Boy meets spiral
Emory stepped out of his hotel room. He couldn’t believe he was spending Spring Break with Sam. He moved down the hall as a member of the wait staff approached with a cart of food. The man stopped and smiled at him. The man was tall, bald, with a salt-and-pepper beard. He stood out like a sore thumb as a white man at a Mexican resort.
“Water to start your day,” the man said as he poured Emory a glass of water.
“Thank you,” Emory said politely.
“My pleasure. My job is to make you feel like a prince.”
The gesture was kind and simple. Emory smiled politely and took the glass of water. He drank the water quickly and handed the glass back. The man continued to make his way down the hall.
***
The sun in Cancun poured like molten gold over the beach. The water, the rows of umbrellas, and the dozens of college students who were loud and high off the spring break adrenaline. Buried in the sand was a portable Bluetooth speaker. “Manchild” by Sabrina Carpenter blasted.
On the sand, two teams formed around a volleyball net. The energy was already electric. Shirts flew off, music blasted loud as fuck. Sweat gleamed on shoulders and abs. Sam stepped onto one side of the court. His long and lean body was tanned from the week spent in the sun. His dark hair pushed off his forehead. The wind from the ocean lifted the edges of his swim trunks. His green eyes shine with competitive fire.
Across the net, Emory rolled his shoulders, muscles tight, and his ebony skin beamed in the sunlight. His curls were damp, and his chest glistened from the ocean. He caught Sam’s eye and smirked.
“You ready to lose, Horton?” Emory taunted.
Sam smirked back. “Babe, you do realize I taught you how to play, right? You should be scared.”
“Well, today the student becomes the master.”
“Bring it on, baby.”
Their friends hooted. The tension crackled. It was playful, sexy, and addictive. The ball went up, and the game was on. Bodies launched into the air. Sand exploded under their feet. The ball flew in clean arcs while the crowd shouted and hyped them up.
Sam landed a good serve. He flashed Emory a grin that made the man’s stomach twist. His hips moved in with a sexy little rhythm.
Emory scored. Sam’s jaw tightened. He shot Emory a look that revealed every naughty thought in his mind. The sexual tension from the game alone gave everyone a hard-on. The energy between them was real.
They were halfway through the game. The heat felt unreal. Guys poured water over their heads, slicking their hair back. Sam wiped the sweat from his neck with his forearm just as Kade walked along the sideline. Sam could read the tension in Kade’s eyes.
As Sam looked him over, he could see the loneliness and heartbreak. He recognized it and identified with it. He used to live with it. He jogged over toward Kade.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Just keep having a hard time processing things,” Kade answered. “It’s been a week. Why can’t I get it out of my head?”
“It takes time. You experienced something traumatic. I’m here for you as best I can be.”
Sam wrapped his arm around Kade and pulled him close. It was a friendly hug exchanged between two people who shared a common pain.
Across the net, Emory saw something different. He froze mid-stride, eyes narrowed just a little. He felt heat in his chest, only it wasn’t from the sun. It was a sharp pinch of jealousy. He’d never felt it before, and it made his blood boil inside.
Emory’s teammate bumped his shoulder. “Yo, you good?”
Emory forced a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, just watching the play.” His eyes stayed locked on Sam.
“Here,” he handed him a bottle of water. “Wait staff said the prince needs to drink.”
Emory smirked and took the bottle and drank some. The game resumed. The next serve came fast. Emory slammed it. He landed the point with force. The sand erupted, and the crowd broke out into cheer. Tension hummed inside of him.
Sam jogged forward. He breathed heavily. “Nice hit.”
“You seemed…distracted,” Emory answered. His voice was lower than usual.
Sam frowned lightly, “What? No. Just playing.”
Emory chugged the water from his bottle. His jaw ticked as jealousy clouded his judgment. It was as if the sun had been blocked by rain clouds. Sam felt Emory’s shift. The tension was suddenly no longer on the game. It was between them. Emory turned to walk away. Sam ducked underneath the net and grabbed Emory by the arm.
Emory turned around, and his eyes met Sam’s soft gaze. His heart skipped a beat or two. Sam pulled him away from the game by the arm. Their team members booed as Sam led him through the lush green grass and bushes planted by the resort just off the beach.
