutes, Jason pulled Jon off of Austin’s dick. I saw Nic and Charlie carrying the fuck bench out of the house and watched as Jon was strapped into it and the dildo lodged firmly in his ass. Jason grabbed Jon by the hair and yanked his head up. A line of men began to form.
“Oh fuck,” I gasped as I palmed my boner. “He’s gonna make him blow them all?”
“Looks like he’s having the time of his life,” a voice said into my ear. I tensed and felt my body flinch.
“Easy,” the voice continued, lower this time. “Here, I brought you a drink.”
I turned. He-- Tyler stood next to me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body. It felt feverish, a vibrating current that crackled like static electricity. There was a raw, almost animal quality to him, like he was a jungle cat - a jaguar - and I was his prey.
“Come on,” he casually urged as he pressed the plastic cup into my hand. When he talked there was absolutely nothing in his voice, nothing in that smooth, amber tone, nothing in his face, except maybe a slight mocking crease over those dark eyebrows and a tiny crinkle of the laugh lines around his dark eyes, that told me I was in danger.
I knew I shouldn’t, but I took the cup and sipped, casting a sidelong glance at him as I drank. He might as well have been naked from the waist up because I could count each fucking ab through the red Under Armour shirt that clung to him like a second skin. I had to stop myself from reaching out and tracing the hard ridges of his pecs and the wide buds of his nipples. Big nipples on a big guy.
He smiled broadly and it made me think of a good boy gone bad; a Boy Scout who’d traded in his merit badges for something more lethal and less chivalrous.
His right hand cupped my ass and I felt fingers brush up and down the length of my crack. “I’m Tyler,” he said. I was suddenly parched and drank deeply.
I don’t know how long I stood there watching Jon getting face-fucked by every Tom, Dick and Harry while Tyler’s fingers pushed more insistently into the cleft of my ass cheeks. I was aware that I was pressing closer to him, softly panting. Every so often he would reach over and cup my bulge with his left hand, gently squeezing my nuts while thumbing the length of my dick through my briefs. I was hard and leaking and the material covering the tip of my prick was wet and translucent where the head of my cock pushed out against the thin white cotton.
I was breathing even heavier now and finished my drink. I noticed several heads turned our way, watching as Tyler openly felt me up. But if the shit-eating grin on his face was any indicator, he didn’t give a fuck.
My head started to feel swimmy and I shook it as if to clear it. I looked at the glass in my hand and then at Tyler.
“Uh oh, busted,” he said, shrugging one shoulder as he slyly smirked. He circled a strong arm around my waist and tugged me, unresisting, back into the house.
“You’ve been watching me all night,” he said to me in a low purr as he guided me down a long hallway and into a bedroom. He closed the door behind him and eased me onto the bed.
“Yeah, I replied,” blushing. I looked up at him through lowered lashes as he stepped between my spread legs. He placed my left hand on the bulge in his pants. I squeezed it gently. He inhaled sharply and exhaled a long, low moan.
“Is this what you want?” he asked. I nodded and he tugged the front of his sweatpants down and pulled my face down to his crotch. I nuzzled my nose, lips and chin over his length through his briefs. His natural musk combined with the scent of imminent sex was decadently rich. It was the only drug I needed.
“You like?” he asked, stripping off his shirt and stepping out of his track pants as I mouthed his cock through the thin black cotton.
“Yes,” I moaned between nibbles. I felt nice and relaxed and… shiny. Whatever was in that drink was making me mellow while at the same time horny as fuck. He took his dick out and ran it over my lips. I eagerly parted for him and took him in.
He gently fucked my mouth for a few minutes, running his fingers through my hair and murmuring words of encouragement. I heard his breath quicken and he suddenly stopped. “Okay,” he said as he pulled out. “That’s good for now.”
He gave me a gentle shove back and I flopped onto my back. He grabbed the waistband of my underwear and began to pull them down. He patted my hip and I lifted my butt up off the bed so he could take them all the way off. He twirled the cum-slick briefs on his finger and then laid them over my nose and mouth. I took a deep breath and he laughed. But when I went to remove them he slapped my hand away.
