Through the black in Oliver’s mind, and the white noise of nothingness as he slept, a harsh tone sounded. It was quiet at first, but as it repeated itself over and over, Oliver found his eyes opening and his breathing intensifying into standard patterns. His blurred vision cleared into a view, and he caught full sight of his surroundings. Instinctively, he reached his hand over to the source and shut off the alarm on the nightstand, then let his arm hang limply. He stared blankly into the sheets of his boyfriend’s bed and reared his head back to rest his chin on Conrad’s chest. The vintage alarm clock’s hands were pointed in an angle that it was seven o’clock, and that was the last Oliver saw before his eyelids dropped back down, sealing his eyes and turning his vision into blackness.

 - - -

“. . .iver,”


Oliver’s eyes fluttered open a second time. “What. . ?”

Conrad was smiling and looked down at Oliver from his pillow. “We’re a bit late. . . I think I forgot to set my alarm.”

Oliver’s mouth curved into a smile. “My ass is really sore.”

Conrad giggled gently and started to rise, allowing Oliver to roll off his torso. “Well it’s time to get your sore ass up because we’re late.”

Oliver groaned disappointedly and wrapped his arms around Conrad’s torso and kissing the top of his six pack. “Can’t-“ he kissed higher, “we just-“ he kissed to top of Conrad’s chest, “be-“ he kissed Conrad’s neck, “late?”

He slowly pushed Conrad back down onto his back and kissed Conrad’s lips, which curved into a grin. Reluctant at first, the quarterback kissed Oliver back, kissing more willingly as his boyfriend parted his lips and kissed again. It was warm in bed. Against the mattress cover, Conrad’s skin was warm and comfortable and Oliver’s body heat against him only made him feel more warm and less motivated to leave. Gently, Conrad pulled off the kiss.

“No. . . We’ve been late for the past week and my parents are starting to get calls.”

“C’mon, they haven’t even noticed that you’re hosting a sleepover every night.”

Conrad sat back up on the bed criss-cross-applesauce, and Oliver put his chin in his palms, and locating his arms to the sides of Conrad’s legs. Looking down at Oliver made the grin on Conrad’s face a continuous one. He always liked what he saw when it came to his partner. Oliver, with shoulders broad and that had just the right amount of muscle for their distance apart. His back’s muscled curled together when he rested don his elbows, exposing a back that you could only find on a model. All the symmetrical creases and muscles made it aesthetically pleasing.

And his ass. Nights had been spent fucking and licking and smacking and groping, and it seemed to get more fuckable and more beautiful despite the constant use. So many thoughts of Conrad’s were centered around Oliver’s beautiful bubble butt. While he had his own impressive behind, there was something more about Oliver’s in every way. Conrad made it an item on is bucket list to ask Oliver about his ass workout. He could just imagine Oliver in the nude with a barbell on his shoulders, very slowly squatting down and stretching out his glutes, exposing his delicious asshole. The thought of it was getting Conrad hard.

“Woah, you want a little help there?” Oliver asked.

Conrad blinked his eyes as Oliver lifted the tip of his semi-hard member and pressed his lips to the tip of it. “Um. . .”

His eyes shut as Oliver took the first half into his mouth. Oliver’s ears perked with satisfaction as Conrad let out a moan.

“Oliver. . . We really need to get to sch- fuck

Oliver pushed his face down completely on Conrad’s cock, burying his lips in the trimmed hair Conrad had at the base of it. He swallowed the entire length without gagging. He had gotten used to putting something so big in his mouth without any reflexes. Gradually, Conrad pulled his meat out of Oliver’s mouth.Oliver looked up at Conrad with a disappointed look.

“School, Oliver,” Conrad reminded him. Conrad uncrossed his legs and walked into the bathroom.

Oliver watched his nude boyfriend’s ass as it waddled away from him. “Fine.”

