Holden Valentine finds a notebook and finally has an orgasm
Holden masturbates like any other virile young man, but he only does it with his eyes closed. Even though his imagination has always been vivid, his ability to conjure explicit and detailed thoughts only started to occur after he graduated high school. He was in the process of becoming a man. His athletic, lean body was reaching its most desirable years, and he could feel it. He would swoon over the muscular chests and shoulders of his swim team; he would close his eyes and he could transport himself to the showers, the smell of chlorine and soap filling the air. His teammates walking in from the pool, pulling off their maroon speedos, and joining him naked in the communal shower. He had seen their bodies every year for four years. He knew who was circumcised and who wasn’t, who has packing, and who had the biggest balls. But in his imagination everyone became shinier, better, more appealing, and more mesmerizing. The pheromones in sweat became stronger. The increased sexual tension made everyone want to fuck Holden.
His phone buzzes and his eyes open.
“Hello?,” he says, as he gets out of bed. He’s only half hard now. “Sure, I can come in early tomorrow - it’s just an ordinary day after all. No, don’t feel sorry or anything. I’ll see you in the morning.” He hangs up and looks at his naked body in the mirror.
“I look alright, don’t I?” There’s no one else in the room.
“There’s gotta be at least one guy on the swim team who wants to get with me. It’s probably Rich. He always fucks me in my dream, anyway.”
He puts a hand through his brown hair and looks into the mirror again. He knows that other people admire his body. They aren’t wrong. Swimmer’s body - check. Boyish grin and perfect bone structure - check. Stubble, but with a smooth body - check. Fuckable ass and 7-inch dick that never disappoints - check.
Despite his good looks, Holden isn’t cocky. He was just as happy on the science team as on the swim team. He made a great student body president. It just so happens that he is also tall and beautiful.
Holden has been sexually frustrated for the past three year, ever since he went off to college. Although there are just as many dicks in frat row as there are in gay clubs, nothing beats his imagination. If he wants to lie down on some stranger’s pull-out sofa and be face-fucked by a long uncut cock until it shoots all over his face, then he thinks it up. If he wants to invite over his neighbor, seduce him, make him strip, and ride his dick while listening to how much he prefers pussy, then he thinks it up. There just isn’t any motivation left to leave his apartment, go out into the world, and go through the motions of hooking up.
Holden does miss having a dick in his mouth, though. A vibrating dildo can only be a replacement for cock for so long before it becomes uneventful.
He grabs a book from the shelf on his dresser and goes back to bed. ‘This will be the second week in a row that I can’t get off,’ he thinks. The book that he pulls from the shelf is actually a notebook, one that he and his older brother compiled when they were kids.
Holden and Lucas both had overactive imaginations. They would think up jokes - unfortunate events, they’d say - and write them in the book. Little things. They wanted her to break an expensive toy so that she would get in trouble. They wanted her to pack a disgusting lunch - half tuna sandwich, half peanut butter and jelly - and embarrass herself on the playground around the other nannies. Each time they wrote an unfortunate event, it would happen within a few days. Once believed to be a series of coincidences, Holden and Lucas came to believe that they were different in some way - they just didn’t know how.
As Holden and Lucas entered into their pre-teen and then teenage years, they lost track of the games they used to play. They didn’t have a nanny, or really anyone to beleaguer, and their attention turned to more social concerns.
Holden carries this notebook around with him for sentimental reasons - he hasn’t seen his brother in over three years - but also because he feels something for it. Or he feels something coming from it. He can’t tell what it is, but it makes him feel strong and it calms him down.
He has to be at his internship at the hotel in the morning - early, even - but with the notebook by his side, he begins to drift off. Blood is rushing back to his penis.
It always starts with the smell of sweat. It switches on his mind and brings his cock to full attention. This dream is different. It isn’t about the swim team gangbang. There’s no scent of chlorine, it’s just sweat. And this dream isn’t in order. There’s no detail. He catches snippets every so often. A mirror. Steam. The thick head of a big dick sliding into his ass. Veins coursing through a strong, muscular arm. A thick beard. A jock strap. His knees tremble. He has to be quiet or someone else will hear. A hot load.
