All events and characters in this story are fictional. None of it is based on any true events.
Hey, I'm Matt. I'm the kind of guy who thrives on the adrenaline rush of the hockey rink and also enjoys the lively chaos of a good frat party.
Picture this: a ruggedly handsome dude with a perpetual smirk, always full of charm and wit.
On the rink, I'm a beast—star forward for the college hockey team, the one everyone talks about as a top NHL draft prospect. Off it? I'm that frat star most dudes secretly wish they were, but they're still cool with grabbing a beer with me. I'm usually right in the middle of the action, surrounded by a crew of guys or girls cracking up at whatever bullshit I'm puttin out. Straight up, I'm as charismatic as I am athletic. Not tryna brag. Just being honest here.
But let's be real, what they're most jealous of is the body. I'm built like a tank because I grind in the gym like it's my job. Second home, no exaggeration. I own every inch of muscle I've earned.
Campus girls? They can't stay away. It's basically routine. I catch them staring, eyes dragging over me a little too long—and yeah, who could blame them? This hockey-carved physique isn't subtle. They love reaching out to feel the abs, the arms, whatever. I've got confidence for days, maybe a touch too much cockiness, but the attention just feeds it. Deep down, I know they eat that shit up. If I wanted, I could have damn near every girl here. But I'm not looking to lock it down. Not even close. No girl's gonna tie me down anytime soon. I'm soaking up the spotlight, playing the field with a grin, and I fucking love being the center of it all.
I went full beast mode this summer, sculpting myself into something worth showing off. Tonight's the season opener—the first big frat party of the year—and I'm not just showing up. I'm arriving. Tight jeans, shirtless, school logo painted across my chest. Every rep, every drop of sweat this summer led to this. Call it vain, call it cocky, whatever—when the bass drops and the place lights up, I'm owning it. It's not just the body; it's my energy, the whole fuckin vibe. I've got both cranked to max. Let the new year kick off with a bang.
The party feels alive, pulsing with laughter, music, bodies everywhere. I weave through the crowd shirtless, soaking in the electric buzz. My frat brothers are scattered around, each adding to the madness.
I definitely like what I see. Over by the makeshift bar, a crew's deep in beer pong—cheers exploding, high-fives flying after every cup. Their trash talk bounces off the walls like a soundtrack.
In the corner, a couple buddies are manning the DJ setup, fingers flying over the pads, mixing tracks. By the pool table, another group is arguing loud about stupid bullshit probably. Their cue sticks are waving, shots sinking between jabs and laughs.
I'm scanning for something worth my time when my eyes land on Chelsea. Blonde, magnetic, standing alone by the drinks. Fucking stunning. I know she's Kevin's girl (my buddy's girl) and that just makes the pull stronger in this charged haze. A slow grin spreads as I start cutting through the crowd toward her, drawn like I can't help it. Chelsea's this bright, tempting spark in the middle of all the noise.
Fuck, she looks sexy tonight.
I head over, adjusting my backward cap with a confident swagger. I nod at some random chick staring, then fist-bump a brother on the way. I shoot a cheeky wink at a girl from way back—face familiar, name gone, but I definitely remember nailing her into my mattress last spring. Pretty sure she was a good lay...maybe I'll hit her up again if I need a plan B tonight.
The bass thumps in time with my steps as I close in. Chelsea and I fall into easy banter right away. Her eyes are sparkling with that mischievous glint, and I can't resist poking the bear.
"Well, well," I drawl, smirking. "Look who's here without her better half."
She hits me with a playful smirk of her own. "Maybe I'm just here for a change of scenery. Kevin's not the only one who knows how to have a good time."
I lean in. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were avoiding me. Scared you can't resist the irresistible?"
She laughs, that sound hitting me right in the chest. "Matt, you overestimate yourself."
I arch a brow. "Do I? I've caught those looks, Chelsea. Can't blame you—I'm pretty damn unforgettable."
She rolls her eyes, but there's amusement there, a spark. "You're incorrigible, Matt. Kevin's lucky he's got me to keep you in check."
I lean closer, dropping my voice. "Maybe it's you who needs keeping in check. You might be surprised what you've been missing."
The air between us crackles. I step in bold, guiding her hands to my rock-hard abs—an invitation, no words needed. I lean in for the kiss, all confidence and heat.
But she shuts it down hard. Firm. No hesitation.
