Tristan's POV
“Tristan! Dude! I was starting to think that you weren’t coming!” Ty exclaims as he grabs my hand, our shoulders connecting as I pat him on that spot in between his shoulder blades. He smells of sweat, weed and some random chick’s perfume. His neck is sparkly, too sparkly for sweat though. He’s gotten started on the festivities early then, the fucker. When he pulls back he notices that he’s spilt some of his beer while leaning in. He raises his hand, his eyes still on me as he licks at his beer-coated fingers curled around the glass. He hums appreciatively, a deep rumble, before taking another hit of his drink. His opened shirt reveals his bare chest but he makes no move to fix it. And he shouldn’t. Bro deserves to show off all of his gains. His pecs flex unconsciously as he moves to the music, his eyes roaming the dancefloor – probably looking for a quick fuck.
Can’t blame him though. I’ve been so locked in this semester that my sex life has reverted back to me fucking fleshlights and wiping down the cum with socks I toss underneath my bed. My girl, Kayla, doesn’t seem to care about how backed up I am. Fuck, I respect it but a dude has to unload himself into a hot hole. It’s just fucking natural. She’s studying law and sometimes we schedule study sessions at her place cause she lives alone. I always end up bored and horny and try to send her signals to try and make the study session a hell of a lot more interesting. But she never bites. Then I go back to my dorm and load up the Hub for another bate sesh.
Ty and I never had any problem finding some pussy to satiate our cravings before. I mean, I’m one of the hottest guys on campus and I’m gonna be horny as shit seeing all these babes around me. At first Kayla was able to keep up with me but recently she’s been growing distant. She blames it on her work and cheerleading and other shit like that. I don’t regret getting into the relationship all the time, but sometimes I wish I was like Ty. Bro never settles down. All the chicks can’t seem to resist the combination of his crooked grin and dimples. The morning after he hooks up with chicks his blonde hair is always pulled in different directions but he keeps that shit soft and styled. And I can’t tell you the amount of hickey’s I’ve seen on his chest, all those hours of getting absolutely shredded in the gym have paid off for my dude.
Ty and I can barely hear each other over the music of Treasure Island’s DJ, so I’m half-yelling when I speak, “After the shit I’ve been through this semester,” I grab his glass from him finishing off the rest of his drink, “I deserve to get fucking hammered.” You’d think that I’d know that Electrical Engineering would be fucking me in the ass when I registered for the damn course back in first year, but I’d been nineteen back then. Freshly minted with that stupidity that made you think you’re invincible. Now at twenty-two I’ve started to tarnish but I’ve still got two more years of this degree sucking me dry.
“Hey!” Ty groans, punching me in the shoulder but I just laugh, “You dick!” He grabs the glass back from me but it’s emptied out. “The next round is on you, dude.” He’s already found his way back to the bar talking to the female bartender there, his arms leaning forward on the sticky counter. The primary lighting in Treasure Island are coloured strobes but I still manage to make out an eye-roll on the chick’s face. He’s probably trying to fuck but this clearly isn’t the first time he’s tried to make moves on her.
“Bro has absolutely no rizz.” I laugh to myself and gasp as the club suddenly goes dark. A pair of soft hands have folded across my eyes and the body it belongs to is pressed flat up against my broad back. Soft mounds squish against the cotton-clad muscle of my form running in firm lines. My body has always been toned, probably got to thank Pops for the genetics there. But it wasn’t until middle school where I really started taking this shit serious. I joined a gym, started out with the baby weights and pushed my body as hard as I could. I went absolute beast mode, joining sports in high school and absolutely dominating. And the results have the ladies a squirting mess. The dudes check me out too with jealousy and some other zesty shit that I don’t have time for. I press myself back against the pair of tits enjoying this moment of proximity and knowing that soon, hopefully, I’ll be sucking on the nipples poking against my skin.
“Guess who?” A voice sing-songs as I reach up to pull Kayla’s hands away from my eyes. I spin around and sweep her up in my arms. She’s light cause she needs to be, cheerleading and shit like that. Her skirt flutters but she doesn’t move to pull it down, letting her white panties flash just as the lights blink red making them look pink against her pale skin. “Babe, you’re supposed to guess~” She pouts, her lips a deep red that I can’t resist. I lean in and press my lips to hers, she moans and licks at my mouth but swats my hands away when I try to reach for her boobs.
“Y’all are gonna catch an STD fucking in here.” Ty says as he nudges me in the side. I can tell that he’s smiling before I look at him. I pull away from Kayla with a groan, accepting the glass that Ty brought for me.
“What? I don’t get a drink?” Kayla asks, her hand on her hip.
“Shoot, soz babe, I didn’t know you were here.” I apologize, my lips sweetened with beer as I lean in to kiss her again but she’s pushing me away now.
“I wasn’t. I just came with some friends but It’s cool. I’ll just fend for myself.” She’s walking to the bar when I grab her by the wrist and place my glass in her hands. I give her an apologetic look, softening my sharp features to convey my remorse. Chicks dig when you’re submissive for some reason. She seems to study me for a second, how my ink black hair is already wilder than I’d expected, curtaining my left eye. The right one, a drop of the ocean deep, searches her features for a sign that she’s buying this shit. Kayla runs a manicured finger across the straight line of my jaw and I feel my stubble brush under her touch. “You’re forgiven.” She says after a pause. I smirk and give her a kiss on the cheek. It gets her every time.***
I walk over to the bar now, resting my hands on the counter. Treasure Island is a popular off-campus club. Most students come here to get out of the city and into the stuffy corners here. You’re sweaty and uncomfortable but the music hits and the drinks hit harder. I look behind the counter at the array of bottles with varying volumes of liquids of varying colours but don’t notice a bartender. I click my tongue and spin on my heel, leaning my back against the marble top, my arms folded as I stare at the dancefloor. Kayla has disappeared somewhere in the throng, the DJ is playing a remix of some song I heard on TikTok, bodies are grinding against each other it looks like a fucking orgy with clothes on. And then I see Ty chatting to some girl. Wait...
That’s not a girl.
At first the outfit threw me for a loop but I should have known. It’s that fucking fag, Brandon, dressed like some fairy. I catch glimpses of him, bodies moving past in dance and blocking him like clouds. A skirt, short and leather. He’s wearing garter belts, I only know what they are cause Kayla made me get her a pair once. They’re heart-buckled and black, pulled taut around the circumference of toned thighs. I clench my fist as I catch another glimpse of him. He’s shifting on chelsea boots, drawing up his long legs like ink, carried on by the ebony lace of thigh-high stockings. I think I’m staring too intently, too heatedly, because Brandon catches me looking at him all this way across the club. That’s when the strobes stroke against his skin, glittering off his eyeshadow that makes his eyes seem like pools of gold. Eyeliner is drawn sharp and precise and his lips are that naturally annoying shade of pink that I want to punch off those plump cushions. Brandon crosses his arms over his chest as he continues talking to Ty… Ty. Why the hell is he talking to that?