Oliver pulled the duvet off his naked body and swung his feet on the ground, pushing himself into stance. He went into his bag and picked out clothes he had decided to take with him last night for this morning. Slipping on a pair of sky blue boxer briefs with lime green stripes, he sauntered after Conrad into the bathroom. Since Oliver was in Conrad house so often nowadays he kept a toothbrush in the bathroom just for occasions like these. He started to scrub away at his pearly whites, his eye wandering over to the toilet. Conrad stood in a powerful stance with his legs apart, and he aimed his now flaccid tool into the toilet, releasing a stream of pee.

“It’s so weird seeing something coming out of your dick that isn’t getting on my face,” Oliver thought aloud jokingly.

“Yeah water sports aren’t really my thing.”

Oliver looked up at Conrad. “Did I say that out loud?”

Conrad giggled and shook off the last few drops, his cock flopping around like a ragdoll. “Yeah,” he said, giving Oliver a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on the ass. “Babe, I’ll meet you out at the car. Don’t take too long.”

“I won’t.”

 - - -

The drive to school was warm. the top of Conrad’s car was down, giving both of the boys a nice breeze through the gentle heat of the morning. The sun was out and there were no clouds in the sky, and the only wind that could be felt was the air blowing against their skin and catching in the fabric of their shirts and making them flutter against the bulk of each boy’s muscled torsos.

Conrad pulled up to his senior parking spot and pushed his sunglasses up his nose, flipping the top of his car up. “Ok do you wanna meet for lunch?”

Oliver nodded and leaned in, giving Conrad a small kiss on the mouth. They both got out of the car and separated, keeping their eyes on each other for a long while until Conrad entered the mathematics building.

 - - -

The door shut to Conrad’s statistics class shut as he entered and turned to the class. A variety of people looked over at the direction of the noise for a moment, but looked away when they had confirmation of the source. Quietly, Conrad walked over and in to his desk, sliding his backpack directly off his shoulder onto the floor under his desk. Trying to not make any sound, he zipped open his backpack and took out a spiral-bound notebook and reached for a pencil. Unfortunately, he didn’t have one, and he turned to his friend on the right.



“You got a pencil I could borrow?”

“Yeah bruh,” Christian responded, holding out a pencil.

Gratefully, Conrad took it.

“Damn, who the fuck gave you that?” Christian said.

Conrad tried to look down to where his friend was pointing, but it was too far up his neck to see. A few other people looked over when Christian asked.

“Hella fine girl, I’ll tell you later,” Conrad choked out.

Conrad’s mind whirred as he began writing down notes. He recalled the moment when he got the large purple hickey on his neck: Oliver and him were having a session of kissing on Conrad’s couch two days ago. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants that hung loosely around his legs with a strong material and no shirt at all. Oliver was wearing a tight white tank top and a pair of navy shorts that went halfway up his thighs. But it didn’t start out as kissing; Conrad and Oliver had been watching a movie.

It was The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Oliver’s favorite musical. The first half of the movie went by quietly, with small commentary from Conrad every once and a while and a giggle from Oliver in response. Only at the point where Rocky, the hunky blond man that Dr. Frankenfurter, was introduced did Conrad stiffen. Almost instinctively, Conrad looked down at his bulky figure and start his comparisons between the sexy android on the screen and himself. On the screen, Rocky flexed, and Conrad made the same gesture, looking at his bicep insecurely.

Don’t do that to yourself, Oliver had said. You’re the sexiest guy I know, he had whispered. Conrad’s teeth dug into his lip as he recalled Oliver’s words of reassurance, and automatically went through the flexes again at his desk, looking at his muscles as he did it. Expecting the same sort of reassurance, Conrad looked around. Only a group of girls in the back were watching intently.

Conrad, you’re much hotter, trust me, Oliver had said. Oliver reached up and set his hand on Conrad’s cheek, then leaned up to kiss it. Very gingerly, Oliver kissed Conrad’s cheek, then a bit low on his jaw. Uncomfortable with where he was relative to how far up he had to lean to kiss his boyfriend’s face, Oliver swung his leg over Conrad’s lap and faced him in a straddle. Conrad leaned his head up, putting his right hand on the back of Oliver’s neck and the other hand on his lower back. Oliver’s hands were squarely on Conrad’s pecs. 

