t had been a long three weeks, and finals were killing me. I barely saw Levi except in passing. Don’t get me wrong—I’m a horny fucker, but I wanted to be a highly educated horny fucker. My priorities were my classes, not him, even if he looked so good I could hardly stand it.
I loved watching the recorded footage of Levi getting dressed, showering, and jerking off. I loved it. But we had little contact at the moment.
What I did know was that he was on the rocks with his girl, Amber.
“What do you mean? I thought you said tonight, baby?” I overheard Levi saying on the phone, his tone caught somewhere between pleading and annoyed. There was a pause, followed by some muffled chatter I couldn’t make out.
“Well, it’s been three weeks—are we ever doing it again?” His voice was louder now, edged with frustration. He paced his room, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to hold himself together.
Then came the yelling—Amber’s voice sharp and cutting through the speaker. Whatever she said hit him hard because Levi suddenly launched his phone across the room, the crash echoing off the walls.
I watched him sink onto the edge of his bed, shoulders tense, head in his hands. It was almost pathetic, really. Here was Levi—hot as hell, practically perfect—and he was completely wrapped around Amber’s finger.
I was honestly surprised that someone like Levi was having trouble getting laid. That was until I ran into his girl, Amber, in the library, sitting with her two friends at a corner table. I kept my head down, hoodie up, pretending to be lost in my laptop, but their voices carried loud and clear.
“Oh yeah, he’s mine,” Amber said, tossing her hair over her shoulder like she was showing off a trophy. “And ooooh,” she sighed dramatically, “he’s such a fucking sex toy. You have no idea.”
Her friend Antona, a tall Black girl with nails sharp enough to slice glass, threw her head back laughing. “Girl, you playin’,” she said, smirking. “You keep making that man wait too long, and he’s gonna go lookin’ for some other hoe.” She snapped her fingers for emphasis, making all three of them laugh.
Amber, unfazed, leaned in with a wicked grin. “Please. You know I love making them wait for this kitty kat,” she said, running her finger over her lips as if sealing a secret. “I send him short clips and videos—just enough to keep him interested, but not enough to let him forget who’s in control.”
Jessica, the blonde with the overdone lashes, gasped. “That’s cruel!” she said, barely hiding her envy. “Levi is so fucking hot. I’d be riding him till the start of next semester.”
Amber shrugged, like Jessica’s praise for Levi was obvious. “You know how I do it,” she said, her tone dripping with confidence. “I make them so bothered, so fucking frustrated, that they’ll do anything for me. By the time I’m done, they’re kitty-whipped.” She pointed to her crotch with a smirk, like she had the key to Levi’s every move.
“No lie, bitch, I need to try that,” Antona said, raising her perfectly arched brows as she took a sip from her iced coffee.
Amber leaned back in her chair, basking in her own brilliance. “It’s all about control, ladies,” she said, tapping her long nails on the table. “You’ve gotta let them think they’re getting close, just enough to make them desperate. Trust me, Levi’s not going anywhere.”
The three of them burst into laughter again, their voices carrying through the quiet library. I stayed perfectly still, head down, eyes glued to my screen, even though I wasn’t typing a damn thing.
So that was her game. I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. Levi was nothing more than a pawn in her little power trip, strung along by her beauty and the promise of something he wasn’t going to get. She was a manipulative, self-absorbed hoe, and Levi was too blind—or too horny—to see it.
I kept my head down, hidden under my hoodie, pretending to be engrossed in my laptop and music. Amber and her friends were so wrapped up in their conversation they never even glanced my way. Perfect.
So, that’s her game, I thought to myself. Control Levi using sex as a weapon. I had to admit, I admired her cunning. She was just as much of a manipulative hoe as I suspected, stringing him along like a puppet with a mix of teasing and denial. But what she didn’t know—what none of them knew—was that her little power play was about to work in my favor.
This sex drought she had Levi trapped in was exactly what I needed. She’d set the perfect stage, and I was going to be the one who stepped in to take advantage of it.
Later that evening, I checked the cameras in the apartment and saw Levi getting ready for the gym. He was in his room, shirtless, standing in front of the mirror. His body was flawless—every muscle flexed as he turned, admiring himself. I couldn’t help but smirk. He probably thought this would impress Amber, that she’d finally cave after seeing how good he looked.
Poor bastard. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. I could already picture her sending him a suggestive little text or a short clip, just enough to rile him up before she pulled the rug out from under him again. He’d come home angry and frustrated, just like I was counting on.