“Leave them,” he ordered. I nodded and dropped my hand.
“The minute Jason told me about you, showed me pictures and video clips, I knew I had to get my dick inside you.”
I moaned at the thought and looked up at him. “Hands and knees,” he said. I rolled over and got onto all fours, for the first time taking in my surroundings. There was a large, full-length mirror leaning against the wall across the room and I watched as he appraised my ass, my eyes picking out every ridge and ripple in the hard lines of his chest and abdomen. Did he have a fucking eight-pack?
He squirted lube onto his index finger and feathered it over my hole. I instinctively clenched. He circled it a few times and placed the tip onto the puckered knot.
“Huh, for as big a whore Jason said you are, you’re surprisingly tight. I’m going to have fun getting you loosened up and ready.”
He went in deeper with every thrust of his fingers, crooking them and seeking out my prostate and - oh fuck! - I was in heaven! His fingers inside me as he strummed my nut were masterful. It made what Jason had tried to teach Jon look amateurish. I let out a soft, whimpering sigh and pushed into them.
He slipped a third finger in and pleasure flooded my brain and all my senses. I watched him as he worked, watched has my hard cock bobbed and swayed back and forth like a pendulum, pre-cum flowing freely. I threw my head back against the pillows.
“Oh fuck yes,” I cried out as he continued massaging my prostate. “More!”
He quirked a smile as he bent down and pulled a condom and a travel-size bottle of lube from the pockets of his track pants.
He began to fuck me faster, his balls slapping against my ass as he pounded deeper and deeper into me, eyes closed and briefs pushed down to mid-thigh, as he pummelled my hungry hole.
This was it man. Tyler fucked me hard and I wondered how this could feel so good. How getting fucked in the ass felt good, period.
Drool pooled at the corner of my mouth as he thrust into me, pumping in a steady rhythm, and since there was some give to the mattress, my upturned ass was bouncing back into his thrusts.
“Unnnghhh,” I groaned, my voice deep like it was scraping the bottom of a deep pit.
Everything he was saying was washing over me as I writhed, pushing back into him in a drugged, sex-hazed bliss. All I wanted was for him to keep fucking me and never stop.
It may have been a minute or thirty minutes later, but my next conscious thought was of me staring at myself in the mirror.
I heard the snick of a lock and I saw the door swing open slowly and soundlessly and Austin poked his head in. His eyes widened and he took in the scene. Mentally assessing the situation?
“Yeah, and when I get through with you I’m gonna go back and take a real turn with your pal the Cumdumpster,” Tyler was saying. “I don’t care what the fuck Jason or that Neanderthal sidekick of his says.”
The door closed and a few minutes later I heard Jason’s voice. There was a quick knock and the door opened. “There you are, Tyler,” Jason said. “Ah, that’s where Kevin slutted off to. Mind if we join you?”
“Sure man,” Tyler replied, meeting Jason’s eyes in the mirror, a smug, diabolical smirk spreading across his face. Austin stood next to Jason but he seemed focused on me. Was that concern I saw in his eyes? The hell? No. Tyler was still talking. “I figured since everybody was busy with the cumdumpster, I’d sample the pussy.”
A look skated across Jason’s face. It was fleeting and if you didn’t know what you were looking for you’d easily miss it. I saw it the night Jason had bitched Jon and knew what was about to happen.
“I’m gonna do a line,” Jason said, holding up a small baggie filled with a white powder as he walked into the en suite bathroom. “You in?” he asked Tyler and Austin.
“Fuck yeah,” Tyler said, pulling out of and giving my ass a playful smack before he tucked his erect cock into his briefs and pulled on his track pants. He pulled his shirt on and adjusted his dick as he swaggered to the bathroom.
I saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he bent over and snorted. He stood up and wiped his nostril as Jason leaned over the counter.
They came back into the bedroom and Tyler looked at me and nodded to Jason. “You mind,” he asked as he squeezed his dick. “You sort of interrupted me before I--”
“Not at all,” Jason said. “Go for it.”
Tyler pulled me off the bed and pushed me down to my knees. He stepped in front of me, pulled his dick out, and slid it across the seam of my pursed lips. I opened at once.