Holden wakes up with the feeling of wanting to rip through concrete just to prove his strength. He’s covered in sweat. His sheets are sticky with a two-week supply of cum. He feels relieved - still horny, though. Although he doesn’t know who was in the dream, he remembers everything. He has never wanted so badly a guy with a thick beard and the fattest dickhead he’s ever seen.
He reaches over to his bedside table and pulls out the vibrating dildo. Just as he decides to slip it in and close his eyes, he catches the time on his phone. It’s 5:45 and he has to be at work at 6:30. He puts away the dildo and takes a shower. He’ll have plenty to dream about tomorrow.
Paul comes in the shower while Holden saves his load
“Morning, Amy, did you just finish the graveyard shift?”
“Oh, yeah. Room 902 had a really good time. I saw five girls come in and out during the night. They were pretty. I’d probably fuck them, but still. How was your night? “
“No comment. I mean, there wasn’t a night. I didn’t do anything special.”
“You walked around the house in your underwear, didn’t you? Why do guys like doing that so much?”
“I was naked some of the time. It’s nice. It feels nice, you should try it.”
“By the way,” Holden adds, “I’m on gym duty this morning. I will be the peppy youngster behind the counter taking everyone’s room number, asking them to please sign in, and giving them towels and water. And I’ll try to learn as much about the industry as possible. Thanks, internship.”
“Gym duty isn’t even so bad,” Amy retorts. “And anyway, this is my job, not just an internship. You’re leaving at the end of the summer and I will still be here. I’m on gym duty with you. I’m doing a double shift.”
“You serious? How many red bulls have you had this morning?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again. Now get your pretty little ass into your uniform and meet me there. I guarantee there’s already a line.”
Holden doesn’t have a preference for what he does at the hotel. He’s been there nearly two months and all he’s done is sit at the front desk in the gym, or sit at the front desk in the lobby. He smiles at people as they walk by, as they live their lives around him. He’s a pretty face in a pretty hotel. He’s in the best shape of most of the male employees here, so he gets stuck with the gym a little more often. It’s not so bad. In addition to smiling at the front desk, he walks around and cleans the machines. He refills the water tank. And every hour, starting at 6:30, he cleans the locker room.
Holden notices that the clock reads 7:30, so he gets together his bag of supplies and heads out into the hallway to the locker room. There’s no one inside but Holden hears one of the showers running; he can tell someone is in there by how the water hits the floor in uneven drops.
He takes a lap around the locker room and assesses the mess. Several water- and sweat-soaked red towels hang around the laundry basket; there are a few more on the floor and on the benches. The small waste basket beneath the sinks is overflowing with plastic water bottles. There’s an overall stench of testosterone and cologne. As he cleans, Holden catches his reflection in a mirror. He stops, flexes his arm and lifts up his shirt enough to see his smooth and defined abs. “Even in this harsh light,” he thinks, “I still look good. I’d fuck me.” The shower turns off. Holden drops his shirt and briefly wonders if anyone had been secretly watching.
From the shower walks Paul, whom Holden recognizes instantly. Paul is the Australian who is in town for business. Holden checked him in at the front desk - Room 872. Every morning that Holden sits at the front desk, Paul walks by and says hello. He is always wearing a gray suit, jacket in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. At the gym, Paul wears black loose-fitting Adidas pants and a salmon tank top.
Holden can’t keep from staring as Paul walks from the showers to the lockers in a towel that is hanging precariously low, exposing the top portion of his pubic hair and showcasing the incredible V-shaped cut in his lower abs. Paul has a hairy chest and a thick happy trail that runs between his defined ab muscles. He has broad, muscular shoulders. His head is shaved short but he has a thick, groomed beard. He has deep-set brown eyes and ears that are asking to be licked.
After a few seconds of staring, Holden knows that he’s being too conspicuous. He briefly catches Paul’s eye before averting his gaze completely. He hears Paul’s towel drop to the ground and is momentarily upset by his cowardice. He thinks, “What would have happened if I didn’t look away? Would he have dropped his towel for me? Would I have said anything or showed any kind of emotion? Did he want me to see?”
A few minutes pass as Holden continues to clean the locker room and as Paul dries himself and puts together his gym bag. Finished for now, Holden wonders if he should just go back to the gym desk and resume his shift or if he should linger for a moment longer, just to see what may happen. He walks through the locker room once more to check out his work, among other things.
