It happened one evening, long after dinner, when the air between them had settled into something unspoken but charged. Noah was curled up on the couch, his legs tucked beneath him, wearing one of Adam’s sweatshirts—oversized, soft, the sleeves falling far past his wrists, and his briefs. It made him look smaller somehow, almost swallowed by the fabric.
Adam had been watching him for a while, his expression unreadable, his gaze steady. Then, without a word, he reached behind him, retrieving a small, unmarked box from where it had been waiting. He turned it over once in his hands, considering, before resting it gently on Noah’s lap.
Noah looked down at it, then up at Adam, hesitation flickering in his eyes.
“What is this?”
Adam’s voice was calm, even, watching him carefully.
“A gift. Open it.”
Noah hesitated before lifting the lid. Inside, nestled against plain tissue paper, was a delicate black lace thong—neatly folded. Noah didn’t move.
“You… bought this?”
Adam nodded.
“For you.”
Noah couldn’t seem to look away from the box. His pulse was pounding now, pressing against his ribs, his skin burning.
Adam reached forward, tipping Noah’s chin up with two fingers until their eyes met. His touch was light, but firm—just enough to make sure Noah didn’t look away.
“Put it on,” Adam said softly.
Noah’s stomach tightened at the quiet authority in his voice. He swallowed.
“Now?”
Adam nodded.
“Now.”
Noah exhaled sharply, looking toward the bedroom, but then realization settled deep in his chest. Adam wanted him to do it here. In front of him.
“You’re watching me,” Noah said, barely above a whisper.
Adam didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
Slowly, deliberately, he stood. His knees felt weak, but he did it. Adam leaned back slightly against the couch, his gaze never straying, watching each movement with quiet patience.
Noah pulled his sweatshirt over his head in one slow motion, leaving him in just his briefs. The air felt cooler against his skin, sharpening his awareness. He stood there for a moment, caught between hesitation and inevitability, his hands lingering at his waistband.
“You’re really making me do this,” he murmured.
Adam’s voice was steady. “I’m asking.”
Noah inhaled deeply, then pushed his briefs down, stepping out of them. He took the thong carefully, his fingers brushing over the lace. He swallowed hard. His heart was pounding as he stepped into it, threading his feet through carefully, the lace whispering against his skin.
As he pulled it up, the first thing he noticed was how thin the waistband was. A fragile band of lace that barely sat above his hips, resting lightly his pelvis. The front cupped him but did nothing to hide him. There was no pouch, but it was obvious in this thong that he didn’t need one. His small size was clear. Just a delicate outline pressing against the fabric, as if the thong was only there to highlight how small he was, rather than conceal it.
In the back, the thong disappeared almost entirely. A single strip of lace, wedged high, vanishing between his muscly cheeks, leaving everything shaped, emphasized. His bubble butt was suddenly even more noticeable. The lace framed it instead of covering it, and somehow, that made it feel even bigger. He inhaled sharply, his skin prickling.
This was how it was supposed to fit. This was how Adam wanted to see him. Noah swallowed, his throat dry. Why did he care so much about what Adam wanted? Why did it make him so incredibly horny to care so much?
Adam reached out, his fingers brushing lightly along Noah’s hip, tracing the lace where it sat against his skin. Noah shivered.
“You’re pretty,” Adam murmured, his voice quiet, certain.
Noah’s breath stuttered. His knees felt weak, his body hyper-aware of how he looked, how he felt. Adam’s thumb hooked under the waistband, tugging lightly, testing.
“Go put on the skirt.”
Noah looked up at Adam. “You want me to?”
Adam nodded. “I do.”
Noah swallowed, nodding once, then turned toward the bedroom. As he stepped away, the lace clung to him in a way he wasn’t used to yet. Adam watched him go, his gaze dark.
When Noah reappeared, the skirt swayed softly around his thighs, the lace barely concealed beneath. He didn’t speak right away. Neither did Adam.
Then, slowly, Noah walked over, standing in front of Adam, chin slightly lifted—not defiant, not hesitant, just… waiting. He met Adam’s gaze. His voice was quiet.
“Do you like it?”
