Kings
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
I woke up the next morning with a start. Mason’s figure towered above me. It was still dark outside but I could make out the lines of his muscles and his clean, masculine face, even in the dim light of the hotel room.
“Wake up, Roomie; it’s the big day!”
As my brain slowly caught up to what was happening, I realized that the absence of light meant Mason had woke me earlier than necessary to get ready for the day’s events. We had an early morning scheduled, but not this early. What did he have in mind?
An early morning blowjob maybe? Or a fuck even? A boy could only be so lucky. But I wasn’t sure my body could handle a Mason-style fucking right before I went out on the mats. If he asked for it, I might have to insist on sticking to blowjobs. I wasn’t sure he’d listen, but I’d make an effort to reason with him at least. In the end, Mason would get what he wanted because I wouldn’t be able to resist.
Mason shook me again. This time he pulled back the sheets, revealing the morning erection I hadn’t even realized I’d been sporting until that moment. The guys hadn’t given me a chance to jerk myself off last night, so it was no wonder I was still running hot.
Mason laughed when he saw the obvious tent my cock was creating in my briefs.
“Thinking about last night, huh?” he asked.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. What had transpired between Mason, Casper and me had dominated my thoughts all night until I’d fallen asleep. I couldn’t help but replay every sloppy moment of it. The instant Casper walked in. The look of shock on his face. The way he just closed the door and walked in, as if he’d decided in that moment he was going to be part of it, even if he wasn’t sure how.
I thought about Casper’s cock in my mouth, about Mason pounding my ass and then offering it to Casper like it was his to share. I remembered how they’d switched. Two muscular, tight-knit bodies moving around me with the same practiced, grace they used in their gymnastics. It would almost have been elegant if it hadn’t been so obscene. If it hadn’t been followed by Mason offering me his cock from my own ass to suck on like a reward I was only too happy to gobble up.
I’d lain in bed, impossibly hard, wondering what this new dynamic would mean for me. Mason knew about Casper and now Casper knew about Mason too. Would they use me together again or was this a one-off?
I knew if I ended up between them again, like that, it would irreversibly change things between us. How could it not? They’d used me like a toy last night. They’d even discussed it. Mason mostly, but Casper hadn’t exactly turned Mason down or acted like anything Mason did was weird.
I hadn’t complained either. I asked them to do it to me and if I let them do it again, I wouldn’t be a friend and trainee anymore, I would be something else. Wouldn’t I?
“No time for that,” Mason said, in reference to my hardon.
Of course not. There was never time for my dick these days it seemed. I shared the joke with myself as Mason tore away the rest of the blankets and any remaining dignity I had left and clarified why he’d woken me so damn early.
“Newbie tradition on exhibition day,” he said, gleefully.
Blowjobs for Mason were a newbie tradition? I wondered
“You can’t keep the team waiting for this one. Everyone’s gonna be there. Get up already!” Mason practically shouted.
Ok, so not a blowjob.
Blowjobs for the whole team? I joked internally again as I dragged myself out of bed reluctantly.
Mason told me to dress for the exhibition so I figured we wouldn’t be back to the room and after a steady round of hustling from Mason we were out the door.
He led me to the lobby of the hotel where a bunch of the team were already milling about.
As we approached the group there were waves and smiles, but this time they were directed at me instead of Mason, which was not the norm. Something was up and everyone was in on it. It seemed friendly enough, but Mason hadn’t given me any insight into what I was heading into so my nerves were still ticking up.
As the minutes rolled on, Mason and I got to chatting with some of the guys, and the rest of the team showed up. Taylor seemed to be taking headcount and when he was sure everyone was there, he yelled for the group to roll out and we left the lobby for a large field that cut a line between the hotel and the venue where the exhibition was taking place.
By now the sun had mostly risen and it was casting a beautiful, pinkish hue in the sky. There were hardly any clouds in the sky and the air was crisp and refreshing just like it was in the rural town I’d come from. The only thing undercutting the serenity were the nerves in my stomach that had started to creep back up about my first exhibition performance later that day.
Taylor summoned the group and mustered us into a tight circle. I’d never really noticed him as a leader before, but he was one of the most senior members of the team and he did have the respect of most of the guys, so it wasn’t entirely surprising to see him take on the role. It was just a bit unexpected now that I also knew Taylor was gay. I guess it didn’t matter to this group.
