The Morning After
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
It wasn’t long before Mason was asleep, sprawled out on his bed like a rag doll.
I stayed still in my own bed, listening carefully as Mason’s breathing got deeper and heavier, settling into a slow, even rhythm. His arm was draped across the bed, relaxed now, his fingers slack against the side of the bed. I could still remember the soft puff of his breath against the back of my neck when he’d used me, warm and damp with the lingering scent of alcohol . It felt strange lying in my bed next to him after what had just happened. Exciting, confusing, and a little bit scary, all at once.
A few minutes passed, but Mason didn’t move or say anything else. He was clearly asleep, his breathing loud and deep, occasionally broken by a low, drunken snore. My chest felt tight as I carefully slipped from under my sheets and edged out them towards my knees.
I glanced back at Mason. The moonlight through the window was dim, but it was enough for me to see him clearly. He lay sprawled out on his stomach, totally naked, looking peaceful and completely unaware of how much I was staring at him. I couldn’t help it—I’d never had him like this before, totally vulnerable and mine to look at.
My heart raced as my eyes followed the line of his back, his shoulders broad and perfectly shaped, tapering down toward his waist. His skin looked soft, almost glowing in the moonlight. I’d seen him shirtless plenty of times, at the gym, in the room changing, even goofing around in the halls, but this was different. There was nothing casual about this. He was here, naked in front of me because of what we’d just done.
My gaze drifted lower. Mason’s ass was perfect—firm, rounded muscle that made my throat feel tight and my cock twitch inside my briefs. I swallowed hard, feeling guilty and turned on all at once. It felt wrong to watch him sleeping, but I couldn’t make myself look away. Not now. My cock hardened fully, pressing uncomfortably against the fabric of my underwear.
I slid down onto my back and eased my briefs off, sighing quietly as my cock sprang free. I wrapped my fingers around myself, stroking gently at first, my eyes locked on Mason. He shifted slightly, turning just enough that I could see the outline of his cock resting against his thigh, soft but still impressive. The memory of his cock in my mouth flashed vividly through my mind, the heat of him, the way he tasted, the sounds he made as he used me. I shivered, pleasure and embarrassment mixing together into something I couldn’t resist.
I started stroking myself faster, my breath hitching slightly in the quiet of the room. I bit my lip, trying not to make any noise as I watched Mason sleep. He rolled a little more, fully onto his back now, leaving his naked body completely exposed to me. My heart jumped, my stomach flipping with excitement. His cock lay heavy and thick against his thigh, and even though he was soft, the size of it sent a hot wave of lust through my body.
I squeezed my cock harder, moving my hand faster as I imagined Mason waking up, catching me jerking off to the sight of him. Would he laugh at me? Would he get angry? Or would he smirk, knowing exactly what I was thinking, and maybe even join me again, rough and demanding like he’d been only a little while ago? The thoughts felt too real, too intense, and I was getting closer with every stroke, feeling myself leak and pulse into my palm.
My breath started coming faster, shorter. The thrill of watching Mason while he was completely unaware of me made it even more exciting. I knew it wasn’t fair, knew I was crossing some kind of line, but the ache in my cock was stronger than any sense of guilt. I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him using me again, pinning me down, his cock pushing into my mouth or maybe even somewhere else, controlling me, owning me.
The fantasy was too much. My cock throbbed hard in my hand, the muscles in my thighs tightening as I struggled to keep quiet. I came hard, biting my lip to keep from crying out, my cum spilling hot and messy across my stomach. My whole body shook, pleasure washing through me so strong that for a moment, everything else disappeared.
When it was over, I lay there panting quietly, my heart racing. I grabbed a discarded shirt off the floor and quickly wiped myself clean, tossing it back onto the ground. The afterglow of my orgasm felt good, but almost immediately a weird emptiness settled in too. I turned onto my side, looking again at Mason, still passed out, breathing deep and even.
I wondered if tomorrow morning would change anything. Would he wake up and smile at me, teasing me about tonight? Or would he just demand service like a drill sergeant? I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably at that thought. I wanted things to stay cool, even if I needed his cock again worse than anything. I needed them to.
Exhaustion crept up quickly, my body feeling heavy now, my eyelids drooping as I fought sleep. I took one last look at Mason’s naked body, letting the sight of him fill my vision before I finally let my eyes close. Sleep came faster than I expected, pulling me down into restless dreams full of Mason’s hands on me, his voice rough and demanding in my ear, and the warmth of his breath against my skin.
I woke up slow, the light through the blinds too bright, my body too warm. I was sticky with sweat, the sheets twisted around my legs, and my chest felt weirdly tight. It took me a second to remember where I was. And then it hit.
Last night.
My stomach knotted up, not in a bad way — not exactly — but in that nervous, twitchy kind of way where I didn’t know if I should be excited or horrified. I blinked up at the ceiling, then turned my head.
Mason was still asleep. Completely out. His head was tipped back slightly, mouth open, hair all over the place. One arm hung off the edge of the bed, the other flopped across his chest. He looked wrecked, but in that annoyingly perfect way only Mason could pull off. I couldn’t stop staring.