Brandon’s body is on display, as usual, like some fucking whore. Who the hell is he parading for? Flaunting his deep olive skin that looks dewy like he’s just been dancing. The dark curls that frame his stupid gay face bounce as he laughs at something Ty said. Now they’re making jokes? I grit my teeth. The idea of a drink the last thing on my mind as I bore holes into Brandon’s side profile. I’ve seen the queer on campus a couple times. He was always strutting as though he owned the place, dolled up as if he belonged here amongst the other real men. He was so confident in his fucking sickness. My eyes are still probing the features of Brandon’s face, slicing across the angle of his jaw when I notice him leaning closer to Ty. He whispers something in Ty’s ear, his hand cupped to cover his lips. When he pulls back he’s smiling and Ty nods slowly before laying his hands on Brandon’s… hips…
“Hell no!” I growl as I stomp over to the two of them, shoving people out of my way in the effort. Over the heads of the throng I spot Kayla at one of the booths on the side of the club with her friends. But I can’t go over there right now, not when Brandon is burying his face in Ty’s neck — no fucking way. I emerge from the crowd and shoot my arm out pulling Brandon’s shoulder to dislodge the leech from Ty. The fairy yelps, shoving my hand back so hard it hits my chest. The twink is strong. Now that I’m up close I can see that Brandon has more muscle than I’ve given him credit for. Chicks usually fill out their clothes with tits and hips but Brandon pours his muscle into the softness. It’s fucking wrong. It’s fucking wrong how his defined abs flex beneath the hem of his black crop top. It’s fucking wrong how the cut-out in the center of his crop top shows that he hasn’t missed chest day at the gym. Firm mounds plump up the chest area and hard nipples puncture the fabric. Is that a nipple piercing?
The fag crosses his arms over his chest again and, yeah, that’s definitely is a nipple piercing. Even in those leather boots he still has to tilt his head back slightly to glare up at me. The gaze has this edge to it, sharpened by the dark eyeliner. “Do you have a fucking problem?” He asks, narrowing his lustrous eyes at me, his lips deepened in a frown. Fuck, he pisses me the fuck off.
“Yeah, I have a fucking problem.” I say, turning to face him head-on. I puff out my own chest, deepening my voice to scare this princess off. “ You’re taking advantage of my drunk friend.”
“Whoa, whoa, Tris! That’s not what’s going on here, dude.” Brandon says, stepping in front of me and putting his hand on my shoulder. I jerk myself away from his touch, my gaze still searing into Brandon as though I can immolate him through sight alone. “Just fucking chill, dude.”
“Chill?” I exhale, a sound of disbelief fluttering up from my core, “You were letting this fag touch you.” I spit, pointing a trembling finger at Brandon who seems unfazed by my outburst. Actually he seems amused. Then he starts giggling. “What’s so fucking funny?”
“Nothing,” he says, tilting his head, “it’s just cool seeing you act like his boyfriend. Cute actually.” He bites his lower lip, the softness resetting into another one of his casual smirks. I’m shaking with rage, I want to wrap my hand around his sparkly throat and squeeze. I want to fucking discipline him. Show him what a real man looks like.
“You little bitch!” I snarl and take a step forward, my fists clenched at my sides. But Brandon doesn’t back down. Instead he takes a step forward as well. Two steps and then a last one until we’re chest-to-chest. It’s not until he’s this close to me that I notice how badly I’m trembling. My blood is flowing like molten lava, the veins in my arms a dangerous blue.
“Don’t tell me that I slept with your boyfriend?” He taunts and his eyes are alight with a challenge. He wants me to react, wants me to fight. He’s so close I can feel his breath on my skin, his body heat mingling with mine and I can smell his perfume… the same one that I smelt rubbed all over Ty earlier. “He loved it. He loved it so much, actually, that we were just about to go again.”
“Tris, listen to me.”
“Is this fucking true?” I nearly snap my neck to look at Ty. He’s staring at me with resignation in his eyes, trying to look for a way to make this sound less damning than it is – but he can’t. I can’t believe it, Ty. Ty, the prince pussy-slayer to my reign. The guy who had booty calls ready for his morning wood. Here. Here, covered in glitter and perfume. Pupils black holed with desire as he stared over at Brandon. I notice that Ty’s lips are wet and I don’t know if it’s from the beer or from making out with Brandon. I lick my own instinctively, noticing how dry it’s gone. How dry my throat is. There’s a nausea turning in my gut like a gut and a sparking like a lighter in the fullness below my belt. The latter is a place I’m trying to ignore right now.
“It’s not a big deal, okay? Tris, Tris, don’t give me that fucking look. Hey, listen to me.” My jaw clicks, I can’t bear to look at him. Instead I’m staring at the spot right next to his head, watching some random fags make out against the wall. There’s that sparking again. I want to punch myself in the fucking balls. “He’s always fucking horny, okay? No, like seriously, he is — and dude, dude, he knows how to do a lot of good fucking shit.” He’s patting my chest incessantly now, his other hand on my back, like he’s trying to sell me on getting pizza for breakfast.
“Should I just… go?” Brandon takes a step back as he asks the question and Ty’s eyes go wide at the idea.
“No. Brandon, wait. Tris, remember that week when we were, we were training for hockey tournaments? Coach was on my fucking ass for getting the drills correct otherwise I wouldn’t be playing against Chesterton? That was the same week with all those fucking assignments.” I did remember. I remembered Ty being absolutely stressed and resorting to unhealthy patterns to cope. He’d binge eat takeout but then workout for five hours at the gym and then come back to the dorm room to sleep until one pm. After a while though it just stopped, like the quiet that follows after a tornado passes. “Well I came here one night and I saw Brandon… and he helped me with the stress.”
I can’t listen to him speak anymore. I can’t believe he’s saying this, I can’t believe he… “Dude, dude, there’s a whole fucking campus. All the pussy you can get —”
“But they can’t make me cum three fucking times in a row!” He cuts me off and I blink, swallowing hard. My heavy balls tingle like they’ve been teased by featherlight fingers. Ty doesn’t stop there, “None of them can make me feel this good. Tris, he’s, shit dude,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair and Brandon looks like he’s biting back a laugh, “You know Slow Stroke Stacey?” I nod. She was another member of the cheerleading squad. A slut for cock who was objectively one of the better cocksuckers on the team. Even if she couldn’t always handle her dick and gagged to the point of retching.
“Dude, this, this right here?” Ty points at Brandon who’s eyeing me all innocently, like a doe. As though I won’t push him up against the wall and pin him there like a stag’s head. Ty is still talking, “This shit is one hundred times better. You know that we’ve been through most of the girls here on campus. And, fuck, they’re aight. But Brandon?” Ty offers a low whistle, his cheeks flushing red and I hope it’s from the fucking alcohol. There’s spit on his lower lip and he swipes his tongue across before continuing. “Shit hits different, dude. And Brandon knows what the fuck is up. He takes every. Fucking. Thing. You give him.”
Reluctantly I turn my head to look over at this cocksucker that god has sent to bless all men. Brandon looks as though he has better things to do —
Brandon's POV
And I do. I just accepted a friendly invitation from my friends to go out and send off this semester by getting wasted. I never imagined I would be on the dancefloor of Treasure Island, the concept of me being sold to some frat bro with protein powder for blood as though I were the latest Tesla model. Ty’s lucky he’s cute but he isn’t anything I couldn’t find with a quick search on the Grindr homepage. I’ve validated the dick, though. Good stuff. And it’s fun pissing off Tristan, too. I notice how he scowls at me on campus like I have some contagious disease that I’m going to spring on him in a sudden ambush. He would be so damn lucky. But sometimes it’s fun knowing that you can make people lose their minds just by being yourself.
