TREVOR
My name is Trevor Grant. I’m 18 years old, originally from San Diego, California, and four years ago condemned to hell in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. So, how did I end up in Wilmington, North Carolina? It’s a pretty strange trip so buckle up.
My parents are real holy rollers, “Upper Room Assembly of God” sorts complete with speaking in tongues (too many drugs if you ask me) and pronouncing “God” with two syllables (probably brain damage from doing too many drugs). They dragged me to church until I got old enough to stay home. I liked sleeping in on Sundays.
I have a younger brother, Wes, and my baby brother, Jeremy. We pretended to be good little angels in front of our parents and their friends and ran wild otherwise.
While my parents were ultra Orthodox Conservatives with a capital “C,” me and my brothers were out, loud, and proud, California liberals. I was as gay as a three dollar bill while my brother Wes was non-binary. Jeremy was still figuring himself out personally but he stayed busy drumming up support for causes like saving the planet or feeding the hungry. Eventually word reached my parents ears that their little darlings weren’t the saints they pretended to be. They called us together and announced that, as the eldest, it was all my fault. My “undue influence” led my brothers into sin.
My parents gave me a choice. I could voluntarily undergo conversion therapy and repent my “sinful lifestyle” or I could leave immediately. My brothers gave me a supportive nod so I packed my shit and walked out.
I wanted to get my brothers out too but I didn't have a prayer of winning custody. I had a job at Old Navy but no car and no place to live. I couch surfed for a couple of months but my prospects were getting pretty desperate. I needed to get the fuck out of the South and make a fresh start. A guy online that I’d been camming with by the name of Pete invited me to visit him in Wilmington. It wasn’t New York but it was closer. I put in my two weeks notice at my job and Pete sent the ticket.
I wasn’t stupid, I knew what Pete wanted and I gave it willingly. He was a means to an end. I made the mistake of thinking he felt the same way but no, he turned out to be a possessive control freak with anger management issues. That came to a head in spectacular fashion.
We went clubbing one night. Pete made an arrangement with the door guy to sneak me in since I was too young. I overheard them talking and I think Pete paid the door guy with my ass. Whatever, I didn’t mind. I just wanted a moment to myself to cut loose and forget my shitty life for a while. I closed my eyes and danced alone until I felt like someone was watching me. I opened my eyes and there was this total snack dancing in my space.
He was tall, black, a little older than me, maybe six feet, slim, muscles in all the right places, a short fade and a big smile. He looked at me like he wanted to eat me alive. My dick was so onboard with this idea. We started dirty dancing with my guy grinding against my ass. We were in the zone and feeling fine when Pete yanked me off the dance floor. He had a death grip on my wrist.
“Dude, what the fuck?” I yanked free.
“You didn’t think I’d see you whoring on the dance floor?” Pete spat at me with sour breath..
“I didn’t think you’d care! It ain’t like we’re in a relationship.” I looked around as people were watching. Pete didn’t seem to care.
“You’re my sub, bitch! I fucked you, I fed you, you’re sleeping in my goddamn bed. I own your ass!”
I laughed, “Excuse me? I’m your what?”
He stabbed a finger at me. “I’m your Dom, you’re my sub. Your place is at my feet. You don’t fuck anyone else, you don’t even smile at anyone else without my permission, got it?”
I couldn’t stop laughing. “Pete, tell me…” I huffed for breath. “Do you jack off to ‘Fifty Shades of Gray’ in your mom’s basement?”
Not my smartest moment.
I never saw the punch. I was suddenly on my back, stunned, with Pete straddling my lap. He twisted my shirt collar with one fist to hold me still while he reared back to pulverize my face with the other. I turned my head to avoid the blow when it stopped without warning. I peered up through bleary eyes as two of the hottest guys I’d ever seen in my life pulled Pete off of me. A third guy just as hot as the others dragged me to my feet and got me the hell out of there. Snack Number Three, Seth Westin-Hall, set me up with a safe place to sleep before the blood quit running from my nose. That was my introduction to The Village.