Surprise flickers across my face as she pulls back, storms off, leaving me standing there in the middle of the party, the script flipped in a way I didn't see coming.
---
Undeterred by Chelsea's unexpected resistance, I brushed off the rejection with a nonchalant smirk. Confidence intact, I scanned the room, fully aware that another target for the night awaited. rejection was just a temporary detour, a minor hiccup in the grand symphony of the party. The night was young, and I was determined to make it unforgettable.
In the midst of the party's chaotic rhythm, I found myself deep in conversation with a dude I’d met only a few moments earlier named Chase Huxley. This Texan, a handsome and cute standout in both rugby and wrestling, brought a touch of southern charm to the New England scene. Apparantly he was only in town for a few days, visiting one of his former wrestling teammates for the weekend.
Standing at 5'10 with brown hair and piercing blue eyes, Chase's muscular frame was impossible to ignore, a testament to his athletic prowess.
His form-fitting clothes accentuated every contour of his physique, a subtle display of quiet confidence that matched his easygoing demeanor. Clad in attire that hugged his muscles in all the right places, Chase unknowingly grew naughty glances from people all throughout the night, myself included.
Slapping Chase on the back, I shot him a grin. "Hey, Huxley! You catch that game last night?"
Chase chuckled, "Hell yeah, man! Cowboys brought the heat. Your Patriots got a run for their money, huh?"
I raised an eyebrow, "Easy there, Tex. The Pats might've had a rough start, but you know they'll bounce back. Brady's legacy, man."
Chase threw a mock salute, "Well, good luck with that, but the boys from Dallas are looking solid this season. Playoffs, here we come."
I smirked, "Playoffs? We'll see about that. Don't forget, we've got Bill Belichick – the genius. What's your excuse?"
Leaning in, Chase said, "Genius or not, you guys can't underestimate the power of some Texas grit on the field. It's gonna be a showdown."
The banter continued, defending our turf like the outcome of the entire NFL season hinged on our spirited conversation.
I couldn't help but catch a whiff of Chase's distinct scent – a blend of masculine deodorant with a hint of fresh sweat. It wasn't overpowering; rather, it carried a rugged allure, encapsulating the essence of a guy who embraced both the grit of the field and the crispness of a well-groomed demeanor. In that subtle fragrance, there was a raw authenticity...something masculine yet refined.
The beer pong table was set, and Chase shot me a confident grin. "Ready to get schooled, Boston boy?"
I chuckled, lining up my shot. "You talk a big game, Huxley. Let's see if your aim's as good as your banter."
Chase made his shot, but the ball bounced off the rim. I raised an eyebrow. "Close, Tex, but no cigar. My turn."
As the game progressed, the trash talk intensified. "You throw like my grandma, Matt!"
I sunk another shot effortlessly. "Your grandma must have a killer aim, then."
Chase, determined to save face, retorted, "I hope you're better at this than your Patriots were last night."
I shot back, "Ouch, low blow. Maybe I'll let you win just to spare you the embarrassment."
The crowd egged us on as the banter reached a fever pitch. Then, in a twist of fate, as Chase leaned over to take a shot, there was an audible rip. We both turned to see his jeans had given up the ghost – right at the butt. I couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Looks like your jeans are cowboys fans – falling apart when it matters most!"
Chase, red-faced but still grinning, admitted defeat. "Alright, Boston, you win this round. But mark my words, I'll be back for a rematch."
With a boisterous laugh, I clapped Chase on the back. "Come on, Tex. Looks like we need to make a pit stop to my room. I've got a spare pair of shorts that should save your dignity."
As we ascended the stairs, I couldn't resist teasing. "Who knew your Texan charm had such an impact on your fat ass, buddy? Round and proud, huh?"
Chase shot me a mock glare. "Watch it, Boston. My butt's got character."
---
My room is a snapshot of my life as a college hockey player. The air carries a distinctive blend of masculinity and musk – a concoction of sweat, cologne, and the aftermath of countless practices and games. Hockey gear is strewn across the room.
The walls are adorned with posters capturing the essence of the game.. The scent of well-worn gear mingles with the musky ambiance. Amidst the jerseys and posters, there's a forgotten pair of sorority girl's panties lying in the corner. A discreet souvenir from a hot encounter a few nights ago.
Entering my room, I tossed Chase a pair of shorts, "Here you go, Huxley. Let's see if those can handle your Texas sized ass cheeks."