The two of them do look cute together. Ty’s so expressive in the bedroom and even now while he’s pleading my case. His blonde hair flops with each movement, showing how strongly he believes in this, his green eyes passionate and convinced. His features are the highlights to Tristan’s dark head of hair, sleek and moody like the brooding no-fun he is. The conversation is boring so I occupy my mind with fantasies. I tilt my head to the right, my forefinger and thumb closing on the bar of my nipple piercing and toying with it as I imagine. Hmm, do you think the two of them explored each other’s bodies? Shit, I fucking hope so. They probably got bored one day and decided to measure each other’s dicks to settle a bet or something. Probably to see who was packing more heat. I see it now. Them sitting on opposite ends of a sofa, a tv playing porn in the middle of them, stroking their cocks to get it hard. They’re sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes, blood gushing to their cocks at the sight of their bro fucking his hand. Then they stand, holding up their shirts, abs flexing as they press their hard cocks against each other to measure the length. Yep, totally explored each other’s bodies.
Tristan’s features are hardened like a greek statue, his body is still except for his heaving chest. I can’t read him. Can’t tell if Ty is making leeway with him or not. If I cared enough I might have chimed in. It’s fun making the guys who look like they signed up for Andrew Tate’s How-To-Be-An-Alpha course lose their entire identity as they cum over and over and over again from the touch of another guy. It’s powerful leaving them questioning so much they wake up hard in the middle of the night and the porn doesn’t work unless they’re looking at the guy and they imagine it’s my hand touching their pathetic cock. Craving something only another man can give them. Really, it’s an act of activism.
My nipples are hard and they’re reminding me of that night when I’d first met Ty at Treasure Island. It had gone how it normally goes with the close-minded-but-curious-jock types.
I was sitting at the bar talking to Candice, the bartender, when a shadow blotted out the overhead dangling lamps. I looked up to my left to see a blonde haired man with a nervous smile on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him but before I could speak he raised his hand to point at me. Not in a rude way but just in an identifying way, so that I knew the question was directed to me.
“So…” Ty had started, giving me finger guns. Both of my eyebrows raised. I was really proud of the makeup look I’d done and he seemed to be taking it in, digesting it in pieces. Like someone with lactose intolerance eating a block of cheese. From the stars of white eye pencil in the inner corners of my eyes to the swipe of liquid eyeliner along the hood of my eye. I was playing with space. I never thought my hands were steady enough to try a negative space look but the blue streak was even. My outfits are constructed around the centerpiece of my makeup looks. So I complemented the blue with a white ribbed tank top and a denim mini skirt. “Are you a guy… or a chick?” There it is.
I almost snorted, I nearly laughed but I was feeling kind. Candice didn’t give a shit, chuckling to herself as she poured some rum into a glass. I stared deadpan at the guy, “Do you want me to pull down my skirt and show you?” I asked completely seriously. Not that your genitals defined your gender, but I didn't think he was ready to comprehend that information. Ty's eyes shot wide as he decoded what I’d said slowly, like unwrapping a gift you weren’t sure you were going to like.
“What? No! Shit! Don’t say that!” He sputtered, the freckles across his cheeks somehow more prominent with the flush of his face. The tips of his ears were red-capped too, cute. He’d asked me a stupid question though. I wasn’t about to validate his ‘curiosity’ with an actual response. Maybe I should have though. Just because I wear clothing I find in the women’s section at the mall doesn’t make me a woman. Just because I decide to use the skin that I own as a canvas for different shades of colours does not make me a woman. I’ve always held the view that the state of men’s fashion is indicative of the gender, really: boring. Repetitive. Bland. In the words of Marie Kondo, it didn’t spark joy to slip into some jeans or corduroy pants and a t-shirt. Every. Day. Of. My. Life. I find what I like and I wear it. Me wearing eyeshadow is not going to expedite the melting of the ice caps.
Instead of getting the hint, the large man sat next to me. I sighed, facing forward as I ordered another drink. I needed something strong if I was going to make it through another berating from one of these idiots who couldn’t understand that there’s no physical way for them to taste the cock that lingers on my tongue. I stirred my drink, picking up the cherry by the stem and plopping it between my lips. I felt his eyes on the side of my face like a sun ray. I stared at him out of my periphery, he was staring at my chest. The piercings were more pronounced against the white of my top. “Are you just going to stare at me?”
He blushed again but tried to hide the fact by furrowing his brows and clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, um. It’s just,” I raised my eyebrows at him as I took a sip of my drink. A bead of vodka cranberry slithered down the side of my mouth and he traced it like a cat following a laser pointer. “You’re muscular.” I set my glass down and smiled at Candice who was already refilling my cup. I didn’t understand the statement. How was I meant to respond to that empirical claim? He’d stated it as though he couldn’t believe he’d said it himself. As though two things couldn’t be true at once.
Why could I not exist in multitudes? Was it impossible for me to be the guy who could bench 100, run 10 miles before six in the morning and then come back to shower and paint my nails. Was it impossible for me to know how to put a spare on a car and also know how to draw the sleekest cat eye? I was here, though. Living the impossibility. And he stared at the lean muscle that I inhabited. Legs crossed, thigh muscles flexed and calves wrapped in blue ribbons criss-crossing. The tone of my arms revealed themselves as I grabbed the refill of my drink.
“Thanks?” I offered. Candice was staring at me with a look of pity but I bit my lip as I raised the glass to my lips. The ray of sunlight still poured down on me and the heat was getting uncomfortable now. He wanted a conversation but he was too afraid to start it on his own. “Do you want to ask something else?” I asked, blinking slowly.
He cleared his throat, pursing his lips and I saw the slight depression on the corners of his mouth. Dimples. Shit, he is hot. Get it together. “Can I feel your muscles,” He’d asked, clearing his throat again even louder this time. Like he wanted to grate away the fact that he’d just said that out loud. “bro?” He added as an addendum.
I stared at his hands resting on his lap and back up to his face. It was a visage of determination but I couldn’t tell what he wanted to accomplish. I nodded my head, spinning on the chair so that I was facing him now. I flexed my arm, the hidden bulk of my bicep bulging at the action. My face was still neutral as I nodded, “Go ahead.”
Ty wasted no time in feeling me up. His hands were veiny, I remembered, corded lines of blue raising from under his tanned skin. I always had a thing for veiny men. His hands were warm and clammy, pressing against the firmness of the muscle. He pulled back, his eyes dropping to my thighs and then, in a flash, so too did his hands. He felt up the flesh, pressing his fingertips into the thickness that lay underneath the shortness of my skirt. I pushed his hands off, my balls already tingling. I may be an ass but a man’s hands on me are going to get me horny. I felt the pressure build in my balls causing my skirt to feel a bit too tight, “At least ask me out before doing all that.” I’d said.
“Sorry. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Ty ran a hand through his hair and I remembered how it shone like strands of gold. “I… fuck.” He pressed a hand to his own crotch, his cupped hand elevated over a bulge in his jeans. I pouted. A newfound interest sparking in me. So the straight boy is curious, huh? “I don’t know what’s going on with me.” He said in a voice that belied a true individual underneath the bulk of armor he’d put between himself and the world.
