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© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
I stood there, confused, sweating now, and a little bit hard. It took me a minute to get myself under control and then I thought about it again. Mason. Last night. The weird, messy blur of him drunk and horny and using my mouth. Cumming down my throat like he’d done it a million times before then slipping away like it hadn’t happened at all.
He knew exactly what he’d done. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he’d been drunk enough that the memory was fuzzy, or even totally wiped. Maybe he’d woken up, realized he’d hooked up with a guy—a teammate—and panicked.
Or maybe he was messing with me, seeing how far he could push, how much I’d take before breaking. I groaned quietly, rolling over to press my face into the pillow. My brain wasn’t built for this kind of overthinking.
As I forced myself out of bed and into clothes, I kept replaying the moment Mason’s cock had touched my lips. The way he’d tasted, slightly sweaty from a night out at the bar but also so good. The way his hands felt when they grabbed me. But every good memory was chased by doubt. I didn’t know where I stood with him now. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to.
Breakfast was a blur. The caf was busy enough that no one paid me much attention, but I still felt like every laugh and conversation was about me. I picked at a soggy waffle and drank half an orange juice, my stomach twisting into uncomfortable knots. I was grateful I’d made plans with Irina to go to the mall later—it’d be good to get my mind off Mason and Casper, even if just for a few hours.
Irina and I had met at the gym a few weeks ago, and we’d clicked fast. She was funny, sharp, and refreshingly direct. I liked her a lot. She made me laugh, and after everything with Mason and Casper, laughter was something I desperately needed.
When I finished my sad excuse for breakfast, I dumped the tray and headed out, hoping to shake off the weird mood I was stuck in. My phone buzzed in my pocket just as I stepped outside. I tensed, half-expecting Mason’s name on the screen, but instead, it was Irina.
Ready to shop ‘til we drop? Meet you at the mall entrance in 20.
I smiled a little, relieved, tapping out a quick reply.
Be there soon.
Maybe this was exactly what I needed. A few hours with someone who didn’t complicate my life, someone who could help me sort through the mess in my head without even realizing she was doing it. If nothing else, I’d get new clothes and a distraction. Both felt equally necessary right now.
By the time I made it out to the campus shuttle, I’d managed to shove most of the Mason stuff into the back of my brain. Not all the way gone, but quieter. I had Irina to think about now.
We’d planned to hit the mall a couple times before but never actually followed through. Between gym schedules, her classes, and my own workouts with Casper, it just hadn’t lined up. Today felt like a good time for it though. I needed something normal.
I spotted Irina almost as soon as I got through the main entrance. She was already waiting by one of those smoothie places near the escalators, sipping something neon pink out of a tall cup. Her hair was tied up in that messy high ponytail she always wore when she wasn’t in competition mode, and she had on leggings and a crop top like she could head straight to a workout after this if she felt like it.
“Yo,” she said, flashing me a quick grin as I walked up. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.”
“Same,” I admitted. “Kind of needed the distraction though.”
Irina tilted her head a little, sizing me up. “Rough night?”
I shrugged, not quite sure how to answer. “Something like that.”
We started walking, drifting past shops. Irina talked about her last competition, a minor ankle tweak she’d worked through, and some new trainer she wasn’t quite sold on yet. I let her carry the conversation for a while. It felt good just listening to her. Easy. I wasn’t used to easy lately.
Eventually we ended up in one of those oversized sneaker stores. Irina was trying on white high-tops, checking herself out in the mirror.
“That guy of yours still around?” I asked casually.
Irina smirked. “Which one?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me ask.”
She laughed, standing up straighter in the mirror. “Yeah, he’s around. Still acting all mysterious, though. He’s been weird lately. Texts me random shit, then disappears for hours like he’s some secret agent.”
I leaned against a shelf, arms crossed. “You don’t mind?”
“I mean… kinda. It’s annoying. But that’s just how dudes are sometimes. You think they’re all locked in, then they go full ghost mode for no reason.”
That made my stomach tighten a little. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Mason or Casper.
I leaned against a shelf, arms crossed. “Doesn’t it bother you, though? Not knowing what’s going on in his head?”
Irina glanced at me, one shoulder lifting like it was nothing. “Nah. I’m used to it. That’s just how he is. He gets in his own head sometimes. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. Some guys just... process slower.”