“You trained him well,” he said to Jason as he slid into my mouth.
“Kevin’s a natural,” Jason replied as he cupped the back of my head and held it in place as Tyler began to thrust. “Wait till he starts begging for it.”
My inhibitions were gone and I put one hand on Tyler’s hip while I wrapped the other around my cock and tugged as he fucked my mouth. I felt Austin’s thick index finger circle my slick, puckered hole before pushing in.
“Mmmmm,” I moaned, closing my eyes, as my hand sped up on my cock.
After a few minutes a second finger slipped into my ass and I felt Tyler’s thrusting began to hitch and lag. I opened my eyes and peered up at him. He looked unsteady and out of it. Jason slid next to him.
“That wasn’t coke,” he said to Tyler, pulling him off me and pinning his arms behind his back. His hard dick bobbed and waved.
“What the fuck?” Tyler slurred.
“No, it was ketamine - Special K - and you’re high as a kite right now.”
“Wha--” Tyler started to say before his voice faded out and he slumped against Jason, his eyes going vacant.
Jason cupped Tyler’s balls and gave them a rough squeeze before yanking his track pants down and off. Then he grabbed Tyler’s hard. “Let’s get back to the party, shall we?” he said as he hustled a dazed, zombie-like Tyler out of the room, leading him by his erect dick.
Austin sat me down on the bed. “Stay here,” he instructed before he followed Jason out the door, calling over his shoulder. “Party’s over.”
“What?”
“You heard him,” Jon said as he squeezed into the room and shut the door. He dropped my clothes in front of me and helped me to my feet. “Get moving.”
His hair was disheveled and he’d haphazardly dressed - shirt inside out and shoes untied. He caught his rumpled appearance in the mirror and swore under his breath as he stripped off his shirt and righted it.
“I’ll have you know I’m going fucking commando because some perv has my underwear in his mouth slobbering all over it.”
He sat on the bed and watched me dress as he tied his shoes. Both our phones and wallets were on the bed and he reached for his phone, swiping and tapping at the screen.
“What’re you doing?” I asked as I slid my underwear and jeans on before awkwardly struggling into my shirt.
“Ordering us a Lyft,” he replied as he looked at his screen. “It’ll be here in… Christ, nine fucking minutes?” He slipped his phone in his pocket and came over to help me. He pulled my jeans up, buttoning and zipping them for me.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he put my socks and shoes on.
I shook my head as I watched him tie my shoes. What I recalled of Tyler’s fucking was that it had been thrilling in its savageness. My empty hole clenched at the sense of loss. Jon took my chin in his hand and tipped my face up.
“What did he give you?” he asked, all business-like now, looking into my eyes as he rested his other hand on my cheek.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, comforted by his touch. My tongue felt thick and I knew I was tripping over my words. “GHB, maybe?”
He grimaced. “Yeah, I think that’s what they tried to give me, too. I feel a little spacy but I think the adrenaline’s burned through most of it.”
He looked at his phone again and sat down next to me. “And,” he said as he cupped my crotch through my jeans and, fuck if he didn’t smirk and waggle his eyebrows, “judging from this rebar in your jeans, it’s a pretty good bet there was Viagra mixed in yours.”
“No, I think that’s all me,” I said, and his eyes widened.
“Kevin Brady, you naughty, naughty boy,” he laughed.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Hey, I’m gonna need your help to get moving.”
“I got you,” he said, hauling me to my feet and to the door. “Let’s go.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Jon said. “I didn’t have time to ask your boyfriend any questions.”
“My what?” But all I got back was that brilliant smile of his.
“Ass.”
“You love my ass,” he shot back as we slipped into the hall - one hand on my bicep and the other on the small of my back - and moved toward the front of the house.
We paused at the open door to the ‘playroom’ and saw Tyler down on his knees, eyes wide and glassy, a look of shocked surprise on his handsome face as Jason’s cock thrust roughly in and out of his slack mouth. His shirt had been stripped off and lay in tatters on the floor next to him, and he was wearing just his black briefs. They were stretched tautly across his muscled ass and impressive package and looked as if they were working overtime to keep the massive bulge of his cock contained. From my vantage point at the door, it was obvious it was a losing battle.