For a second, Adam was caught off guard. Noah in just the skirt, knowing that under it was just that black lacy thong, his nipples all pink and perky, looking up at him like that.
It was that feeling again, his cock ballooning out to his full size in seconds, the blood rush hit him hard.
Adam stood one more moment, then, stepping close, his fingers lifted the back of the skirt, revealing that ass in the thong.
“Yes,” Adam said, simple and certain.
Noah met his eyes and didn’t look away.
“Pretty,” Adam murmured. The word settled low in Noah’s stomach, warm, grounding, undeniable.
He should feel embarrassed, standing in front of Adam like this, but he didn’t. Instead, he felt exposed in a way that made him feel so alive. This new idea that maybe, just maybe, Adam wanted exactly the same things as Noah, filled him full to bursting. He felt his small balls ache.
Then, Adam’s eyes dropped lower—not to the skirt this time, but just beneath it. His expression shifted. Noah followed his gaze, and he knew immediately what Adam was seeing.
Fine, blond hair surrounded his small cocklet, just visible through the lace of the thong. The hairs had caught on the lace when he slipped it on and it had felt wrong then.
Adam reached down and gently pulled the thong lower and rubbed his thumb across Noah’s thin, blond pubic hair.
“Turn around.”
Noah did, arching his back automatically. One of Adam’s hands sat on Noah’s waist, while the other slipped into Noah’s cheeks and pulled the thong string out and to the side.
Adam’s hands firmly spread Noah’s cheeks and felt the soft ring of hair that circled his ring. Adam slipped the thong back into place and looked at Noah.
“You see it too, don’t you?” Adam’s voice was soft, without teasing.
Noah swallowed hard and nodded, the heat in his face deepening. Adam’s thumbs pressed into his waist, a slow, grounding touch. His expression remained calm, unhurried.
“Let me take care of it.”
Adam led him to the bathroom. The air smelled like steam and soap, the overhead light casting soft shadows over the tiled walls. Noah was aware of the cool tile beneath his feet, the hum of the water running as Adam prepared a warm towel, the soft rustle of movement as he reached for a razor and a bottle of shaving cream.
Adam knelt in front of him. Noah’s fingers curled into tight fists at his sides. He got all hot. Why was this part so hard?
Adam lifted the skirt.
“Here.” Adam pressed a palm against Noah’s stomach, gentle but firm. “Hold this up.”
Noah gripped the edge of the skirt, keeping it lifted so Adam could see everything. Adam’s hands brushed over Noah’s thighs before he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the thong, pulled it down, all the way off. Adam folded it gently and put it aside.
Adam gently smoothed shaving cream over the fine hair just above Noah’s cocklet, spreading it around the base on his balls. The sensation was cool and unfamiliar, sending a shiver through Noah’s body.
His breath shuddered as the razor glided over his skin—slow, precise. Adam’s other hand steadied his hip, holding him still. The sound of the blade, the soft rasp of Adam’s breath—it was too much.
Adam wiped the area clean, his hands lingering for a moment too long, his fingers tracing over the now soft, bare skin. He didn’t move right away.
Without the faint shadow of hair, Noah looked so smooth, so pink, holding up his little skirt. Adam’s fingers rested on Noah’s smooth mound, thumbs tracing slow, deliberate circles into the fresh, bare skin. This part he loved for some reason.
“You’re so…”
Noah swallowed hard, breath caught in his throat. Adam’s hands gently turned Noah around, adjusting him softly so that he was bent over. He parted Noah’s bubbly muscle cheeks and quickly shaved off the hair down there.
He leaned in and gently kissed the smooth, sensitive hole. Noah shivered. A subtle shift of his hands. The quiet rasp of fabric as he adjusted the waistband of the thong back into place. The lace slid effortlessly over freshly shaven skin, catching slightly before settling against him, snug and final.
Adam smoothed his hands over Noah’s hips again, fingers grazing over the lace as if testing the way it fit now, how different it looked against him.
“There,” he murmured, voice deep, satisfied. "You're exactly how you're meant to be."
Adam stood, slow and deliberate, his presence looming close, warm, solid. Noah kept his eyes down, his pulse hammering.
“Go look at yourself.”
Noah stepped toward the mirror and stared at his reflection. Adam stood behind him. The mirror showed everything.