“Listen up, guys,” Taylor said. “It’s Eli’s first exhibition today and you all know what that means! Usually, we have more than one fresher on the team, but the second guy bailed this year so it’s only Eli. That means he gets the honor of leading the team cheers all by himself this year.”
The guys roared so loud I almost lost my balance.
“Last year, Mason, Kyle and Vic really fucked it up. Eli, you’re gonna show ‘em how it’s done, right?”
Mason took that opportunity to shove me into the middle of the circle. All eyes were on me. Taylor didn’t leave me alone though, in a flash he was right there, arm around my back.
“This is how it works, Eli,” he said. “You know our cheer. ‘Chalk it up. Lock it up. Chalk it up. Knock it up!’ Every year, the new guys… or guy… lead the team in the cheer before the first day of the exhibition, but there’s a catch. They also get to choose the last two lines that will be the new last two lines for the cheer for the rest of the season.”
That was a pretty big deal. Whatever I chose was going to be cheered by the team before every match for the entire year. Suddenly, the ‘Knock it up.’ part of our cheer made sense, with Mason at the helm.
“Don’t embarrass us like… well, mostly Mason did last year,” Taylor said, confirming my suspicions. “Give us something great, you can do it!”
He started swaying his jacked arm back and forth like he was singing an old sea shanty and then started to stomp one foot and then shouted, “C’mon, Eli, get her kickin’”
I wasn’t quite sure what to do, but I was eager to get us past the “Knock it up.” era so my mind started to twist for anything that would work for our cheer.
I figured I had at least two lines before I had to think of anything original so I started slow.
I croaked out a quiet, “Chalk it up!”
Taylor stopped me. “Not loud enough, Eli. We need to hear you!” he said.
I started again and called out as loud as I could this time, knowing nothing else would suffice:
“Chalk it up!”
The response from the team came just as loud and ferocious:
“Lock it up!”
Now the heat was on. I fumbled and reached for what I knew.
“Chalk it up! Knock it up!” I yelled out.
The team groaned. Even Mason.
“That’s OK, Eli,” Taylor Said. “You should have seen the three last year.”
Several of the guys laughed as if they were recalling what must have been a funny experience the year before.
“Yeah, Mason really put on a show!” Ray offered loudly.
Taylor clapped me on the back and gave me a nod that said I should start again.
“Lock it up!”
“Chalk it up!” came the response.
My turn again. I’d been thinking during the pause and I went with what came to me. I hoped the guys liked it.
“Bars and rings! We’re the kings!”
Cheers this time; feet stomping, and Taylor’s grip tightened on my shoulder, letting me know I’d done it.
“Alright boys, you heard it,” Taylor shouted. “Go Eli!”
I started again, more confident this time.
“Chalk it up!” I shouted
“Lock it up!” the team boomed in response.
“Bars and rings!” I hollered.
“We’re the kings!” they thundered in raucous chorus.
Taylor gripped my neck again, letting me know another round was in order.
I amped it up this time, and the guys responded in kind. Taylor nudged me for several encores and with each repeat performance the team’s crescendo built, driving themselves, and me into a frenzy. By the end I was shouting so loud and hard I’d almost forgotten we were in a public place, and my throat was running raw.
When we were done every member of the team gathered in close to congratulate me in what seemed like the real welcome to the team that I’d never really had.
By the time we broke the circle and stomped our way back inside, my throat was raw but I didn’t care. My chest felt wide open. I was buzzing. I wasn’t just the freshman tagging along anymore, I was part of them.
The rest of the morning blurred into chalk and sweat. Warm-ups rolled by easy, and I could feel everything clicking the way it had in practice with Casper. My body wasn’t dragging, it was pushing forward on its own, like it wanted to show what it had. The nerves that had sat heavy in my stomach yesterday were gone. I wanted to get out there.
When it was my turn on the floor, I took a deep breath, slapped my hands, and went. The tumbles snapped together clean, my landings tight. Each time my feet hit the mat, it was solid. No wobbles. I could hear the team in the background, shouting my name. By the time I hit my last hold, I knew. I had nailed it.
On the rings I went higher than I’d ever dared before, chest burning, arms quivering, but it felt right. I squeezed through the final twist and came down hard, feet flat, eyes forward. The cheer that rose up told me everything.
Casper caught me right after I stepped off. He slapped me on the back so hard it almost knocked the breath out of me. His grin was wide, proud in a way I had never seen.
“That’s the gymnast I’ve been waiting for,” he said.
