Xander Shows Me My Prostate

I squeak out something close to an affirmative, fighting the urge to hump myself into his hand. Xander stares at me a moment longer, as though there's something he needs to see in my face, in my expression, before he can be sure we're on the same page. 

And then he nods, and - grinning - turns back to the road. 

"They do these great breakfast burritos," he tells me, casually. As though he hasn't just been groping me through my shorts; as though he didn't just deliver an ultimatum that my first time fucking a guy needed to be ground-shakingly memorable. 

"Uh, okay," I say, because I need to reply with something and there's no way my brain is going to be capable of more than that. "Have you taken Lucy there?" 

He side-eyes me a little, shifting a little in the seat. "We don't need to talk about her, dude. We're just hanging out, here, y'know?"

There's a subtext there, but I'm not sure what it says. Not sure whether Xander is trying to reassure me, somehow, on the assumption that I feel like everything he and I do together has to be some adjunct to their relationship. Or if it's himself that he's trying to pacify, after telling me yesterday that what we did together had to be physical rather than emotional, in order for it to fit within the terms of their agreement. 

"Okay," I say, simply. There's no way I can ask him to tell me which it is.

I figure we'd drive there in silence; not sure, even, if my brain has enough capacity to handle conversation when he's already got me worked up so much this morning. I'd felt, for a moment, like I had... not the upper hand, but like I was the one being forward, setting the pace, when I sent him the photo. I hadn't figured on Xander seeing that, taking it as a challenge almost, and then raising the stakes once again. 

He starts talking, though, and - before I know it - I'm chattering back with him. Light stuff; easy, casual topics. Nothing that brings us too close to flirting, or to his girlfriend, or to what he's already told me is on the menu today. The stuff I want to do after school, and how he got into mending cars.

"I guess I've always wanted to work with my hands," Xander says, and I snicker, amused. 

"Yeah, I noticed," I tell him, grinning. 

He rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "One track mind, Luka, one track mind."

Daring myself to channel a little of the boldness he's shown me, a little of the confidence that Dan coaxed out of me, I reach across the car and lay my hand on Xander's thigh. Not too close to his crotch, no, but not too near his knee either. 

"Can you blame me?" I ask him. Squeeze his leg, just a little. Xander sucks his teeth, then flashes me a look.

"Dude, you're making me rethink breakfast," he admits, chuckling. I aim for an expression that I hope makes me look seductive.

"We could skip the burritos and eat something else," I suggest. 

Xander raises an eyebrow. "Not hungry?"

I shrug, sliding my hand a little further up his thigh. "For other things, maybe."

It's funny, being able to almost see the cogs in his brain whirling. I'm so used to it being me who's torn between decisions, getting dragged into situations because my body - my libido - is calling the shots. I can't say I dislike the fact that Xander is vulnerable to it too.

"Burritos to go, then," he settles on, and I decide I can take that as a partial victory. I don't move my hand, either, and he shows no signs of wanting me to.

Of course, I'm also fully aware that by raising the stakes, I've put myself right in the center of Xander's crosshairs when it comes to teasing. A reality he wastes no time in demonstrating as soon as we walk in through the door.

"So what looks good to you?" he asks, standing behind me, hands on my shoulders. Just enough pressure from his fingers and thumbs to make me achingly aware of his presence; standing not quite so close that I can feel him against my back, only the heat of him. 

I swallow, trying to focus on the menu on the wall behind the counter. It feels like the words are swimming in front of my eyes.

"Uh... just, um... breakfast burrito..." Even I can hear how ridiculous, how distracted I sound. Xander chuckles. 

"Such a straightforward boy." He pushes me forward, my legs managing one step and then another, until we're at the counter. "Coffee and a breakfast burrito for me, please. Luka?"

Is it cheating if I just say "the same"? And why am I suddenly concerned about whether ordering the same thing as Xander is cheating? My brain feels like it's spinning in my skull, not least because his hand is sliding down my spine and I have a strong suspicion what the destination he has in mind would be.

There's no sense of satisfaction in being correct, not when I'm desperately resisting the urge to glance back and see if anybody is watching Xander' squeeze my ass through my shorts. 

"Uh... coffee please..." The guy behind the counter is giving me a smile, even if I suspect he has no idea where my reticence is coming from. I try not to gasp when I feel Xander's fingers push into my back pocket. "And... uh... burrito!" It comes out as a squawk, because he's pushed so eagerly his fingertips have ripped right through the lining and I can feel them brushing against my bare skin.