His dick jutted up at an angle, ramrod stiff, tenting the thin cotton fabric and pushing it out a good inch away from his flat belly.
Even from where I was standing, I could see his prick was drooling so much pre-cum that the front of the briefs were shiny and slick, and if the wide-eyed, bewildered expression on his face was any indication, he was completely confused as to why he had a leaking boner or why he was so greedily sucking Jason’s dick.
The look on Jason’s face was pure pleasure. “Oh yeah, five minutes ago you were fucking Pussy like some Alpha and here you are now, unable to stop sucking my dick,” he goaded. He pulled out of Tyler’s mouth and gave his package a gentle nudge with his foot. “Look, you’re hard as fuck and leaking like a faucet.”
I watched as Tyler glanced down at his crotch. His dick seemed to lengthen and grow as it pulsed and throbbed in the confines of his briefs. He looked up at Jason, as if to say something, but whatever it might have been, it was muffled as Jason shoved his cock back into his mouth and resumed fucking it in earnest.
Snot and spit ran from Tyler’s nose and dick-stuffed mouth, down his chin, and dripped onto the tiled floor beneath as he gagged on Jason’s dick. Any gag reflex he may have had was long gone.
“Oh yeah, take that all the way down your fuckin’ throat,” Jason growled, both hands holding Tyler’s head in place as he fucked his mouth, his hips pumping like pistons as his ball sack bounced off Tyler’s chin.
Tyler’s face was a wet mess. His cheeks and chin were covered in spit that was still spilling from his lips. The wet gagging noises continued for a couple more minutes before Jason pulled out in time to shoot his load across Tyler’s face. Streams of cum rocketed out of his pulsing dick and splashed against Tyler’s forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. The cum and spit made his face look like it was glazed.
“Kevin is MY property,” Jason said as he slapped his dick across Tyler’s face.
Tyler knelt dazed, face coated in sweat and semen, lips puffy from sucking cock, probably wondering what happened. Probably wondering why and how he was down on his knees, fully erect and dripping, while another man flogged his face with his dick.
I watched as the muscles in his spectacular ass flexed and clenched, rippling under the black cotton. I wanted to ask Jason if I could have a piece of it.
“He’s ready for you, boy,” Jason said to Nic and Charlie. They hurried over and pulled Tyler to his feet.
“Let’s get you hooked up over here, why don’t we?”
“What the fuck,” Tyler slurred as they guided pulled him to his feet and guided him to the weight bench.
“Easy now,” Nic said, putting his hands on Tyler’s broad shoulders and easing the dazed stud onto his back. They straddled his legs on either side of the bench, which served to highlight and showcase the huge bulge in his Calvins, as they cuffed his wrists and hung them from the rafter. They put poppers to Tyler’s nose and encouraged him to inhale. He did and moaned, his body arching up off the bench.
As he groaned and rutted, Nic stripped his briefs off him and then cuffed his ankles to the spreader bar. He pulled at the rope until Tyler’s hole was exposed and he got to work preparing it for Jason.
Tyler grunted and his body bucked when Nic’s lubed index finger breached his chute and began to saw in and out. A minute later a second finger joined the first and Tyler cried out as his hole was stretched and spread.
“Fuck,” he moaned as the fingers crooked and turned, finding the bundle of nerves of his prostate. Tyler threw back his head and pushed onto the fingers, his voice a low, throaty rumble that filled the room.
Nic inserted the index fingers of his other hand into Tyler’s ass and began a wider stretch and pull. A minute later a fourth finger joined it and he was finally ready.
“That’s it,” Charlie said as he flicked Tyler’s erection while Nic lowered and uncuffed his legs. “He’s ready for you, Jason.”
“We’ve got a nice line up of guys for you, Tyler,” Jason said as he ran his finger lightly over Tyler’s six-pack abs. “These cumgutters are gonna be overflowing with spunk by the time we’re done with you.”
