Joey sat on his cousin Adam’s couch, feet planted on the coffee table, beer in hand. The TV was on, playing something neither of them were really watching. It was late enough that the glow of the screen felt too bright, the quiet between them comfortable but heavy.
Joey and Adam had always been close even though Adam was about seven or eight years older. But lately, Joey had been over Adam’s place more than usual, like a lot. Adam was the only guy Joey knew who could even remotely understand what he was feeling.
Joey wasn’t sure if Adam called himself gay, but he was practically married to this guy Noah, so it’s the same thing. But then he thought the same thing about Justin and that got…confusing. So who knows? He sighed, rolling the beer between his palms, then spoke before he could think twice.
“So, uh. What’s it like?”
Adam didn’t look away from the TV. “What’s what like?”
Joey shifted, feeling dumb for even asking, but now that he’d started, he had to finish.
“Fucking a dude.”
That got Adam’s attention. He turned his head, eyebrows lifting just slightly, then grinned.
“Oh, you mean fucking Justin.”
Joey groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “Dude—”
Adam waved him off. “Nah, I got you.” He stretched, taking a long sip of his beer, looking completely unfazed.
Joey kept his gaze on the screen, trying to sound casual. “I just… I don’t wanna fuck a dude’s ass, man.”
Adam let out a short laugh. “Okay, so what do you wanna fuck?”
Joey hesitated. He didn’t know how to say it, not in a way that didn’t make him sound insane. Finally, he just exhaled. “I don’t know. I just… want to fuck Justin.”
Adam squinted at him. “But you don’t wanna fuck his ass?”
Joey shook his head. “No.”
“So, a pussy,” Adam said simply.
Joey swallowed, staring at his beer. “Yeah.”
Adam blinked. “But it’s a dude?”
“Yeah.”
“But you still want a pussy.”
Joey groaned again, rubbing his face. “Dude, I don’t fucking know.” He let his hands drop, exhaling hard. “It’s Justin.”
Adam leaned back, grinning wide now. “Oh my god.”
“Shut up.”
Adam shook his head, laughing under his breath, then let it settle. He glanced over at Joey, watching him for a second before shrugging.
“It’s easy, man. Just think of it as a pussy.”
Joey looked at him, frowning. “It’s not, though.”
Adam shrugged again. “It is if you say it is.”
Joey took another sip of beer, rolling that thought around in his head. He exhaled. “Is it the same as a girl’s?”
Adam smirked, shifting in his seat. “Nah. It’s tighter. No natural lube, so you gotta be careful. But once he’s loose? Same deal. Sink in slow, feel it stretch, let him take you.”
Joey gripped his beer tighter. He tried not to think about it too much, but it was already settling into his brain, the words clicking into place.
Adam glanced at him, noticing.
“Stop thinking about it like it’s different. You’re getting lost in your own head.” He took another sip, setting his bottle down on the table. “You wanna fuck Justin, yeah?”
Joey swallowed. “Yeah.”
“You want him to feel like a girl for you.”
Joey’s face heated. “…Yeah.”
Adam leaned in slightly, voice lower now, amused but serious. “Then call it a pussy. Make him call it a pussy.”
Joey felt something shift inside him, something deep and physical. He tried to ignore it, but Adam saw the way his grip tightened around the bottle.
Adam grinned. “See? You’re already getting it.”
Joey exhaled. “So that’s it? That’s all I gotta do?”
Adam tilted his head. “I mean, depends how deep you wanna go.”
Joey frowned. “What do you mean?”
Adam took another slow sip, eyes sharp now. “You want a pussy? Make him shave it.”
Joey’s breath caught. It hit him, sharp and immediate. Before he could stop himself, before he even knew why, the words slipped out.
“He already does.”
Adam paused. His eyebrows lifted, expression shifting just slightly.
Joey swallowed. “Justin. He already shaves. Everywhere.”
The silence stretched between them, the TV buzzing quietly in the background. Adam grinned slow, leaned back, and picked up his beer again.
“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”
Joey looks at him. Nods. Adam cracks a smile, pats him on the back.
“Come on, let’s go get a drink. Something hard.”
The bar was dim, low-lit, the kind of place where the music was just loud enough to keep other people’s conversations out of earshot. Joey and Adam sat at the far end, whiskey neat in front of them, the slow burn settling in their chests.
