Morning sunlight slid across the living room couch where Jack had crashed, sprawled in nothing but his boxers. His hair was a mess, his chest still sweaty from last night, and his ass felt like someone had swapped out his glutes for two bricks.
Ethan padded out of the bedroom, already in his gym shorts and tank, shaking a protein shaker like it was a maraca. He caught sight of Jack stretching gingerly and immediately smirked.
“Bro…” Ethan’s grin went ear to ear. “You’re walking like you just did max deadlifts with no warmup.”
Jack groaned and flopped back against the couch.
“Correction, bro—you did the deadlifting. With my ass.”
Ethan nearly spit his shake.
“Dude, don’t say that while I’m drinking. I’ll choke.”
Jack smirked, running a hand down his abs, deliberately slow.
“Pretty sure you weren’t complaining last night when you were, y’know, spotting my glutes with your… barbell.”
Ethan flexed his arm, grinning.
“Yeah, bro, perfect form. Smooth thrusts, full range of motion. I should start coaching guys on that.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, shifting his hips just enough to make his half-hard bulge twitch against the thin fabric of his boxers.
“Coach, huh? You realize your star player can barely sit without clenching right now.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked down, lingering just a second too long before he smirked.
“Bro, don’t tempt me before the gym. You’ll be waddling through squats like a baby deer.”
Jack laughed, dragging himself up and grabbing his gym shorts off the floor.
“Fine. But if I collapse under the bar today, it’s on you. ‘Cause let’s be real—my ass cheeks are already overtrained.”
Ethan chuckled and tossed him a clean tank.
“Good thing we’re bros. I’ll spot you on bench, then stretch you out after.”
Jack caught the shirt, pulled it on, and winked.
“Stretch me out, huh? Careful, coach. You might have to ice my glutes again.”
They both cracked up, the kind of laugh only guys who’d crossed way past the “just bros” line could share. Still grinning, they grabbed their bags and headed out, sunlight glinting off their pumped arms, both of them already half-hard just from the banter.
The clang of plates and the smell of chalk filled the air as Jack and Ethan walked into the gym, duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Both were already laughing, their banter carrying louder than it should’ve.
Ethan spotted the squat rack and nudged Jack.
“You up first, bro? Bet your ass is still tender from my PR last night.”
Jack rolled his eyes but smirked.
“Bro, keep talking. If I collapse mid-squat, you’re catching me bridal style.”
They fist-bumped, and Jack slid under the bar, hips moving just a bit too slow and deliberate. Ethan noticed. His grin widened.
“Dude, you’re grinding the bar like it’s a lap dance.”
Jack snorted through the rep.
“Better than grinding your bar again, bro.”
A cough behind them made them glance over. Zack, another gym regular, stood with his shaker bottle and a smirk. Big chest, bigger ego.
“Damn,” Zack said, raising an eyebrow. “You two sound more like a couple than training partners.”
Ethan laughed it off, clapping Jack’s shoulder.
“Nah, man. Just bros. You know how it is—locker-room talk.”
Zack crossed his arms.
“Locker-room talk doesn’t usually sound like… that. ‘Grinding bars,’ ‘walking funny’—what kind of workout are you running at home?”
Jack racked the bar, standing tall. He flashed a cocky grin.
“The kind that gets results, bro. You jealous?”
A couple of lifters nearby snickered. Zack’s ears reddened.
“Jealous? Please. I don’t need some dude spotting my glutes.”
Ethan leaned against the rack, smirking.
“Bro, you wish you had someone spotting your glutes. Look at you—mirror selfies, no spotter, no pump buddy. That’s the gayest thing in here.”
The other lifters laughed harder. Zack’s jaw clenched. He tried to recover.
“Whatever, man. I don’t need another dude touching me.”
Jack smirked, wiping sweat off his chest with his tank and letting his abs show just enough.
“Bro, you spend more time flexing your pecs at yourself than anyone else. Pretty sure your reflection’s your boyfriend.”
The room broke out in “oooooohs.” Zack turned beet red, fumbling with his shaker bottle. He muttered something about “getting his set in” and stormed toward the cable machine, ignoring the side-eyes and muffled laughs.
Ethan leaned in close to Jack, low enough so only he could hear.