***
Sam pulled Emory’s fat cock out and quickly swallowed it whole. Emory moaned as he ran his fingers through Sam’s dark hair. Those soft lips ran up and down the length of his erection. Sam swallowed every inch and held it there. It throbbed in the back of his throat. He placed his hand on Emory’s bare ass cheek.
“Holy shit,” Emory exclaimed. “Suck my fucking dick.”
Sam greedily moved his head back and forth. His tongue moved around the shaft and lapped at the slit of that thick beast. Emory held the back of Sam’s head and began to move his hips. His cock moved in and out of Sam’s mouth. He fucked the man’s throat almost relentlessly. Sam choked and gagged on that cock.
“Dick tastes so fucking good,” he moaned.
He took it back into his mouth and began to slobber all over that fat pole. He glided his lips up and down the shaft faster and faster. He gently wrapped his hand around the base and stroked it. Emory’s knees nearly buckled from the pleasure Sam’s mouth provided. Emory stepped back from him. His cock dripped with saliva.
“Pull your dick out,” he demanded.
Sam nodded his head and quickly pulled his swim trunks off. His massive pole slapped his stomach and stained his abs with precum. Emory moved to his knees. He tugged on Sam’s cock and then ran his tongue up the side of the shaft. He opened his mouth and engulfed the swollen member. Sam let out a deep sigh. Emory looked him in the eyes and began to suck his dick like a pro. His tongue wrapped around the salty flesh, and his lips formed a seal around the head.
“Holy fuck,” Sam moaned. “Oh my God.”
Emory moved and down the cock. His tongue lapped at Sam’s perfect balls. He twisted his hand like a corkscrew around Sam’s cock. His fat pink lips made love to the shaft. He moved up and down the pole. His eyes met Sam’s half-crossed eyes. They eye fucked one another as Emory ate more and more of his cock. Sam spread his legs wider as Emory sucked his soul out of his cock. It throbbed in Emory’s mouth. The shaft pressed the roof of the stud’s mouth, but he never released it.
“Your mouth feels so good.” Sam’s voice was hot and passionate.
Emory released Sam’s cock. He stood up as the sun kissed his chocolate skin, and the heat melted his icy vibe. Sam leaned further back in the chair. The wind blew through the lush green bushes and wrapped them in it. Emory straddled Sam’s lap.
He pressed Sam’s cock at his hole and eased down on it. The head popped in they both moaned. Sam cuffed Emory’s fat ass cheeks in his hands. The man began to bounce up and down on that fat rod. It moved through his guts and pounded against his prostate. His thick cock slid across Sam’s abs.
“Fuck my ass, Horton,” Emory cried. “Take me. Fuck me.”
Emory bounced up and down harder and faster. Sam’s heavy balls bounced up and down as his cock rammed through Emory’s insides. He placed his hands on Emory’s hips and helped him up and down. He fucked into his hole harder and faster. Emory tossed his head back and took it. He loved the feel of Sam’s cock buried in his ass. Their bodies moved passionately together. Sam’s cock thrived in Emory’s juicy, wet ass.
“I want some dick,” Sam informed him with a lustful voice.
Emory climbed off him. Sam flipped onto his hands and knees. Those perky booty cheeks made Emory’s mouth water. He knelt behind him and spread his ass. That pink pucker revealed itself. The sigh made Emory crazy with lust. He pressed his long and soft tongue against the flesh. Sam let out a soft but sexy moan. Emory slapped those cheeks. His tongue swirled around the hairless pucker.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said with his face buried in the valley of Emory’s ass.
“Eat my hole,” Sam panted.
Emory’s tongue swirled around the pucker. He slid it up and down and round and round. Sam pushed more of his ass in Emory’s face. That tongue spread that hole. It licked around those pink pussy walls. Sam found himself fucking Emory’s tongue. Emory took hold of Sam’s member. He gave it long and slow strokes. Sam’s body quivered.
“EAT ME, BABE,” Sam cried.
Every flick of the tongue sent Sam into a new world. Emroy’s tongue dug deep into the man. He had that hole soaking wet. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth. He removed his tongue and stood up. He slapped his cock against that waiting hole.
“Fuck me,” Sam begged,
“Yeah? You want me to put it in you?” Emory teased and taunted him. He knew Sam wanted it.
He pushed his cock against Sam’s tight pucker and then slid inside that warm hole. He pressed against the hole till his pubes rested against Sam’s cheeks. His cock began to move in and out of the man. Those hanging balls slapped against the taint. Sam began to rock his body back and forth. Emory slapped that ass as Sam fucked him.