They weren’t in a rush. Just sitting, drinking, letting the night stretch out. Joey exhaled, ran a hand over his jaw. He didn’t know why he said it—or maybe he did.
“One of my favorite things to do with girls is eat them out.”
Adam didn’t look up from his drink. “Yeah?”
Joey shrugged, staring at the amber swirl in his glass. “Yeah.”
Adam waited. Let it hang. Because Joey wasn’t just saying that. He was getting at something. Finally, Joey exhaled, still not looking at him.
“So… can I do that with Justin?”
Adam blinked once, then turned his head. “What?”
Joey took a slow sip, then set his glass down. “Like, is that… a thing? Can I?”
Adam just stared at him. Then snorted. “Jesus Christ, dude.”
Joey frowned. “What?”
Adam shook his head, swirling his whiskey. “You act like you’re trying to break some kind of sacred law.”
“I just mean—” Joey exhaled. “Like, is it okay?”
Adam smirked, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Joey felt his face heat slightly. “I don’t know, man. I just—” He paused, exhaling again. “It’s different, right?”
Adam laughed, short and sharp. “You think Justin’s gonna stop you?”
Joey shifted in his seat, adjusting his grip on his glass. Adam leaned in slightly, voice low, amused but serious.
“Listen, dude. If you wanna eat out Justin, you eat out Justin. The only thing stopping you is you.”
Joey swallowed. His fingers twitched slightly on the rim of his glass.
Adam smirked. “And if you wanna make it make sense in your head? Just think about it like this.” He tapped his fingers against the wood of the bar. “That’s his pussy now.”
Joey’s breath caught just slightly. His grip tightened on the glass. Adam raised his drink to his lips, smirking over the rim.
“Go ahead, Joey. Knock yourself out.”
Joey exhaled slow, staring into his drink. Then, quieter,
“Does it taste good?”
Adam smiled, lazy, knowing. He swirled his glass, then looked at Joey.
“You like the way Justin smells?”
Joey nodded.
Adam’s smirk deepened. “The way he tastes when you kiss him?”
Joey nodded again. “Yeah.”
Adam took a slow sip, savoring it. Then set his glass down, looking Joey right in the eye.
“Then you’re gonna love the taste of his pussy, Joey. I swear.”
Joey went still. The whiskey burned hot in his chest. And suddenly, he needed to see Justin.
They were just hanging out.
Shooting the shit, drinking, watching something on TV, but neither of them were really paying attention. The glow of the screen flickered across Justin’s big shoulders, his thick thighs stretched out on the couch, lazy and loose. Joey sat next to him, trying to act normal.
Like he hadn’t spent the past few nights jerking off to the memory of Justin’s mouth. And then, out of nowhere-
Joey, casual, forcing it out like it’s nothing: “So, uh. You ever gonna do that again?”
Justin smirked, stretching out, acting like he didn’t already know this was coming. “Do what, big guy?”
Joey rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “You know what.”
Justin grinned, shifting slightly, watching Joey like a cat watching something trapped. “Thought you were straight, man.”
Joey grumbled, still not looking at him. “…I was just thinking.”
Justin leaned in, voice lower, teasing, but with that knowing edge. “Yeah? Think you wanna put that big dick back in your girl’s mouth?”
Joey finally looked at him. And this time, he didn’t deny it. Joey, shifting, clearing his throat, voice a little rough: “…I can only do it if you dress up.”
Justin tilted his head slightly, watching him. Then, slowly, he stood up.
Justin, smiling, cocky as hell: “Oh, yeah?”
He grabbed the waistband of his shorts. Pulled them down. A red lace thong. Thin straps sitting high on his hips, snug against his waist, fabric barely covering anything. Joey sucked in a breath, jaw tensing.
Justin watched him, reading every single reaction, then pulled off his sweatshirt. Underneath was a white crop top, barely covering his big pecs, his pink nipples peeking out just slightly. Justin tilted his head, his hands resting lightly on his waist.
Justin, smirking, raising an eyebrow: “Like this?”
Joey just stared. Swallowed, his eyes dragging over the curve of Justin’s waist, the way the lace hugged him, the way his body was so fucking built but also—fuck. Justin was so fucking sexy.
His cock was already getting hard. Joey, low, breathless, almost dazed:
“Yeah.”
His breath got heavier. His fingers twitched on his thigh. Then he shifted, leaned back slightly and pulled out his cock. Thick. Heavy. Already hard. He spat in his palm, started stroking slow, eyes locked on Justin’s body.