That was the thing about Levi—he was predictable. Amber had him wrapped so tight around her finger he couldn’t see the game she was playing. But I could. I saw everything.
I leaned back in my chair, watching as Levi finished his flexing routine and grabbed his gym bag. Tonight was going to be one of those nights where everything went exactly as I wanted. Amber would tease, Levi would boil over with frustration, and I’d be waiting, ready to give him what he didn’t even know he wanted yet.
Because unlike Amber, I wasn’t interested in keeping Levi at arm’s length. I wanted him, all of him, and I wasn’t afraid to use the situation—or her games—to make it happen.
When I got home, I immediately got to work. Everything had to be perfect for tonight—every detail accounted for. I started with the brownies, the special ones. I knew exactly how much to use, the balance between indulgence and effect. This wasn’t just about the taste; it was about creating the right atmosphere, the right mood.
Once they were baked and cooled, I carefully threw two of them away in a paper bag, making sure to bury it deep in the trash where Levi wouldn’t see it. He might be frustrated and distracted, but he wasn’t stupid. I couldn’t leave anything out of place.
Next came the wine. I pulled out a bottle of red—something smooth, something inviting—and poured three glasses. One for him, one for me, and a third to make it look like I’d started celebrating early. I left just enough of a mess on the counter to sell the idea: a used corkscrew, an empty wine bottle on its side, crumbs scattered near the brownie tray. It had to look casual, like I’d been too tired to clean up after myself.
For Levi’s glass, I poured a little more than usual and placed it prominently on the counter. I wanted it to be the first thing he’d see when he walked in, a silent invitation, a suggestion that tonight was about unwinding.
The setup was subtle but intentional. I wanted him to believe that I’d started the night without him—celebrating finals, indulging in some wine and brownies—before crashing early. I wanted him to let his guard down, to think this was just a coincidence, a lucky opportunity for him to blow off some steam.
After everything was in place, I took a shower, the water scalding hot, and rubbed myself down with my favorite body oil. The scent was perfect—manly, with a hint of vanilla. Not overpowering, but just enough to linger if he got close.
By the time I was done, the apartment was ready, and so was I. Levi would come home angry and frustrated, just like I knew he would. He’d see the wine, smell the brownies, and let his walls come down. I knew his patterns too well to be wrong about this.
Everything was set. Now, all I had to do was wait.
It was 11 PM when I heard the distinct sound of Levi’s truck speeding down the road to the apartment. “Shit,” I thought. He wasn’t supposed to be home until much later.
I stripped naked, letting my clothes fall carelessly to the floor. My body was lean but toned, the result of hours at the gym and careful attention to every detail. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror—smooth skin, taut muscles, and just the right amount of definition. My chest and abs glistened faintly under the soft light from the bedside lamp, still carrying the warmth of the shower I’d just taken.
I’d gone all out tonight. My skin was soft, freshly scrubbed, and lightly scented with my favorite body oil—a masculine blend with a subtle hint of vanilla. It wasn’t overpowering, but enough to catch attention if someone got close. My hair was damp and slightly tousled, giving me that effortlessly casual look I knew worked in my favor.
The sheets were cool against my skin as I slid into bed. The room was dark except for the soft glow of the muted TV. I adjusted the covers, letting them fall just low enough to highlight the line of my hips, my body relaxed but ready. I wasn’t just lying there—I was a picture of ease, of temptation, perfectly composed for what I knew was coming next.
I leaned back, one arm draped across my stomach, the other resting near the edge of the bed. If Levi came in, if he dared to take a second look, he wouldn’t be able to miss how good I looked—how ready I was without looking like I’d planned it. Every detail was deliberate, right down to the way the sheets barely covered me.
The door slammed shut with enough force to rattle the frame, and I could hear Levi muttering under his breath. “Fucking bitch,” he growled, his voice low and sharp with anger. “What the fuck!”
His footsteps were heavy, each one pounding against the floor like he was trying to stomp out his frustration. I heard the sound of his gym bag hitting the wall, followed by a loud sigh as he paced the living room. He was seething, the kind of frustration that built up over weeks and had nowhere to go.
There was a pause, the quiet filled only by his uneven breathing. Then, another sharp exhale, almost like a growl, as if he couldn’t contain it anymore. Levi was boiling over, and it was written in every sound he made, every movement, every muffled curse that escaped his lips.
I grabbed my phone and tapped into the camera feed, catching Levi as he stormed into his room. His movements were sharp, filled with anger, but even in his frustration, he looked incredible. He ripped off his shirt, tossing it to the side, revealing his broad chest and defined abs, the muscles flexing with every breath he took. His skin glistened faintly under the dim light, a sheen of sweat catching the shadows just right.