Adam moved. Slow. Intentional. Deliberate. His hands traced down Noah’s sides, settling at his waist. He gripped the hem of the skirt and lifted it. Noah’s breath caught, his stomach tightening. Adam didn’t hesitate.
The lace thong sat snug against him, and with everything gone, it left him completely visible, completely open. Adam exhaled. A quiet, satisfied sound. Noah wanted to flinch. Wanted to lower his eyes. But Adam didn’t let him. Instead, his hand slid to Noah’s stomach, fingers splayed wide, warm against his bare skin.
“You don’t need it,” Adam said, voice low, steady, absolute.
Noah swallowed, his pulse pounding. Adam’s other hand grabbed Noah’s behind his back and pushed it into his pants, his briefs. Adam still had it. A thick trail of coarse hair, a mark of what he was. A mark Noah no longer had. Noah trembled.
“Grab it. Hold on to it.”
Noah instinctively let his fingers slide through the full bush and grab a handful, gently. Adam’s grip on his waist tightened, grounding him.
“You don’t need it because you’re not like me,” Adam continued, his voice steady, heavy with something Noah wasn’t ready to name. “You don’t need it, because I have it. Because I’m the only one who should.”
Noah’s chest shuddered. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Adam’s eyes met his in the mirror. Unwavering. Certain.
“Say it.”
Noah’s throat went tight. He couldn’t. Adam’s grip didn’t waver. Then, finally—soft, unsteady, inevitable—Noah whispered:
“I don’t need it.”
Adam pressed against his back, his hard cock pushing into him, just enough to feel it. Just enough to make Noah understand.
“Why?” Adam asked.
Noah’s lips parted, but nothing came out. His body was trembling, his thoughts spinning. Adam’s fingers tightened slightly at his waist.
“Say it.”
Noah’s breath shuddered. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, forcing himself to meet Adam’s gaze in the mirror.
“Because you have it,” he whispered.
Adam’s hand skimmed back down, smoothing over Noah’s newly bare skin. A satisfied sound rumbled low in his throat.
“Good,” he murmured. “Good girl.”
Then he let the skirt fall, silk whispering back into place, concealing what had already been decided. He left Noah in the mirror and disappeared in the other room. Noah felt paralyzed.
Did Adam just say that? Good girl?
Noah’s lips hover just above the head of Adam’s penis, breath warm and steady, his body humming with something deep and instinctual. He presses his lips to the flushed tip, an almost imperceptible movement, tentative but sure. A slow exhale from Adam above him. His thighs tense slightly, a subtle shift, but he doesn’t move.
Encouraged, Noah parts his lips and kisses Adam again, this time firmer, a lingering press of mouth against sensitive skin. The moment is reverent, filled with something deeper than touch. A shiver runs down his spine as he tilts his head, pressing his tongue softly against the underside, tracing the smooth, sensitive flesh.
He opens his mouth slightly wider, letting the head rest against his tongue, savoring the weight, the heat. Above him, Adam finally moves—just a hand, one strong, grounding palm cupping the back of Noah’s head, fingers threading gently through his hair. There’s no pressure, only presence.
Noah sinks lower, taking him in inch by inch, lips stretching around the solid thickness, the warmth of Adam’s penis flooding his senses. He wants to feel everything: Adam’s bone against his tongue, the heat pooling low in his own belly, the quiet, restrained tension in Adam’s stance.
Adam’s voice is deep, hushed, barely more than a whisper.
“That’s it, be a good girl.”
He hollows his cheeks slightly, letting his tongue glide along every ridge and vein, his hands bracing against Adam’s hips. Noah moves slowly, learning him, savoring him, feeling his own body react in ways that make his skin prickle with awareness.
Adam’s hand tightens ever so slightly in his hair, still not pushing, just feeling. A low groan escapes him, the first real break in his restraint. Noah loves that sound.
Noah pulls back slightly, letting his lips drag slowly over the length of him before pressing another kiss to the tip, then another. His voice is quiet, breathless when he finally speaks.
“I love your penis, Adam.”
Adam looks down at him, his chest rising and falling, dark eyes burning. Then, softly, possessively, with something like reverence in his voice, he murmurs,
“You’re a good girl.”