The Village is like a charity or maybe a halfway house. They take in LGBTQ2+ guys down on their luck and help them with a place to stay, a job, help with school, therapy, whatever a guy needs to take his best step forward in life, all with no strings attached. It was all so surreal. This was everything I needed and it found me. It took a while before I accepted that they were legit. I was kind of disappointed they weren’t a depraved sex cult. I wouldn’t have minded spending my nights chained in their sex dungeon.
Anyway, Ash was a fellow Villager. He had been there months ahead of me. He worked as a professional artist and had just landed a cushy job in Phoenix, Arizona. We’re making the trip cross-country in Ash’s old green Jetta, named “Yoda.”
We didn’t hit it off at first. I saw Ash briefly on my first day. Seth stopped by their door to say hello but Ash was running around like a chicken with its head off, getting ready for a trip. The next time we met, Ash caught me and Seth coming out of my first therapy session. He was all wound up about something and barely noticed me. I could’ve blown Ash off as an asshole but he was really worked up, about ready to cry, and upset about something. He was fidgeting, like he was about to crawl out of their skin. At that moment I saw my baby brother having one of his fits.
Jeremy is on the autism spectrum and sometimes he becomes overstimulated. The world becomes too much to handle and he goes a little crazy. Ash acted the same way. Then and there I understood Ash was thrown out into the world all alone like me and he had the added hell of facing it as neurodivergent. I made a promise to myself to be nice to the guy.
It helped that Ash was so cute. No, Ash wasn’t cute, he was about the prettiest guy I’d ever laid eyes on. Ash was tiny for a guy at 5’2”. He had pale skin. I noticed it because it was so smooth and hairless, like a girl. He had deep, dark, reddish brown hair and big blue eyes with long, sooty lashes. They had a small nose and pouty red lips with a pointy chin. He kind of reminded me of an elf, slim and delicate looking.
Ash surprised me later when he stopped by my room to hang out. After that we just clicked. We became best friends. We went everywhere and did everything together. The other Villagers gave us shit, calling us “conjoined twins” but it was all in good fun. Ash reminded me of my brothers and I didn't feel so homesick. Now he was moving away.
I felt sick in my gut at the idea of Ash leaving but this job was an incredible opportunity. I didn't want them to go but I couldn’t live with myself if I put my selfish feelings ahead of my best friend. I jumped at the chance when Ash needed someone to ride shotgun on the long drive. That gave us a little more time together.
We made good time with no wrecks or detours to slow us down. We stopped in Atlanta to switch drivers and take in the touristy shit. We took a tour of the “Coke” factory and ate at this greasy spoon place called “The Varsity” Before getting back on the road. We played games to pass the time.
“Fuck, marry, kill–Chris Hemsworth.” I smirked as Ash looked scandalized.
“Ain’t he married? With kids? I don’t think he’s available.”
“It’s a game, dumbass! If you had a chance and if he was willing, would you fuck, marry, or kill Chris Hemsworth?”
“Well, I ain’t killing nobody. I guess I’d have to fuck him.” He clearly didn’t like the idea and that surprised me.
“Oh, my God! You don't like Thor?” I gawked incredulously.
“I like him just fine. He is a nice guy and I love his muscles but I don’t care for men with beards.” Ash wrinkled their nose.
“Oh, ye poor, virginal, little soul, you have no idea what you’re missing. A beard feels so fucking good when a guy is eating me out.”
“TREVOR!” He gasped in shock.
“What? It’s just the two of us, loosen up!” I smirked. “I’d marry Chris Hemsworth in a hot second.”
“If beards are so great, why don’t you have one?” Ash poked.
“I think I look better with a clean shave. A full beard itches and takes time to groom properly.”
“Oh, so you like beards on other guys, good to know.” Ash reached across and lightly brushed my afternoon stubble with their fingers. That sent a delicious shock straight down my spine to my dick and before I knew it, I leaned into Ash’s touch. I felt heat rising in my cheeks while Ash blushed beet red.