Justin watched him, grinning. Then he started flexing. His biceps peaked as he curled his arms up, chest pumped, abs flexed, watching Joey’s reaction.
Joey just kept stroking. Silent. Eyes dark. Jaw clenched. Watching.
Justin grinned wider, rolling his shoulders, shifting into a side pose, showing off his thick pecs, the curve of his waist, the way the crop top barely held him in. Then, he turned around. His big back flexed, muscles rippling as he spread wide. Then, slowly, he shifted his stance. Rolled his hips. And made his ass jiggle. The lace disappeared between his cheeks, framing the heavy muscles.
Joey let out a slow breath, his grip tightening around his cock. Justin glanced over his shoulder, smirking. Justin, teasing, voice smooth, knowing:
“You know it’s ‘cuz you have such a big fat penis that I’m doing this, right, Joey?”
Joey just kept stroking. Silent. Watching. Taking it in. Justin turned back around, stepping closer.
Joey was huge now. Hard. Thick. So fucking horny for Justin it was ridiculous. Justin licked his lips, tilting his head, looking down at Joey’s cock. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to his knees.
Justin, smirking, voice lower, sultry now: “Wanna show me just how big it really is?”
Justin knelt, hands sliding up Joey’s thick thighs, tongue flicking over Joey’s heavy, full balls. Joey groaned, his cock throbbing, fat and leaking against Justin’s face. Justin grinned, rubbing his cheek against the thick shaft, nuzzling into it, breathing him in. Justin, voice low, teasing, but playful:
“God, Joey. You’re so fucking big.”
Joey let out a slow breath through his teeth. Justin pressed a slow, wet kiss to the base, then another, licking up the length, dragging his tongue right along the thick vein. Joey’s fingers twitched against his thigh. Because he wanted to grab Justin. Wanted to flip him over. Wanted to shove that tiny little thong aside and—
Fuck.
He groaned, tipping his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Justin didn’t stop. He just kept licking, kept mouthing at him, kept working Joey’s fat balls with his tongue.
Joey couldn’t fucking think straight. His body was burning. His cock was aching. His mind was screaming at him to just—say something. But he didn’t. He just kept gripping his cock, stroking slow, breathing harder.
Justin pulled back, lips slick, breath warm against Joey’s thigh. And he looked up.
Joey was staring at home with an intense look. Justin, curious, not teasing anymore: “What?”
Joey froze. Justin, watching him now, waiting for something:
“Dude, what?”
Joey shifted, cleared his throat, barely holding it together: “I…”
His jaw clenched. His abs flexed. His cock twitched against Justin’s cheek. Justin raised an eyebrow. Joey was staring at him. Hard. Like he was about to say something he shouldn’t.
Justin, waiting: “Dude. Say it.”
Joey’s fingers tightened on his thigh. His voice strained, almost like he was forcing it out:
“I wanna fuck.”
Justin blinked. Justin, tilting his head slightly:
“Yeah?”
Joey swallowed, his jaw tight, nodding: “Yeah.”
Justin leaned in again, pressed another slow, teasing kiss to Joey’s cock, his voice lower now, testing:
“You ever fucked a dude before?”
Joey let out a breath through his nose, shaking his head: “No.”
Justin sat back slightly, eyes flicking up to Joey’s.
“You want me?”
Joey exhaled, sharp, like he’d been holding something in.
Then, finally his voice rough, undeniable: “Yeah. I fucking do.”
But then it came out completely. Joey, lower now, almost like a confession:
“I wanna fuck you like a girl.”
Justin blinked. Then, slowly he smiled and he stood up. He reached out his hand. Joey stared at it for half a second. And then he took it. Justin grinned.
“We’re gonna need so much lube, bro.”
Joey choked on a laugh. “Yeah. No shit.”
And then Justin pulled him inside the bedroom.
The bedroom lights were low, with light from the hallway spilling in across the floor. The air felt too warm, thick with sweat, arousal, and the ghost of everything Joey had just said. The red lace thong clung to Justin’s ass, the white crop top loose over his chest, damp where he’d sweated through it. His skin was flushed, oiled in places from earlier, thighs still slick, lips swollen from sucking.
Joey stood behind him for a long beat, cock still in his fist, heavy and leaking, spit-slick from Justin’s mouth. He couldn’t stop staring—at the back of Justin’s neck, at the way the thin fabric clung to his shoulders, how the lace hugged the curve of him like a fucking promise.