Jason stepped in and lifted Tyler’s muscular legs onto his shoulders, letting them drape over his back. Then he pushed into him unceremoniously.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jon said, snapping me back to the present.
“What?”
“Come on, before he changes his mind,” Jon urged, grabbing my elbow and moving us away from the crowd and back into the house. “I didn’t like that ‘my property’ bullshit.”
As we left we could hear Tyler moaning as Jason pounded into him, initiating him into his new role as a bottom.
Just then somebody stepped in front of us and I recognized him as one of the guys who’d tried to tickle Jon. “Where you going, Cumdumpster?” he asked drunkenly as he reached out a hand to stroke Jon’s side. “Coochie-coochie-coo!”
Jon swung at the guy, his right fist catching him in an uppercut under the jaw. He crumpled and Jon stepped over him, giving him a quick kick in the ass for good measure as he guided me past him.
We reached the front door with no further incidents and were halfway down the front sidewalk when our rideshare pulled up.
“Um, I don’t know dude,” the hipster driver said in a nasally voice as Jon settled me into the seat and buckled my seatbelt. “He’s not gonna puke is he? ‘Cause that’ll cost--”
“He’s not going to puke,” Jon interrupted, his voice terse. “He’s fine.”
“I dunno,” the driver persisted. “He looks--”
“Oh, for fuck sake,” Jon grumbled in exasperation. He held up his badge and gestured to mine. “Police business,” he growled. “Drive.”
Hipster Boy’s eyes widened and he looked like a kid in a candy shop. “Yessir!”
We reached the lot where Jon had parked and drove back to my condo in silence.
“Look, Jon,” I said as he punched in my code and pulled into the underground garage. “I’m really sorry - again - for getting you into this.”
Jon parked and stared silently out the front windshield. When he didn’t reply I nodded and reached for my door.
“Kevin,” he said quickly, his arm shooting out to grab my wrist. “I’m not upset with you. This isn’t your fault.”
“If I hadn’t--” My voice caught but I made myself continue. “Two weeks ago - the Monday I called in sick - he, Jason, came here at lunch. He pounded on the door and shouted until I let him in and then he fu-- I let him fuck me--”
“Kevin--”
“No,” I interrupted, shaking my head furiously, wiping at the tears that streamed down my cheeks. “Maybe if I’d gone to the Lieutenant. Maybe if I hadn’t--”
“If you hadn’t what?” Jon asked, taking my hand. “Gone to the party that night? Gotten drugged? Discovered, what - that you liked how it felt? Well, you know what? I’d be lying if I said I didn’t somehow like what happened to me.”
I must’ve had some kind of look of my face because he laughed. “Hey, I’m not going to lie to you,” he said, dropping my hand and running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t remember everything that happened that night and I’m definitely not okay with how things went down today, but some of it… well, some of it felt pretty fucking awesome.”
“So then--”
“No,” he interrupted again with a shake of his head. “I-- that is, we… WE never had a choice. We were never asked if we wanted this. He - they - took our choice from us. Did it turn out to be something we enjoyed? Sure, but that’s not the point. We were drugged, Kev. Drugged, compromised, and blackmailed. That’s shitty and definitely not okay.”
I sat back and looked at him, quietly mulling over what he said to me. Then he reached out and put his hand on the back of my head. “I love you, Kevin,” he said, leaning in so our foreheads were pressed together. “You’re my partner and my best friend and nothing’s going to change that. Ever. Do you understand?”
I nodded furiously, tears blurring my vision as I choked up, not trusting my voice to speak. I dashed at the tears with the back of my hand.
He sat back. “I’m gonna crash here tonight, okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” I said, so relieved. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. “Thanks.”
“Cool. I’m gonna swing by my place and shower and grab some stuff for tomorrow. I’ll pick up some Thai on my way back.”
“Sounds good,” I said as I got out of his SUV. I could use a shower myself. “See you in a while.”
I showered and dressed and was making up the guest room when I got a text from a number I didn’t recognize. There was a link to a video site and I figured it was something of me or Jon. I was wrong. It was of Tyler.
I decided to mirror it from my iPhone to my AppleTV instead of watching it on the tiny screen.