Noah pulls back briefly, pressing slow, lingering kisses on the big head, savoring the taste of salt and skin. His tongue flicks against the slit, testing, teasing, feeling the way Adam’s breath stutters, his hand tightening ever so slightly in Noah’s hair.
And then he takes him deeper, lips parting, throat softening, letting Adam in. Adam curses softly under his breath, his body tensing for the first time. His control is slipping.
The thought makes something thrill through Noah, sharp and intoxicating. He hollows his cheeks, taking more, letting himself be claimed in this way, completely, without hesitation.
The room is silent but for the quiet, slick sounds of Noah’s mouth, the soft, barely-restrained sounds Adam makes, and the rhythm of his deep, controlled breathing.
Noah’s hands slide from Adam’s hips to his thighs, fingertips pressing into the hard muscle, holding on as he moves faster, needier, hungrier.
“Noah—”
Adam’s hand slides from Noah’s hair to his jaw, his thumb brushing against Noah’s cheek, his eyes dark, intense.
“Don’t stop,” he murmurs. “Take all of it.”
Noah’s hands grip tighter, his movements more insistent. He can feel the tension in Adam’s thighs, the way his breathing has gone ragged, uneven.
And then—
Adam sprays his sperm into Noah’s mouth, down his throat, his body taut, the heat of it thick and sudden, pooling in Noah’s tongue and cheeks in deep pulses. His sperm sprays in strong ropes that keep coming. It’s so much sperm.
Noah doesn’t pull away. He stays, swallows, takes all of it, like Adam asked, like he wanted, like he needed. Adam’s hand tightens against Noah’s jaw for a moment before softening, his thumb stroking slow, deliberate circles against his skin.
Noah finally pulls back, his breath shallow, his lips slick and slightly swollen, his chest rising and falling in quiet, heady waves. He licks his lips without thinking, his body still thrumming from the sheer intimacy of it.
Adam looks down at him, his dark eyes unreadable, his chest still rising and falling with the aftershocks. He doesn’t move for a long moment.
Then, slowly, he crouches down in front of Noah, bringing their faces level. His hands cup Noah’s jaw, thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones, his expression unreadable but devastatingly intense.
“Good girl.”
Later, they are still in bed, the world outside faded to nothing. Adam is naked, Noah still in his skirt and thong. Adam’s hands roam slowly,, palms warm as they curve over Noah’s full, rounded butt cheeks. He squeezes lightly, fingertips pressing into the plush flesh of his globes, feeling the shape, the weight, the give beneath his touch.
“You’re so soft here,” Adam murmurs, his lips brushing the nape of Noah’s neck. “So perfect.”
Noah exhales, melting further against Adam’s chest. Adam shifts slightly, his cock thick and warm, nestled in the valley of Noah’s cheeks.
"I could hold you like this forever."
Adam’s fingers keep moving, kneading, spreading, exploring. He palms the plush curves, squeezing, appreciating every inch of Noah’s generous bubble. His breath deepens as Noah whimpers, the little noises slipping free without hesitation, without restraint.
"You like that?" Adam murmurs, his voice deep and rich, a low vibration against the nape of Noah’s neck. Noah nods, but it’s not enough. Adam wants the words.
His hand slides lower, fingers parting the full, smooth mounds, seeking more, exploring between them. And then—
There. Noah’s soft, smooth hole.
Adam finds it waiting, puffy and hungry. His fingertips skim over the warm, pink skin, featherlight, tickling, teasing, feeling the way Noah’s breath stutters in response.
"Mmm," Adam hums, fascinated, his strokes slow, deliberate. “So smooth.”
Noah gasps, his body pressing back into Adam’s touch without thinking, without hesitation. Adam chuckles softly, his thumb grazing gently over the sensitive flesh. He feels Noah tremble in his arms, feels the way his body reacts so instinctively.
“You feel that, baby girl?” Adam murmurs, his voice a steady, grounding presence. “How soft you are here?”
Noah makes a small, desperate noise, a high-pitched whimper that makes Adam throb against him. Adam’s free hand grips Noah’s hip, steadying him. He leans in, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against the side of Noah’s neck.