In a delicate fashion, Oliver pushed his lips further down and through into Conrad’s neck, and left a bittersweet trail of kisses down to the top of his chest. Conrad’s breath was heavy as Oliver’s lips opened and closed around each surface of Conrad’s flesh. The first thing that inspired was a bulge in the front of Conrad’s sweatpants pressed up against the tight ass of Oliver’s booty shorts. He let himself grind on Oliver, and leaned his head further back, exposing more neck.

Oh, Oliver the movie— Ohh,”

Oliver pulled away from Conrad and grinned. “The movie will be here when we finish.”

“Oliver. . . my parents are in the other room.”

Oliver crossed his arms and gently slid off of Conrad’s hard on that he was concealing. “I liked it better when they were out of t—“

“—Conrad, harder?”

Conrad’s head snapped into place as he awakened from his vivid remembrance. “Uh, what. . ?”

His teacher had her head cocked to the side and put her hands-on her hips. “I said was it harder?”

Conrad’s face turned red and he slunk his notebook into his lap, covering the hard-on he had from thinking about Oliver and him. “Was what harder? Sorry I wasn’t listening.”

“You weren’t listening. Was the homework last night harder or easier than the material on yesterday’s quiz?”

“Oh, uh. . . I guess easier.” Conrad replied.

“Good, good,” Mrs. Maurell said, as she went back into her lecture.

Conrad shifted uncomfortably and waited until he lost his arousal to start taking notes.

 - - -

Oliver had weight training. It was a class that no other school in his district offered and even though it kept him in killer shape, he was only taking it because the guys would get so sweaty during their training that they would actually use the school showers after they worked out. That was sort of a big deal for anyone who had only taken the standard PE classes or the yoga class beforehand, because nobody used to hardly ever used the school showers except the teachers. During maybe the third or fourth day of school, someone finally said fuck it and stripped down to nothing. It started to trend minutes after, when all the guys watched in envy the water running down Nicholas Amaretti’s body, and eventually followed suit in getting naked.

Oliver never joined in. He either waited until break, which was the period after weight training, to shower, or he would just shower before all the other guys. Even though nobody ever said anything when he would shower with him, it was obvious they were all uncomfortable. Nobody would talk and Oliver always had a 3 foot radius of empty shower space around him. After a while it felt micro aggressive to him and he stopped showering with the other boys. Today, since he was late, he decided all he would do was some squats and leave early.

Evidently, there was nobody in the locker room or showers when Oliver arrived, which meant it was the perfect time to wash himself. Very silently and quickly, Oliver slid off his workout shorts and top and looked at himself in the mirror on the wall next to the lockers. He looked hot: toned abs, popping pecs, bulging biceps and a round squeezable bubble butt. Then his thumbs slipped under the boxer briefs around his waist and let them drop to his ankles, then he looked up. Even though he was seven and a half inches with a boner, the trimmed hair around Oliver’s genitals let loose a four inch flaccid dick. He smiled at himself, then paused.

In the mirror, there showed a white spot in near his hairline. Leaning in, Oliver’s heart thumped. Conrad must’ve shot a bit of his load into Oliver’s hair, who seemed to not have washed it out. Very quickly, Oliver walked into the showers on his toes. The floor was cold. The solution to the cold was easy when you had a source of hot water nearby. Oliver turned the handle on the shower and let the hot water run, thinking to himself about his hair. How had he not seen that before, and how long had it been there? It must’ve been last night. Oliver bit his lip as he thought.