“Haven't you ever grown a beard?” I wondered and Ash looked sad.
“I’ve only been taking hormones regularly since I’ve been with The Village. Maybe someday.”
“Well, you look better anyway.” I smiled.
“I look like a girl.” He sulked.
“Maybe a little but you look like a guy too. I think you look really special.”
He fell quiet for a while and I feared I might’ve said something wrong. Then Ash spoke real soft, “Thank you.”
I changed the topic real quick. “Okay, so, what about Chris Evans? Fuck, marry, kill?”
Ash turned beet red to the tips of their ears. He seemed to really struggle. I tried to help. “There is no right or wrong answer, dude. It’s okay. We’re having fun–aren’t we?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to talking about things like this out loud. Online is another thing.”
“I know, that’s why we’re doing it. The Ash we see online is the Ash the world needs to see in person. So, answer the question.”
“You are a sadist.” He grumbled but produced their phone and let me see their lock screen. I saw “Captain America” himself from behind.
I laughed. “That’s ‘America’s Ass!’”
“YES IT IS and I’d, so, marry him.” Ash breathed a wistful sigh.
Something was off. “Wait a minute,” I frowned, “he grows a beard during ‘Infinity War.’”
“Yeah, but he shaves it off in ‘Endgame.’”
“Point,” I nodded. Yeah, I was kind of a baby nerd. I pulled over at a rest stop after a couple of hours.
“Why are we stopping?” Ash wondered.
“I have to piss like a racehorse. It was all that Coke we drank on the tour. Why don’t you get some drinks and snacks from the vending machines while I’m gone?”
“Oh, sure!” He jumped out. We were on a mission.
ASH
I felt like we had been driving forever already after the Coke tour and dealing with Atlanta traffic–who named so many streets “Peachtree” anyway?
So, we pulled over at a rest stop so Trevor could use the public bathroom. I was impressed with how well Yoda held up on the freeway. For an old man (or Jedi if I’m being technical) he had a lot of life in him. Trevor went to the bathroom and I went to get drinks and snacks from the vending machine.
Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh my god! There were so many great choices! I kinda wanted savory, but then again the Skittles were calling to me. Maybe chocolate, like a Baby Ruth or maybe Snickers? Wait, what if Trevor didn’t like peanuts? What if he was allergic or something? I didn’t want to kill my best friend. He was the only one I had. I wasn’t done with him yet! I just stood there biting my nails. I couldn't decide! I waited for Trevor but he never came, so I just bought a bunch of snacks and candy, and a couple of sodas to last us until the next gas stop.
I went back to the car to wait, but it was like five more minutes and he still didn’t come back. By that time I had to pee, so I went to the bathroom. I walked in and I could see Trevor standing by the urinal, with another guy standing next to him. When they heard my footsteps they both moved apart and Trev looked my way. When he saw it was me, he smiled and turned towards me a little bit. When the guy next to him saw what he was doing, he did the same thing.
Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh my god! They both had hardons! My best friend was stroking a stranger in a rest stop bathroom! Trevor kept his eye on me as the guy reached back and started stroking Trevor’s hardon again. Our road trip just took an interesting detour.
My jaw hit the floor, figuratively speaking. I stood paralyzed, my brain sparking and misfiring. Blood rushed to my dick so fast I got dizzy when Trev nodded for me to join them. My “responsible adult” brain screamed that we were in a public place and someone could come in at any second. My “horny” brain beat up “responsible adult,” gagged him, and locked him in the trunk.
I shuffled forward like I was dreaming. I could not tear my gaze away from Trev’s dick. He was on the long side at around seven or maybe eight inches but his girth was phenomenal. He had what looked like three normal-sized boners stacked like cordwood and wrapped in veiny skin, tapering into about the prettiest head I’d ever seen on a sexual organ. I watched, mesmerized, as the stranger’s hand pulled Trevor's foreskin back and forth over the glistening head. I felt a tug at my jeans and looked down. Trev was trying to open the fly with one hand. I helped with trembling fingers and soon he tugged my hardon out into open air. The heat in my cheeks deepened with shame.