He kicked off his sneakers and yanked down his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a jockstrap that was clearly too small for him. It hugged him in all the right places, the band riding low on his hips, accentuating his V-line and leaving little to the imagination and then in his frustration he pulled them off revealing his enlarged balls and bouncy cock as he moved around looking for some shorts. I could almost feel the heat radiating off him, his frustration making every movement more intense, more captivating.
Levi grabbed a pair of gym shorts and pulled them on quickly, the fabric clinging to his thighs as he adjusted them with an annoyed tug. He slipped on some worn slippers, his expression dark as he stormed out of the room, shirtless and still fuming. Even in his anger, he carried himself with that natural confidence that made him impossible to ignore.
I quickly buried my phone under the covers, listening to the heavy thud of his footsteps as he stomped into the living room. My pulse quickened, but I stayed still, waiting for the perfect moment to act.
I heard the clink of the glass as Levi picked it up from the counter. He didn’t hesitate, downing the wine in one long gulp. A satisfied exhale followed, like he needed that more than he realized. The sound of the brownie tray being pulled closer came next, and then the soft rustle of the napkin as he grabbed one.
A moment of silence stretched out as he chewed. I imagined him glancing around the kitchen, taking in the half-empty wine bottle, the scattered crumbs, and the small mess I’d deliberately left on the counter. His eyes would have fallen on the note I’d placed there—simple, understated, but perfectly timed: We did it.
“Shit,” I heard him mutter, his voice low and almost uncertain. He was putting the pieces together now. To him, it probably looked like I’d started celebrating the end of finals without him, just kicking back with some wine and brownies before calling it an early night. I knew Levi well enough to know that kind of setup would lower his guard, make him feel like he’d stumbled into something casual, unplanned.
Minutes passed, and I could hear him pacing in the living room. Maybe he was still working through the wine and brownie haze, or maybe he was just trying to decide what to do next. Either way, I stayed perfectly still, listening, waiting.
Finally, the floor creaked under his weight as he made his way down the hall. The sound grew closer, deliberate but slightly hesitant, until he was just outside my door. My heart quickened as I heard the soft click of the handle turning.
I heard the door creak open, and then Levi’s voice, low and slurred, carrying that familiar twang. “Hey, Leo,” he said, his tone warm but slightly uneven. The wine and brownies were working their magic, softening his frustration, loosening his inhibitions.
“Hey, buddy,” he murmured as he stepped into the room, moving carefully, trying not to disturb me. His gaze flicked to the muted TV, then over to me, lying motionless under the sheets. I shifted slightly, just enough to make it look like I was stirring, bothered by the noise. He paused for a moment, standing in the doorway as if deciding whether to stay or go.
He started to leave, but then he stopped, hesitating. He turned back, his eyes scanning the room, landing on the nightstand, then the bed, searching for the remote.
Excellent, I thought, feeling the anticipation rise in my chest. I adjusted myself subtly, shifting under the sheets so that the soft curve of my cock was barely visible. Just enough. The light from the TV cast faint shadows across the bed, highlighting the outline. I stayed perfectly still, feigning sleep, my breathing even.
“Oh,” Levi whispered, the word barely audible, his voice tinged with surprise.
This was the moment I’d been waiting for. I needed to see if he’d act on his own, if the wine, the brownies, and his pent-up frustration would push him over the edge. Our first encounter, when he was high, had been carefully orchestrated. I’d given him a taste of what was possible, planted the seed. Tonight, I needed to know if it had taken root—if he’d come to me willingly, without a nudge.
I felt the mattress dip slightly as he leaned in closer. His hand brushed against the edge of the sheets, then hesitated. A moment later, I felt the faintest touch against my cock, his fingers grazing it lightly through the fabric. His breath followed, warm and slow against my skin.
He was breathing me in, his face close to my crotch. I could feel him hesitating, his mind likely racing with a mix of temptation and uncertainty. I fought the urge to react, to give anything away. My body wanted to respond, but I forced myself to stay relaxed, to wait.
“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, the word barely audible but heavy with need.
Then, as if surrendering to the inevitable, he climbed onto the bed between my legs. His weight pressed into the mattress, and I could feel the heat of his body close to mine.
“Come on,” I told myself silently. “Hold on.”
This was it—the test. Would he give in completely? Would he let the temptation, the frustration, and the carefully laid trap pull him under? My heart raced, but I stayed perfectly still, knowing the moment was just about to tip in my favor.