Justin looked over his shoulder, mouth open slightly, his voice low. Joey swallowed. His hand flexed around the base of his cock.
Justin didn’t smile. Didn’t tease. He just walked to the bed.
Joey watched him crawl up onto the mattress, ass round and obscene in that red stretch of thong. Justin turned at the top of the bed, kneeled with his thighs spread, waiting. Offering.
Joey crossed the room slow, breath caught somewhere between disbelief and hunger. His cock twitched, full and aching, as he stepped in front of Justin. He didn’t say anything at first—just looked down at him, the way the crop top framed his chest, the way his lips were parted like he was already ready to be used again.
Justin leaned in, close, his breath warm, and took a long, deliberate inhale against Joey’s boner, nuzzling into the thick patch of hair, the scent, the weight of it. Then gently kissing up the long shaft until his lips found the head—soft at first, reverent—and kissed it like it was something holy.
Then he started nursing, his whole world narrowed down to the pulsing red head of Joey’s big fat penis. He kissed and slurped the head, his tongue tickling in the slit, making Joey moan.
Joey’s voice cracked slightly when he spoke. “You really… you want this?”
Justin didn’t look up. Just nodded once, mouth still working, voice soft. “Uh-huh.”
His tongue slid wetly along the underside, slow and searching. He took more in, sucked deeper, his hand wrapping around the base, steadying, anchoring, tugging on Joey’s big balls full of sperm. Joey groaned, low and real, one hand sliding into Justin’s hair, not pulling, just guiding, holding him in place.
Justin let go with his hands. He didn’t need them. He was worshipping now, mouth wide, eyes half-lidded, tongue dragging, spit pooling. The sounds filled the room: wet, obscene, perfect.
He sank lower, took more, deeper, until his nose brushed Joey’s bush. Then he pulled back, licking along the shaft, sides, head, the ridge, kissing, nosing, then sucking again like he couldn’t stop.
Joey’s voice came out rough, like it scraped against his throat. “You’re—fuck—you’re so good at this.”
Justin blinked up at him, mouth flushed. “Just want to make you feel good.”
Joey held himself at the base as Justin went back down, slow at first, then hungrier. Joey started to move, hips rolling forward, cock sliding across Justin’s tongue, fucking into his mouth with a rhythm too slow to be casual. His grip in Justin’s hair tightened, his focus narrowed. Justin let it happen.
Spit dripped down Joey’s shaft, smeared across Justin’s cheeks. His mouth stayed open, lost in it, eyes dazed and happy. Joey used him. Slid deep, then pulled out, slapped the shaft across Justin’s face, rubbed it over his cheeks, his lips, his nose. Justin kissed it every time it passed.
Then he dipped lower, kissed Joey’s balls, mouth wet and soft, while Joey smeared slick precum across his forehead. Justin grabbed the base again, stroked while sucking hard, fast, loud, the smacks echoing filthy and raw. His tongue worked the head, the tip, the underside. Faster. Wetter. Suck. Stroke. Swallow.
Joey groaned deep, grabbed Justin’s head again, pushed him down hard, then pulled him up. Over and over. Down. Up. Down. Up. His cock glistening, Justin’s mouth red and swollen. He teased Justin’s lips with the tip, made him kiss it, lick it, beg for it. Justin’s tongue flicked out, soft and slow, eyes glassy.
Joey leaned down and took Justin's face in his hands, a thin line of spit going from his cock to Justin's mouth. He kissed him, his tongue searching in Justin's mouth. Then he stepped back and got onto the bed.
Joey laid back on the bed, chest rising and falling. Justin crawled up between his legs and wrapped a fist around the base, took control, took over. He swallowed Joey’s cock as deep as he could, sucked until his cheeks hollowed. He slurped, licked, drooled, let spit run down the shaft, down his own chin.
Joey’s hand returned to Justin’s hair, firm but gentle, keeping him there. Justin worked him, up and down, lips stretched wide, spit bubbling. He went all the way down, paused, let his throat tighten around Joey’s length, then came back up slow, leaving a trail of wet, glistening worship behind.
Joey exhaled hard, eyes locked on the way Justin’s mouth shone in the low light. Then, voice low, barely more than breath:
“Shit. You are the best fucking girl.” Justin giggled on Joey's dick.
Joey watched the way spit clung to his cock when Justin pulled back, then stretched in a glistening thread as he dove back in. Over and over. Slow. Steady. Endless.