“Let me ride you,” Sam cried.
Emroy rolled onto his back. Sam straddled him. He eased up and down on that fat dick. Those ass cheeks clapped and bounced. Sam’s massive tool flopped around. It skit precum all over Emory’s body. Sam bounced up and down harder and faster. He lost himself in the pleasure.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to Emory’s lips. Their tongues slid into each other’s mouths. Emory thrust his hips and began to dig into Sam’s ass. His cock went deeper into the man. Those chocolate balls pounded into those white booty cheeks. Sam’s ass began to turn red.
Emory quickly rolled him onto his back. Sam spread his legs, and Emory resumed fucking him. His cock spread those walls and made them wet as fuck. Sam stroked his cock as his ear, chest, and cheeks began to turn red. He tossed his head back as his body embraced every feeling. He stroked his dick harder and faster. His balls began to churn.
“I’m bout to cum,” Sam shouted. “FUCK!”
His cock erupted with thick and creamy white semen. He continued to stroke and nurse his fat cock as Emory moved in and out of him. Emory took a finger and scooped up some of Sam’s cum. He licked it off his finger. The taste drove him over the edge. He slammed into Sam one final time and blew his load inside of the man.
***
The sun had dipped lower. The cool breeze from the water washed over Emory and Sam. They sat silently near the waterline with their ankles buried in the warm sand. It was like they were trying to anchor themselves against whatever storm may have been brewing inside.
“Thor,” he said softly, “You’ve barely said a word or looked at me. Did I do something wrong?”
Emory’s jaw flexed. “I saw you. With Kade earlier. I keep seeing you with him lately.”
Sam blinked. “What? No. I mean, yes, I was talking to him, but that’s it.”
“Yeah.” Emory’s voice was tight and bitter. “You hugged him like he was your…boyfriend.”
Sam ran a hand through his hair. “Babe, I was helping him. He’s dealing with something, and I was trying to be a good person.”
Emory scoffed. “Right. The guy I used to be friends with benefits now needs my boyfriend to fix him.”
“It’s not my fault you slept with a bunch of people. I saw someone upset, and I tried to be there for them.”
Emory snapped his head in Sam’s direction. Sam instantly regretted his words.
“You’re right. It’s not your fault. Instead of making me feel like shit for it, you could practice being a decent boyfriend and care about my needs.”
“That’s not fair. I care about your needs.”
“Really, because you ignore people all the time. You’ve never cared to fix anyone before.”
“That’s not true. The moment I saw you upset when people found out about your politics, I came and found you. I sat with you, and we talked.”
“Exactly. Now look at us, we fuck, and you were with Peter when you helped me.”
The words hit Sam like a slap. Emory looked at him. Sam’s eyes were dark, conflicted, and wounded.
“Emory…come on. Talk to me…like really talk to me. Tell me what’s really going on. I love you.”
Emory inhaled sharply. The jealousy and insecurity cracked to the surface. The rage inside boiled like a pot on medium heat.
“I didn’t like how you looked at him,” he admitted, his voice a whisper. “I don’t like how gentle you were with him. He pulled something out of you that I thought was mine. I’m okay with sharing Sam the athlete with a pretty face card. I’m okay with sharing social media famous Sam. I don’t want to share the quiet, intimate, kind, caring, and sensitive Sam. He’s mine.”
“I’ve never seen you like this before.”
“And I feel stupid for feeling this way.”
Sam grabbed Emory’s hand. “You brought out this side of me. It’ll always be yours. I like being like this. It makes me feel special.”
“Sam?” Kade’s voice came from behind them.
Both boys turned. Kade stood a few feet away from them. His shoulders were hunched, and his hands twisted nervously.
“Sorry,” Kade said, as his voice cracked. “I know you guys are having some alone time, but can I talk to you? Like you said? I just can’t talk to anyone else right now.”
“Why not?” Emory asked. “We’re friends. We’re more friends than you are with my boyfriend.”
“Emory, please…trust me, I can’t tell you. I need to speak with Sam.”
A tear dropped from Kade’s eye. Sam hesitated to move. He wanted to respect Emory, but he knew the depths of Kade’s pain better than anyone.
“Just five minutes,” Kade pleaded.
“Babe…I’ll be right back.”
Emory’s heart plummeted. The rage that had been on medium rose to high. Emory moved his hand from Sam’s.