"I love feeling you like this," Adam breathes. "All smooth. All bare. Just for me."
Adam’s fingers keep moving, soft and teasing, barely skimming over Noah’s smooth, untouched hole, just enough to make Noah shudder, his body taut with sensation. Each stroke sends a ripple of awareness through him, making his thighs twitch, making his breath catch in his throat.
Adam smirks against Noah’s neck, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his flushed skin.
“Do you know what this is called?” Adam whispers.
Noah’s breath stutters, his lips parting, but no words come.
Adam smiles against his ear.
“It’s a pussy.”
Noah gasps, his whole body tensing for a moment, but Adam doesn’t stop. Another slow, soft tickle.
“Say it.”
Noah’s voice catches, trembling as he exhales. “P-pussy.”
Adam hums in approval, fingers stroking just a little slower, a little more deliberately.
“Again.”
Noah swallows hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “Pussy.”
Adam presses a kiss behind Noah’s ear, his fingers tracing the same slow, teasing pattern.
“One more time, baby girl.”
Noah shudders, a broken little sound slipping from his lips. “Pussy.”
Adam groans softly, his boner pressing thick and heavy against Noah’s back.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice rich with approval.
“That’s right. This is your pussy.”
Adam’s fingers trace slow circles, never pressing too hard, never pushing Noah further than he’s ready for—but making sure he feels everything.
“Feels good when I touch your pussy?”
Noah gasps, his whole body tightening.
“Say it, baby.”
“It… feels good when you touch my pussy,” he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.
Adam’s cock twitches hard against Noah’s back, and he groans, his hands tightening around him.
“Fuck.”
He kisses Noah’s neck, open-mouthed and slow, his body pressing close, surrounding him, claiming him. Adam's hand glides up Noah’s side, strong and steady, fingers tracing reverent lines over his soft, smooth skin. His other hand remains between Noah’s plush cheeks, fingers gently parting them, teasing his warm, waiting hole.
“You’re ready for me,” Adam murmurs, voice thick, his lips brushing the shell of Noah’s ear.
Noah nods frantically, hips shifting, his breath coming in soft, desperate gasps. “Please,” he whispers.
Adam groans, his cock thick and heavy, pressed against Noah’s warm, waiting skin.
“Say it.” His voice is low, demanding, but still tender.
Noah shivers, his fingers gripping the pillow beneath his head. “Please, Adam… I want you inside me.”
Adam kisses the nape of Noah’s neck, open-mouthed and deep, before shifting his weight, pressing Noah into the mattress, holding him exactly where he wants him.
“Where do you want me, baby?”
Noah pauses.
“I want you in my pussy, Adam.”
“Yeah? What do you want there, baby girl?
“I want your big fat penis in my pussy, Adam.
Adam stares at Noah, his boner straining, needing, ready. He can’t believe how lucky he is in that moment to have the most beautiful place to put it.
Adam gently guides Noah onto all fours. Adam stands behind him, on his knees, the head of his cock gently kissing Noah’s soft lips. Adam nudges, teases, coating Noah in the slick warmth flowing from his boner.
Noah whimpers, his body clenching around nothing, his legs spreading just a little wider, silently begging. Adam smiles against Noah’s skin.
“My girl,” he whispers, pushing in slowly, deliberately, letting Noah feel every inch.
Noah gasps, his body arching, stretching, accepting. The fullness, the heat, the sheer size of Adam inside him—it’s overwhelming, and so, so right.
Adam groans, gripping Noah’s hip with one hand, his other sliding up to tangle in Noah’s hair. He buries himself to the hilt, claiming him completely.
“Does it hurt, Noah? Does my penis hurt inside your pussy?”
Noah tries to talk, wants to answer. Adam waits. Noah lets out a cry, impaled wearing nothing but his skirt, his thong string pulled to the side. He whispers.
“Yes.”
Adam’s breath catches. He flexes his boner deep inside Noah’s hole. Noah whimpers and lets out a yelp. Adam speaks, reassuringly.
“It’s just better to accept that this is part of it. That if you want me, there’s a part of it that hurts.”