Ty had looked over at me with eyes that showed he was at odds with himself. An exploit in the shield that he’d worn all this time. I’d seen him and Tristan on campus a couple times always living the dream life of a straight, white man. But here he was, at the bar, eyes shimmering with a darkness that he was afraid to give in to. His eyes were buoyed by dark bags and his brows were worried. He shuddered when I first laid my hand on his shoulder but he leaned in to my touch. He uncovered his bulge, now a full on tent pressing against the zipper of his jeans and a plea fell from his lips.
His new life started on the sidewalk outside of Treasure Island. His body was shaking as he laid his hands on my hips, “You can squeeze harder.” I said, grabbing his hands and guiding them down the denim of my skirt to my behind. His fingers dug into my asscheeks and his lips parted as I cupped his face. His cock was pressing against mine once I’d stepped forward, squandering the space between us and filling it with our breaths. “Do you want me to stop?” I asked him. The blonde of his hair fell across his forehead as he shook his head.
“Ah ah,” I reprimanded him as I leaned forward, “Speak up.” I hovered my lips over his skin like a satellite, his cock grinding against mine seeking a friction he’d never known before. A hardness upon hardness causing each other to buckle at the knees and cling to each other for support. My lips were a butterfly gliding over a flower. Barely grazing him with a tantalizing lightness that would inevitably land and suckle on the sweetness of him.
“Please…” he whimpered, his nose in my hair as he leaned himself forward. Our heaving chests pressed fast, our erections seeking freedom from their confines, his hands slipping underneath my skirt afraid of truly committing but needing more. “Please touch me. Please.” He’d begged. And who was I to deny him?
I hear my name and suddenly I’m back in Treasure Island. Both Tristan and Ty are looking at me with waiting eyes and I realise that I’ve just completely zoned out. Unaware of the tryst happening on the dancefloor, people are still dancing around us as we stand in the centre of it all. “Huh?”
“Can you…” Ty’s too nervous to ask for what he wants. For all his reputation as a ‘vagina-vigilante’, he’s still pretty shy when it comes to touching me or putting his cock inside me. It’s endearing really. Who doesn’t like a submissive man?
“Can I, what?” I ask. I love playing this game with him. Getting him to voice his desires. Getting him to commit to asking me to make him feel good. My eyes are alight as I tilt my head back to connect with his, “Use your words, baby.” I hum, resting a hand on his sweaty chest, smooth and hard.
I feel the rise of his body as he swallows hard. His heartbeat is racing and his skin just raised by five degrees, “Can you…” He looks over at Tristan who is regarding Ty with a disbelieving expression. When Tristan eyes me it’s with disdain and uncomfortable fascination. He has that same look in his eyes as Ty did back when I first met him. Glazed and warring, pushing and pulling. “Can you give Tris a blowjob?” I pout but really I want to laugh because he’s had to yell his question over the loud music. Tristan pushes his hair back revealing his sharp features that are red with anger. This is going to be impossible. Luckily I specialize in that.
Ty’s hopeful expression grows worried when I shake my head, “I don’t know. He looks pretty mad at me.” My forefinger and thumb hold Ty’s chin and I turn his head to look at Tristan. The dark haired man is staring at his blonde counterpart with a shattered resolve and a jaw that he’s clicking in place. “Let’s see if he can handle this first.” I turn his face back to mine. His eyes narrow in on my tongue as I drag the pink of it across his lips. The leather of my skirt crinkles around the imprint of his hands on my ass. We’re pressed close and both of us watch my tongue as I unzip the seam of his mouth with the fleshy muscle. His own, stained red and blue from his drinks, emerges from the cavern of his hot mouth. My tongue swirls around his, circling each other with nothing to hold on to. DNA mixes, a slickness is created with our tongues as we bridge this space between our lips with our dripping language.
A slow falling string of spit like spider silk lands on Ty’s smooth chest. I lap at his tongue like a hound before enclosing my lips around him. Our tongues slide past each other as we pump them into the slickness of the other. My arms are draped over his shoulders and my fingers are tangling in the hair at the back of his head. He wants me to feel his desire because he pulls me flush against him and I feel the familiar length of him pressed up against my own. We’re so close to frotting on the dance floor as I grind my cock against his, my cock hardening in the pocket of my jockstrap. I let a hand glide over the strength of his shoulder down to the pecs that I’ve been eyeing all night. He wore this for me. He wanted me to see him, to touch him like this. This straight boy wanted my approval. And I’ll give it to him.
My hand cups the hardness of his pec, pushing it up and then letting my fingers brush over his hard nipple. I rub the slickness of my saliva that's dripped onto him on the pink flesh. He shudders against me and I feel his cock pulse in his jeans. My eyes are open all the while and trained upon Tristan who is beholding us like the opening to some porno. I don’t mind being watched, fuck, if anything it turns me on even more. Tristan steps closer to get a better look at me tonguefucking his best friend. Soon the front of my skirt is pulling up and tenting around the crown of my cock. Ty notices because his hand is in front of me, slipping up my thighs to find my hardness. I pull on his hair and he gasps, the kiss broken but I don’t stop. Ty is whimpering and I’m growling as I kiss his jaw then the softness underside his chin. He’s moaning so much when I daisy-chain down his neck. Rosy blotches suckled across the expanse of his salty skin as I kiss down his open shirt. My fingers are teasing and rolling his pebbled nipple and he’s reaching into my jockstrap. Ty’s eyes are on Tristan too now that they’re open. A dimpled smile is on Ty’s lips which part to release a moan as I breathe hot air onto his nipple. I flick my tongue out like a whip across the pink nub and suckle just as he rubs the pubes above my cock.
I pull back. Reaching down to pull on the hem of my skirt and to shift my jock so that my hard dick isn’t out for the world to see. Ty’s eyebrows are furrowed and the corners of his eyes are tilted low as he stares at me with want. I feel bad but I don’t show it. This was all a demonstration. I look over at Tristan while I fix my garter belt, “So.” I say, standing upright. “Still want a blowjob?”
Tristan's POV
— That is a stupid fucking question. It should be a stupid fucking question to which I immediately say ‘no’ and then leave to find Kayla. Fuck. My chest is tight, my palm is wet after I reach it up to wipe at my temple. It’s so fucking stuffy in here and everything is so loud and Ty and Brandon… They made out. This shit is fucking real. It’s real and it was… I grit my teeth. NO. I click my jaw out and then back into place. Deep breaths seem to make me pant as I look over at the two of them.
Brandon’s skirt is tight in the front, the fabric ruffled like a wrapper around the apex of his cockhead. His face is still made up to look like the fucking queer that he is and it’s topped off with tilt of satisfaction. And Ty… Bro looks like he’s absolutely gooning out of his fucking mind. The corners of his lips are slick and it travels down to his chin in streaks. His eyes are half-lidded and he has this dumb-ass smirk on his kiss-slick lips. I should be turning away. I should be calling them both fags and leaving Brandon to fuck Ty or for Ty to fuck Brandon or whatever they do! But I’m stuck. I shift on my legs and the third leg brushes against the fabric of my boxers — hard. I’ve gotten hard from watching Brandon and Ty make out. Brandon notices first and Ty only notices when I move to cover my cock. I look back at the two fags at the other end of the club. The one has the other pinned against the wall, his legs wrapped around the guy who’s pumping his fingers into his…
Ty rests a hand on mine and I jump back. He doesn’t flinch but just stares at me knowingly, “Just, let him help you, bro.” He says and I recognise him but he seems so different now. Has he always been this way? He said it was before we played against Chesterton… Had I been so blind all this time? Brandon is taking a step forward now. Gently, he pries my hand away from my crotch. Like opening an oyster to find the pearl.