As he changed, I couldn't resist a playful slap on his now infamous ripped jeans area. "Careful, those shorts might not survive the Huxley effect either."
Chase blushed as I playfully slapped his butt, the unexpected camaraderie turning into a moment of shared laughter. As he changed into the spare shorts, I couldn't help but admire his handsome face and the sculpted physique that spoke of his athletic prowess.
As Chase changed into the spare shorts, my eyes lingered on the intricate details of his physique. His shoulders broadened with a sculpted definition, a testament to the countless hours spent on rugby and wrestling. The contours of his back highlighted muscular symmetry, each movement showcasing strength and agility. A subtle trail of sweat glistened on his toned skin, emphasizing the athleticism that shaped every inch of his form.
Moving down, his waist tapered into a V, complementing the robustness of his chest and arms. Chase's legs, powerful and well-defined, spoke of a disciplined regimen. The Texan's physique was a canvas of dedication and athleticism, each muscle telling a story of hard work and determination.
Caught in the details, I found myself appreciating not just the external aesthetics but the undeniable strength that underlined every aspect of Chase's body. The unexpected allure of his physique added a layer of complexity to the charged atmosphere, turning a playful banter into an unspoken connection that hinted at desires beyond the surface.
Caught in the charged atmosphere of the room, a sudden realization hit me – I wanted Chase. The shift from banter to an unspoken tension lingered in the air. His wholesome charm had worked its magic, and in that moment, I found myself drawn to more than just his laughter and banter.
I couldn't resist a flirtatious remark, a sly grin playing on my lips. "You know, Huxley, those shorts look good on you, but I have a feeling you'd make anything look good."
Chase, caught off guard, blushed, his boyish charm momentarily replaced by a bashful demeanor. The atmosphere shifted, and I continued the playful banter. "Must be that southern glow – hard to resist."
He chuckled nervously, "Well, Boston, you're not too shabby yourself."
I shot Chase a playful grin. "Huxley, spill the secret – what's your glute workout? Those things are like works of art."
Chase laughed, appreciating the compliment. "Well, Boston, it's a mix of squats, lunges, and a whole lot of dedication."
Impressed, I flexed my biceps, "Speaking of dedication, your arms got me reevaluating my workout routine." I grinned, knowing that my own arms were thicker and veinier than his.
Chase, not one to back down, reached out with a smile, feeling the contours of my biceps. "Solid work, man. What's your secret?"
The room buzzed with a playful energy as our camaraderie evolved into an unexpected exchange of admiration. Fingers traced over muscles, an unspoken language of shared dedication and mutual appreciation unfolding in the charged atmosphere.
An unspoken shift occurred. Caught in the charged atmosphere, Chase and I found ourselves drawn closer. Playfully, our hands reached out, exploring each other's bodies with a shared sense of curiosity and admiration. Fingers traced along shoulders, grazed over well-defined arms, and lingered on the contours of chests and abs. It was an intimate exchange, absent of competition, where the tactile connection became a dance of shared appreciation.
Chase, with a casual curiosity, asked me a question that took me by surprise. "Ever been with another guy before, Boston?"
For the first time that night, a hint of nervousness colored my response. "Nah, never ventured there. Always had one girl after the other hanging on to me, never needed to think about tapping into the other pool, you know?"
Talking about this shit felt strangely vulnerable, a departure from the alpha male bravado I usually projected. I explained, "I've always been naturally kinda dominant,, and saw other dudes more as competition for women than anything else."
With a mischievous grin, I teased Chase, "Huxley, I've got a feeling you're more of a beta. Bet you secretly fantasize about getting dominated…maybe by someone like me."
Chase shot back with a laugh, "Boston, you're full of it. Fuck off with that nonsense."
However, the telltale signs of a blush betrayed his playful retort, and the charged atmosphere took on a flirtatious edge. The banter danced on the line between teasing and a shared acknowledgment.
The banter took a sudden turn as I smoothly pinned Chase against the wall. His eyes widened with a mix of surprise and anticipation. A charged energy enveloped us, and I couldn't help but lean in.
"Huxley," I said with a low chuckle, "you feeling the vibe?"
Chase, a bit nervous yet intrigued, admitted, "Alright, Boston, you've got something that's hard to resist."