Justin was quieter now, working with his whole body, elbows tucked in, hands wrapped tight around the base. His mouth opened wider, jaw slack, letting Joey’s cock slide in deep, filling him completely. His eyes fluttered shut as he bobbed again, and again, like nothing else existed. Just this.
Joey groaned, low in his throat, his head tipping back against the sheets. The heat was building too fast. It wasn’t just Justin’s mouth—it was the way he moved, the way he let himself be used, the way he wanted it. Joey felt his thighs twitch, the first sharp pull of tension in his gut, the unmistakable flicker of something close.
Not yet. He needed this to last.
His hand slid to Justin’s cheek, gentle. His fingers curved under his chin, guiding him back with a quiet, grounding pressure.
Justin blinked up, dazed, lips swollen and wet. Joey didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him. Then he sat up, slow, and kissed him.
Justin melted into it. Their mouths met wet, sticky with spit and precum, and none of that mattered. Joey’s hand cradled Justin’s face as he kissed deeper—open-mouthed, slow, greedy.
Justin kissed back, his own hands pressed to Joey’s chest, holding on. It was messy and hungry and honest, tongues sliding, lips parting and dragging, breath caught in between.
Joey pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead still pressed to Justin’s.
“Turn around for me.”
Justin blinked, slow.
“I want to see your pussy.”
Justin’s breath caught. His eyes flicked down, then back up. He didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders shifted, something letting go.
Joey ran a thumb along his jaw. “Come on. Let me see.”
Justin nodded, small, then bigger, and turned.
He crawled forward and moved to the center of the bed, the lace thong pulled tight between his cheeks, the crop top riding up over the smooth flex of his back. He hesitated for a beat, then dropped to his elbows, arched his spine, and spread his knees wide.
Joey watched, breathing through his nose like he was holding something back. Justin looked over his shoulder, just once. Checking.
Joey’s voice was low, almost hoarse. “Good,” he said. “Just like that.”
Justin held the pose, back arched, thighs spread wide. The red thong framed everything: the soft curve of his cheeks, the deep line down the center, the smooth, tight skin beneath. He rocked back slightly, just enough for the lace to stretch, shift, then settle again.
Joey sat up, legs draped open in front of him, cock hard and gleaming against his stomach. He wasn’t moving. Just watching.
Justin dropped lower on his elbows, then started to move, slow, controlled. A small roll of his hips, the thong pulling taut, then bouncing. He rocked again, higher this time, letting his ass jiggle with the motion, lace biting into his skin and riding up slightly.
Joey exhaled, sharp. His hand went up and down his thick shaft, his balls tightening up.
Justin reached back with one hand, pulled the cheeks apart for just a second, then let them fall back together with a soft bounce. The red strap of the thong vanished briefly, then snapped back into view.
“Jesus,” Joey muttered. He didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Justin shifted again, slower this time. The thong slipped deeper between the swell of his cheeks, the fabric riding low and snug. He spread his knees even wider. Waited.
Then, soft, almost shy, he said, “You can touch it.”
Joey froze for a beat. Then moved forward, like something had snapped.
His hands hovered first. One settled lightly on Justin’s hip, the other brushing the small of his back. Skin hot. Oiled. Smooth. He slid his palms down over the swell of muscle, the curve of softness, the place where the thong cut between the cheeks. He traced the edge with his thumb, gentle, and Justin shifted into it, breathing low.
Joey let out a sound. Somewhere between a breath and a groan.
His fingers slipped lower, to the base of the thong, then back up, spreading Justin open just slightly. He stared like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The small pink center, tight and clean and framed perfectly by lace.
His thumb pulled the strap back—then let it snap, a soft sting right across the smoothest part. Justin shivered. Joey swallowed hard, his voice coming out rough and fast now, words starting to trip over each other.
“Fuck. Fuck, it’s so—fuck, it’s so smooth. You shaved everything? You’re—shit. You’re perfect. I didn’t know—I didn’t think it would look like this. It’s like—it’s just. It’s a fucking pussy, man.”
His hands kept roaming. Gripping, spreading, stroking. He tugged the thong to the side and let it snap back again, watched the ripple of muscle and flesh, the way Justin’s hole twitched under the attention.
“God,” Joey muttered. “You’re so fucking soft. I wanna—I wanna eat it. I wanna fuck it. I wanna kiss it.”