His voice is low when he speaks and he’s so close the hairs on my arm stand to attention, “Just tell me if you want to stop, okay?” I nearly keel over when his hand closes around my hardon. I bite down on the inside of my cheek and pinch shut my eyes. Shit, shit, shit. This is really fucking happening. He’s… fuck, he’s palming it through my jeans. My exhale is rounded through my pursed lips as he focuses on teasing the head of my cock. Just… imagine that it’s Kayla, I try and reason with myself. But his scent, the notes of almond and honey are so potent that I can’t conjure the image of her face. All I feel is the wet head of my cock coating itself in precum. Lubing itself up to fuck something. Pussy, I remind myself. I’m fucking straight. I’m… straight.
With his free hand he angles my head to face his, the other squeezing the shaft of me. “Just…” He grazes his lips over mine and I feel it. I feel the heat in my chest like a furnace. The bubbling of conflict brewing within me. “Just, go with it.” Then he erases the space between us. My hands find his hips to steady my stance. I don’t kiss back at first, still trying to find Kayla in the Rorschach test of the darkness behind my eyes. But I just see Brandon and Ty making out. Brandon worshipping Ty’s tongue and Ty moaning like this was the best thing ever. And, fuck. It's not that horrible.
I gasp as I feel the hand that was on my cock slither underneath my shirt, “Fuck…” I groan and Brandon seizes the parting of my lips. He wedges his tongue into my mouth and I’m tasting him and I’m tasting Ty all at once. His hand is tracing the deep valleys of my abs as he pulls back a breath, “Kiss me. Just, try.” I nod. His eyes are bronze-gold, gilded things that are searching me for my submission. They close to lids of dark shadows as he leans in again and I kiss him back this time. Fuck… Usually when I’m kissing Kayla, I find her boobs. Grab onto them and squeeze. But here I find Brandon’s ass. The leather of his skirt is hot where Ty held onto his cheeks. His ass itself is full, round and muscled. I readjust my fingers and feel how soft it is. Fuck I’m getting harder. In place of boobs, what’s pressed up against me are his pecs. Not as pronounced as mine but they’re there – firm with fucking pierced nipples. I never imagined it was possible but, somehow, we fit perfectly. I’d always wondered how the fuck gay dudes could smash other dudes but Brandon’s body lathered against mine has me tracing the lines of his hard body. He’s firm and his body presses back against mine and we meet each other in the middle where it feels electric and it should feel wrong but fuck. I want more.
I feel the steel bar piercing brush against my own nub as he tilts to the side, shifting slightly and the stimulation is a jolt that thunderbolts to my cock. I’m so fucking hard. It’s probably just because I’m so horny… But shit… he’s so good. He’s peppering kisses onto my lips, swiping his tongue across and I stick my own out. He smiles with his eyes and licks at my tongue. Slickness gliding across slick. “You like that?” He asks me but I don’t respond, at least not verbally. He’s found my nipples, teasing and paying so much attention to them it’s hard to think I never touched them before. My abs flex as I work as I exert myself to silence my moans. “You’re hot when you shut up.” Brandon whispers just as he squeezes my cock again. This fucking bitch.
The realization is the sticky precum collecting in my boxers as I find my hips delivering shallow thrusts against Brandon’s crotch. I’m kissing another guy. I’m kissing another guy and he’s touching me. I don’t want it to stop. “You always this boring when you makeout?” He teases. Whenever I makeout with Kayla it’s never rough and always on her terms but now? Now I have something to prove to Brandon. I find the back of his head and fist my fingers in his hair, my other hand pressing him impossibly closer til our cocks are sandwiched between our hard bodies. Trapped in a delicious vacuum of friction. “Fuck! That’s it, straight boy.” I shut him up with my mouth. His breath becomes my own as I claim his lips. Our heads lean to opposite sides as we deepen the kiss, the wet, sloppy communication of our mouths sounding throughout our immediate vicinity.
His thigh presses against my hip when he raises his leg and I grab onto it, holding him there so I can better fuck our cocks together. “You like that you fucking, fag?” I growl, “This is what you wanted, huh?” Ty is sidled up next to Brandon and he’s kissing the faggot’s sparkly neck. Brandon cups Ty’s head as he reaches behind him, leaning in to kiss him and I take my chance attacking Brandon’s neck. I suck on the flesh over his collarbone before I sink my teeth into the hollow of his neck. He winces but I feel his cock throb against my own. Fuck… fuck… it feels so fucking good. Ty is hard too, his jeans clinging to his boner as we teeter on the edge of fucking in front of everyone.
Brandon is still leaned back, fingers entangled in the softness of Ty’s hair, lips locked with Ty’s in a feverish dance. He rests a finger underneath Ty’s chin drawing him nearer to us as though he’s been conducted under a spell. I want nothing more than to rip off Brandon’s crop top as I kiss my way down his chest. My open-mouthed kisses are broken with a satisfying pop each time I pull back from sucking on his skin. I feel Brandon guide my face back up for another kiss and I close my eyes as I find his lips. He tastes even sweeter. Like he’s coated in beer and what Ty smells like. I imagine he has stubble all of a sudden when I cup his face. I feel Brandon place his leg down but it doesn’t matter because his lips are still on mine. I lick open his mouth and uncover the treasure within. My hands seek purchase on his hips but I don’t find the warmed leather. Instead I find denim. My eyes flutter open to gold swooped across a handsome face — Ty’s lips pressed to mine. I blink, pushing him back before I glare at Brandon who’s smirking at the both of us. “What the fuck!” I yell at him, panting so my frustration comes out as a wheeze. Weak and unconvincing.
He lets out a sharp exhale, cording his arms over his chest again, “Really? That’s where you draw the line?” He asks incredulously. “Your tongue was down my throat but a little kiss between bros is going too far?” I’m shaking so hard I see two Brandon’s stood before me for a second. I want to find support from Ty but his eyes are glazed over and his lips are curved upward into a smirk. My eyes trail down the lines of his muscled body to the bulge that’s prominent in his pants. He looks like pure sex. An adonis with muscles bulging, sweat pooling on his skin and a cock made for fucking. I feel my own body flush hot. Fuck, what the fuck is happening to me? I clench my fists at my sides to try and draw the blood away from my boner. It’s an absolute fucking miracle that no one has noticed the two men and a fag with a boner on the Treasure Island dance floor. Ty cups Brandon’s face, turning his lean form toward his broader frame. He pulls him in by the hips and crashes his lips onto Brandon’s. It’s a hungry battle of lips where tongues peek out like the arms of swimmers in the water. They pull apart like snarling dogs, a string of saliva bridging across the two of them. Ty jerks his head toward a general direction and Brandon nods. This unspoken conversation between the two of them seems to rope me in as they look over at me.
I don’t know why I follow them to the bathroom of Treasure Island but something about it feels like stepping foot into hell. The walls are drenched in the pooling red of the overhead light. A narrow window against the farthest wall lets in the slimmest slice of moonlight that splays itself across the floor like a rug. There are three full length mirrors underneath the window and the light seems to bend in on itself, filling in even the darkest crevice. Every nook that exists here is touched by the light. And that’s how I fear I’ll be once I leave this room, too. Brandon’s an angel in the center of the room, shadows cast diagonally across his mouth as Ty steps forward to meet him. I’m not as confident in my stride. The signals my brain needs to send to my body to move seem delayed.