Then I felt it—soft, tentative, but undeniably intentional. His tongue, just the tip, traced the sensitive head of my cock. It was slow, almost experimental, as if he was testing the boundaries, feeling out his own desires. My entire body tensed, the electric sensation coursing through me, but I fought the urge to react. I had to hold on, and had to see where this would lead.
His breath grew heavier, and then I felt his tongue again, this time running over my nuts. One, then the other, warm and wet, lingering just long enough to make my pulse race. His breathing was louder now, uneven, like he was wrestling with something inside himself. He paused, pulling back, and for a moment, the heat of his presence was gone.
I kept perfectly still, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it—the moment of truth. Would he give in, or would he retreat? I had pushed him far during our first encounter, but this time was different. This time, there was no invitation, no overt encouragement. It had to be his choice, driven by the pent-up lust I knew he was drowning in—and maybe, just maybe, the subtle coaxing of the spiked treats I’d left for him.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, the words slurred but resolute. The bed shifted under his weight as he climbed back on. I felt his hand on me, tentative at first, then firm as he wrapped his fingers around my shaft, giving it a slow, deliberate squeeze. My pulse quickened as I felt the heat of his breath again, closer this time.
Then, without hesitation, he took me into his mouth.
The wet warmth enveloped me, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from gasping. His tongue moved with surprising confidence now, swirling around the head before sliding deeper. His moan vibrated against me, sending a shiver down my spine as I grew and filled his mouth. I could feel the tension in the air, the weight of his own surrender as he gave himself over to the moment.
I stayed still, letting him take the lead, letting him decide just how far he wanted to go. But deep down, I already knew. He was mine now, whether he realized it or not.
He shifted lower, letting my cock slap back against my stomach as he took one of my balls into his mouth. His tongue worked over it, wet and deliberate, before moving to the other. “Mmm,” he moaned, savoring every moment. I had to fight every urge to buck my hips or groan—I couldn’t break the illusion.
Then, without warning, he moved back to my cock and took me deeper than before. To my surprise, he started to push himself further, jamming my length into his throat. His gag reflex fought back, but he didn’t stop, groaning and gurgling as he swallowed me whole.
“Slurp, slurp,” the sound filled the room as he began to skull-fuck himself on my cock. His free hand gripped the edge of the bed for balance as his other hand pumped his own cock furiously. It was amazing to see, face down ass up…my mirror giving me the best back view of his pink hole winking at me.
“Arghh,” Levi grunted, the vibrations traveling through his throat. His breathing grew ragged, and the bed shook with his effort. He was relentless, giving me everything he had as though he were trying to prove something to himself—or maybe to me.
I felt him tense up. He was close. His moans grew louder, his hand moving in a blur as he neared the edge.
And then it happened.
“Mmghh—yeaahhhh,” he moaned, his body convulsing as his orgasm hit. His cock jerked in his hand, spilling onto the sheets below. He buried his face in my crotch as the tremors wracked his body, muffling his cries against my skin.
The vibrations of his release sent a wave of pleasure through me, but I pinched the inside of my arm, focusing on the slight pain to stop myself from following him over the edge. I couldn’t cum—not yet.
As his breathing slowed, Levi pulled off my cock with a gasp, his lips wet and swollen. He staggered back, reaching for the tissues on my nightstand. “Shit,” he muttered as he cleaned himself up and the sheets as best as he could, his hands trembling slightly. He glanced at me briefly, as if checking to see if I was awake, but my soft cock and steady breathing must have reassured him.
Satisfied, he turned off my TV, quietly left the room, and closed the door behind him.
I waited a few moments before sitting up, grabbing my phone. I watched him through the cameras as he walked into the kitchen, downed an entire bottle of Gatorade, and wiped himself off with paper towels. He looked exhausted, standing in the dim light of the kitchen, his chest rising and falling as he stared blankly ahead.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced down at it, and I was sure it was Amber. But instead of answering, he silenced the call and tossed his phone onto the counter. Without another word, he shuffled to his room, climbed into bed, and lay there, staring at the ceiling.
Perfect, I thought. He’s feeling something—remorse, confusion, or maybe just uncertainty. But I knew he loved it. Deep down, he couldn’t deny how good it felt.
And now that I had seen him give in, I knew I could make him mine. It was just a matter of time. A few more steps, and Levi would be exactly where I wanted him.
Through the camera, I watched as he turned onto his side, pulling the covers up. His breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. Amber’s name lit up his phone again, but he ignored it, letting it buzz in the dark.
Smiling to myself, I closed the app and lay back down. This was only the beginning.