The blanket had slipped low, barely covering anything. His hip bone was visible, sharp and clean under his smooth skin. His stomach rose and fell in slow, even breaths, abs still tight even in sleep. I swallowed hard.
He didn’t look like someone who’d just used me the way he had. He didn’t look guilty, or confused, or anything at all. Just asleep. Normal.
I sat up slowly, trying not to move too much. My body ached a little. My throat was dry. I could still feel it — not just physically, but everywhere. His voice. His weight. The heat of his skin against mine. I wasn’t ready to let it go.
I stood and moved quietly toward my dresser. Grabbed a clean T-shirt and shorts. My briefs were somewhere under the sheets, and I didn’t feel like digging them out. I tugged the shirt over my head, still watching Mason from the corner of my eye. He didn’t stir.
I wondered what he’d do. If he’d wake up later and give me that cocky grin and say something like, “You liked that, didn’t you?” Or if he’d be too hung over to do much of anything. Probably the latter from the look of him, but I was hoping Mason would be up for another round.
My gymnastics team was turning me into such a slutty little fucker.
I grabbed my shower stuff and left the room without a sound.
The hallway was quiet. A couple doors open, someone playing music softly a few rooms down. I padded down to the showers, head buzzing the whole time. I turned the water on hot and stepped in, letting it hit my face for a while before I moved.
I didn’t know what I was feeling. Proud, maybe. Or embarrassed. Horny, definitely. But mostly just confused. Everything that happened last night had been so intense, and now it was like it existed in a different world.
I thought about the way Mason had looked at me when he pulled me down. That glazed-over focus, his fingers in my hair, the rawness of his voice. I thought about how I’d gotten hard the second I felt him pressing into my mouth. About how I hadn’t even questioned it — not once.
I was hard again now, obviously, but I didn’t jerk off. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to, or if I just wanted to stay in the memory a little longer. It felt like the second I came again, it would be over. Too far behind me to reach for.
When I finally stepped out of the stall, my skin was red from the heat. I dried off quickly and dressed without looking at myself in the mirror.
Breakfast tasted amazing. I hadn’t even realized how hungry I was until I sat down. I loaded my plate with eggs, toast, hash browns, and two slices of bacon, and by the time I got halfway through it, I was already reaching for more. Everything felt heightened. The food, the coffee, the morning light coming in through the windows. My body still felt warm in that lingering, post-sex glow, and my mind kept playing it all back on a loop.
Mason had used me. Fully. Finally. And unless I’d completely misread it, he’d liked it. He’d needed it. I grinned into my second cup of coffee, thinking about the way his voice had sounded. The weight of him. The grip of his hands in my hair.
I couldn’t wait to get back to the room. I didn’t know exactly what would happen next, but I was excited as fuck to find out.
When I got back to the room, the door was still locked. I pushed it open slowly, still half-hoping I’d find Mason stretched out waiting for me, cocky grin ready, like the night before had been the start of something. Maybe round two.
Instead, the lights were off and Mason was still in bed. His comforter had mostly slipped to the floor, one leg hanging out, his bare chest exposed to the daylight pouring in through the blinds. He didn’t look nearly as angelic as he had earlier. His face was pale and scrunched, like his skull was trying to hold itself together with the power of will alone.
I closed the door behind me and kicked off my shoes. That was when he stirred.
He made a sound, low and groggy, and squinted toward me without lifting his head. “Ugh. What time is it?”
“A little after eleven.”
He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. “I feel like I got hit by a truck.” His voice was rough, dry like sandpaper.
I laughed lightly, trying to keep it easy. “You kind of drank like someone begging to get hit by one.”
That got a faint smile out of him. “Fair.” He stretched a little, then winced, rubbing his temples. “God. How much did I even drink?”
“Enough to stink up the whole room,” I said, sitting on the edge of my bed.
He chuckled under his breath. “Awesome. That’s exactly what I was going for.” He stayed there for a minute, eyes closed, breathing shallow. “Thanks for not waking me up. I needed that.”
I looked at him, waiting. Nothing.
He opened his eyes again, squinting toward me. “Did you go to breakfast?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice. I could eat a mountain right now.”
I nodded. My stomach, full and still buzzing with nerves, suddenly didn’t feel as satisfied anymore. I glanced at him again. Still nothing.
He reached for his water bottle, took a sip, then flopped back onto his pillow. “I didn’t do anything too stupid, right?”
The question landed wrong. I stared at him. He looked genuinely unsure.
“You don’t remember getting back?” I asked carefully.
He shook his head slowly. “Sort of. I remember leaving the bar. Not much after that. Did I embarrass myself?”
I hesitated, my mouth going dry. “No. Not really.”
“Good,” he mumbled. “Guess I made it back in one piece.”
He scratched his chest, yawned, and settled deeper into the mattress like it was any other morning. I watched him for a few seconds, the weird pressure building behind my ribs. He wasn’t even looking at me now. He hadn’t said a word about last night. Not even a joke. No teasing. No hey, about what happened.