It was a snippet of a longer scene. Tyler was on his knees in front of Nic and Charlie, holding both their dicks in one hand and gazing at them almost adoringly. His face was covered with a thin sheen of what looked like cum and slobber, and even in his obviously drugged state, I could see he wanted to suck both cocks.
His brows furrowed and he looked from one to the other before he started to lick them side-by-side, like they were a big ice cream cone. After fifteen seconds or so, Jason placed his hand on the back of his head and forced him down.
Now, being the physical Alpha jock he was, it was a bit of a surprise to see how easily he acquiesced, going down without any resistance. And when he opened his mouth wider than I’d figured he could, and took both glistening cockheads into his mouth, I gasped and squeezed my suddenly aching prong through my jeans.
Jason held a bottle of poppers to his nose and told him to inhale as Nic and Charlie began to hump his mouth. Again, no hesitation. Instant obedience. Shit!
“Come on and suck, faggot,” Jason snapped as the two cocks fucked his mouth, and damn if that hot mouth of his didn’t easily accommodate those two fat knobs as they flashed in and out of his willing, hungry maw.
This went on for a good couple of minutes, Tyler grunting while he sucked, drool running from his mouth, until you could see Nic and Charlie start to tense. Then, as if on cue, Jason grabbed Tyler by his thick hair and pulled him off, holding his head in place as Nic and Charlie gave their cocks a last couple of tugs before they began to shoot.
“Take it, faggot,” Jason said as the first thick blast ricocheted off Tyler’s lips and tongue, leaving a creamy trail across his cheek and neck. The next several blasts hit him square in the face before they shoved their cocks back into his mouth.
Fuck!
The clip jumped and the next scene was Tyler lying on his back with his legs spread and lifted. His hole had been shaved bare and looked like a smooth, pink pussy. Of course, after being pounded by several guys it was swollen, puffy and stretched, and there was cum leaking everywhere. Jason fisted his hand in Tyler’s hair and raised his head to face the camera. His handsome face was shellacked with cum.
“Tyler here’s our new jock pussy, aren’t ya, Ty?”
“Fuck me,” Tyler groaned, his eyes wide and pupils blown. “Somebody please fuck me.”
“Don’t worry,” Jason said as he patted his cheek. “There are still plenty of takers outside.”
The camera pulled back and I did a double-take when I saw that they’d dressed him in Jon’s ‘Cumdumpster’ t-shirt.
I was still staring at the TV when Jon came back. He had a six-pack of Pacifico and a fifth of Maker’s Mark. I arched my eyebrow but didn’t say anything.
“Don’t judge,” he groused. “I had a rough day.”
“Not as rough as Tyler,” I said, holding out my phone and nodding at the TV.
“Holy shit,” he said as he watched the video clips. He was standing about two feet away and, at crotch level, I could see the swelling in his jeans.
“It was a set-up then?” he asked, handing me back my phone before he walked into the kitchen. “Tyler was the mark all along?”
“I don’t know,” I said, flipping the TV to a baseball game. “Kind of looks that way but I don’t see it.”
He came back with a couple of glasses. He poured himself a drink, eyed me, and held up the bottle in inquiry.
“Oh fuck yes,” I said.
An hour later we were both buzzing pretty good. Jon reached for the remote and turned the volume down. “Did he… Tyler. Did he hurt you?”
I was slumped next to him on the couch, my head resting on the cushion. I was still staring at the TV screen but shook my head. “No.”
He nodded and took a sip of his drink. “Did you, um, like it?”
I looked at him then. “Would you think less of me if I said I did?”
He gave me an exasperated look. “Kevin.” He sounded annoyed. “No. Of course not.”
“Then yeah,” I shrugged. “I liked it.”
He nodded again and smiled, almost boyishly. “Yeah, and other than being tickled half to death and, you know, what we talked about before, I liked it too.”
I finished my beer and we sat still for a few minutes, neither of us speaking. Jon set his empty glass on the coffee table next to my and grabbed the bottle of Maker’s Mark. He took a long pull from it.
“Fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “I never knew I was a bottom.”