“Bro… we didn’t even have to try. Dude outed himself.”
Jack grinned, biting back a laugh.
“Yeah, bro. Guess we’re still the most awesome duo in here.”
They finished their sets with extra swagger, throwing in more inside jokes just to watch Zack twitch from across the room. When they finally headed out, their arms pumped and their shorts sticking to sweat, Ethan clapped Jack’s back.
“Bro, I swear—every time someone tries to call us out, they just end up looking like they’re the ones craving the locker-room dick.”
Jack laughed, opening the apartment door when they got back.
“Guess we’re bulletproof, bro. Now, how about that… active recovery we talked about?”
Ethan’s grin was downright hungry.
“Hell yeah. Premium service, round two.”
They dropped their bags, the door clicked shut, and the apartment instantly felt charged again.
Back at the apartment, both of them dropped onto the couch like they’d just survived war. Protein shakes in hand, sweat still drying, the room smelled like gym bags and testosterone.
Ethan stretched out, groaning, his tank clinging to his chest.
“Bro, my legs are toast. And my ass? Still feeling yesterday. We keep railing each other like this, and I’m gonna need a wheelchair.”
Jack laughed, tipping his shaker back.
“Bro, no joke—you’re walking like I stole your glute gains. Maybe we call it a truce on the whole… deep-core workouts.”
Ethan arched a brow, smirking.
“What, you getting sore too, huh? Couldn’t handle my PR?”
Jack shot him a look.
“Shut up, bro. I’m just saying… maybe we mix it up. Give the glutes a recovery day.”
Ethan sat forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Aight, what’re you thinking then? We’re not just gonna sit here and hold hands, bro.”
Jack leaned back, grinning.
“Contest.”
That one word had Ethan grinning too.
“Oh, hell yeah. You know I’m always down to smoke you in a contest. What’s the game?”
Jack dragged his tongue across his teeth, then smirked.
“Blowjob contest. See who’s actually the better bro at head.”
Ethan barked a laugh, nearly spilling his shake.
“Dude… that’s so gay.”
Jack smirked back, eyes daring.
“Yeah, bro. That’s the point. Winner gets bragging rights. Loser… swallows his pride.”
Ethan shook his head, grinning wider.
“You’re insane. But I’m in. How we judging this? ‘Cause it’s not like one of us can say, ‘Oh yeah, I’m better.’ That’s biased as hell.”
Jack tapped his phone against his thigh.
“We film it. Each of us takes a turn going down. Then we re-watch and score it after. Like instant replay.”
Ethan snorted, clutching his stomach.
“Bro, you want us to make a damn highlight reel? ESPN: Erotic Sports Porn Network.”
Jack laughed so hard he slapped the couch.
“Exactly! Instant replay. Commentary. Hell, we can even slow-mo the finishes if we gotta.”
Ethan leaned in close, eyes burning with playful challenge.
“Fine, bro. But I swear—I’m gonna make you moan so loud you can’t even fake-judge it.”
Jack smirked, flexing his jaw.
“Then may the best bro win.”
They fist-bumped, the deal sealed
They were sprawled across the couch, both still sweaty from the gym, still buzzing from the idea of what they’d just agreed to. The air felt heavy with unspoken challenge, like the living room had turned into an arena.
Ethan leaned back, stretching his arms wide, chest rising under the cling of his tank. His smirk was cocky as hell.
“So, bro… who’s gonna be the first contestant on America’s Next Top Cocksucker?”
Jack snorted, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at his chest.
“Dude, you’re way too eager to get your dick wet. Bet you’ve been dreaming about me choking on it since the gym.”
Ethan caught the pillow, squeezing it against his lap—half shield, half joke, but the bulge in his shorts wasn’t exactly subtle.
“Bro, don’t flatter yourself. But hey, if you’re scared to go first, I’ll take the honors.”
Jack’s eyes dragged over Ethan’s spread thighs, the way his cock was starting to press harder against the fabric. He felt his own gym shorts tighten, heat crawling up his neck.
“Scared? Please, bro. I just don’t wanna set the bar so high you can’t recover.”
Ethan chuckled low, licking his lips in that way that was half-taunt, half-unconscious hunger.
“Alright then. Let’s settle it like men. Rock, paper, scissors.”