I watched her in the mirror for a second, tightening the laces on the shoe like this was all casual for her. “But when he gets like that, he eventually comes back around?”
“Yeah.” She gave herself a quick once-over, smoothing a hand over her leg. “Usually acting like nothing happened. I used to get all stressed about it. Now I figure: if it’s important, he’ll say something.”
I nodded slowly, eyes dropping to the floor. “What about when he’s quiet for, like, days? Do you ever wonder if it’s about you? Like if you did something?”
Irina’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t answer right away. She grabbed the second sneaker, started pulling it on.
“Honestly? Early on, yeah. Now? Not really. I’ve learned guys can be weird as shit sometimes and it doesn’t always mean what you think it does.”
I let that sit for a second. Picked up a shoe off the shelf just to give my hands something to do. “You ever have it happen where... they get all up on you one minute, then act like you don’t exist the next?”
That’s when she paused, mid-lace. Looked right over at me.
“Okay. What’s with the deep dive? You’re asking a lot about my boyfriend all of a sudden.”
That grin spread fast. “Boy troubles?”
She was perceptive. Or maybe I was obvious.
I swallowed, heart kicking up a little. “Yeah, uh... I’m gay.”
Irina didn’t skip a beat, “I figured. You’re too cute to be straight. And way too nice.”
I laughed under my breath, not sure why I’d been so nervous. Irina just rolled with it. No weird pause, no awkward vibe.
Irina stood up straight, tugging her ponytail tighter as she looked at me. “What’s the deal?”
I glanced around out of habit, making sure there wasn’t anyone close enough to overhear. “It’s... two guys. Kinda.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Two?”
I nodded, face warm. “One of them’s... I don’t know. Distant. Real serious. It’s like he’s testing me or something half the time. Like... training me.”
“Training you?” Irina repeated, her mouth quirking up.
“Not like that. I mean, yeah, like that, but not... whatever. Forget it.” I shook my head, smiling. “The other one... it’s even weirder. He acted like he wasn’t into me at all. Then suddenly he was... really into it. And then after, it’s like nothing even happened.”
Irina made a face like she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or feel bad for me. “Sounds like one’s the cold type and one’s the confused type.”
“Something like that,” I said. “I can’t figure out if it means something or if I’m just reading into shit.”
She walked over and nudged my arm with her elbow. “Guys are idiots, Eli. They’ll act weird even if they like you, especially if they’re trying to play it cool or don’t want to admit something.”
I stayed quiet for a second, then asked, “Even when it’s another guy they’re into?”
Irina grinned, like she’d been waiting for me to say it out loud. “Makes no difference. Guys get weird about stuff they actually care about. Doesn’t matter if it’s a girl or a guy.”
That hit a little harder than I expected. Made me feel slightly less insane about the whole situation. I glanced off toward the parking lot, watching a couple cars crawl past.
“You ever had that happen?” I asked. “Where someone acted like they weren’t into you at all, then they flipped it out of nowhere?”
Irina tilted her head. “Maybe once or twice. It sucks in the moment, but it’s not always a bad thing. Means they’re working through something.”
“Yeah.” I rubbed my palm against my thigh, feeling the heat under my jeans. “Guess that’s better than nothing.”
Irina gave me a quick side glance. “You like both of them?”
I hesitated, thinking about Casper’s control. Mason’s easygoing nature.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s different with each.”
She didn’t push it further. Just nodded like she got it. “Give it time. That’s all you really can do with this stuff.”
We stepped outside together, sunlight hitting hard after the cool air inside. I was about to say something else when my phone buzzed. I pulled it out automatically, thumb sliding across the screen.
One new message: Gym. Monday. 6am sharp. Don’t be late.
Casper.
I felt my stomach flip, all the nerves and heat rushing back at once. Irina was saying something beside me, but it barely registered. My brain was already somewhere else.
Maybe she was right. Maybe this was all part of whatever game he was playing.
The ride back felt longer than it actually was. Irina had peeled off toward her side of campus, and I’d promised to text her later, but my head was already somewhere else. Casper. Monday. 6 a.m. sharp.
I couldn’t decide if I was excited or nervous about it. Probably both.
When I pushed into my dorm room, Mason was there. Fresh out of the shower, towel slung low on his hips, water still dripping down his chest. His hair was damp, sticking up in messy spikes, like he’d half-assed drying it.