“I’ll only be a minute,” Sam promised.
Sam jumped up and moved to Kade. He took hold of Kade’s hand and walked with him toward the bushes. Emory’s chest burst. The rage overflowed, and all he saw was red. He stood up and walked away. The spiral had begun.
***
Emory found the open-air bar. It was part of the resort. He slid inside quietly and took a stool near the back. The bartender approached with a smile and a face that seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
“Looks like you need some strong? Tequila?”
Emory didn’t think. He murmured. “Strong as fuck.”
The bartender nodded. One shot. Then another. Emory downed both. The burn he felt in his throat loosened something inside of him. He dragged his fingers through his curls. Why wasn’t he ever enough for the guys in his life? Why was Sam so focused on Kade? He tapped the bar. Another shot appeared.
“Monaco” by Bad Bunny had couples dancing together. Everyone seemed so carefree. Everyone but him. A fire burned inside of him.
“Emory?”
Emory looked up. Peter stood over him. That charming and disarming smile brought all sorts of insecurities and feelings to the surface.
“My mother used to say all the time that the same way you get a man is the way you lose him. I stole Sam from you without trying, and Kade stole him from me. That should make you happy.”
“I think you’ve had too much to drink. Let me get you to your room.”
“No. I’m not your responsibility. I’m just the storm you created. Why’d you play me? I changed my world to be with you, and you had a boyfriend. You never saw me more than anything other than a hole.”
Peter exhaled. “You’re drunk, so I’ll tell you this because you’ll never remember it. I thought Sam and I were over. I wanted to find someone to distract me. Then I saw you, and you were innocent and beautiful. You had this light about you. I saw myself with you, and I was ready to figure out how to make it work. Then Sam wanted to make things work. Thanksgiving was the same way. I felt something for you.”
“Coward. You’re a damn coward. Get out of my face, Peter.”
Peter nodded. “I’ll go find Sam and let him know where you are.”
“I don’t need him. I don’t need anyone.”
Emory slapped the bar, and like magic, another drink was in his hands. Peter knew that something was off. He could remember the night he first met Emory and slept with him. The boy had barely wanted to drink then.
Emory stared at the glass. He hated the jealousy. He hated the insecurity. He loved the rage. It replaced the other feelings little by little. Sam had walked away with his friend. He was alone in love and in Mexico, or at least that’s what his drunk mind whispered.
As “All Up In Your Mind” by Beyoncé started to play, something changed inside of Emory. He jumped up from the bar and pushed past Peter. He began to dance in the middle of the floor. A few guys began to cheer and form a circle around him. Emory tossed his head back, opened his mouth, and someone began to pour a bottle of tequila down his throat.
Peter pushed his way through them. He grabbed Emory and tried to pull him away. Emory snatched away from him. Someone pulled Peter away. He struggled against them. They tossed him on the sand. Emory was left to his own chaotic destruction. How could someone begin to spiral so fast and so suddenly?
“Déjà vu” by Olivia Rodrigo pulled emotions from Emory. The room began to spin. His knees felt wobbly and weak. He blinked, and his arm was around someone’s shoulder. He blinked again, and he was stumbling down a hallway with the person.
“Sam,” he mumbled.
“Not Sam, but I can be,” the person said.
He blinked again, and he was inside a room. He fell face-first on the mattress. The room drifted away.
Peter walked up on Sam and Kade around a beach fire. The closeness of the two twisted Peter’s stomach.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Peter asked.
“Emory knows where I’m at. I asked him to give me a few minutes.”
“Well, I just watched him get white girl wasted at the bar for 30 minutes straight before a crowd of guys surrounded him and kicked me out.”
The color faded from Sam’s face. He jumped off and ran off with Peter. They raced to the bar only to find it had quieted down and Emory was long gone. Sam’s heart began to race. His phone chimed. A message from that same unknown number.
He opened the message, and there it was. A picture that stopped Sam’s heart and broke it at the same time.
There was a guy with his arm draped over Emory. They were heading into a hotel room.
Text: Just thought you should know he’s not worth it. I can love you better than he ever can.
Sam closed the message, turned, and walked away. Peter watched him leave. In the hotel room, Emory peacefully slept away his drunken spiraling behavior, still fully clothed and all alone.
TO BE CONTINUED
© Grayson Rose 2025. All rights reserved.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