If he were being honest, what got Oliver into the mood was Conrad’s carelessness with his hygiene. Yeah, Conrad brushed his teeth and showered regularly and washed his hands, but after Conrad got finished with his workouts or his runs, he would always smell like deodorant overpowered by sweat. And he had just finished doing a set of pull-ups and squats after an eight mile run. If Oliver hadn’t known where he was, he would’ve thought someone were throwing water balloons at Conrad.

He came through the door to his room at around five o’clock, breathing heavily and limply letting his biceps hang off his muscular shoulders. Oliver, who sat on Conrad’s bed, looked up at him in alarm, thinking it was Conrad’s father. Back straightened, Oliver pushed down onto all fours on top of the duvet, facing Conrad. The jockstrap he was wearing was a spiderweb jockstrap; it had two extra straps up Oliver’s already restrained ass. The only thing he was wearing were a pair of joggers over it. He crawled over to the edge of the bed and got onto his feet, walking over to the sweaty jock in the doorway.

The more he analyzed it, it seemed that Conrad’s hygiene in contrast with Oliver’s compulsiveness and cleanliness was what turned him on. He reached over and grabbed the waistband of Conrad’s gym shorts, then pulled Conrad himself over to him. Weakly, Conrad complied, letting himself be dragged into his boyfriend’s body. Oliver pulled his shorts down, revealing a tight black jockstrap that Conrad was wearing during his squats. Oliver’s lips curved into a grin and he put his hand under Conrad’s shirt, rubbing his fingers up Conrad’s washboard abs, and pressing his nose into Conrad’s damp shoulder-strap of his tank top, his lips doing the same. I’m back. . . Conrad murmured, sliding arms gently around Oliver.

Kiss by kiss, Oliver trailed his way over to Conrad’s shoulder, resting his lips against it when he got there. Conrad closed his eyes at the gentle and tingly sensation of Oliver’s kisses, and he opened his mouth into a groan when Oliver slowly slid his lips down from Conrad’s shoulder. Oliver kissed over the curve around Conrad’s armpit, and stopped at the bottom. His pupils flicked over to Conrad’s face, and his tongue rolled out of his mouth onto his lover’s skin. He pressed his tongue flatly and forcefully against the bottom of Conrad’s armpit and began to drag it upward.

The look on Conrad’s face drove Oliver mad with lust; he was aching for Conrad’s musk. The salty taste from Conrad’s sweat stung Oliver’s taste buds, and he bit his lip once he had pulled his tongue over the entire thing. Conrad’s head angled forward to gaze into Oliver’s eyes. Once again, Oliver dove into the quarterback’s underarms, kissing up the muscle and licking at the skin. With a sensation of ecstasy flowing through his arm, Conrad bit his lower lip and shut his eyes, moaning softly.

After a minute or two went by of Oliver enjoying the taste of Conrad’s toil, he pulled up the torso of Conrad’s shirt above his pecs very gently kissed Conrad’s left nipple. Ever since they had begun to hook up, Oliver had known Conrad’s left nipple to be the more sensitive of the two, and therefore more easily-stimulated to pleasure as well as more intensely affected by it. Conrad’s right hand raised itself up to his chest and let his fingers graze back and forth around the muscle. They eventually closed around the nipple opposite to Oliver and tightly pinched and pulled, triggering more ecstasy inside of Conrad’s exhausted body.

Then Oliver pulled away briefly and kissed the top of Conrad’s six-pack abdominals, inside the crease between each pack of muscle, and sliding the hem of his shirt down as he went. On a trip downward, he did this with each muscle; he kissed lower and lower in between Conrad’s abs. Oliver took the time it took him to kiss down Conrad’s stomach to push Conrad around and backward, causing him to stumble onto his bed and sit on the edge. His knees spread apart, exposing a large bulge inside the front pouch of his jockstrap.

Oliver’s hands reached through the air and placed themselves on Conrad’s knees, separating them even further, and Oliver moved forward on his knees between Conrad’s thighs.  Very slowly, they slid up the heavily-muscled quadriceps and rested underneath the pouch which enveloped the thing that drove Oliver the most mad. What made him clasp his fingers around the waistband of Conrad’s undergarment, and push the soft fabric and what it held inside it between his palms. Finally, he pulled the elastic strap down below what Conrad had hidden inside.