My throat tightened a little. The sight of him like that—bare skin, wide chest, abs tight and flexing while he dug through his drawers—it wasn’t fair. After last night, I didn’t know if I should say something. If I even could. I knew I wanted more of him, but did he want more of me?
Before I could get a word out, Mason spoke.
“Yo,” he said, glancing over his shoulder, voice casual like nothing had happened. “I’m heading out.”
“Oh.” I dropped my bag on my desk chair. “Where?”
Mason grabbed a black T-shirt off his bed and pulled it on, still mostly damp. “New girl I met on Bumble or whatever. Said she was down tonight.”
My stomach sank in this slow, annoying way. “Right.”
“I probably won’t be back till late,” Mason added, raking a hand through his hair. “If at all.”
“Cool.”
He shot me a grin, nothing behind it. “Later, man.”
I didn’t say anything. Just waited until the door clicked shut behind him.
The room felt too quiet all of a sudden.
And I was hard. Again.
All I could see was Mason’s chest, water still sliding down his skin. His voice low in my ear last night. Casper’s text. My brain was fried.
I dropped onto my bed and shoved my hand down my pants. I wasn’t gonna last long.
I lay back and pushed my sweats down to my thighs. My hand wrapped around my cock, already half-hard just from everything swirling around in my head. I wasn’t even thinking about cumming at first. I just needed to clear some space up there.
It started with Mason. My brain always seemed to go back to him now. He’d barely said a word this morning, just grabbed his stuff and left, and still he was the first image that came to mind. Shirtless, fresh from the shower, hair damp and messy, chest still wet. He didn’t even try to towel off properly. Probably didn’t think twice about the way he looked.
But I did.
I pictured him walking over to my bed instead of the door. Sitting down like it was no big deal. Maybe resting one arm on his knee, the way he always did, casual and loose. Looking over at me and seeing me hard, and not saying anything—just watching.
My hand moved slowly, abs tightening under my shirt.
In my head, Mason wouldn’t be drunk this time. He’d be clear, aware. He’d reach down and touch me with that same relaxed confidence he always had. Just curious enough to see what I’d do. Maybe he’d stroke my chest with his knuckles. Maybe lean in a little too close.
I let the thought carry me a bit. My cock throbbed against my palm, precum already slicking the head.
Then, before I could sink too far into that version of things, it switched.
Casper.
It wasn’t even a choice—he just showed up in my head, same as always. Standing behind me at the gym. Hands on my sides, guiding me through whatever exercise we were doing that day. Focused. Steady. Quiet in that way that made me think he was always two steps ahead.
I pictured him adjusting my form, not saying anything at first. Just resting his fingers on my waist a second longer than necessary. Letting me feel it.
My hand kept moving. Not fast. Just enough.
Mason’s weight on top of me. Casper’s hands on my body. Both of them close. Both of them in control in different ways.
And me, stuck in the middle, wanting all of it.
My hand moved a little faster now, grip tighter, precum slicking my skin. I couldn’t keep it slow anymore. Every time I tried, something else hit me—another detail, another flash of them.
I pictured Mason first. Him climbing onto my bed for real this time, not just in my head. Shirtless, loose joggers riding low on his hips. Sitting back against my pillows, pulling me in between his legs like it wasn’t a big deal. His hand on my neck again, steady, fingers brushing the edge of my jaw.
He’d tilt my face up to look at him. Maybe say something low like, “Been thinking about this?” with that stupid grin of his. I could feel it like it was happening: his thumb brushing over my lip, his other hand stroking my hair, slow, almost careful. Then sliding lower. Down my neck, over my chest, his palm flat against my skin.
My hips jerked a little against my hand, breath catching in my throat.
Then it shifted again. Casper this time.
I pictured him pulling me aside after practice, real quiet. Locking the door to one of the smaller back rooms where nobody else went. Saying something simple like, “Kneel.” And I would.
Not rough. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Just… deliberate.
I imagined the weight of his hand on my head, fingers resting right at the base of my neck while I opened my mouth for him. Not all the way at first. Just enough to taste him. Casper wouldn’t rush. I knew that already. He’d let me work up to it.
I imagined the feel of his cock against my tongue, filling my mouth slowly until my lips stretched around him. His voice steady above me, saying quiet things like, “That’s it,” or, “Good.”