Paul is front of the one large mirror. He’s shirtless, but he’s wearing his black Adidas gym pants, which are pulled down enough to emphasize his V-line and the fact that he definitely isn’t wearing underwear - and Holden can see a bulge in the reflection. He’s holding up his phone and taking pictures. He seems pretty happy with the results but notices Holden nearby.
“Hey, mate,” he says.
“Hi. How’s it going?”
“Was wondering if you’d mind snapping a couple of photos of me? I’m trying to track my progress and want a nice one with me flexing. And you know how you get over a workout.”
“Sure. I’ll just come over there and--.” Holden walks over and takes the phone from Paul. He notices the veins in Paul’s thick arms. He smells the sweat coming off of Paul’s tank top and gym pants. His mind lights up in excitement and his cock pumps.
Holden snaps a couple of photos, becoming more excited as he looks from Paul to the photo of Paul and then back to Paul in person.
“How’s it looking?,” asks Paul. “Let me know if I should move anywhere.”
“It looks great. You’re in great shape. I wish I looked like that. Let me know if they’re okay.” He hands the phone back to Paul.
“They’re okay, mate.” Paul puts his phone away in his gym bag. “Listen, I saw you looking earlier, after I got out of the shower.”
Holden isn’t sure what to say; so he says nothing. He tries to look away, even though he’s standing directly in front of Paul and can see the look on his face. Holden can also see Paul gently tugging at his gym pants; they are pulled down slightly more than before and the bulge inside is clearly larger.
Paul tugs at his gym pants, slowly, but each time exposing more and more of himself. When his pubic hair is fully showing and his dick is just being revealed, he stops and says, “Pull it out.”
Holden sticks his right hand into Paul’s pants and grabs onto his dick. It’s thick and strong, like the rest of Paul. He pulls down Paul’s pants enough for his big dick and tight balls to be out. Paul rests a hand on Holden’s shoulder and pushes him slowly down.
On the way down, Holden wishes he could take a picture. He tries to remember everything. The small green and white tiles that line the wall behind the sinks, the waste basket a few feet behind Paul’s hard body. The scent of sweat that was coming from Paul’s gym clothes but is now coming from him, sweat beading from his hairy chest and trickling down his happy trail to get lost in his pubic hair. His hard, cut, 8-inch dick is thrusting outward.
Holden grabs Paul’s dick at the base and opens his mouth. He takes the thicker head into his mouth and stares up to Paul, whose eyes are closed. He’s licking his top lip.
“Your clothes. Take them off,” he then demands. “I want you naked while you’re sucking my cock. And let me have one picture of you,” he adds before motioning to Holden to stand up and take off his clothes. “I’ll get my phone.”
Holden has never been shy about his body, or his looks. Always toeing the line between academic and athlete, he comes across as a deep thinker with smoldering good looks. He keeps enough five-o-clock shadow to smudge his boyish face, but he keeps his hair the same as when he was a kid. Short on the sides with a part to the left. No product. Natural and masculine, yet soft. His lips are perfect for sucking dick. He notices Paul looking at them as he grabs for the phone in his bag. To be sure, he bites his bottom lip and then pushes both lips together. Paul’s cock twitches.
Years of swimming has built up Holden’s upper body. He has broad shoulders - almost as broad as Paul’s - but he isn’t as muscular as Paul. Like his face, his body is refined and youthful. Elegant almost. His legs are long and defined, like a dancer’s body.
On this particular day he is wearing his uniform, a white short-sleeve polo shirt with the red hotel logo and khaki pants. No undershirt. A pair of white briefs that accentuate his tan and his lean body. As he undresses, he feels the attention that Paul is giving to him. His body feels hot as Paul takes his picture. In the mirror’s reflection, he sees both Paul and himself, together. Benches and lockers behind them, showers beyond that.
“Don’t touch your dick unless I tell you to,” Paul interjects just as Holden is moving his hand down his stomach and into his underwear. “Now get back to my dick.”