Jack laughed, shaking his head.
“Only you would use middle-school rules to decide who gets a blowjob first.”
Ethan leaned forward, eyes locked on his.
“Bro, trust me—it’s the only fair way. Unless you’d rather arm-wrestle for the right to suck my cock.”
Jack groaned, rolling his eyes, but he couldn’t help grinning.
“Fine. Rock, paper, scissors. Best two outta three.”
They held out their fists, counting off in unison. First throw—tie. Second throw—tie again. The tension thickened, both of them laughing too hard for the third round. Finally, Jack threw scissors, Ethan threw paper.
Ethan groaned, throwing his head back.
“Fuck, bro. You win. Guess I’m up first.”
Jack smirked, sliding closer on the couch, his thigh brushing Ethan’s.
“Damn right. Get those shorts down, bro. Time for me to show you how it’s done.”
Ethan spread his legs wider, the tent in his gym shorts straining, cock practically begging to be freed. His voice dropped low, cocky but edged with a rasp of need.
“Alright, Jack. Don’t choke under pressure. Literally.”
Jack’s mouth watered at the sight, his own cock twitching in his shorts. He leaned in close, lips brushing Ethan’s ear as he whispered with a grin:
“Bro… you’re about to find out I’m MVP material.”
Ethan leaned back into the couch, legs spread wide, gym shorts tugged down just enough for his cock to spring free. And there it was—thick, hard, already leaking at the tip like it had been waiting all day for this moment.
Jack swallowed hard. Up close, Ethan’s cock felt bigger than it ever looked through fabric, like some kind of challenge on its own. Smooth skin stretched tight over thick veins, the head flushed red, glistening. It pulsed, bobbing slightly with each beat of Ethan’s heart—like it knew Jack was staring, and it wanted attention.
Ethan smirked, catching Jack’s hesitation.
“What’s the matter, bro? You scared of it?”
Jack snorted, though his throat was dry.
“Scared? Bro, your dick’s acting like it’s got its own personality. Look at it—straight up flexing at me.”
Ethan laughed, the sound low and smug.
“Yeah, bro. He likes the spotlight. Better show him some respect.”
Jack leaned in, lips parting as his breath brushed over the swollen head. The faint salty tang of Ethan’s pre-cum hit his tongue when he licked across the tip, slow, teasing. The taste made his chest tighten with heat, cock straining in his own shorts.
Ethan groaned, hips twitching.
“Fuck, bro… tongue on the tip? You trying to kill me already?”
Jack grinned up at him, then wrapped a hand around the base, steadying it. The weight filled his grip, thick and heavy, throbbing like it was alive. His lips slid over the head, sucking just enough to pull another moan out of Ethan. The sound shot straight through him, making his own cock ache for friction.
“Damn, bro…” Ethan’s voice was ragged now, eyes half-lidded as he looked down at him. “Didn’t know you’d suck dick like a fuckin’ pro.”
Jack answered by taking him deeper, jaw stretching as Ethan’s cock slid past his lips. His throat tightened around it, gag reflex flaring for a second, but he pushed through, letting it sink in further. The heat, the stretch, the raw masculine weight of it—it was overwhelming and intoxicating all at once.
Ethan’s hand dropped to his shoulder, fingers digging in as he groaned, head falling back against the couch.
“Shit, Jack… fuck, bro… don’t stop. That mouth’s dangerous.”
Jack moaned around the cock filling him, sending vibrations up Ethan’s shaft. He pulled back just enough to breathe, spit slicking the skin, before diving back in, bobbing faster, his hand twisting around the base in rhythm. Pre-cum and spit mixed, coating his lips, the taste salty and raw, like sex itself.
Ethan’s thighs trembled, his cock swelling harder, twitching in Jack’s grip.
“Fuck… fuck, bro, I’m close—”
Jack sucked harder, tongue swirling around the tip, hungry for the finish. Ethan’s cock jerked, and then it happened—hot ropes of cum shooting across Jack’s tongue, flooding his mouth in thick, salty spurts.
Ethan groaned loud, muscles locking as he emptied himself, cock throbbing with each release. Jack swallowed greedily, the taste coating his throat, dripping down his lips. He kept sucking, milking every drop until Ethan sagged against the couch, panting, cock twitching weakly in his mouth.