His voice cracked on the last one, his hands still on Justin, his eyes wide, pupils blown out. He looked stunned. Like he was falling in love with the idea of it, right there in real time.
Justin didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He just breathed steady, open, waiting. Didn't want to spook him.
Joey kept his hands on Justin’s ass, thumbs spreading the cheeks apart, gaze locked. The thong barely covered anything now, the lace twisted and taut to the side, an afterthought. What mattered was the soft center, the pink of him, the slow twitch of his hole under the warm air and attention.
He stared like it was art. Like it was something rare. Something sacred. He dragged his thumbs down slowly, smoothing over the curve, then back up, tracing the divide, the heat. His breath gasped every time Justin shifted, every time the muscles flexed under his palms.
“You okay?” Joey asked, voice barely a whisper.
Justin nodded into the mattress, cheek turned to the side, breath steady. “Yeah.”
Joey nodded to himself. Swallowed.
He let one hand drift lower, knuckles brushing the seam of Justin’s pussy, thumb ghosting around it without pressure. Justin flinched, just a little, but didn’t move away. Joey exhaled, long and slow. Then leaned closer, one hand steadying him on the bed while the other came to his mouth.
He spit into his fingers. Thick. Wet. Let it hang, then fall.
The slickness landed just above Justin’s hole, warm and messy. Joey dragged his fingers through it, spread it gently with his fingertips. His touch was light, almost too light. Circling. Testing. Justin breathed out, legs relaxing more.
Joey touched the center again. This time more directly. One fingertip pressed, then lifted. Then again. A little more pressure. He watched the way Justin’s body responded, the way the ring of muscle tightened, then loosened, just slightly.
“You still good?” Joey asked, breath tight.
“Yeah,” Justin said. His voice was low. “Keep going.”
Joey let out a shaky breath. “Fuck.”
He rubbed small, slow circles, coaxing the spit into a slick layer. His fingertip pressed again, deeper this time. The skin gave a little. Still tight, still closed, but softer now, receptive.
His mouth was half open. His cock twitched.
“I can’t believe this is real,” he whispered, like the thought had just tumbled out. “You’re just—letting me.”
Justin shifted again, hips tilting, pushing back just a little.
Joey’s fingertip pressed again, and this time, the smallest part slid in. Just the edge. Just enough to feel it. Justin’s whole body went still.
Joey froze. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” Justin breathed. “You can… do more.”
Joey’s hand shook. Just a little. He pushed in further. Slow. Careful. He could feel the heat, the tight grip around him. His eyes were wide, lips parted, like he was feeling it in more places than just his hand.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “You feel… incredible.”
His other hand was still on Justin’s hip, steadying him. Grounding both of them.
He pulled his finger out. Spit again. Slicked it. Pressed in slower this time, watched it disappear. Watched Justin’s hole open for him. Welcome him. He was careful. Intentional. And completely, utterly obsessed.
Joey eased his finger out again, slow, careful, watching the way Justin’s hole softened and closed, slick and twitching slightly. He stared. Not just because it was hot, though it was, but because something about it didn’t feel the way he’d expected it to.
It felt… different.
Not just an ass.
He swallowed, leaned a little closer. “It’s like…”
His voice trailed off. He reached forward and gently pulled Justin open again with both thumbs, eyes fixed. The red thong was pushed aside now, lace bunched at the crease of one cheek. Justin’s skin was smooth, soft, flushed from heat and pressure. The hole twitched again under his gaze, wet and faintly open from the slow finger-fucking.
Joey sat back for a beat, breathing hard. Then he leaned forward and spit. Right on it.
The slick landed just where he wanted it, spread out slow, and he rubbed it in with the tips of two fingers, circling the rim. Justin shifted his hips slightly, a sound slipping from him, something between a breath and a moan.
Joey’s voice came back, low, almost shy. “This…this is what a pussy should be.”
He said it like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. Like he was testing it out on his own tongue.
Justin didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. He just breathed.
Joey touched again, more deliberate now. Spit-slick fingertips sliding over the rim, teasing the center. One finger dipped in, slow, just the tip. He watched it disappear, watched the way the muscle gripped him.
“God, that’s—” He exhaled. “That’s so fucking hot.”
He slid it out, spit again, rubbed more around the edges, then pushed back in. Deeper. Still slow. Still careful.
“It’s just so soft,” he said. “And wet. And… it opens up so easy when I touch it like this.”