Holden is glad that Paul is so assertive. He could never tell someone to suck his dick. He could never see someone in the locker room and charm them into having sex with him. He puts those thoughts out of his mind as he puts his mouth next to Paul’s dick. Paul grabs it, jerks it a few times and then slaps it onto Holden’s tongue. He puts his hand on the back of Holden’s head and forces him onto his dick. All the way in in one blow. Paul starts slowly pushing and pulling his dick into and out of Holden’s mouth. Meanwhile, Holden is holding onto Paul’s thigh with one hand, and moving his hand up Paul’s stomach, feeling the hair between his fingers and then muscles underneath that.
“You’re good at that, you know,” Paul says and he pulls his dick out of Holden’s mouth. “But that’s not all I want. Take off your underwear and put these on.” He hands Holden a jock strap from his bag - no doubt the one he had been using earlier that morning. “I want to see your ass, but I don’t want you touching your cock.”
Holden takes off his underwear, his cock dripping with precum. He puts on the jock strap, kicks his clothes into a pile near a bench, and then heads to the shower. Paul puts away his gym bag in a locker and then follows him.
Paul turns on the shower but keeps himself and Holden out of the spray. “It’s to cover up any sound you’ll be making in a few seconds,” he adds as he turns Holden around, presses him against the cold tile wall, and grabs his ass. “This is what you want, my dick rubbing between your smooth ass. You want this dick.”
Holden replies, “Yes,” just before Paul spits on his hand, rubs the tip of his dick, and slides it into his ass. “Slower, slower,” Holden whispers as he tries to keep his moans quieter than the shower water running next to them.
Holden wishes that Paul was fucking him next to the big mirror. All he can see is Paul’s faint reflection in the shower door, but it’s increasingly steamy from the hot water. He closes his eyes and imagines the droplets of water forming on Paul’s face, being thrown onto his back as Paul pounds into him. Sweat is forming in Paul’s chest, in his hairy armpits, running down his happy trail. Holden thinks of the veins in Paul’s arms, bulging every time Paul grabs onto his waist and pushes his dick in deep.
Holden wishes he could jerk off, but at least the jock strap feels good. He likes it whenever Paul pulls on the waist bands because it moves around his cock - but he wishes his cock were out and flopping backward and forward with the movement of Paul’s pounding.
Paul makes it very clear that he is fucking Holden and that Holden has no say in the matter. He does not listen when Holden begs him to keep fucking him in one particular way because it’s close to his prostate. He knows that Holden appreciates his thick dick inside of him, and he knows that Holden is attracted to his body. All he has to do is to keep fucking this beautiful boy until he cums wherever he wants.
The door to the locker room opens as Paul trembles; his dick explodes into Holden’s hole. He moans briefly above the sound of water before hushing himself. He gives Holden a few more pumps and then pulls out. He leaves Holden leaning against the wall and steps into the shower.
“You should go out first before someone sees only one shower running. But you don’t get to shower. Take my cum and go back to work. Oh, and leave my jockstrap on the bench before you go out. I’d like that back.”
Holden stands until the strength in his thighs come back and leaves the shower. He grabs a towel from the pile and heads back to his clothes. By this time, the guy who walked in has already undressed and is putting on his gym clothes. He doesn’t notice as Holden slides off the jock strap that is completely soaked in precum, sweat, and water, and tosses it to the floor in front of Paul’s locker. He towels off, puts on his underwear, shirt, and polo. He walks over the mirror to check that he’s somewhat presentable to go back to the front desk.
Paul walks out from the shower and gives him a wink. He’s not wearing any towel. He doesn’t need to flaunt his big dick or his nice body, but he doesn’t need to hide them either.
Holden refocuses. He walks out of the locker room and back to his desk. Amy is there. She asks what took so long. Holden says that the locker room was a little dirtier than he thought it’d be, that these early morning gym guys really make you put up with a lot.
He looks at the clock again and sees that it’s only 8:00. His day is just starting, and he doesn’t have to clean the locker room again until 10:00. Maybe he’ll be able to jerk off then. Paul’s smell is still over him. It’s going to be a long two hours.
Holden shoots his load and gets a late-night surprise
Holden reaches his apartment in the early evening. He walked home. It was breezy, a noticeable residue of sweat wafting across his face. He never showered after Paul fucked him in the locker room. He saved the smell and imagines of them together in the shower for when he could stretch out, get completely naked, and jerk off until he shot his load, which will be no doubt of epic proportions.