Jack pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he caught his breath.
“Bro… your cock wasn’t lying. Thing had a whole fuckin’ personality.”
Ethan, still breathless, managed a crooked grin.
“Yeah? And you just gave it the VIP treatment.”
Jack chuckled, sitting back and licking his lips, still tasting Ethan on his tongue. His own cock throbbed hard in his shorts, aching for its turn.
“Alright, bro. Round 1’s done. You ready to return the favor? ’Cause my dick’s ready for its spotlight.”
Jack was sprawled on the couch, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still catching his breath. His chest rose and fell in deep pulls, sweat cooling along his collarbone. Ethan was stretched out next to him, one arm thrown over his face, groaning dramatically like he’d just survived a car crash instead of a blowjob.
“Damn, bro,” Ethan finally said, his voice muffled. “You nearly sucked my soul out through my dick. I legit saw stars.”
Jack grinned, a lazy, satisfied grin. “That’s ‘cause I got skills, man. Symmetry. You pound my ass, I work your cock like it owes me rent. Balance restored.”
Ethan let out a wheezy laugh and tilted his head. “Balance, my ass. Pretty sure I won that round. Your knees were shaking like a baby deer.”
Jack sat up, flexing his arms behind his head, deliberately showing off the sheen on his abs. He let his grin sharpen. “Shaking ‘cause I was milking every drop, bro. Precision. Technique. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Wouldn’t understand?” Ethan scoffed, sitting up too, their bare shoulders bumping. “My cock’s a damn legend. People should write sonnets about it. I don’t even gotta try and it’s already the main event.”
Jack reached down and gave Ethan’s cock a playful smack, making it twitch. “Oh, I understand. But now it’s my turn to be on the receiving end. Let’s see if that ‘legend’ mouth of yours can live up to the hype.”
Ethan smirked, leaning in close, so close Jack could feel the ghost of his breath against his lips. “You talk big for a dude who’s about to be whining and begging in, like, two minutes.”
“Two minutes? Please.” Jack’s voice dropped into a cocky purr. “I’m lasting at least ten. Minimum. I’m gonna have you working up a sweat down there, bro.”
They were practically chest to chest now, the heat between them thrumming, laughter and tension tangled up tight. Ethan dragged his hand slowly down Jack’s stomach, deliberately brushing every ridge of his abs, before curling his fingers around the thick weight of Jack’s cock.
“Ten minutes, huh?” Ethan said, squeezing just enough to make Jack’s breath hitch. “Guess we’ll see about that.”
Jack swallowed hard, his grin faltering just a bit as Ethan gave a slow stroke. “Y—you better bring your A-game, man.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Ethan’s voice dropped low, his eyes gleaming as he shifted down between Jack’s thighs. “You’re about to find out why they call me a sucker punch.”
Jack laughed, a nervous, horny sound, spreading his legs wider on instinct. “No one calls you that, dude.”
“They will after tonight.”
Ethan knelt fully, positioning himself, lips just hovering over the flushed head of Jack’s cock—close enough that Jack could feel the heat of his breath, but not close enough to touch. The teasing made Jack’s thighs tense, anticipation coiling in his stomach.
Jack’s fingers gripped the couch cushions, knuckles white, as he stared down at Ethan smirking up at him.
And then—Ethan opened his mouth
Ethan’s mouth hovered over me like he was worshiping an idol, his breath warm, teasing, making every nerve in my cock twitch in anticipation. My cock felt alive—thick, heavy, throbbing, like it was beating its own rhythm separate from my heart. It knew what it wanted. It demanded it.
“Damn, bro,” Ethan murmured, almost reverently, giving the head a slow lick, tasting the first bead of pre-cum. “Your cock’s already begging, look at it.”
I couldn’t even speak—I just let out a low groan, hips jerking despite myself. My cock swelled harder in his grip, like it had a mind of its own, straining for his mouth.
Then Ethan wrapped his lips around the tip, and it was like plugging straight into a socket. Heat. Wetness. Pressure. My cock throbbed deep, sending shockwaves that rolled up my spine. My breath stuttered. My body locked up.