The words stuck with me. For a second it felt like my whole chest lit up. All the hours bent under him, all the corrections, all the stumbles, and now this. I wanted to go again, right then and there.
The rest of the sets rolled on. Mason tore it up like always. Taylor looked smooth as hell on the pommel. Ray hit a stuck landing that made the crowd jump. One after another, the guys gave it everything and we fed off each other. By the time the exhibition wrapped, we weren’t just a bunch of individuals grinding through routines. We were a team.
Back at the hotel the buzz carried into dinner. They had us in a side room with round tables and the food wasn’t anything special, but it didn’t matter. Everyone was loose, laughing, full of energy.
I sat down with Mason, Taylor, and Ray. Mason immediately started tossing grapes at Ray across the table like we were in a cafeteria back at school. Taylor rolled his eyes but he was smiling the whole time.
He leaned toward me after Mason got up to refill his plate. “Second day’s different,” Taylor said. “More relaxed. You’ll like it. They let us do some exhibition sets, more flair, less strict scoring.”
“Like show-off mode?” I asked.
“Exactly. Think of it as the fun day. You’ve already proved yourself. Tomorrow you just go out there and give them a performance.”
It sank in slow. The worst of the pressure was already over. Tomorrow was about riding it out.
Taylor told me more about when he first joined. How he’d been terrified of messing up, how the guys had made him feel like family once he got through that first weekend. He spoke softer than Mason ever did, but steady. I kept nodding along, soaking it in.
Mason came back and plopped down in his chair, tossing a bread roll into my lap. “Don’t let him bore you, Roomie. Taylor’s history lesson hour.”
Taylor flicked a grape at him. “Better than you stuffing your face like a pig.”
The whole table cracked up. Mason leaned back, smug, chewing like he’d already won.
It felt good though. Sitting there with them, catching jokes, adding a few of my own. I wasn’t the nervous freshman anymore. Taylor kept pulling me into the conversation, asking my thoughts, and Mason, for all his obnoxiousness, made sure nobody left me out either.
By the time dinner ended, I was full in a way that had nothing to do with food.
Once I’d made it back upstairs, I was lagging. My muscles hummed with the kind of ache that felt good, like proof I had earned something. I opened the door and Mason was already there, towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp. He had showered and was sitting on his bed with his phone glowing in his hand.
I dumped my bag by the wall and sat down heavy on my own bed. For a second I just stared at the door, half-expecting it to click open again and for Casper to be standing there. I kept glancing at it, waiting without even meaning to.
Mason noticed. He set his phone down and grinned. “What, checking to see if Coach is coming by for another cameo?”
My face burned. “Shut up.”
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, grinning wider. His towel was already half loose on his hips. He tugged it down slow, folds bunching, and his cock fell free, huge and thick. He wiggled it at me like he was showing off.
“Think just one cock will do tonight, Roomie?”
I snorted, trying to cover my pulse quickening. “Guess I’ll have to make do with what I’m given.”
His eyes lit with mischief. “No attitude from you, suck boy.” It came out half a laugh, but something in it hit deeper. A joke, sure, but I felt the shift.
I rolled my eyes and slid off the bed, dropping to my knees. “Whatever,” I muttered, crawling toward him anyway.
He smirked down at me, hand resting on the base of his shaft. When I reached him, he tapped the head against my cheek. “Good boy,” he said, still playful but with that same edge.
The words made my gut twist. I noticed them, noticed him saying it, but the only thing I wanted was the weight of him in my mouth. I opened up and leaned forward, taking him down.
Mason sighed, satisfied, like I was exactly where I belonged.
He was already half hard, but the second my mouth closed over him his cock thickened against my tongue. Mason shifted his stance, feet apart, steady, like he was bracing for a lift. One hand settled into my hair and pressed. Not enough to choke me yet, but enough to tell me this was about him.
“Take it,” he said, low, and I worked him slow at first, tasting his skin, the faint bite of soap from his shower. He wasn’t patient. His hips pushed forward and suddenly my throat was filling, triggering my gag reflex. He pulled me back just far enough for spit to run down my chin, then shoved me forward again.
“That’s better.”
I tried to keep my hands on his thighs for balance, but he knocked one away. “Nope. Hands behind your back. Let me do the work.”
I obeyed, lacing them behind me, and the angle changed everything. Mason groaned and started rocking harder. My jaw ached but I kept opening wider, letting him set the pace.
“Lick my balls,” he ordered suddenly, yanking me off his shaft with a wet pop.