Holden didn’t eat anything all day. He wasn’t hungry. Instead of hunger, he felt satisfied for the entire day, like some primordial force had entered his body, fed him and made him strong. He feels renewed.
He slides off his pants and releases the aroma of sex from his underwear. He goes into the bathroom, turns around, and shows his ass to himself. He thinks about Paul’s fat mushroom head sliding into his ass. How it felt, his body opening up and letting in such power. The way it pressed against his prostate, how it grew thicker when Paul was about to cum, how Paul came when he was all the way in, and then pulled out in one quick motion. Holden was left wanting - needing - more.
Rubbing his body all over with one hand to collect every smell, he grabs his balls with the other. He passes his hand over his face, sniffs in fully, and then runs his hand through his hair and exhales.
His cock is fully erect, 7 inches, a nice girth, enough pubic hair to prove he’s not completely smooth. He still shaves it down, though.
It doesn’t take long for the precum to coat his hand. As he slides his hand up and down his shaft, he moans. His eyes are closed, and he’s next to Paul in the shower. Paul is standing under the water, a stream of water flowing through his chest hair and down his body. His dick is hard, but he’s not touching himself. He’s just watching Holden stroke.
Even though Holden doesn’t want to cum yet, it’s hard to hold it back. With his free hand, he reaches around to his ass, pulls apart his cheeks and inserts a finger. It’s wet - it’s Paul.
He strokes harder and harder, wishing he were getting fucked. Wishing he were gagging on Paul’s 8-inch dick, wishing he had cum with a dick in his ass, wishing Paul would have pulled out a few seconds before he was going to shoot and shoot instead in his mouth. Wishing that he could taste Paul one more time, wishing he could follow the vein in Paul’s arm to his shoulders. Wishing he could touch his neck and look into his eyes before he cums.
Holden’s climax - two-weeks in the making and following the hottest fuck he’s ever had - is sensational. Usually silent during an orgams, he moans the words, “Ohh fuck.”
His first pump carries his load all the way to the mirror, cum splashing onto the reflection of his chest, which is covered in a thin layer of sweat. He clenches his abs with the second pump and shoots on his actual chest. His mouth is open. The third pump sends a bit of cum to his bottom lip and chin. He licks it. His body relaxes. He releases the rest of his load onto the floor. In his mind, Paul starts to fade. First his torso, then his muscular chest and shoulders, and then his winking face and shaved head. Holden opens his eyes and looks at himself in the mirror. He can’t explain it, but he thinks that he looks different. Like something has changed. Like something has come alive within him.
He showers and cleans up the bathroom. He tosses his dirty clothes into the pile, heads to the kitchen, and forces himself to eat a light meal. He’s exhausted, in the best way. He opens a beer and sits on his bed. He turns on the TV. The notebook from the night before is next to him.
It’s open to a page he doesn’t remember from his childhood. He reads the first lines, though nothing he reads quite makes sense. It’s not fleshed out, like pieces of an idea that float together but don’t land in the correct place. At the same time, it’s familiar to him.
He needs to be dominated and yet reassured. Safety. Closeness.
He has a wide frame, is handsome, and is in control.
In the place where power is first consumed.
What he desires will come true.
He doesn’t remember writing those words, but they impress upon him as something important, something he needs to figure out. For now, he can only make the very loose connection between what he reads and what he experienced earlier that day. Paul was dominating, and he did make Holden feel safe, in good hands. Holden felt close to Paul in the shower. The sound of rushing water and water splattering on tile will forever calm him. Paul was impressively handsome, rugged almost. Holden thinks about the way Paul’s chest hair capture so much moisture. He wishes he could soak in sounds and scents and tastes like that chest hair. For a fraction of a section, Holden feels Paul’s dick pulse inside of him.
Holden cannot figure out the second two lines.
In the place where power is first consumed.
What he desires will come true.
Holden thinks aloud, “What power? Is power consumed? What was so powerful about today?” He paces around his bedroom, circling the bed and staring at the open notebook.