“Fuck—” I managed, fists gripping the couch cushions so hard my knuckles ached.
Ethan didn’t stop. He slid further down, his lips stretching around me, his throat opening as inch after inch disappeared into heat. My cock pulsed, thick veins dragging along his tongue, feeding on the suction like it was fuel. Every time his tongue swirled, my cock kicked, throbbing harder, hungry for more.
I could feel it—my cock loved this. Loved the tight, slick pull of Ethan’s mouth. Loved being swallowed, worshiped, owned. My whole body was just a passenger now, following the lead of this demanding, insatiable beast between my legs.
Ethan bobbed faster, spit running down his chin, his hand twisting the base in rhythm with his mouth. I could hear it—obscene, wet sounds that made my cock pulse like it was applauding his effort. He pulled off with a loud pop, strings of spit connecting us, and smirked up at me.
“Your cock’s a greedy bastard,” he said, giving it a slap with his tongue. “I can feel it throbbing like it’s about to blow already.”
“Shut the fuck up and—” My words cut off in a strangled groan as he swallowed me again, deeper this time, his throat squeezing my cockhead like a fist. My hips bucked. My cock swelled, harder than steel, veins bulging, every beat of my pulse hammering inside Ethan’s throat.
I was losing it. The heat in my gut spiraled tighter and tighter, my cock kicking like a wild animal caged in his mouth. My toes curled. My abs clenched. I could feel it building fast, the kind of cum that takes over your whole body.
“E-Ethan—” I gasped, voice breaking. “I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”
My cock throbbed violently, swelling inside his throat, every nerve screaming for release. I was right on the edge, so close it hurt, my body tensing up like a drawn bowstring—ready to snap.
Ethan pulled back just enough to let my cockhead slap wet against his tongue, smirking like he was in control. He gave my shaft a slow stroke, thumb circling the leaking slit, and just… waited.
My whole body trembled. My cock throbbed like it was going to split in two if he didn’t finish me.
“Bro…” I groaned, voice rough, hips jerking upward against his teasing grip. “Don’t fucking edge me like this. I need it.”
Ethan tilted his head, lips ghosting over the tip, hot breath making my cock twitch uncontrollably. “Need what, Jack?” he teased, voice smug. “Say it. Beg for it.”
I swore under my breath, every ounce of pride burning away under the ache in my cock. It pulsed hard in his hand, veins bulging, angry and desperate, begging louder than I ever could.
“Please, bro,” I rasped, head dropping back against the couch. “Suck me. Make me cum. I can’t take it anymore.”
That was all he wanted. Ethan swallowed me down in one smooth motion, wet heat clamping around me, tongue swirling as his throat opened. The sensation was too much—tight, slick, obscene. My cock roared to life inside him, every vein surging, every nerve singing.
“Fuuuck, Ethan!” I shouted, hips slamming up as he bobbed fast, his hand twisting the base, milking me for everything. My balls drew tight, stomach clenching, and then it hit—
White-hot release exploded out of me, my cock kicking violently as I shot thick ropes down his throat. I groaned loud, guttural, every spurt draining me, my whole body seizing with the force of it. Ethan stayed locked on me, swallowing every pulse, every gush, his throat working around my cockhead like he was milking it dry.
By the time the last twitch faded, I was shaking, drenched in sweat, chest heaving. My cock still throbbed in his mouth, spent but proud, pulsing against his tongue as if claiming victory.
Ethan finally pulled off with a sloppy pop, licking his lips and smirking up at me. “Damn, bro. You begged like a champ. And your cock delivered.”
I slumped back against the cushions, half-laughing, half-gasping, my cock still twitching in his spit-slick hand. “Yeah… but round one? Definitely goes to you."
Ethan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then leaned back against the couch, smug as hell. My cock was still wet and half-hard, lying across my thigh like it was too proud to back down.
“Bro,” Ethan chuckled, chest still rising and falling, “you sounded like you were getting baptized in jizz.”
I threw a cushion at him, laughing weakly. “Shut up. You were edging me like a sadist. That wasn’t fair.”
“Hey, rules are rules,” he said, spreading his arms, cocky grin plastered across his face. “If begging’s a category, I think I won by default.”