"Which burrito?" the guy at the register asks. I blink at him, eyes fluttering as Xander's hand eases further into my shorts. The lining is so thin, I couldn't even put my phone or wallet in the pockets without worrying they'd tear. It didn't stand a chance compared to Xander's probing fingers. 

"Bu... burrito," I repeat, "uh, breakfast... one." 

I get a bemused look as he punches it into the screen. "Wait a sec, guys, I'll grab your coffees first."

It's probably for the best, because my body has frozen. Deer-in-the-headlights still as fingertips brush lightly across the curve of my cheek and then push, slowly but insistently, into the crack of my ass. 

I want to tell myself that he wouldn't, that he couldn't... that Xander, for all he loves to see me squirm, he wouldn't finger my hole while we're stood in line. And yet, deep down, I know that he absolutely would, and more than that, I'd let him do it. Because even as my heart is hammering in my chest, my legs are inching apart too, making it even easier for him. 

"Here you go," the guy says, setting down two takeout cups on the counter. I stare at him, wondering what he can read into my face right now. 

"Thanks, dude," Xander says, smoothly. "Luka, buddy, can you grab those?" 

I reach out, shaking hands seizing both cups. Know that it leaves me even more vulnerable, unable to move fast or brush his hands away from me lest I spill hot coffee everywhere. Xander reaches out, tapping his phone against the register's pad. 

"No worries, I'll have the food ready for you at the end of the counter." 

Xander nods, grinning. I feel his fingertip just graze across my entrance, almost more of a tickle than anything else, and have to fight to stay upright. Then, as quickly as it was pushing in, his hand is out and he's walking down the long counter. 

"Coming?" His smile says he knows exactly why I'm reticent. 

If I step back, the fact that my cock is rigid is going to be, well, obvious. No underwear to hold it in place, or even just to press it up against my hip where there's a chance it could be overlooked. No, right now it's basically tenting out the front of my shorts,

Problem is, I can't just stand here, because I'm holding up the line. And somehow shifting the two cups of unexpectedly-hot-coffee to somehow mask my crotch... well, that would look even weirder. Meanwhile the guy who took our order is looking at me with increasing bemusement, and I know my time has pretty much run out. 

So I take a step back. Blushing, because there's no way I can stop myself, and try to move as rapidly as possible - though not so much that it looks like I'm running, or for that matter that I risk spilling coffee down myself - down the counter to where Xander is standing, smirking at me. 

I'm quick, but I still catch the guy's double-take when his eyes flick down to my shorts. And then, when I can't help but glance back, his suddenly knowing grin is all too obvious. No doubting, either, what he's thinking when he nods slowly at me, eyebrow raised as he glances across to where Xander is looking mightily amused. 

"Asshole," I hiss at Xander, who seems unperturbed by my frustration. In fact, he seems more keen to "accidentally" brush against where my cock is straining urgently against the front of my shorts. 

"I did tell you I wanted to show you off," he points out. I flinch as he taps the very tip of my dick; hear, and am left mortified by, the snort of amusement from the guy watching us from the register. I want to close my eyes, as though that will throw the whole situation into darkness, but the idea of not being able to see what Xander might do next is enough to make my stomach lurch. 

"Here's your coffee," I tell him, instead. Thrust it out to him, stopping only inches from his chest; Xander grabs it, instinctively, both hands wrapping around the cardboard sleeve as his eyes widen in surprise. 

Leaving him with no way to stop me as I drop my hand and, still smiling, wrap my fingers around the swell of his crotch. 

It's mostly shielded by my body, though honestly if anybody in the line - or, for that matter, anybody sitting at the tables around us - turned, glanced across, it wouldn't be too difficult to see something was off. My closeness too him, my posture. Even if they couldn't see the way my cock was straining toward him still, the fact that I'm basically palming his dick is hardly disguised. 

I'm acting on impulse, but the way Xander stiffens - both in the larger sense and, more specifically, more pleasingly, quickly in my grip - sends a rush of satisfaction through me. It might not be the skin on skin contact I desperately want right now, but seeing an expression I can only describe as happy shock on his face is hardly leaving room for regrets. 

Only to squeak in surprise myself, as he talks the half-step forward and closes the gap between us. 

My hand is sandwiched with his hardness on one side and mine on the other. Xander's arms wrapping around me, one still gripping his drink, while I try desperately to maneuver mine out of the way before it's squashed by our chests. Too focused on that, of course, to step away, or in fact do anything that would take me out of reach of his hug. 

"So tactile, so public," he murmurs at me, mockingly. Knowing I haven't thought this through; knowing, too, that had I even begun to consider the possibilities - the end game beyond simply turning the tables on him - I'd have realized that, far from freezing up, he was only ever going to embrace it. 