Adam flexes again, Noah yelps and whimpers. Adam knows that if he moves, it will hurt less and the pleasure will come quicker. But it’s important to Adam that Noah understands what it feels like to have a pussy that takes a cock like this.
“Say it baby. If you want the penis, you want the pain.”
Noah is paralyzed, hypnotized. He doesn’t know where the words come from but he says it.
“I want your penis, Adam. I want the pain.”
Adam pushes deeper. Noah yelps loud.
Then Adam moves. Deep. Unhurried. A slow, aching stretch that makes Noah moan, makes his whole body quiver beneath Adam’s touch. Adam keeps his pace measured, steady, deliberate, like he’s etching himself into Noah’s body, into his bones.
Noah whimpers, pressing back into Adam, his own movements instinctive, seeking. Adam’s thrusts deepen, his grip tightens, his breath ragged against Noah’s shoulder. He’s losing himself in this, in him. Noah, his girl. Noah, his.
The rhythm builds, a quiet crescendo of need and belonging, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Noah is lost in sensation, in warmth, in the slow, inevitable pull toward something greater than both of them. Adam feels it too—that moment, that edge, the point where control blurs into something deeper, something final. His fingers tighten in Noah’s hair, his cock buried deep, his voice breaking as he gasps,
“I’m going to fill you up. Are you gonna be a good girl and take it all?”
Noah’s moan is wordless, but his body says everything. He wants it. He needs it.
“I’m gonna take it all like a good girl.”
That sends Adam over the edge, and he shoots deep inside him, marking him in a way that can’t be undone, Noah shudders, gasping, accepting all of him.
As they lay together, Noah still in his skirt and thong, Adam naked behind him, his hands never leaving Noah’s warm, well-shaped cheeks, he murmured,
“Stay like this for me.”
Adam’s hands spread his cheeks again, and Noah felt something new—Adam’s fingertips tracing where his hole still quivered, still filled with the heat of Adam’s sperm.
“You’re holding it so well,” Adam said, voice low, approving. He pressed a thumb lightly against the soft, slick hole, teasing just enough to make Noah whimper. Adam felt the way Noah clenched instinctively, his body still sensitive.
“But I want to keep it inside you longer.”
A moment later, Noah felt Adam shift behind him. The rustle of a drawer opening. The click of something small, smooth. When Adam returned, he nudged Noah to spread his legs slightly, guiding him with sure, steady hands.
“I have something for you,” Adam said, pressing the cool shape of a plug against Noah’s palm. It was small, meant to ease, not stretch—elegant, designed for someone just beginning. Noah ran his fingers over it, a nervous little thrill shivering through his belly.
Adam kissed the back of his neck.
“You’ll wear this for me.” A pause, then lower, more intimate”
Noah swallowed, his breath coming quicker, but he nodded. His body was still pliant, open, willing. Adam took it from him, slicked it in warm oil, then traced Noah’s hole again, his touch insistent.
“Relax. Breathe.”
Noah exhaled shakily as Adam guided the tip inside, the coolness of the plug making him shiver. But Adam was patient, his hand firm on Noah’s hip, his voice a steady anchor.
Slowly, he pressed it deeper, filling Noah until the base settled snug between his cheeks. A soft moan escaped Noah’s lips. The fullness was different—smaller than Adam, but present. A constant reminder.
Adam ran his hands over Noah’s hips, his thighs, his stomach, grounding him.
“Good girl,” he murmured, stroking him gently. “How does your pussy feel?”
Noah, still breathless, pressed back against Adam’s warmth. “It feels… good.”
Adam kissed his shoulder.
“You’ll stay like this for me tonight.” He traced his fingers along the base of the plug, making Noah shudder.
“Every time you move, you’ll feel it. You’ll remember what we did. That I filled your pussy up. That I’m still inside you.”
Noah let out a soft, needy whimper, turning his head slightly to bury his face against Adam’s arm.
Adam smiled against Noah’s skin. “That’s my girl.”
“I feel…” Noah whispered, struggling to put it into words.
He had just realized that he came, there was a slick feeling down there. He hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t touched himself.
Adam hummed, his voice indulgent.
“Tell me.”
Noah swallowed.
“I feel… good.” His voice was barely audible.