He leaned in closer, now resting on one elbow, and let his other hand keep spreading Justin gently open. His face hovered just inches from it.
“Can’t believe you’ve got this. Just… hiding it in a thong like that.”
His voice caught again, that boyish laugh pushing through his arousal. “It’s really a pussy, man.”
And this time, he didn’t pull away from the word.
He kissed it. Just a soft press of his lips. Then another. Then he let his tongue slip out and taste it, hesitant at first, then deeper, more deliberate. He licked around the edge, slow spirals, spit and breath and warmth.
Justin shivered. His back arched.
Joey moaned against him. “Fuck. I like it. I didn’t think— I mean, I didn’t know I’d like it this much.”
He pulled back just enough to see it again, his finger teasing the rim. “Feels like I could just… keep going.”
His voice had gone lower now, steadier.
He kissed it again. Slower. Longer. His tongue traced the seam, then flattened and dragged, wet and warm.
“Can’t believe you’ve got a pussy, Justin” he whispered. “Can’t believe I get to eat it out.”
Then he was back at it, licking, kissing, circling with his tongue. One hand gently spreading, the other resting lightly on Justin’s hip to feel how his whole body responded. Then suddenly, Joey had an idea.
“Stand up?” Joey said, voice low. “Over there?”
He pointed to the edge of the bed. Justin looked at him, smiled. It was so hot to see Joey with his big dick hard and acting all goofy with his boner ideas.
"What's up, bro? You wanna see something?"
Joey looked up at him, realizing it's the first time he's heard Justin's voice in a minute.
"Bro. This is fucking amazing. You having fun?" Joey was so amped, he sound like he was high as fuck, rolling hard, just from Justin's pussy.
Justin smiled and nodded. "Yeah."
"Yeah? Fuck yeah. Go stand over there."
Justin just nodded once and stepped into place. The crop top clung loose to his chest, the red thong riding high, fabric still twisted from earlier. He stood still, waiting, lit from the inside.
Joey rolled over onto his side, then pushed up into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. His legs hung over the edge, cock hard between his thighs, spit-slick and flushed. He looked up at Justin, standing between his legs, really up at him, and reached out slowly, both hands skimming Justin’s waist.
His thumbs slid under the crop top, then up, brushing over warm skin, teasing the undercurve of his pecs. Joey’s fingers found his nipples and circled them, slow and soft.
“You really have pretty tits, Justin.”
Justin smiled but not just with his mouth. It lit his whole face. Something quiet and full opened in his eyes, and he stood a little taller, chest pushed forward just a little. He glowed under the attention like it was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed.
Joey leaned forward, kissed just below one nipple, then pulled him in gently by the hips.
He nuzzled in, turned his head slightly, and peeked around.
“Damn,” Joey said, quiet and grinning. “You’ve got the best fuckin’ ass.”
His hands slid down, slow palms against warm skin, until they found their place, one on each cheek. He squeezed gently, then jiggled them, watching the movement with something close to wonder.
Justin tilted his head down and just stood there. Taking it. Loving it.
Joey kissed the curve of one cheek. Then again, more playful this time. “It’s like… bouncy and soft.”
He gave another little jiggle, fingers spread wide, then dragged a hand up to the red thong, tracing where the strap bit in.
“You wear this for me?” he murmured, tugging it back just a little to snap it. The sound was quiet, but the ripple it sent through Justin’s body wasn’t. His hips twitched forward slightly, like the attention alone was a kind of heat.
Joey pressed his face back in, kissed the other cheek now, wetter, letting his lips drag. “So fuckin’ cute, man. Look at this thing. Look at this fuckin’ thing.”
His voice was low and happy, drunk on it. He pulled the thong aside, kissed closer to the center, then let it fall back into place.
Then, lower now, closer to the crease, he spit slow and thick, right where the thong disappeared. He rubbed it in with two fingers, lazy circles over the fabric, the slick soaking through to warm skin underneath.
Justin’s breath caught. His thighs tensed, just slightly.
Joey sat back and looked up at him, flushed and breathless. “Get up here.” He patted the bed.
Justin climbed onto the bed, steady and smooth. He moved to all fours again, knees wide, elbows down, letting the curve of his body offer itself out. His ass was right at the edge now, perfect height, thong still stretched in place but barely hanging on.
Joey stood up and got behind him, his cock hard and thick and wet between his legs. He ran one hand along it absently, then pressed the tip between Justin’s cheeks. Not pushing, just resting it there, dragging it slowly along the line of the thong.