The atmosphere crackled with an unspoken tension, the playful banter evolving into a more intimate exchange. The proximity between us hinted at desires beneath the surface, leaving the room filled with an unpredictable energy.
The charged atmosphere reached its peak as I closed the gap between Chase and me, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Chase weakly attempted to push me away, muttering a protest, but as our lips met in that passionate kiss, a palpable vulnerability emerged. His resistance melted away, knees going weak as he found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull.
Chase, caught in the intensity of the moment, felt a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, the physical manifestation of the heat that engulfed him. His skin seemed to burn hot, every inch radiating with a feverish intensity. The pulse of desire surged through his entire body, a rhythm that matched the rapid beating of his heart. The charged atmosphere left him in a state of palpable anticipation, each sensation heightened in the throbbing heat of the moment.
With a knowing grin, I couldn't help but acknowledge the familiar territory. Countless times, I had found myself in a similar position with girls, each encounter leaving them as my conquests, yearning for more the next day. The playfulness and allure of the night had a sense of déjà vu, a narrative I knew all too well. Chase was all mine tonight.
In a fleeting moment, I pulled away from our kiss, a breathless pause to admire Chase’s beautiful face. Holding him gently by the chin, I locked eyes with him, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that had ignited between us.
Suddenly, I shift gears. I grab Chase by the throat and push him back against the walls. Sliding my hand down, I grip the collar of his plain white tshirt and then rip it in half.
Chase, caught off guard, exclaimed, "What the fuck?" The element of surprise painted across his face, uncertainty mingling with a touch of disbelief.
I ignored him and smiled arrogantly as I slowly caress my already-shirtless muscled torso. Then I slid my pants off, revealing a too-tight pair of Armani trunks struggling to contain my massive bulge.
I notice that Chase is practically drooling, staring at my junk. I chuckled, “you frickin perv,” barely noticing the irony in my own statement.
“You want this?” I ask. Chase stared back at my junk, almost drooling as he subtly nodded.
I slowly take several steps back then put my arms behind my head. “Then get on your fucking hands and knees and crawl to daddy.”
Chase looked up at me, confused and unsure if he should follow my orders. But I just smirked and waited patiently, enjoying the power trip. Finally, Chase got on his hands and knees and started crawling towards me.
As he crawled closer, I noticed how his ass looked so perfect in those tight jeans. It was like an art piece, the way the fabric hugged his curves and contours. I couldn’t help but appreciate the view. Once he was close enough, I grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.
"I said to look at me," I growled, making sure he knew who was in charge. Chase nodded obediently, his eyes fixed on mine. I could see the fear in them, but also a hint of excitement. It turned me on even more. "Good boy," I said, stroking his cheek gently.
"What do you want me to do?" Chase asked nervously, his voice trembling slightly. "I want you to suck my cock," I replied, my voice low and commanding. Chase's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't hesitate to obey.
He knelt down in front of me and began to unbuckle my belt. "That's it," I said, my voice thick with desire. "Take off my pants." Chase obeyed, pulling down underwear in one swift motion. My 7.5 inch cock sprang free, hard and throbbing with anticipation.
Chase looked up at me, his eyes wide with awe. "Suck it," I commanded, my voice rough with need. Chase hesitated for a moment, but then he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around my shaft. His mouth felt warm and wet, and his tongue swirled around the tip, sending shivers down my spine.
I moaned softly, my fingers tangled in his hair. "That's it," I said again, my voice low and husky. "Suck my cock like a good little slut." Chase obeyed, taking me deeper into his mouth with each stroke. His tongue swirled around my shaft, teasing and tantalizing me.
I could feel his throat muscles working as he swallowed me whole, and it was almost too much to bear. "Fuck," I groaned, my hips bucking against his face. "You're such a good little cocksucker." Chase moaned around my cock, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine.
I used my toes to pull down his shorts. As I did pushed the waistband down, Chase help me along, pulling his shorts and jockstrap down and slipping out of them—all the while keeping my thick cock inside his slobbering mouth.
"You like that, don't you?" I asked, my hands tangling in his hair. He moaned again, and I could feel his tongue swirling around the head of my cock. "Fuck," I groaned again, my hips bucking against him. I pulled out of his mouth with a pop and he looked up at me with those big blue eyes, pleading for more.
I grabbed him by his hair and ordered him to open his mouth wide. As he did, I aimed a wad of spit in shot it into his mouth. His eyes widened in suprise. I gently smacked his cheeks a couple times and chuckled.