I sat up, wiping sweat from my chest, smirking. “Yeah, but technique counts too. And my cock was singing, bro. You heard it. Hell, you felt it. You almost choked when I unloaded.”
Ethan snorted, shaking his head. “Please. Your cock was dramatic. Like, ‘Oh no, Ethan, I’m too full, I can’t hold it in!’” He pitched his voice high, mocking, then laughed so hard his abs clenched.
I couldn’t stop grinning, my cheeks sore. “Alright, Mr. Champion. We both know talking trash isn’t proof. There’s only one way to settle this.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, already knowing. “The tape?”
“The tape.”
We both broke into laughter, groaning as we pushed ourselves up from the couch, still sore, still sweaty, still riding the high. Ethan grabbed his phone from the counter, smirking like this was the Olympics.
“Bro,” he said, flipping it open and queueing up the file, “this is about to be the gayest film review ever.”
I slung an arm over his shoulder, cock still bouncing heavy as we stumbled toward the TV. “Yeah,” I grinned, “and the best.”
The screen lit up with the paused video, and we both leaned forward, eyes hungry, playful tension thick in the room.
Round one was over—but now came the judging.
The video flickered to life on the TV, filling the room with the unmistakable sounds of wet slurps and muffled groans. Ethan and I sat side by side on the couch, shoulders pressed together, eyes glued to the screen like critics at a film festival.
Onscreen, my mouth was wrapped around his cock, my head bobbing slow. His shaft gleamed under the light, fat and veiny, almost like it had its own stage presence.
“Damn, bro,” Ethan said, licking his lips unconsciously. “Look at your tongue on the tip right there. You were going all in.”
I laughed, cheeks heating, but my cock started swelling again. “Yeah? Your face says it all, man. You were straight-up moaning like a pornstar.”
Onscreen, Ethan grabbed the back of my head, thrusting just enough to make my throat flex. Ethan whistled low, nudging me. “Bro, I made you gag right there. That’s points in my column.”
“Points?” I snorted, shifting as my cock pressed against my shorts. “That’s endurance, man. I kept it down. That’s MVP shit.”
We both cracked up, but the laughter faltered when the video jumped to the second round—Ethan sucking me.
The camera had caught his lips stretching around my cockhead, his cheeks hollowing as he pulled me deep. My cock twitched at just the sight, remembering the pressure, the heat.
“Holy shit,” I muttered, voice dropping. “Bro, look at you. You’re—fuck.”
Ethan smirked, smug but also biting his lip as he watched himself slobber up my shaft. “Yeah, I’ll admit… I look pretty good with a mouthful of your cock.”
My cock strained hard against my shorts, pre already wetting the fabric. I shifted, groaning. “Bro… we can’t even get through the replay without round three.”
Ethan leaned close, his breath hot on my ear. “Who says we need to finish the replay?”
I turned, our lips brushing, and then we were kissing hard—desperate, messy, half-laughing as our hands found each other’s cocks, jerking slow while the TV behind us kept playing the sounds of our own moans.
The video became background noise. The real show was happening again, right there on the couch.
Ethan shoved me back into the couch cushions, straddling me for a second like he owned the space. My cock was already standing hard in my gym shorts, a throbbing beast begging to get out. Every twitch against the fabric felt like it was calling his name.
“Damn, bro,” he muttered, eyes locked on the bulge. “Your dick’s straight-up yelling at me right now.”
I laughed breathlessly, tugging his shorts down to free his cock. His dick sprang up, fat and flushed, pre already pearling at the tip like it had been waiting for this exact moment. It stood there proud, flexing, like it knew it was about to get worshipped.
“Look at you,” I teased, licking my lips as I wrapped my hand around his shaft. His cock kicked in my grip, a living thing, and he groaned low in his chest. “All needy and shit. Bet you’ve been waiting for my mouth since the gym.”
“Not gonna lie, bro,” Ethan grinned, hips jerking into my fist, “I was spotting your squats earlier and all I could think was sitting on your face.”
That made me bark out a laugh—but my cock twitched so hard it smacked my abs. I shoved my shorts down, my own shaft slapping free, standing thick and eager. Pre drooled down the side, slicking me up. Ethan’s eyes locked on it, pupils blown wide.