Brandon’s hand cups Ty’s cheek and he leans into it as though he’s being blessed by a saint. “Tell me what you want,” he purrs and I nearly speak but it’s not my turn. His other hand is undoing Ty’s jeans, slowly, agonizingly slow. I can see the muscles in Ty’s back flex as he slips the shirt off his shoulders. In the mirror I can see that handsome face of his, statuesque, eyes closed and lips parted as though he needed to experience everything solely through touch.
“You.” He answers and my stomach lurches. I’m looming behind him like a voyeur. Brandon finds my eyes and I can tell he’s smiling even with his mouth blotted out by Ty’s large shoulder. “I need you… please.” That’s Ty’s voice. The man who practiced drills with me on the ice, the man who always orders another round of shots for the table, the guy who had insomnia if he didn’t get his dick sucked. Ty is begging to be touched by another man. And fuck, fuck, I’m grabbing my cock through my jeans before relenting to whipping it out. Ty’s eyes open a slit, like the window overflowing with light, and he finds mine in the mirror. It draws a stroke that I can feel down my chest, over my abs and to my hard throbbing cock.
Ty's POV
—Tristan is hard as shit. I see him behind me, shrouded in the red, a foot away from stepping into the light. And shit, it feels fucking amazing having him here watching. I watch Brandon lower his pretty self onto his knees popping the button of my jeans at the same time. Relief is so close I can feel it as he drags down my jeans to my ankles. His hands are on the outer of my muscular thighs rubbing firm circles that tingle up and down my core and collect like pure pleasure in my balls. “Good boy,” He whispers as he presses his mouth against my boxers, against the hardest part of me right now.
“Oh, nngh, oh fuck…” My hand grips his hair so I don’t fucking bow over him. He’s such a fucking tease taking his time like this. Every girl that has ever sucked my cock has treated it as a chore. Something you do to get it over with. When I came it was followed by a sharp let down right after. But not with Brandon. Dude treats it like a meditation. Like a prayer. He worships me, but fuck I worship him because of how heavenly he feels. “Fuck!” I hiss, opening my mouth to let out a deep exhale as he laves his tongue across the horizontal lay of my cock in these black briefs.
“Moan for me. Yeah,” I do. I would have even if he hadn’t asked me to. It just feels so fucking good having someone make love to your dick. Having someone show you that nothing matters more to them than your unending pleasure. He kisses deeply against the cotton of my briefs as his fingers play with the waistband of my briefs. “You’re so hard for a straight boy.” He teases me. This is the part I love the most. The part that makes me feel like I’m being discovered for my desires. The taboo of it all, the fact that only another man knows my body this well.
I nod my head and groan once he pulls my cock out. It slaps against his cheek but he rolls with it, wrapping those magic fingers around the veiny shaft and slapping it against the soft skin of his cheek a couple times. I see Tristan walk around us so that he isn’t observing our reflections but us as we are now. Me with my hand bunched in Brandon’s hair and Brandon with my cock in the palm of his hand, jerking it off. My hood closes around the red head of my cock and each time he pulls it back I’m glittering even more with precum. The pressure of his hand around my cock is firm, pressing down onto the bulging veins, those thin red and blue cords that snake under the pale skin.
“We’re gonna show your friend how much better than the girls I am, yeah?” He asks but really it isn’t even a fucking question. I look over at Tristan who’s stroking himself. His face is lined with concentration and his hips are bucking ever so slightly into his palm. The sex god, Tristan. My best friend, Tris. The guy I’ve wanted to touch for so long now. I feel the heat of Brandon’s mouth surround my cock like a heatwave before it’s concentrated as he seals his lips around the head of my meat. Somehow it feels as good as the first time when he sucked me off in my car outside Treasure Island. But fuck, it’s better. It’s better because he knows me better each time.
His tongue circles underneath my hood, swirling a languid circle underneath the extra skin. I bare my canines as he lets his tongue pillow my cock. He draws a stripe up the underside of me and I feel him tease the frenulum with little circles of his tongue. He’s looking up at me and he’s glowing with the air of a smile. Fuck, the bitch has me. He had me back then and now he has me here, rolling his head back and onto my cock as he hollows out his cheeks so there’s just soft flesh around my firm organ. I can’t help but buck into his mouth but not disrupting the flow of him, not breaking the rhythm that he’s setting. Tristan is taking another step closer, the light now illuminating the head of his darker coloured cock. I feel my cock pulse as I see him, swallowing down my lust for him in this moment.
“Oh my fuck!” I growl as Brandon buries his nose amidst my pubes. He’s opened his throat, taking me down the back of his tongue and holds me there in the warmth of him. My toes curl in my shoes, my hips thrust deep and long strokes but Brandon doesn’t gag. Shit, the fucker never gags. He reaches underneath his skirt and begins to stroke himself as he creates an obscene arrangement of music with his throat and my cock pumping into him. It’s so fucking good. The saliva in his mouth builds up and drips from the corners of those sinful lips. He’s staring up at me, moaning in the intonation of a question and I swear I can almost hear him saying Yeah, you like my throat straight boy? Bet no chick could take your monster this deep, huh? Make you feel this good. And I nod. I nod and I throw my head back as he deepthroats me again. He holds it there, clenching his throat around me. I can feel myself so close, so fucking close…
He’s fully enlightened now. Tristan, next to me, his cock pointed at Brandon’s mouth like a patron awaiting entrance to a church. Brandon smiles fully now after he pulls off of me. The air in the room feels frigid on my cock compared to the heat of Brandon’s mouth. But something about it is electric, static enough to cause the hairs on my arms to rise. He wraps his firm hands around both me and Tristan. I notice the loss of balance Tristan has when Brandon touches his cock for the first time. He growls like a beast on a chain, the line between his forehead growing more pronounced with concentration. I recognise the resistance to the pleasure. I see how he’s dangling one foot over the edge but he’s scared to commit. So I reach my hand out.
Tristan's POV
— I feel Ty’s hand on the small of my back climbing the valley of my spine. His fingers are warm on the skin of my neck and my cock is leaking precum onto Brandon’s fingers. He leans forward to lick at the slit of my cock. “Fuck.” I groan when he pushes the tip of his tongue into the slit just to lap at the salty essence that’s leaking out of me. My left arm is around Ty’s shoulder, his hand is cupping the back of my neck. He turns me to face him just as Brandon opens his mouth around my balls, sucking at them tenderly and unlocking a whole new level of pleasure I never knew about.
“Shit, that feels good.” My shoulder is pressed to Ty’s as I groan into Brandon’s touch. Ty’s hand that is fisted in Brandon’s hair comes to rest on my chest and I stare down at it.
“Learnt this from Brandon.” He murmurs, drawing his hand back to suck at his thumb before rubbing my nipple with the slick digit.
“Fuck!” My eyes are half-lidded as I stare at him. Dimple-cheeked grin and wild eyes staring back at me. He leans in and I meet him in the middle.
The clumsiness of the kiss makes it different from kissing Brandon. Ty doesn’t know how far to push me and when I’m kissing Brandon he’s provoking me. I bite down on Ty’s lower lip when I feel a warmth close around my cock. It’s familiar, I’ve been sucked off before, but this… this is new. There’s an eagerness to the way Brandon is helping himself to my eight inches of pure manhood. His hand is pumping the inches he can’t fit into his mouth — but then he proves me wrong.