I was dizzy from the rush of air, but I obeyed, dragging my tongue across his sack. He laughed, pleased, resting his cock across my face like a weight. “Yeah. Get under there.” I pushed further, nosing under, licking every seam and crease until he tugged me back up.
“Now my taint.” He spread his stance wider, guiding my head lower. My tongue traced the damp skin there and he groaned. “You’re learning.”
When he hauled me back to his cock, I knew better than to take my time. I sucked hard, bobbing my head, letting him slide deeper each thrust. He was rough, making me choke and sputter, but every time I thought I’d lose it he held me firm, making me swallow around him.
“My feet are killing me from today,” he said casually, like we were talking dinner. He leaned back onto the bed, dragging me with him. “Rub ‘em while you suck.”
I blinked, confused, but he shoved one foot into my lap. I grabbed it, kneading the arch with one hand while sucking his cock with the other hand bracing me. He moaned, stretching out, cock twitching against the roof of my mouth.
“Harder,” he said. “Massage, don’t tickle.”
So I dug in, thumbs pressing into his sole while I kept his cock sliding deep. My throat worked around him, spit dripping down my chest. Mason laughed again, giddy and thoughtless in the way that made me ache. “Look at you. Working two jobs at once. My little multitasker.”
He switched feet on me, shoving the other into my lap. I squeezed, rubbed, bent my head lower so I could lick the side of his big toe while still jerking him with my hand. He groaned so loud it shook through my chest. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep sucking.”
I went back to his shaft, mouth raw but hungry. I swallowed him down until my eyes watered, until I couldn’t breathe through my nose anymore. Mason gripped the back of my head and held me there, hips jerking up. My whole body shook but I stayed, drool running everywhere.
“That’s what I like,” he muttered, voice thick. “Devoted to the task.”
He let me up at the last second, letting me gasp, then shoved me back down. I worked faster, hand twisting at the base, tongue sliding along his slit. Mason’s thighs tensed. His voice broke rough. “Gonna cum down that throat, Roomie. Don’t waste it.”
I doubled down, sucking hard, dragging his balls with my fingers, rubbing at his foot the way he liked. He groaned, deep and sharp, then shoved me down to the root. Hot cum surged, thick and heavy, hitting the back of my throat. He held me there until I swallowed every drop, coughing, gagging, but still milking him with my tongue.
When he finally let go, I pulled off with spit and cum smeared across my chin. My chest was heaving. My knees hurt from the floor. Mason leaned forward, sweat beading on his forehead, and patted my head like I was a dog who’d just done a trick.
“Good boy,” he said again, softer this time, satisfied in a way that cut straight through me.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and sat there, empty and full all at once, the taste of him still thick on my tongue.
I stumbled to my feet, legs shaky, throat burning. Mason was already stretched back on his bed, eyes half closed, looking like he’d just finished a long workout instead of using me.
“I’m showering,” I muttered, grabbing my bag. He only hummed, rolling to his side.
The water hit hot and biting, steam filling the tiny hotel bathroom. I leaned against the tile and let it run down my face, trying to wash away the soreness in my jaw and the ache in my knees. My stomach was still tight from swallowing him. I wanted to jerk off, wanted to take the edge off, but the walls felt too thin, and I couldn’t stop picturing Mason hearing every sound.
By the time I dried off and stepped back into the room, Mason was out cold. He had one arm tossed across the sheets, mouth open a little, chest rising slow. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the blankets up.
I dropped my towel on the chair and slid under my own covers. My body was tired but my dick was still hard. I shifted, tried to get comfortable, but every brush of the sheet made me twitch. I checked the door again, out of habit, half hoping, half dreading. Nothing.
The room was quiet except for Mason’s steady breathing. I slid my hand under the blanket and thought about taking care of myself quick, but the sound of him shifting in his sleep froze me. I pulled my hand back out, heart racing like I was already caught.
So I just lay there. Hard, frustrated, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about the way he had looked down at me, the way his voice had changed when he said “suck boy” and “good boy.” A joke, but not just a joke.
I pressed my face into the pillow, willing my body to relax. Tomorrow would come fast. Day two of the exhibition. Taylor had promised it would be fun. I had to hold on to that.
Eventually, the exhaustion won. My cock throbbed, unsatisfied, but my eyes slipped closed. I fell asleep thinking about what the morning would bring.
This story is currently in its 35th chapter with 4 bonus chapters and a Casper PoV series on my site.
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