My hand stroked faster now, everything tightening at once. Mason holding my jaw. Casper’s hips pressing in, slow but steady.
Both of them touching me. Both of them taking their time.
I came hard, hips lifting off the bed, chest pulling tight. Warm all over my stomach, breath coming fast and shaky. My legs didn’t want to move right away. I just stayed there, staring at the ceiling, skin flushed and sticky, heart thudding in my ears.
Eventually, I wiped myself off with a towel from the floor and tugged my sweats back up, still catching my breath.
God.
I didn’t know how I was supposed to sleep now.
When I finally managed to calm down, I crawled under the blanket, pulling it up over my chest even though it wasn’t cold. My skin felt sensitive all over, not just from cumming but from the whole mess in my head. Mason leaving, Casper’s text, both of them crowding into my brain like there wasn’t room for anything else.
I stared at the ceiling for a while, my hand resting on my stomach, fingers tapping lightly against my skin without really meaning to. I wasn’t tired. Not exactly. My body was wired, but there wasn’t anything left to do about it.
Eventually my eyes started to drift shut anyway.
When I woke up the next morning, the room was quiet. I rolled over, squinting at the clock. Mason’s bed was still empty. He really hadn’t come back.
It didn’t surprise me, but it still felt weird, walking into the bathroom alone, brushing my teeth with the whole room silent except for the hum of the fan.
By the time I finished getting dressed, I was already feeling restless again. That same edge from last night was still there. Not quite nervous, but not calm either.
At least I had a reason to get moving.
I grabbed my bag and headed out, making my way toward the gym.
The air outside was cool, not cold, but enough to wake me up a little. By the time I pushed through the gym doors, it was barely light out, but Casper was already there. Same spot as always. Leaning against the wall near the mats, arms crossed, watching me.
“Morning,” he said, voice low.
“Morning,” I answered, voice steady.
It wasn’t anything new. Same time, same routine. Casper already had his sweats rolled low on his hips, tank top tight across his chest. He didn’t look different, and I wasn’t expecting him to. This was just how mornings went now.
I dropped my bag by the wall and walked over, head already dropping slightly as I stopped in front of him. No words. There didn’t need to be. Casper reached down, fingers hooking into his waistband like it was the most casual thing in the world, pulling it down just enough.
My mouth was already watering.
I knelt without being told.
His cock was already half hard. Warm against my lips as I leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the tip before parting my mouth for him. This wasn’t fast or messy. It wasn’t about cumming right away. It never was with Casper first thing in the morning. It was about setting the pace. About getting my head clear before training.
I let him fill my mouth gradually, my hands resting loose against his thighs. His skin felt warm under my palms, solid. I breathed through my nose and focused on keeping it slow, steady, the way he liked it. No rushing. No showing off. Just letting him guide it.
Casper’s hand settled lightly on the back of my head. He didn’t apply pressure, his hand was just there. His hips barely moved, there was just a subtle forward tilt, letting me know exactly how far he wanted me to take him.
“Good,” he murmured, voice quiet. “Just like that.”
I closed my eyes, breathing in the faint clean scent of his skin and whatever gym spray he always used. My jaw ached already in that familiar way, but it wasn’t bad. It felt right.
This was normal now. Just part of how we started the day.
Casper didn’t say much once I got started. He never really did. That was part of his allure. He was always so calm and focused. Hands on my head, cock in my mouth, like this we both belonged in this moment. Just part of the morning.
But I’d noticed it lately. It wasn’t like the first few times, when he’d been slower about it. Testing how much I could take, making sure I didn’t choke too hard. Back then it had been careful. Now, not so much.
Over the past couple weeks, he’d gotten used to me like this. Not just letting me go down on him, but being a more active participant in the blowjobs. There was more vigour to his back-and-forth thrusts down my throat. Like this was where my mouth belonged before practice.
I could tell by the way he held my head now, firmer than before. The way his hips moved with more weight behind them. Not rushing, but more deliberate. He’d figured out I wasn’t going to complain — or screw it up.
Lately, it had been building like that. Casper didn’t hold back as much anymore. What used to be a slow warm-up had turned into more of a routine he really got into. Like using my mouth had just become part of his morning. Regular. Expected.