“Fuck,” he whispered, reaching out like he couldn’t help himself. His hand wrapped around me, and my cock flexed hard in his grip like it was saying finally. I moaned, head falling back, but I grabbed his shaft too—we were both stroking, both leaking, both laughing under our breath at how ridiculously hot it was.
We didn’t even need to say it—we both dropped down at the same time, cocks slapping against our chests as we twisted onto our sides. My face was suddenly buried in Ethan’s lap, his cockhead brushing my lips, smearing pre across them. At the same time, his mouth hovered over my shaft, warm breath ghosting across my sensitive skin.
“Dude,” he chuckled, voice muffled against my dick, “this is so gay.”
I laughed around his tip, giving it a slow, teasing lick that made him grunt. “Shut up and suck, bro.”
And then we did—69, mouths full, hands gripping asses, our cocks the real stars of the show, straining and leaking into each other’s throats.
Ethan’s cockhead smeared against my lips, hot and sticky with pre. I opened up and let him slide across my tongue, the salty-slick taste hitting me right away. His dick was thick, alive, pulsing like it had its own heartbeat. I swear I could feel it flex with every breath I took.
At the same time, his mouth wrapped around my cock. Heat swallowed me whole—wet, tight, almost unbearable. My shaft kicked against his tongue, and I groaned straight into his length. My moan vibrated down Ethan’s cock, and his hips bucked like he couldn’t stop himself.
“Bro—fuck—” His voice broke around a mouthful of me, his lips stretching down my shaft.
I grabbed his ass to pull him closer, burying my face between his thighs. My tongue lapped at his slit, tasting him, swallowing every drop he leaked. His cock pulsed against my lips like it was begging for more, so I gave it—taking him deeper, letting the head slide across my throat until he moaned so loud it sent shivers straight through me.
Meanwhile, Ethan was going wild on my dick. He wasn’t just sucking—he was owning it. His tongue circled my head, teasing the ridge, then flattened to drag down my shaft while his lips clamped tight. My cock twitched hard, shooting another bead of pre straight onto his tongue. I couldn’t hold back the gasps, the curses, the helpless laugh at how wrecked he was making me.
“Fuck, bro—your mouth’s insane,” I panted, before swallowing him again, taking his cock down until my nose pressed against his sweaty abs.
The room was nothing but slick sounds—slurps, moans, wet chokes—and the sharp slap of our hips twitching as our cocks flexed and leaked for each other. Sweat dripped down my chest, slicking us where we pressed together, our abs rubbing as we writhed in perfect, dirty symmetry.
His balls swung against my chin. My own balls tightened as his hand cupped them, rolling them while his throat milked me. It was too much—every nerve lit up, every pulse building higher.
We were devouring each other, cocks straining, bodies shaking, both of us right on the edge.
Ethan groaned around my shaft, the sound buzzing through me so hard it made my vision blur. His tongue was relentless, dragging across every ridge, every sensitive spot, while his lips sealed me in tight heat. My cock throbbed so hard it felt like it was trying to punch out of his throat.
I doubled down, shoving my face into his groin, swallowing him to the root. His pubes brushed my nose, his sweat sharp on my tongue, his cockhead flaring as it hit the back of my throat. I moaned around him, and his hips stuttered, jerking like he was about to lose it.
“Fuck—bro—” I gasped, pulling off just long enough to lap up the stream of pre dripping from his slit. “You’re gonna make me bust.”
He just groaned, mouth stuffed full of me, and sucked harder.
My balls cinched tight, my whole body trembling. His hand pumped the base of my cock while his lips and tongue worked the rest, and it was over. I exploded down his throat, thick ropes spilling out of me in wave after wave. My hips bucked, cock jerking as each pulse sent more into his mouth.
At the same exact second, his cock kicked against my tongue. I felt it throb, then gush—hot, salty jets coating the back of my throat. He groaned deep, muffled around my dick, as he pumped his load straight into me.
We came together, cocks spasming, cum pouring into each other’s mouths. I swallowed greedily, sucking him through every pulse, every twitch. His cum smeared my tongue, my lips, dripped down my chin, but I didn’t stop until he was spent and shaking.
By the time I pulled off, gasping, my cock was still twitching in his mouth as he swallowed the last of me. We collapsed sideways, mouths wet, chests heaving, our bodies still pressed together with sweat and cum slicking our skin.