The last line is the most uncomfortable for Holden. He remembers how this notebook affected his relationship with his brother. They were close, but tied together by something they didn’t yet understand. This notebook is a reason why they drifted apart. As children they experienced something other-wordly. They saw too many words and thoughts come to life in front of them. As they grew they sought out reality, made friends with people who saw only what was in front of them, and eventually lost touch.
The unsettling feeling - the feeling that something was taken out of you and replaced by something more powerful but less you - that Holden experienced as a child suddenly rushes into him. He thinks that his desires from the previous night had come to him, and found him in the locker room. He can’t remember thinking of Paul in any sexual way until today.
He remembers the dream he had the night before. There’s no scent of chlorine, it’s just sweat. And this dream isn’t in order. There’s no detail. A mirror. Steam. The thick head of a big dick sliding into his ass. It was Paul. Still pacing, he says to himself, “Somehow the dream of Paul entered the book and then happened. But I didn’t write it. But that does look my handwriting, maybe. Oh this isn’t happening again...”
There’s a knock at the door. Holden jumps and quickly glances over the apartment to see if anything connected to the day’s event is lying around. He opens the door.
“Well. Hello there, brother. It’s been a while.” A devilishly handsome young man stands opposite Holden. He has a crisp jaw-line that supports a mustache and beard. His hair is longer than Holden’s, it’s wind-blown over his face. Despite the heat he’s wearing a blue coat with fur trim. It’s open. He’s not wearing a shirt. His long, lean torso is covered in a thin layer of soft, brown hair. He’s wearing dark jeans, his underwear peeking out above his thin black belt.
Somewhat shaken by the serendipitous nature of the day, Holden finally greets his brother. “Lucas. Yeah, it’s been a while.” And after another moment, he adds, “Come in.”
Lucas takes a quick tour around Holden’s apartment before throwing off his coat on the bed. He finds a beer in the refrigerator, opens it, and lounges on Holden’s bed.
“I didn’t even know you were in town. What are you doing in town?”
“It seems, my good brother, that I am moving back. I had to find you immediately and let you know that. I am moving back to the city.”
“When did you get here?”
“Just now, there, at your door. I am in the process of moving back. The process is starting right now.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I thought I’d stay here for a bit. Is that alright? It’s like I won’t even be here, I promise. I won’t be in your way and I’ll move out as soon as I find a place.”
The conversation stalls here. Holden doesn’t know what to say. This is the strangest day he’s had in a very long time. He finds the old notebook that he and Lucas used as children to make things happen, he somehow writes in the notebook, and then his desire is fulfilled in the locker room at the hotel. And now his brother is showing up out of nowhere. “I didn’t know where you were, Lucas. Where have you been?”
“I’ve been here and there, you know. I like change, new things, new opportunities. Like you, look at you! You look great - handsome still, in top shape. You’re working, I hear, and school is going well. Your life is on the up and up.” He notices the notebook on the bed.
He needs to be dominated and yet reassured. Safety. Closeness.
He has a wide frame, is handsome, and is in control.
In the place where power is first consumed.
What he desires will come true.
“What’s this?,” Lucas asks. “Is this the latest entry?” He flips through the pages. “Is this the first entry?!” He repositions himself on the bed so that he is leaning against the wall. He puts one arm behind his head and plays at the hair on this sculpted stomach. He laughs softly and smiles at Holden. “Then I’ve come at a very special time. You know, no one was there my first time. That was a few years ago. I was around your age. I was wondering if this would happen.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lucas. That notebook practically came out of nowhere last night, and the day has been really weird.”
“It seems like you had a wonderful day. Did you dominate someone? Little brother, how was it?” Lucas continues, jokingly, “This is such an interesting entry, it really is. My first entry was about getting a job as a barback in a dive bar. There was this girl there, and well, you know. Anyway, that’s not important. You’re a true Valentine man, now.”
Holden catches the gaze of his brother and then looks away, unable to think of what to say or ask next. He knows that it’s going to be a long night. Too much time passed while the two brothers were apart. So much has happened. And now there are so many questions. It seems to Holden that Lucas may have some answers. He grabs a beer and joins Lucas in bed.
“Can you tell me what this notebook means?,” he asks his brother. “And take your time. We have more beer and I don’t go to work in the morning.”