I’d noticed it a few sessions ago. The way his grip would get a little firmer on the back of my head. How he’d thrust deeper, smoother, not waiting for me to find a rhythm first. He wasn’t testing me now. He knew I could handle it. He’d gotten used to it.
This morning wasn’t some big jump from that. Just a little more eager than usual. His hips working forward in that same steady way, cock sliding deep into my mouth until my lips brushed the base. His balls pressed against my chin with every stroke, heavier than I remembered.
My jaw ached, but I didn’t care. I breathed slow through my nose, fingers resting loose on his thighs.
“Good boy,” Casper said, low like always. “That’s it.”
He pulled out for a second. Let his cock rest against my cheek, slick and warm, then let his balls drag over my face as if there wasn’t even a question whether I’d stay there or not. His skin smelled faintly clean, sweat mixed with that same deodorant he always wore.
Then he pushed back in, no warning, slow but deep until my mouth was full again.
Casper held there for a while, hips still. Just letting me take it. My throat burned a little, but I didn’t move. I could feel him watching me—his hand resting heavy on the back of my neck, fingers flexing slightly, keeping me steady.
Then he pulled back again, slow and controlled. His cock slid out of my mouth, leaving me breathing hard through parted lips, spit slick on my chin.
Casper didn’t say anything. Just stepped back a little, adjusting his stance.
“Knees wider,” he said, voice quiet.
I shifted automatically, spreading out until my thighs brushed the floor.
He moved closer, one foot on either side of me now. His hand stayed in my hair, holding me still. I felt him shift forward, lowering into more of a crouch. I didn’t have to look up to know what was coming—this wasn’t the first time.
Casper tilted his hips, bringing himself lower until his balls pressed against my mouth again. Only this time, his ass followed after, heavier, warm and slightly damp from practice air. I’d grown accustomed to his body by now and knew all of his smells and tastes. It was all becoming somehow… familiar.
I didn’t hesitate. Just tilted my chin up and let my tongue flick out, catching the skin right beneath.
Casper let out a breath through his nose, steady. Like he was already used to this too.
I licked again, slower this time, dragging my tongue up between the curve of his balls and the start of his ass. My hands stayed light on his thighs, keeping balance while I worked.
His skin was warm and tasted faintly of sweat. I pressed in a little harder, tongue circling where I knew he liked it, just under the tailbone.
Casper’s grip in my hair tightened again, a slow pull—not yanking, just letting me know he was there. His voice came quiet after a second.
“Yeah. That’s good.”
I kept going, tongue moving slow and steady. Casper’s hips tilted forward just slightly, like he was giving me better access. My tongue traced the curve of him again, pressing in a little deeper this time, flicking right along the center where his skin felt softer. Warmer.
His grip stayed in my hair, holding me there without pushing or rushing. Just steady. Like he was in no hurry to pull me off.
I let my tongue work in slow circles now, taking my time with it. I wasn’t really thinking about anything else. All I could focus on was how he tasted, how quiet the gym felt, how my own cock throbbed against my sweats. The way he smelled stuck in my nose now, clean sweat and skin and something heavier underneath.
After a while, Casper shifted again. Pulled back a little, straightening up. His cock brushed against my cheek on the way up.
“Back to it,” he said quietly.
I moved without needing to be told. Tilted my head down and opened my mouth again, letting him slide back in, warm and slick from before. My jaw ached even more now, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my lips around him tighter, feeling the weight of it fill my mouth again.
Casper’s hips moved a little faster now. Not rough, but there was more weight behind it. His balls tapped against my chin in a steady rhythm. His hand stayed firm at the back of my head, guiding me, not letting me pull off until he was ready.
I kept my hands resting light on his thighs, palms flat. Focused on my breathing. On the sound of skin against skin. The quiet, steady grunts coming from above me as he started to really work toward finishing.
His voice dropped lower now, not even full sentences anymore.
“Yeah... good... just like that...”
His pace kept building—still controlled, but heavier now. I felt the pull in my throat every time he slid in deep, felt my own stomach tighten like I needed to hold still or I’d lose focus. My jaw hurt, the kind of ache that settled in slowly, but I didn’t back off. I kept my mouth open for him, lips tight around the base.
Casper’s hand flexed in my hair again, holding me steady while he pushed in all the way, just breathing slow through his nose. I could feel his abs tighten too, could tell by the way his thighs tensed under my hands that he was close. That quiet tension he always carried, all narrowed down to this.