“Shit! Oh fuck, take it.” His hot, wet mouth is around my meat. He wiggles his head to take down more of me. Spittle is dripping onto my balls as his nose presses against my pelvis, in the throes of my dark pubes. I keep that bush unshaven and he inhales, drawing in my manly musk as he flexes his throat around me.
“See how good he is?” Ty says. We’ve both turned to watch Brandon now who’s bobbing his head on my dick and stroking Ty’s cock in equal fervour.
“Y-yeah, hgnh.” I stare over at Ty again and he’s eyeing my lips, “He’s fucking, mhm, fucking amazing. Fucking cocksucker.”
Ty’s nodding and I can tell what he’s thinking because he’s drawing me closer until our lips meet again. This time the clumsiness adds to our hunger. My cock is jerking in Brandon’s mouth, the slut stroking himself as he laves his tongue up and down the underside of me. He swirls his muscle around my organ, slurping as he hollows out his cheek so that there’s friction, delicious fucking friction on all sides of my cock. Nothing is left untouched, every part of my cock is wet and slick and sloppy as he quickens his pace. I moan against Ty’s lips who’s licking into my mouth and I let him because, fuck he’s a good kisser. Has to be with the fucking reputation that he has. But now, experiencing it firsthand? I stroke my tongue against his, pulling back to emulate Brandon by sucking on his tongue.
My balls are heavy and so full that they smack against my thighs as Brandon sucks me off. An undeniable pleasure coils like smoke up my core filling me up. I feel it gather in my balls and they tighten. I bite down on Ty’s lower lip again but not as hard and I drag my sweetened tongue across to soothe the softness.
“Why’d you sto– Fuck…” I want to order the fag to continue doing what he’s good at when I feel him pull of my cock. He pays special attention to the frenulum when he swirls his tongue around the head before pulling off with a pop. His hand replaces his hot mouth, shlicking up and down my shaft. “Oh my god, shit. Just like that, yes, yeah. Mhm.” My knees bow as he flicks his wrist on the upstroke to cause a jolt of pleasure to shoot up my core and down my legs. My thigh muscles flex and he kisses them before beginning to blow Ty’s mind with his magic mouth.
“You’re both so fucking big,” Brandon purrs. He’s bunched his skirt around his waist, his jockstrap pulled down as far as it can go and his cock is standing to attention. Hard with a string of glistening arousal snaking down it. “Am I making you feel good?” He asks.
“Ye- oh! Fuck!” I don’t respond because jolts of pleasure like lightning erupt from the head of my cock as he rubs mine and Ty’s cock together, “Fuck, fuck, that feels…” I never fucking knew that rubbing your cock against another dude’s can feel so fucking good. So fucking right. Brandon holds both of our cocks and leans forward to take them both in his mouth.
“That’s it, oh fuck Brandon.” Ty moans and I groan as Brandon takes us both. It’s just the heads of our cocks but the friction along with the heat of his mouth have us holding onto each other to steady ourselves. It’s a wonder that I haven’t fucking blown my load yet with the way his hands are working our cocks, pumping the shafts as he bobs his head. Our cocks are pressed together, grinding along his tongue as he stares up at us with those pretty eyes. Fuck. Fuck, yeah. He’s pretty.
When he pulls off the both of us again I think the moment’s over and he’s about to blueball us because he stands up. “Ready to try something else?” He unzips his skirt as he asks this and pulls his jockstrap the rest of the way down. My cock answers the question. It’s reflecting the moonlight, a hard tool of pure manliness ready to take on whatever Brandon has ready for it. I run a hand through my hair and down the back of my neck noticing how sweaty I am all of a sudden. How fucking turned on I am because of him.
Somehow the twunk keeps managing to surprise me because his cock is beautiful. Not that I’m into measuring dicks or anything, but he’s a solid seven inches, cut and fuck his hand can barely close around the girth as he’s fisting it. He leans back against the basins, sitting on the counter. My eyes cannot break away from his movements as he reveals himself to us. Two hunks of men watching him lay himself back with his legs drawn back to reveal his hole — stretched by a buttplug.
It’s transparent and I can just about make out the deep fleshy pinkness of his insides as he draws it out while stroking his cock. His hole closes to a perfect circle, already slick and needy. When did assholes get so hot? “Are you two just going to stand there?” Ty is the first one to move after Brandon’s question. Getting your cock sucked by a dude is zesty enough but fucking another dude’s ass is straight up gay shit. But that common knowledge doesn’t stop Ty who half-kneels in front of Brandon, spreading his cheeks with his large veiny hands that press into the soft firmness.
“I thought of you while I kept it in.” Brandon whispers and Ty bites his lower lip. He leans in and kisses Brandon’s cheeks with an open mouth, grazing his teeth over it before centering in on his hole. His pink, winking hole.
“I fucking love eating your ass, baby.” Ty draws his tongue over Brandon’s hole and up the valley of his crack as he moans. Brandon shivers and my hand is in my cock. My breathing is heavy because my lips are parted and my free hand is cupping the firm muscle of my buttock as I thrust into my fist. I take a step closer and another, close enough that I can see Ty lapping at Brandon’s hole like he’s just found the only source of water in a desert. One hand isn’t enough anymore so I fist both of my hands around the shaft and fuck into it slowly. My eyes are watching the pink hole of Brandon, his ass quivering, his legs shaking as Ty eats him out. He motorboats Brandon’s ass, slapping his ass cheeks with a lust-induced rage.
“Fuck!” Brandon and I both moan at the same time at the way Ty is fucking manhandling that piece of prime ass. He straightens up and grabs his cock to point it at Brandon’s waiting hole. A keening whimper rises from Brandon’s lips as his hole opens up for Ty’s cock.
“Dude, he’s so fucking tight.” Ty looks up at me. Blonde hair is stuck to his face, plastered there by sweat and exertion. He looks so fucking primal: muscles coiled, sweat rolling down the ripples of his abs, his own ass clenched as he presses forward. Shit, he’s really fucking doing this.
“Yes, yes, Ty.” Brandon’s cock is in Ty’s hand as he moans. He’s staring at me with a desire that drips from his lips and onto the palm of his hand. “C’mere.” He beckons me over and I give him my cock that he clothes with his fingers and lubricates with his saliva. He’s so fucking good at this. Fuck, why is he so good at this?
Ty’s hands are on Brandon’s hips as he sinks his cock forward into Brandon’s hole. “SHIT!” His voice breaks on the expletive and his cock finally shelters itself inside Brandon. Brandon looks aglow, as though he’s drawing energy from this. As though being fucked is his life’s purpose. “You’re so fucking tight, baby!” Ty growls as he plap, plap, plaps himself into Brandon’s heat. His chest is flexed, his abs are pulled tight like he’s Arnold Swazenager competing for Mr Olympia.
The room is filled with their heaving breaths and warm accumulates around us like steam in a sauna. He’s sliding his full length out and then drilling himself all the way to the base so that his pubes are acquainted with the valleys of Brandon’s beautiful ass.
“Yeah? Is it better than pussy? Tell me.” Brandon demands of him between low moans and even silkier whimpers. Ty fucks into him and grinds his pelvis against Brandon’s ass. Enjoying the feeling, rutting into him.