I laughed breathlessly, wiping my chin with the back of my hand.
“Bro… we just straight-up nuked each other.”
Ethan coughed out a laugh, cum still glistening at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, and I think I swallowed half your protein shake.”
I smirked, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss, our tongues tasting of each other’s cum.
“Good recovery fuel, bro.”
We both cracked up, tangled in each other, still trembling from the aftershocks.
We lay sprawled on the couch, legs tangled, both of us still sticky and sweaty. My cock gave one last lazy twitch against Ethan’s thigh, like it was proud of itself.
Ethan laughed softly, his chest still rising and falling hard.
“Dude… my throat feels like it ran a marathon. That was brutal.”
I smirked, running my hand absently over his abs, tracing the sheen of sweat down to his V.
“Yeah? My jaw’s straight-up cramped, bro. You got a monster down there. Should come with a warning label.”
He grinned, cock still semi-hard against my hip.
“Don’t act like you didn’t love it. You were begging me to finish you.”
I chuckled, squeezing his side.
“Okay, fair. You had me tapping out first. That’s the win, no doubt.”
He fist-bumped me without even sitting up.
“So, round one goes to me.”
I rolled onto my back, groaning as my muscles finally started to relax, pulling him halfway on top of me.
“Fine, but bro—the 69? That wasn’t a round. That was straight-up bonus content. Like, both of us winning at the same time.”
Ethan laughed, tucking his face into my neck. His breath was hot against my skin, but it felt good, grounding.
“Yeah, you’re right. That was like… reward mode unlocked.”
I kissed his sweaty temple before I could stop myself, then smirked when he looked up at me.
“Bro, we just found the cheat code.”
He snorted, but his arm tightened around me, like he didn’t mind being this close.
“Yeah. 69’s not even a contest, man. That’s just pure teamwork.”
We both cracked up, still clinging to each other, cum drying on our skin, but too wrecked to care.
We didn’t even bother getting dressed. Just lay there, tangled up on the couch, skin on skin, the air thick with sweat and the salty tang of cum. My cock was soft now, but still sticky against Ethan’s hip, and his balls rested warm and heavy on my thigh like they belonged there.
Ethan shifted, pressing his chest to mine, his skin hot and slick.
“Dude… feel that? My heart’s still pounding like I just PR’d deadlift.”
I slid a hand up his back, fingers tracing the sweat running down his spine.
“Yeah, bro. Same. It’s like cardio and yoga all rolled into one. Total-body workout.”
He chuckled, dropping his forehead against mine. His stubble scratched my skin, rough but weirdly comforting.
“Yoga, huh? More like… deep throat training and hip mobility.”
We both cracked up, but I kept my hand on his lower back, thumb brushing his waistband where his shorts were bunched. Couldn’t help it—it just felt natural now.
“Bro,” I murmured, half serious, half teasing. “If the guys at the gym saw us right now, they’d think we were… like…”
Ethan cut me off with a lazy smirk, eyes half-lidded.
“They’d think we’re killing recovery mode, that’s what. Look at us—cuddled up, heart rates down, testosterone maxed.”
I laughed, but damn if my chest didn’t feel tight at how good it felt to have him this close. His leg slid between mine, thigh pressing right against my cock, and even soft, I twitched at the contact.
“Bro, you’re all over me,” I said, but I didn’t push him off.
“Shut up,” he muttered, voice low, almost fond. “You’re warm. Feels good.”
For a second, neither of us spoke. Just heavy breathing, the smell of sweat, the faint sound of the fridge humming in the background. I let my hand drift lower, palm resting on the curve of his ass, firm from all those squats. He didn’t move it away.
Instead, Ethan gave me this crooked grin.
“Careful, man. You keep touching me like that, I might think you’re catching feelings.”
I grinned back, tightening my grip on his ass just to make him groan.
“Bro, relax. It’s just… recovery.”
He shook his head, laughing, then pressed his face into my neck again, breath hot, lips brushing my skin. Neither of us said anything about it.
We lay like that until the weight of the day—and everything else—pulled us under. Just two bros, naked, sweaty, cock-drained, holding onto each other like it was the most normal thing in the world.
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