“I thought them southern boys were taught their manners! Kinda rude of you to not even thank me for lubing your throat bro…”
Before Chase could respond I grabbed him firmly by the hair and pulled his face into my musky balls. “Come worship my balls bro.”
To my suprise, his did. Chase inhaled the masculine, sexual scent of my manhood and then rubbed his cheek against my balls like a true fag. I couldn’t believe it! A few moments again I was talking to a total stud; a Texas jock that girls were eyeing, hoping he’d take them home and dick them down. Now? He was nothing but a cheap whore, rubbing himself against a real man’s junk.
He started licking my sweaty balls, taking in my salty ball sweat. “Oh my god, you’re a nasty fucker.” I pulled him off my balls and slapped his cheeks twice, then shoved my cock deep into his throat making him gag.
I face fucked Chase mercilously, surprised he could take my dick all the way. No chick had been able to do this before. This was fucking incredible! It felt amazing and took all my willpower to occasionally let the jock boy catch a breath.
After a few minutes of face fucking, I had to let go and pull out to avoid cummjng before I was ready to. A line of drool hung past Chase’s chin. His hair was damp with sweat and his cheeks were reddened from the slaps. Hah! I bet he smells like my balls right now too. What a fucking slut.
"You want more?" I asked, my voice low and rough. He nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with desire. I pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, my cock pressing against his entrance. "Tell me what you want," I demanded, my voice husky with lust.
"I want you to fuck me," he said, his voice trembling with need. "I want you to take me and make me yours." I smiled, my eyes dark with desire. "That's what I'm going to do," I said, my voice low and rough.
I ordered Chase to get on his hands and knees. He looked so sexy positioned there on the ground. Like a doggy about to get mounted. I reached down and grabbed his hips, positioning myself at his entrance.
I used my tip to tease his hole, sliding it around, spreading precum mixed with saliva around the soft, pink entrance. “You on that fag medication”
Chase paused, confused. “The whaaa?”
“You know, that shit that dudes take so they can get fucked raw.” I press my cock against his hole a few times.
“Oh PREP? Yeah man I take that shit every day…is it okay if you still put a rubber on tho? I like to play safe.”
My heart sunk a bit! Shit! A few of my buddies fucked around with fags and the best was supposed to be how you could raw dog and creampie them without the risk of knocking them up. But whatever, I reached for a condom on my nightstand, put it on, and lube it up.
I positioned myself back behind Chase again and give him a hard smack on the ass.
I pulled his head back towards me and looked into his eyes, my own dark with lust. "Are you ready for this?" I asked, my voice a growl. He nodded, his eyes wide and filled with need. "Yeah bro take me," he said, his voice hoarse with desire. I pushed forward slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him opening up to me.
"Fuck, you feel so good," I said, my voice low and rough. "You're such a good little slut." He moaned again, his body arching up to meet mine. "Take my cock," I said, my voice husky with lust. He moaned, his body arching up to meet mine
Chase groaned, “ugh, not to fast…your too big…agh…tearing me apart man…” I covered his mouth and said, “shut the fuck up and take it like a good little bitch .”
I wrapped one arm around his neck and another around his torso and pound him hard and fast. His muscles felt so sexy and I enjoyed the heck out of groping his pecs and abs.
The little jock slut was whimpering and moaning as I fucked him like he was having the time of his life. It made me wonder how far I could push this. “You my bitch, Chase?” I smacked his ass hard and increased the pressure of my my arm around his throat.”
“Ughhhh…oh…fuck..yeah…whatever you want…Im yours…fuck…fuck oh use me!”
Shit. He was getting into this. I couldn’t believe this stud I’d met at a party could so quickly turn into a pathetic whimpering fag. I took the sharpie marker I’d set down when I grabbed the condoms and opened it.
I pushed Chase forward until he was back on his hands and knees and ordered him to stay still. “Yeah, well I’m gonna mark you as my bitch so everyone can know.”
I pressed the marker tip onto the taught skin on his muscled shoulder blades and wrote across his strong back: “Property of Matt Adams.”
Then on his butt cheeks I sloppily scrawled: “CUM DUMP” and laughed.
Chase asked, “Dude what the fuck are you writing on m—-“ Suddenly, I jammed my cock back into him hard and bottomed out in one thrust, causing him to loudly moan. In surprise, his hands gave out and his face fell to the floor.