“You’re getting good at this,” he murmured, voice rougher now. “Every time... better.”
That landed harder than it should have—hearing it like that. Not as a tease. Just a fact. Like I was part of his training routine now as much as any drill.
His hips pressed in once more, deep enough I had to fight the gag a little, then he pulled back all the way, letting his cock rest heavy on my tongue for a second. I could feel him twitch, warm and pulsing.
“Hold still,” Casper said low, steady as ever.
I didn’t move.
A second later, he pushed forward again, hips jerking slightly, and I felt it—warm, thick, flooding the back of my throat. His cum hit in slow pulses. I swallowed automatically, eyes shut tight, my hands still pressed flat to his thighs.
Casper held me there until he finished. No rush. Just that quiet weight of him in my mouth until he finally exhaled, long and slow, and stepped back.
I swallowed again, throat working around it, slower this time. The taste stuck a little, thicker than I expected. It wasn’t just one clean gulp. I had to swallow a couple more times before it was all down, the last bit clinging to the back of my tongue.
Before I could wipe my mouth or say anything, Casper’s hand came back down on my head. Not light. He rubbed my hair rough, fingers dragging through it in a way that wasn’t exactly gentle. Almost like he was getting sweat off his own hands using me.
It wasn’t mean. Just firm. Like he was making a point.
“Good boy,” he said, voice quieter now.
The way his hand moved, back and forth, kept me there a second longer. My face stayed tilted up. My hands still rested loose against his thighs. And all I could think about was how that felt—his hand heavy in my hair like it belonged there.
By the time he let go, my stomach was tight in a whole different way. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to get up yet or just stay exactly where I was.
Casper stepped back fully now, adjusting his waistband like nothing had just happened. His face was calm, same as always: focused, quiet, already switching gears back into coach mode.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pushed up onto my feet, feeling a little shaky, but not from my legs giving out. It was just that same buzz I always got after. Head kind of light, stomach kind of tight.
“Get stretched out,” Casper said, voice steady again.
I grabbed my water bottle and took a long sip, then started warming up like normal. Forward bends, shoulder rolls. It felt almost weird going back to regular drills after what just happened, but this was how mornings went now. Blow him, train, repeat.
Except today, as we worked through the sets, Casper’s voice cut in after about twenty minutes.
“Your form’s off,” he said, brow pulling in just a little as he watched me reset.
I exhaled through my nose, feeling it too. My timing was off. My balance felt loose.
“Something up?” Casper asked, stepping closer. “You look distracted.”
I hesitated, glancing away for half a second before answering.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Casper waited, arms crossed.
“I guess I was just... extra worked up this weekend,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck. “Jerked off more than usual.”
His mouth quirked up a little at that.
“That’s probably not it,” he said. “But you should cool it down if it’s messing with your head.”
I nodded, swallowing that lump in my throat again.
“We’ve got competition coming up in a few weeks. You’ll need to be sharper than this.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Casper uncrossed his arms and clapped a hand lightly on my shoulder.
“We’ll go every morning this week. I’ve got an idea. Something I think’ll loosen up your core.”
He winked as he said it, and even after we moved on, I couldn’t stop wondering what exactly he meant by that.
When we wrapped up, I grabbed my stuff and headed out like normal. Casper didn’t say anything else. He just gave me a quick nod before moving back toward the weight racks. I could tell he was already in his own head again, back to thinking about drills and routines.
Outside, the air felt sharper now. I zipped my hoodie up and started walking, my legs still loose from training but my brain going in circles.
That whole session felt off. Not bad, just… different. My form had been sloppy, and I knew it. I wasn’t even sure if it really was from jerking off too much or if it was something else.
Maybe it was Mason still hanging around in the back of my head. Or Irina’s advice getting me all hopeful. Or just knowing things with Casper weren’t the same as when we’d started. Like he trusted me more now. Kept letting me in a little further each time.
I thought about the way he’d looked right after he finished. Calm, like always, but not exactly cold. And that wink.
I couldn’t stop replaying it.
Loosen up your core.
I had no clue if he meant it the way it sounded or if it was just some weird coach thing. Either way, I knew I’d be back there tomorrow morning, ready for whatever he had in mind.
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