Conrad’s balls fell out from his jockstrap, his dick limply following suit. Oliver gazed at it longingly, tantalized by the large piece of meat that was waiting for attention from him. It was semi-hard, so it still had an element of flaccidness that kept it from being completely stiff. An element of flaccidness that told Oliver it needed a bit extra help. Something that Oliver would have to oblige to in order to satisfy his lust and to keep Conrad pleased.

At around this point Conrad’s member, at half mast, was around six inches, and the head of it was going straight into Oliver’s lips. Oliver made a suction into his mouth, bringing in as much of Conrad’s cock as he could. Conrad leaned his head back, his back doing the same, and his right arm extending back to support himself, keeping him from falling completely backwards. He knew the warm feeling around his cock all too well after  the one night after the homecoming dance, when Oliver had taken him into the bathroom per his request, and shown him a part of himself that he had once doubted when he broke their relations for a few weeks. The wet warm feeling enveloped the entirety of how much cock was in Oliver’s mouth.

Slowly, Oliver pushed himself further and further down his boyfriend’s erect dick. The soft skin seemed to only soften more as it became a little bit spongey with saliva. Conrad pressed his lips together ad shut his eyes as Oliver began to more effortfully bob up and down on him, and his chest inflated with breath. The large exhale Conrad gave next also gave way to a hum that came from the vocal chords in his throat. The warm feeling around his tool began to send a tickling feeling around the inside his pelvis.

The taste of salty flesh in Oliver’s mouth was pleasing to him, and so was the groans that were coming out of Conrad’s mouth. His hands slid back and forth against Conrad’s thighs, his right hand narrowing in under Conrad’s ass. Oliver’s mind whirred from his fixation on giving Conrad killer oral to the feeling of discomfort as Conrad sat squarely on his hand, oblivious to Oliver’s intentions. Oliver’s fingers tensed under the large amount of muscle and flesh to send Conrad that message he was using for a bit of room. In response, Conrad’s hips raised slightly, giving Oliver a bit of wiggle room to allow him to rub his pointer and middle fingers against Conrad’s ass. Conrad came out of his fuzzy state of mind for a small moment. Wait, wait.

Oliver reared his head back to the head of the cock, and raised his pupils to Conrad’s face. Hm? Inside his mouth, his tongue slowly dragged up the slit, causing Conrad to retire from reality back into his fuzzy state of ecstasy.

His head whipped back and forth into a shake. Never mind. In that act of tacit consent, Oliver’s fingers slowly entered Conrad’s ass. Again, Conrad’s vocal chords vibrated into a hum. Up and down through Conrad’s asshole, Oliver’s fingers pressed time and again up against Conrad’s prostate. For someone who had been unsure about having another guy’s finger’s in his ass, Conrad’s pleasure was soaring, and he very gently ground up against Oliver’s hand and fingers, raising and lowering himself on Oliver’s fingers. His legs were twitching and his feet were rubbing back and forth against the carpet, taking in the feeling of rough material against such a sensitive area.

With Oliver sucking his dick and fingering his ass, Conrad was beginning to gain a feeling inside of himself that made him shudder in pleasure to think about. All the sexual thought and all the relief of sexual tension was sparking something. A feeling that grew under the skin, behind his balls. A tingling feeling that ran down his legs and shot up his stomach. It made his legs spasm and his toes curl. His chest shot forward, and his body arched into Oliver. Conrad’s hands swings around and clasped the back of Oliver’s hair, pulling him down. Conrad’s cock was deep in Oliver’s throat, and his balls tensed suddenly against Oliver’s chin. Fuck, Oliver. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum. Oh, god. . . Conrad groaned, firing his first load deep inside Oliver’s throat. Fu-hu-hu-huck.