I gripped both his hands and pulled them back towards my hips as they vigorously thrust into his battered ass. Chase whimpered loudly in ecstatic pleasure mixed with a bit of pain.
It was an incredibly power trip. Before me was a total jock stud. A wrestling standout. A rugby star. And he was now just having to rest on his knees, bent over, taking a stronger man’s superior cock like a bitch. My bitch.
There was nothing that could compare to this feeling of conquering another jock, asserting your superiority over him, and turning him into a beta. Eventually, Chase reached a limit. “Ugh fuck, please…too big…you’re fucking me so hard, bro…please…slow down a bit…agh…need…need a break…”
My carnal instincts wanted to ignore him and fuck him into the ground. But I knew I needed to give the poor boy a breach. After all, I’d never fucked anyone nearly that hard in my life before. If it was a girl, or a weaker man instead, I probably would’ve broken them several minutes ago.
I pulled out and leaned over, pressing my sweaty pecs and abs over his back. I sniffed his hair, then Kissed him on the neck. I kept kissing and he turned his pretty face for me. I licked some sweat off his smooth red cheeks then made out with him for a couple minutes. My tongue tangled with his as we passionately caressed each other with our tongues.
We popped up into my bed and I entered him again, missionary style this time. This time I tried to hold myself back, fucking him slow and sensually, making him writhe with pleasure. It wasn’t all altruistic—this felt so good that I wanted it to last so I needed to keep myself from cumming to soon.
I tweaked his nipples and caressed his ripping muscles. His legs wrapped around my back and his hands gripped my strong, defined shoulders and triceps. We made out for a bit as I fucked him slowly, my greedy mouth enveloping his, which was equally as enthusiastic.
I broke this kiss and stared into his eyes almost like a lover. “Chase, do you trust me?”
He flustered for a moment, then responded, “y-yeah. Yeah I trust you.”
“I wanna cum inside you, baby. I wanna get closer to you, feel you against my bare skin. You want that too?”
Chase averted his eyes, then looked back up at me. I softly caressed his face. He breathed in, then replied, “yeah, I want it.”
“FUCK YEAH.”
I pulled out, ripped that condom off, and pushed back in one stroke, making Chase gasp loudly. Quickly, I muffled his moans with my hand.
Then I bent over and began licking and sucking the slutty jock nipples, tasting the salty sweat coating his round, perky areolas. I pulled up and began fucking Chase hard and fast again. “Fucking wrestling star all pinned down and spreading his legs for a real man. You like that? Like that you’ve become a personal sex doll for a true alpha male?”
I stroked Chase’s dick a couple of times as I spoke. Chase was too fuck-drunk to reply, letting out inaudible stutters instead. Within a few seconds of stroking his cock, it pushed him over the edge and he shot several spurts of cum over his own face, pecs, and rock-hard abs.
“Damn! This guy’s a two-pump chump,” I thought to myself. Seeing Chase jizz all over his own pretty face turned me on immensely. I pushed him down against the bed hard as I slammed and pounded into him as hard as I could, shooting my hot load deep inside him. I imagined I was knocking him up with my babies.
I collapsed on top of him. We lay there, both out of breath and panting for a moment. Then, I pulled out. A dribble of cum leaked out of his well-used ass.
And intriguing thought crossed my mind.I brought my cock to Chase’s face and deviously ordered, “Lick it up,” not thinking he’d take me seriously. But to my surprise, he did, pausing at first, but then hesitantly wrapping his lips around my girthy cock. A few seconds later, he was slurping the jizz off my cock and savoring the taste of his own ass like it was fucking ice cream or something. What a slut!
Soon after, we layed in my bed with Chase cuddled up against my hairy chest like some chick or something. I looked over at him and noticed he was soft asleep, his chest peacefully rising and falling. Before I dozed off too, I set my alarm to go off in two hours.
Using Chase was fucking amazing and I wanted to do it again before the party was all over. I planned to fuck that hot piece of ass in the living room, in front of my bro’s. I wanted everyone there to see how I took a prime piece of jock stud and turned him into my personal bitch.
A satisfied feeling filled my chest as I too, drifted into slumber, catching some rest for what would soon be the longest, hardest fuck sesh of my life.
End of Chapter 1. Hope you all enjoyed this! Thank you for reading!
For Chase’s backstory, check out Turning Chase.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