I hear a chuckle behind me; not unkind, but certainly amused. Blush, wondering if it's the guy from the register or another of the customers, watching two guys cuddle. My paranoia is sending my anxiety into overdrive, imagining eyes on us from every corner, only I daren't look around just in case I realize that's actually true. 

"Not here," I whisper, desperately, but only feel his arms around me tighten. Squeezing my ribs, and in the process pulling me even harder into him. My dick stiff against the back of my hand, and his an unmistakable thickness that my fingers can't help but squirm around curiously. 

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" Xander asks. Voice low, but there's still a twist of something inside me, in my chest. Because it's not like that, and I can't believe he could ever start to believe it might be. If anything, he's the one who should be embarrassed to be seen with me, if someone has to feel that. It's just that... well, I'm not used to being on display like this. 

"People will..." I start to say, the words petering out as I haven't thought the sentence through. Just this wild, nebulous fear that they'll look at me, judge me; think I'm dirty or wrong, somehow. I don't know if Xander ever felt that, if he's ever been so insecure, but the idea of it terrifies me.

He nudges the side of my face with his nose, a soft, slow brush. "People will be jealous, maybe," he suggests, voice equally careful. "Or turned on. I'm turned on, Luka."

I can feel that. No disguising it, not the way Xander is levering his hips into me. And while I'm shocked at what we're doing in a public place, there's still some part of me which is thrilling at the hardness in his shorts and the knowledge that I'm responsible for it.

"Uh, here's your food, guys." I jolt, but Xander pulls back more slowly, like the interruption didn't startle him at all. Turns, to look at the guy holding out a bag across the counter. 

I risk a glance; find we're being stared at, yes, but his expression says only amusement laced, perhaps, with a little fascination too. 

"Thanks, appreciate it dude," Xander says. Unwraps an arm from me to reach out, grab the proffered bag. 

A nod, in reply. "You guys have... fun."

I didn't imagine the wink, I know I didn't. Brain filling with imagined assumptions, what he must be thinking about Xander and I. 

"Oh, count on it," Xander tells him, grinning. I drop my hands - still clutching the coffee cup - to my crotch as he steps back, painfully aware of the way the guy looks down instantly to where we both know I'm rigid and obscenely outlined through my shorts. When I force myself to make eye-contact with him, he smirks at me again. 

I just about start breathing once we're out of the door. Try not to speed-walk across the pavement to Xander's car, and then force myself to just the two tugs on the locked handle until he hits the remote. 

"You're so fucking cute when you're worked up," he teases me, pulling his door shut. I roll my head to look over at him, sparing him a glare. 

"I'm never going anywhere in public with you again," I tell him. Xander snorts. 

"So we're just going to stay indoors forever, then?" 

I open my mouth to reply, but it comes out as a squeak instead because he grabs my cock and rubs it through my shorts. The fabric rasping against my tip in a way that quickly has me writhing in the seat, panting at him to stop.

"Luka." 

I'm gasping now, flinching even though his hand has stopped moving for the moment. Just the feel of him holding me is enough to leave me squirming.

"Luka."

Gritting my teeth, I force myself to look at him again. Take in his smile, the knowing expression. "What?"

Xander licks his lips, and I can't help but watch how they glisten afterwards. Picture myself leaning in and kissing them; how that would feel against my own mouth. He has to have felt how my dick jerked at just the idea of it. 

"Here's what's gonna happen," he tells me, "okay?" I nod. Somehow, instructions make this easier. Leave me in no uncertainty as to what's expected from me; what I'm meant to be doing to make the situation better for the both of us. Xander smiles at me. "We're gonna go to my place. Right now, though, you're gonna unzip your shorts. I want to be able to play with your cock while I'm driving. And then, when we get there, you're going to fuck me so hard, I see stars. Sound good?"

I open my mouth, wordless. See him staring at me, and know that he's expecting protests. Expecting to have to persuade me, coerce me. Seduce me, even. Nudge me past my automatic fear, and the instinctive reluctance to step outside of my comfort zone. 

I look at him, and see all of that in Xander's face. See him preparing to convince me to let down my guard. 

And so I nod, instead. Set my drink in a cup holder and, still holding his gaze, reach for the button of my shorts. Push that through, and then tug down the zip; lift my hips, so that I can not only shove my pants down enough for him to grope me while I drive, but all the way down, to my feet. 

Then sit back, watching as his smile spreads, the glint of white teeth crisp between his lips. See the moment Xander's eyes flit down my body, taking in this moment of me exposed so blatantly for him.