The fabric caught the underside of his shaft, warm and damp.
Joey exhaled. “You feel that?”
Justin nodded. Didn’t say a word.
Joey slid forward, letting the weight of his cock nestle between the cheeks, drag up and down, spreading spit and pre-cum with each slow stroke. He kept his hands on Justin’s hips, thumbs smoothing small circles.
“Goddamn,” he murmured. “You’re perfect like this.”
He leaned forward and kissed the small of Justin’s back. Then again, lower. The tip of his cock pressed against the tight seam of the thong, not pushing, just resting there.
Joey slid forward, still standing behind Justin, and brought his chest flush against Justin’s back. He didn’t move right away. Just stood there, breathing in the warmth of him, the oil on his skin, the faint sweetness of sweat and lace. His cock was nestled deep between Justin’s cheeks, heavy and slick, resting in the perfect cradle of flesh and fabric.
His arms came around slow. One hand on Justin’s belly, the other climbing higher, brushing along his ribs. He let them settle there, still for a beat.
Then, softer than before, Joey leaned in and pressed his face into the back of Justin’s neck. He nuzzled once, kissed gently, lips open and hot. The crop top was riding up higher now, bunched against his chest.
Joey let his hands move again, thumbs sliding beneath the fabric, grazing up toward Justin’s chest.
He paused. Then his fingers found Justin’s nipples. He circled them slowly, teasing with just the pads of his thumbs, and felt Justin’s breath catch under him.
“Fuck, you have the biggest, prettiest tits, Justin,” Joey said, quiet, smiling like he couldn’t believe his luck.
Justin didn’t answer, just glowed. His back leaned into Joey’s chest, his head tipping slightly, the faintest smile at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t need to say anything. He felt it.
Joey kissed the side of Justin’s neck, soft and open-mouthed, breath hot against flushed skin.
His cock was nestled deep between Justin’s cheeks now, thick and slick, riding the curve perfectly. He rocked his hips just enough to feel it drag, up, down, again, pressing into the slick seam of the thong.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “You feel insane.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Your fuckin’ ass…your pussy. It’s perfect.”
Justin looked behind him for a moment, they made eye contact.
“You have the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.”
Joey is leaking a river of pre between Justin's cheeks, the thong strap soaked with it. Joey reaches down and pulls it out of the way so his shaft could make skin contact with that smooth, tight hole. He knew the strap would make its way back, but he kind of loved it.
“I love your pussy, Justin.” Joey kissed Justin’s ear, whispering, “I love that you wanna be a girl for me.”
Justin smiled, his voice low. “Your big fat dick needs a special kind of pussy.”
Joey froze for half a second, breath caught. Then he let out a sound, part moan, part laugh, and ground forward a little harder.
“Yeah?” he murmured, lips at Justin’s ear. “Think this one’s special enough?”
Justin rocked back, just a little. Let him feel it. Joey groaned, deep and raw.
His hand slid down Justin’s chest, back to his waist. He gripped him there, anchoring them together as he thrust between his cheeks again, slow, steady. Not humping, just sliding, spreading slick all over the tight stretch of lace.
“It’s crazy,” Joey breathed. “It’s like… I was made for this. Like my dick was made for your pussy.”
Justin shivered, head still tilted back. “Maybe it was.”
Joey kissed the corner of his jaw. “You think so?”
Justin’s voice was soft, certain. “Feels like it.”
That broke something open in Joey. His hands tightened on Justin’s hips, his cock twitching where it dragged between those perfect cheeks.
“Fuck, man. I’m so into this. I didn’t know—I didn’t think it could feel this good.”
Justin nodded, quiet, and pressed back again, pushing his ass harder against Joey’s cock. “You know what your girl needs.”
Joey let out a helpless, shaky breath, then leaned back, just enough to look down again. His hands spread Justin gently, guiding his cock right over the seam of the thong, the tip dragging low, tracing that slick, tight little center he’d been fingering earlier.
“I gotta get back in there,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I gotta lick it out.”
Justin turned his head just enough to meet his eyes.
Joey kissed him, harder this time, hungrier. Then dropped to his knees behind him, hands already pulling the thong down, eyes locked on his pussy like it was the only thing in the world.
“I’m gonna eat it, baby,” he said. “Gonna eat your pussy real slow.”
And then he did.