“Fuck, baby. I’m never going back to pussy.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing but then he says it again. Each word punctuated by a thrust of his hips. “Your ass is better than pussy, baby! Fuck, fuck you feel so good milking me!”
I’ve never… I’ve never seen him like this. Shit, I’ve never seen him this raw and unrelenting. He’s evolved into a new man, all man. He grabs Brandon’s thighs and pushes his legs further back and the cockslut takes it all. He takes it when Ty is slamming his hard cock into him like a jackhammer and when he’s slapping his ass until it turns red. He’s a beast. He’s a fucking rock hard man.
“Fuckfuckfuck-” his hips stutter as he leans forward to kiss Brandon. Brandon is still stroking my cock somehow as Ty delivers punches with his cock to a place deep inside of his hole. Does that really feel good? And I can’t tell if I’m referring to the fucking or the being fucked. Ty leans over and bites Brandon’s neck as he growls like a feral beast. It’s so low at first I mistake it for the bass heavy beat of a song from outside but it’s him. Pushing his cock deep into Brandon’s hole before he pulls out, slowly, letting his cum drip from the reddened hole.
He drops to his knees immediately and finds Brandon’s hole with his tongue. Shit… What the fuck just happened. I have no time to think because Brandon’s eyes are on me, his hole winking out an invitation specially for my hard cock. “He got me ready for you. Bros share, don’t they?” He smirks at me and I know that if I do this, there’s no going back. I shudder when I feel Ty’s large hand on my cock stroking my shit.
Ty purses his lips, a long drop of string landing on the shaft which he lathers onto it. My bro… my best friend, jerking off my cock so I can fuck another dude. I always imagined if we had a threesome it would be with some hot chick. Who knows, maybe it would have been Kayla if she was into shit like that. But I’m here. In the men’s bathroom of Treasure Island with my cock aimed at a dude’s asshole.
Ty is leaned over Brandon slightly, his hands cupping and spreading Brandon’s cheeks for me. “Trust me dude. Trust me.” His pupils are as wide as they were back on the dancefloor but even darker. They’re pits of an insatiable lust evident by his cock that’s already hard again. The wet hardness throbs against his thigh as he slides a finger into Brandon’s hole.
“Ah! Nngh… Yeah…” Brandon moans, “Afraid you might like it?” He taunted me. But I knew there was no way in hell that this would be anywhere near to the way a pussy feels around my cock.
My new life started in the red-drenched bathroom of Treasure Island. Ty had already loosened Brandon’s hole pretty well but I hadn’t expected him to take me as easily as he did. I barely stepped forward, my cock pressed against the pit of pleasure that Ty had creampied. And he opened up, allowing me into him and meeting me at the door. The reception was warm. Fuck it was so warm I thought I was cumming over myself. It was so much fucking tighter than a pussy. My hands gripped Brandon’s hips as I kept sinking forward. And he pulled me in. I pushed through the mess that Ty had left, my hands digging harder into Brandon’s hips at the knowledge that he’d been so thoroughly used by my best friend. Brandon’s velvety ridges of flesh and muscle gripped onto me as though it never wanted to let go. As though this was my place.
I gasped as I bottomed out, burying myself to the hilt. “That’s it dude!” Ty’s hand was on my back again as he chuckled. Sweat seemed to roll down me in rivulets and beads as I began to move slowly. It was so different to a pussy where you could slide out when you pulled back. This hole kept me in as I drew back, ridges of velveteen muscle massaging and stimulating my cock as I pushed my hips back and forth. I’m inside him. He smirked up at me with that beautiful face.
“Still think pussy is better?” He’d asked with those sinful lips and I had to prove him wrong. I had to show him that I wouldn’t cum. I wouldn’t give in to the tightness that held my shaft from every spot. I wouldn’t paint the pink insides of him red with my seed. I wouldn’t.
“Fuck yea– FUCK!” He’d clenched his hole on my cock as I spoke and I threw my head back pounding into him. He would accommodate me just-so, his hole making space for my cock and my cock alone as I fucked into him. Every time I would bottom out in him, the base of my cock pressed flush against his ass, he would squeeze down on me. “Fuck! You fucking bi–” I grabbed onto his neck, squeezing as I pounded into him harder. I nearly froze when I felt hands rest on my clenched ass but it was Ty. He pushed me forward, fucking my dick into Brandon’s hole until my cock hit against a fleshy bit inside him.
He held onto my wrist, his goddamned beautiful eyes half-lidded and sparkling with challenge as he dared me to hold out. Dared me to prove him wrong. But fuck… I was already inside him. I was inside him and I was liking it. Fuck, I thought this was impossible. How the hell am I so hard? So horny? I reasoned that it was because of the blowjob that I was already so close to cumming. That because he’d gotten me all hard and wet that my cock was so sensitive and in need of relief but no. No, it’s his fucking hole. His fucking hole that’s milking me for my straight boy seed. His fucking hole that’s converting me with each thrust of my hips. His hole that’s taking me like it knows my dick the best. Better than anyone else. Better than all the girls I’ve fucked before. Better than pussy. Better than. Better.
I fucking whimper like a bitch as I fuck into him. Muscles run like anacondas down my arms as I hold him down but not so much that he can’t breathe. My hips are moving faster now in pursuit of the friction that he has given me. The friction that only he can give me. “Fuck- fuck- shit!” My voice is cracking like I’m going through fucking puberty. Ty has stood up behind me. His cock is pressed between my cheeks as he plasters his torso to my back and drapes his arms over me, his head resting on my shoulder. He turns my head to kiss him as I fuck into Brandon. My eyebrows are furrowed and my face is lined with arousal and confusion, lust and conflict as I fuck into Brandon.
Ty is grinding his hard cock against me and that’s when I realise that the true essence of men can only be brought out by other men. My bro slides his cock between my cheeks and licks at my tongue to calm me down. I’m afraid he’s going to stick his dick in me but he’s just sliding it between my cheeks. And fuck, fuck, fuck I can’t think anymore as Brandon clenches down on the full length of my shaft and Ty’s cock catches on the ridge of my musky, hair-dusted virgin hole—
“FUUUCK!” I pour myself forward onto Brandon and find his lips waiting for me. His cum shoots from his cock, “Fuck! FUCK!” I thrust myself into his pulsing anus. It ripples and milks me harder with each rope of cum he shoots. And he shoots. The first spurt of pearly essence gets me on my jaw as I’m making out with Brandon. Then it gets my abs and his, our chests, the counter and it keeps going as I fuck every last drop out of him, grinding against the spot inside of him that makes him pulse around me and cum like a whore for me. My cum shoots into him and pools back onto my cock as I thrust heaving exhales into him. My hair falls across his face, sweat rains down onto his cheeks and eyelids dragging along with it some of his makeup.
It takes me a minute to gather my breath. Fuck, it’s easier for me to gather my breath after a five hour session at the gym! I kiss him deeply as I ease my cock out of him. The both of us muffle our moans through the kiss, cum dripping onto the counter as I pull out of him. Wet, covered in white cum like the moonlight. Brandon sits up and Ty is already getting in position for Brandon to ride him.
Brandon looks over at me as he straddles Ty’s cock, “Still think pussy is better?” He asks again as he sinks himself down onto Ty’s uncut meat. My man Ty whimpers as Brandon makes his dick disappear in his fucking magic hole. I don’t answer because he knows…
That is a stupid fucking question.