"Fuck, you're hot," he murmurs, and I can't help myself, I giggle happily. "Someone might see you," he adds, a warning delivered with a smile. 

I shrug, pressing my thumb at the base of my cock and wagging it around. Gratified to see how Xander's gaze instantly locks on; the subconscious lick of his lips. 

"You said you wanted me super, super horny," I remind him. We both glance down, to where a thick bubble of precum is just about to slide along my shaft. Watch it in silence, until it hits the ring of my fingers and I slick it across my length. 

Biting his lip, nodding, Xander gives me a measured look. "You ready to fuck me with that thing, Luka?" 

I nod, voice suddenly untrustworthy. He stares at me a moment longer, then grins and starts the car. 

It's not like he's driving unsafely, but I know Xander is distracted. Would have to be, given the way his hand is playing with my dick as he drives. Fingers groping around me, one moment toying with the thick, swollen head and the next delivering long, teasing strokes that have me squirming for more. Squeezing my balls, as my thighs instinctively part as best they can given the space we have to work with; enough, certainly, for him to reach down further and push his fingertip against my hole. 

I gasp when he presses into me, my precum and sweat the only lube. Feel my body adjust to his pumping digit, the angles awkward and Xander still mainly focused elsewhere, but it's still enough to leave me dizzy. Remembering what happened in the cafe, the way his hand had pushed into my shorts. Knowing, too, that he'd have happily fingered my ass there as well, regardless of who was around us. 

Lifting my legs, heels just about balanced on the edge of the seat, I spread myself further for him. Hiss between my teeth as his second finger grinds into me, my overwhelmed muscles gradually yielding. 

"Why... does it feel like... I'm the one getting... fucked, today?" I ask him, the question halting as I grunt at the way he's working me. Xander laughs. 

"It's not either-or, dude. A body is a body; we don't need to ignore the parts of it that feel good, just because we decided one way to play that day or another." He hooks his fingers up, our positions making it tricky but still just about grazing that pleasure spot in me. I groan, forcing my hips down, harder, onto his hand. 

Even as the pleasure is throbbing through me, though, I'm trying to process what he said. Trying, too, to rationalize the fact that everything in me is screaming that Xander needs to nail me as soon as fucking possible, because I know nothing will feel so incredible as his dick sliding into my ass. Even if, at the same time, the thought of burying myself into his hole - of him looking back at me as I do it, his expression glazed with lust - is equally powerful, just as insistent. 

And in my brain, too, the sluggishly, distractedly arriving realization that maybe I've been thinking about all this wrong. Too black and white: as though there's a set of things you can do when you fuck someone, and another set that can happen when you're the one getting fucked, and they're not allowed to overlap at all. Whereas I'm starting to realize now that, even if I'm screwing Xander, there's still no part of my body which is going to be off-limits to him. 

It's simultaneously thrilling and overwhelming.

"How long... since you, y'know?" I ask him. Kick myself mentally for being so ridiculously coy, too shy to say the words in my head despite everything that's going on in the car right now. 

Xander grins, glancing over at me from the road. "It's been a little while. You're gonna have to warm me up, dude."

Suddenly, in my mind's eye, our roles are reversed. Flipped around, so that it's Xander who's spread for me, desperately presenting his most sensitive, intimate parts. My hands on his body, fingers pulling and playing; sliding into his ass and feeling the way he gradually softens in readiness. 

"I want to hear you beg for it," I tell him, out of nowhere, and then feel myself blush furiously at the bluntness, the transparency. Realize, as I chew my lip self-consciously, that he's pulling the car to a halt; look up, to see we're outside his apartment building already. 

Motion, dragging my attention back inside, as Xander leans over and - fingers still twisting in my hole - slurps the head of my cock into his mouth. Bobbing on me wetly, hungrily, as though I was the breakfast not the forgotten burritos, right up until the point where I'm just about to slap at his shoulders because it feels too much, too good, too soon.

He sits up again, unprompted, instead. Lips glistening, pupils huge. He knows how I taste, some part of my brain thinks, distracted. Can there really be anything more intimate?

"We're here," he tells me, redundantly. "You ready?" 

I nod, unable to take my eyes off him. 

"Gonna take it easy on me?" Xander asks with a grin.

I shake my head. Watch the grin spread wider.

"Good. Come inside and nail my ass already."

---

A huge thank you to everyone who has commented, shared, or rated this story so far! It's really appreciated!

If Luka's exploration of his sexuality has you looking for more straight-boys-discover-gay-play tales, and you enjoy your erotica filled with ass-play, cum, college boy hookups, and some remote-control sex toys, then I think you'll like my story "Seven Days to Squirm" too...