I started hormone therapy late so my dick never grew much. My shaft is skinny and I’m lucky to top out at five inches at my hardest, most often I’m a solid four. The boys at the group home used to laugh and call me “inchworm.” Martin (the sweet guy I played with at the Resort during my first business trip) didn’t complain and nobody laughed now so maybe it was okay. I peeked from under my lashes at Trev. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at me. I giggled and suddenly, this was fun! The risk of getting caught only added to it.
“You are fucking wet already,” he laughed softly.
“I always leak a lot.” I confessed, equally quiet. I didn’t know why we were whispering but I didn’t care to ask. Trevor started jacking on my dick and then it hit me like a bolt of lightning. Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh my god! My best friend was stroking me! It was the best feeling EVER!
“Get him,” Trev directed and I remembered the other guy. He was a nice looking fella, about our age, tall (well, everybody is taller than me. He was taller than Trev and Trev was 6’ even), broad and lanky, with a sandy blond undercut under a baseball cap. He was scruffy but not like a stubble beard, more like he hadn’t shaved yet. He was dressed in a red and white Georgia Bulldogs letterman jacket, jeans, and sneakers. He wore Harry Potter glasses with deep brown eyes. He gave me a pretty smile and looked down. I followed and locked on a dick to post rave reviews about.
I wrapped my hand around a good, solid six-incher, thick and smooth, cut, with a flared mushroom head. I hadn’t seen many dicks outside of porn but I was becoming a connoisseur. I gathered the clear, warm, viscous fluid drooling from his slit on my thumb and smeared it across the head. He shivered and purred deep in his throat. “Yeah, fuck yeah, like that, little guy. Squeeze harder.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. Soon we fell into a rhythm with the sound of wet, slapping flesh and breathy grunts of pleasure filling the bathroom and the smell of rutting men mixed with the fragrance of pine cleaner and hand soap imprinting on my brain. I was in another world but a twinge of jealousy poked at me. This stranger was jacking Trev, my best friend. I said “Let’s switch” and we reversed partners. The stranger stroked me, Trevor stroked the stranger, and I got what I wanted, Trev’s fat, juicy dick throbbing in my hand. I bit off more than I could chew, though, because I couldn't fit my little hand around Trev’s girth. I squeezed tight and focused on the head. I peeked up to see how he was doing and Trev was giving me a dreamy, glassy-eyed smile. I grinned from ear-to-ear and went to town making him feel good. It felt like we were stroking forever when I couldn't hold back anymore.
“Oh, I think, I’m–” and I spilled over the stranger’s fist with wracking, rapturous spasms.
“Oh, fuck–” The stranger growled just as he launched half a dozen ropes into the space between us. Trevor followed soon after. He pinched his face with intense effort as his dick jerked in my hand. He uttered an all-consuming moan of ecstasy as he painted the floor with several globs of hot, white cream. The rest of his climax dribbled over my fist like lava. I gathered as much as I could in my palm and licked it clean. I peeped as Trev did the same with his gaze locked on my hand. I went back three times to gather more of his cum, licking my hand like a cat while Trev watched, smiling.
“Thanks guys,” the stranger gave us a curt nod and beat a hasty exit, leaving us to clean up the mess.
We got back to the car without incident and I sat for a moment. I stared at Trev, he stared at me, then we burst out laughing together.
“I can-NOT believe we did that!” I giggled maniacally.
“Any regrets?” Trevor grew serious and I thought about it. I felt heat rising in my cheeks but I had to be honest, if only for myself. “Only that we didn’t do it sooner.”
“Yeah, but we’ll have other opportunities.” He raised his hand and we fist bumped. The other guy waved as he backed out in a white RAM pickup. This day was so weird but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