I waited a tick longer. Then another. The silence got heavy. It didn’t make sense. Not after how he’d touched me. Not after how he’d come down my throat.
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked over at me. “Sorry if I said something weird. I was wasted.”
That was all he offered.
I felt something sharp twist low in my stomach. I tried to laugh it off, but it came out thinner than I meant it to.
“You weren’t that bad,” I said. “Just a little... out of it.”
He smiled faintly and let his head drop back onto the pillow. “Classic.” Then, casually, “You didn’t let me sleep naked, did you?”
“You stripped yourself,” I said.
“Shit,” he laughed. “Figures.” He stretched again, and this time the blanket slipped lower, almost to his hip. He didn’t seem to notice.
I did.
I let the silence stretch between us as long as I could stand it. Mason had gone quiet again, one hand behind his head, the other lazily scratching at his chest. He looked totally at ease, not a single sign in his face or voice that he remembered anything about what we’d done. Nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I leaned back against the wall, trying to sound casual, like it wasn’t the only thing eating me alive. “So... do you remember coming in last night? Like, how drunk you were?”
He tilted his head a little, thinking. “Sort of. I remember leaving the bar, ditching that bitch Macy.” He snorted softly. “After she told me we weren’t gonna hook up she kept talking about how much she liked my jawline. Who does that?”
I tried to laugh, but it came out weak.
“I cut out before it got too lame,” he said, scratching his stomach. “I remember walking for a bit. I think I cut through campus, past the fountain or whatever. After that… nothing. I woke up here with a headache and no pants.”
He grinned at me like it was some big joke, like the night had just been a blackout blur and nothing more.
I nodded slowly, but the weight in my chest didn’t go away. “So… nothing after that?”
Mason shook his head, yawning. “Blank slate. Why? Did I puke?”
I shook my head, too quickly. “No, nothing like that.”
“Good,” he said. “Hope I wasn’t a dick. Sometimes I get kinda loud when I’m that gone. Was I annoying?”
I looked at him, heart sinking a little. “You weren’t bad.”
He smirked and sat up straighter, the blanket falling to his lap. “Still, waking up naked with no memory? Kinda makes me nervous.” He raised an eyebrow at me, teasing. “You didn’t perv on me or anything while I was out, did you?”
I managed a small laugh. “Nah. You’re not that hot.”
“Liar,” he said, grinning. “I’d perv on me if I wasn’t me.”
I rolled my eyes, pretending I wasn’t trying to keep my heart from falling out of my chest. It hurt more than I expected — knowing he didn’t remember, knowing it meant something to me and absolutely nothing to him.
Or maybe it had never meant anything in the first place. Maybe it really had just been a drunk blur. Just Mason getting off because I was there and available.
I wanted to believe he was lying. That he remembered everything and was just pretending. That maybe he didn’t know how to bring it up, or was testing me to see if I would. But the way he talked, the way he laughed about it, the way he looked at me like nothing had changed — it felt real.
Too real.
Mason rubbed his eyes again and stretched, the motion slow and lazy. His torso flexed without effort. He had no idea what effect his body was having on me. Or maybe he knew exactly and just didn’t care.
“I’m kinda pissed, honestly,” he said, sitting up straighter and cracking his neck. “I didn’t even get to take Macy home last night. That was the whole point of putting up with her weird bullshit.”
He looked over at me, grinning like it was just a funny story. “I had a whole plan. Take her back, get her on the bed, pull her shirt off slow… dude, she had this red bra on? Like stupid-hot. Lacy shit. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
I swallowed and nodded, trying to keep my face neutral. He kept going, like he was reading off a script he’d already played through a dozen times in his head.
“Her ass, too. Like, I had both hands on it when we were dancing. I was ready to wreck her.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Honestly, I’ve still got the whole scene in my head. Didn’t get to use it last night, so I might have to now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Now?”
Mason grinned wider. “Well, not right this second. Gonna go grab some food, drink a gallon of water, then come back here and take care of business. You know, while it’s fresh.”
He stood up, fully naked, and grabbed a towel from his chair like it was nothing. “Unless you wanna stick around and watch, you might want to be somewhere else when I get back.”
I let out a soft laugh, trying to play it cool. “I’ll be gone.”
But the idea stuck in my head. I didn’t know if he meant it as a joke, or if it was something more. The way he said it didn’t feel completely like teasing. It had a strange kind of ease to it, too natural. Like he knew I might actually want to.
As he stepped toward the door, he passed close — too close — and reached out at the last second to grip my pec. Not hard, just a light squeeze, firm enough to feel but casual enough to pass for a joke.
Then he winked. “I guess I’ll be seeing you later.”
And just like that, he was gone.
I stood there, staring at the door, my heart pounding. I couldn’t tell if he’d really forgotten everything or if that wink meant he remembered every second and just didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe this was just how Mason was. Carefree. Unbothered. Naked, grinning, horny, and walking around like none of it meant anything.
And maybe it didn’t.
But I wanted it to.
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