As Oliver slowly starting pulling off of Conrad’s piece of meat, another load was shot into his mouth. A third one was shot before Oliver’s mouth, besides Conrad’s cum, was empty. Conrad immediately stood up, forcibly removing Oliver’s fingers from the cavity of his ass. Oliver’s mouth stayed open, and on his knees, he looked up at Conrad’s face; his mouth hung open in sweet ecstasy and his eyebrows were angled upwards in pleasure. His right hand was stroking the full eight inches of his cock over Oliver’s chest, which was receiving it’s fifth string of hot, sticky, semen. The sixth shot over Oliver’s face, making a line of white cum from Oliver’s top lip all the way above his forehead, to his hairline—

Oliver’s head shot up and he put his hand into his water-soaked hairline. That was the source of the dried cum in his hair. Oliver shut off the water and looked down. His own cock was at full attention. Suddenly there was a cough. Oliver turned quickly to the sound, his dick swinging around with him.

“Oh my,” said Oliver’s audience.

Mr. Pressiveson,” Oliver exclaimed. “Oh shit.”

Oliver’s junior year weight training teacher stood before him, looking into Oliver’s eyes, then his gaze lowered to Oliver’s fully-engorged member. He had a towel slung over his bare shoulder, and his own body was fully nude. Oliver turned around quickly, hiding his erection from his gym teacher.

“This isn’t what it looks like, I swear,” he said, trying to assure the teacher.

He turned his head and looked at the teacher standing behind him. Mr. Pressiveson was relieved from his first year in weight training, when he taught Oliver, solely because another more heavily muscled man applied for the job. Mr. Pressiveson continued as a PE teacher for freshmen. He was still in nice shape though. His thighs were well toned, and so were his abs. His pectorals were prominent from his rowing team and his biceps were well equipped with muscle. His face was unshaven and had a dazzling shaven beard and the hair on his chest was well groomed. He had a treasure trail that went down to a patch of trimmed pubic hair around his genitals.

Before Oliver had turned around, Mr. Pressiveson’s dick had been flaccid, hanging over a pair of the smoothest looking balls he’d ever seen, at a length of around four inches. When he turned his body away from the teacher, he could see that little Pressiveson was beginning to grow in size, and Mr. Pressiveson was standing still. He seemed to be paralyzed, and he was still staring at Oliver’s naked figure. From the angle of his head, and the most prominent of Oliver’s backside, Oliver had to guess that his old teacher was staring at his ass.

“Um,” Oliver shifted uncomfortably, “I’m gonna head out,”

Mr. Pressiveson cleared his throat, “Sounds good.”

Oliver turned around and started walking towards the side of his old teacher, and watched the look on his face go from wanting to all-out thirst. It was almost as if the grown man wanted to reach out and touch him. His eyebrows angled and his mouth hung slightly open, and his gaze set on Oliver’s seven inch erection. As Oliver passed him, he reached forward and patted Oliver on the chest, then dropped his hand limply, playfully slapping his ass. Oliver stopped in shock, and Mr. Pressiveson held it there with a chuckle, then squeezed.

“Wow. Squats are really paying off,” he chortled, as Oliver sped back up into motion to leave.

- - -

“Wow, the gym teacher is gay for you,” Conrad laughed, putting his hand on the shirt over Oliver’s chest. “And why wouldn’t he be?” His other hand slipped underneath Oliver’s underwear, groping at his ass. 

Oliver laughed softly, and lifted his head quickly, a ring going through the bathroom stall the two boys were in. “Break is over, I need to get to class.”

Conrad groaned. “Fine. . .” He quickly kissed Oliver on the lips and left the bathroom, Oliver following behind a few minutes later.

Conrad was standing still right outside the bathroom, his face white.


Tyler Jennings passed the two boys, “Aw, look who it is, the school favorite two homos!”

Oliver’s eyes widened and he turned to Conrad. Conrad put his hand over his mouth silently.

“She told,” he whispered, his voice cracking.



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