“Or that you were so ticklish.” I reached over and poked him in the ribs. He gasped and giggled. I did it again.
“Stop,” he laughed, fumbling the bottle onto the coffee table. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” I asked innocently as I pounced on him, my hands scrabbling over his ribs and into his armpits.
“That,” he gasped again. “Stop!” He grabbed for my hands but I caught both his wrists in my right hand and continued to tickle him with my left. He shrieked and tried to throw me off. I could see how hard he was and realized I was hard as well.
I thought back to earlier in the day to what Austin had said to me. “Turns out Johnny Boy’s a total cockslut. Get him aroused, feel him up a bit, and - bam! - a real cumdumpster.”
I kept him off balance with my tickling, alternating between his ribs, armpits, belly button and inner thighs. His body thrashed about, bucking and writhing under me as he laughed and panted and squealed. Before I knew it, our wrestling match had somehow moved down the hall and into my bedroom, Jon kicking free of his jeans while stripping his t-shirt over his head.
A fuck-lust overtook me and I pushed him onto my large California King bed. He gave a sharp yelp as he tumbled backward.
I crawled onto the bed and straddled him. My eyes raked over every inch of his body - from the bulge straining his grey briefs to his parted lips - before they settled on his eyes. His pupils were blown. I took his left nipple between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed, just hard enough that the bud puffed tenderly. He moaned and spread his legs, his eyes continuing to darken until the pupils swallowed the golden brown. I squeezed again, harder this time, and he groaned and grabbed my wrist. He clamped tightly and the message was clear: he wanted more.
I tweaked both nipples and he arched into the touch, panting, his face twisted in a mask of pain and pleasure.
One hand still strumming a nipple, I let the other rove down over the flat planes of his chest to the rippled muscles in his stomach, and finally to the hard length still trapped in his briefs. He bucked and moaned as I palmed him, thrusting into my hand and grunting as he reached up and mussed my hair, fingers grasping for purchase.
“Kevin!”
He slid forward, the hard ridge of his dick tenting his soft cotton briefs, which were stretched tautly across his narrow hips. He rutted upwards and the pre-cum seeping through the light grey cotton turned the fabric a darker color and called out in invitation to my sex-fevered mind. I bent down between his splayed legs and licked the wet spot that had formed, tonguing the cleft of his fat plum through the material, the salty-sweet slick like ambrosia on my tongue. I nibbled up and down the length of his shaft, my mouth hot and wet as it worshipped his throbbing cock. I brushed my fingers over the crack of his ass, gently stroking his quivering hole.
“Oh fuck, Kev,” he groaned, his voice low and guttural, “that feels so fucking good. Please.”
“Please what, Jon?” I freed his cock from his briefs and tucked the elastic waistband under his nuts, applying just the right amount of pressure as I went. His dick unfurled and rose like a flag of surrender, pulsing and twitching as it slapped his belly. I smiled.
“What?” he asked, his voice a growl. “What are you smiling at?”
“Just taking a moment to appreciate what you’ve got here.”
He grunted as I took him into my mouth and his whole body tightened. I ghosted down the fat length of his cock and his hips shook beneath me.
He smelled wonderful. Tasted wonderful too. Strong but clean.
I sucked the head of his cock, a wet hot deep kiss, as I drew him in. His hips rocked up and I inhaled him, tracing the slit with my tongue.
His head tossed on the pillow, his hands tangled in my hair, as he tugged me closer.
“Kevin…” That single word made it easy to ignore my own increasing discomfort. This was all about Jon.
I took my time and soon he was thrusting down my throat, his lean body arching, hips pumping impatiently. I sucked him hard and then nibbled, soft and sweet. I increased suction. Then slow and easy.
“Don’t stop,” he got out, his voice harsh and unsteady.
I smiled around that rigid thickness, reached beneath and gently fingered his balls.
His head fell back on the pillow and he groaned as he began to cum, his body shivering.
“Was it good for you?”
He looked at me, blinking, and gave a funny sort of half-smile.
“Good,” I said, “because now it’s my turn,” I said as I pulled his legs up and over my shoulders and lined up my cock to his hole.
To be continued.