The Elephant & Wheelbarrow had barely changed since we'd all started sneaking in with fake IDs at seventeen. Same sticky carpets. Same nicotine-yellowed ceiling, even though nobody had smoked inside for years. Same old blokes hunched over Guinness at the bar, watching the racing like it was a second religion. Only we were different now.
"You've gone quiet, Danny."
I looked up from my pint. Ben was grinning at me from across the table, already halfway through his third lager.
"Thinking."
"Christ." Ollie laughed. "That's never good."
The table erupted. I smiled because that was what I always did.
We'd all come back to North London after university, drifting home like the tide had pulled us in. Ben had a graduate scheme lined up in Canary Wharf. Ollie reckoned his dad would find him something in property. Matty was going to travel for a year because his parents had decided that "seeing the world" was apparently an educational experience.
But I had… nothing. Three interviews. Twenty-seven rejection emails. One application I'd forgotten I'd even sent.
"So..." Ben leaned back. "What's ya plan then?"
I shrugged.
"What d'you actually want to do?"
I stared into my beer. I should have an answer but the reality was I just didn’t know. At school I'd been the captain of football and anything else you can think of. But at uni, things stopped being so simple. Teachers loved me. Coaches loved me. My girl Rachel loved me. I should have been fighting the job offers off with a stick, but I just didn’t know if I wanted to get on the hamster wheel. I felt lost. Life had started to feel meaningless.
"It's weird," I admitted. "I've spent twenty-two years knowing exactly where I was supposed to be." Nobody spoke as I struggled to find the right words. "And now..." I gestured vaguely.
Matty nodded. "Yeah."
That surprised me. "You too?"
He took a drink. "I keep thinking uni forgot to tell us something."
"What?"
"When does being an adult actually start?"
That earned a proper laugh.
"Apparently," Ben said, raising his pint, "right fucking now."
We clinked glasses.
"To unemployment."
"To unemployment!”
"To disappointing our parents."
That one got the biggest cheer. I laughed harder than I meant to. The beer was beginning to do its job. I started to relax. The lads always knew how to make me feel better.
My phone vibrated.
Rachel ❤️ - Still feeling awful. How’s the pub? xx
I typed back - Don't worry. Get some sleep. I'll come round tomorrow.
Rachel ❤️ - Miss you.
I hesitated. I missed her too. But she’d been sick nearly a week. You’ve never met a girl who got sick so easily. Covid. Stomach bugs. Menstrual cramps. I was always ducking out to Boots to get her something. Every evening we'd planned together had turned into me dropping soup at her parents' house before driving home again. Nine times out of ten a night would end with me along jacking it in the bathroom because there was always a reason why we couldn’t sex. All part of being boyfriend of the year right?
The lads would've ripped me to shreds if I'd admitted how frustrating I found it. Not because I didn't care she was ill. I'd just catch myself thinking about sex far more often than I wanted to admit. I was a twenty-two-year-old bloke, prime of his life, great build thanks to all those years of football, nice piece of man-meat if I do say so myself. And shooting those alpha loads into a toilet bowl.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket before anyone noticed.
"Rachel still dying?" Ollie asked.
"She'll live."
"Shame."
"Cheers, cunt."
The table burst into laughter.
"Leave him alone," Matty said.
"No," Ben replied. "Look at him." He pointed at me dramatically. "Our boy's backed up."
"Oh, piss off."
"Poor Rachel," Ollie sighed theatrically.
"No," Ben corrected. "Poor Danny."
More laughter. I needed more beer if I was going to deal with their bullshit. I stood up. “Time for another.” Unsurprisingly, everyone was immediately my best friend as three empty glasses landed in my hands.
As I threaded through the pub towards the bar, the Friday night crowd had thickened with office workers, old codgers, some birthday party spilling out from the function room. Cheesy 80’s songs played over the tinny speakers. As I stood at the bar waiting to order, I spotted him.
Reece.
He couldn't have been more than nineteen now. He was a couple of years below us at school. He was always hanging around the edges of our football matches. Didn’t seem to have any friends but didn’t seem to mind. Was a bit of a chav and clearly didn’t have the parents and resources the rest of us had, but also had a slightly girlie, soft look to him. Soft lips, a chick’s bum. He had a split in his eyebrow that I could never work out if it was a scar or something he’d shaved in to try to make himself look tougher. He’d wear the same black hoody with white stripes on it in the hope it’d give him some street cred I guess. But everyone just assumed he was a bender and didn’t have much of a problem with it, given how harmless he was.
The lads always joked he had a crush on me because they’d always catch him staring at me with a hopeful puppy dog look in his eyes and would blush if I looked at him and would always look away immediately. He was doing it right now.
He was nursing a single pint at a table on his own, oddly peaceful and unbothered. Maybe he'd simply stopped caring what everyone else thought. I found myself watching him for a second too long. His expression brightened immediately. I nodded in recognition.
Before I could decide whether to nod back, Ben shouted across the room. “Danny, ya cunt!"
I turned. "What?"
"Stop flirting with the barmaid and get the bloody drinks."
The lads roared with laughter.
When I looked back Reece had lowered his eyes into his pint again. And for reasons I couldn't quite explain, I felt oddly disappointed.
By the time I got back with the drinks, the conversation had moved on to the people we'd all gone to school with - who had gotten engaged, who had gotten arrested, who was making a right twat of themselves on Instagram.
I slid the pints onto the table. "There you go."
"My hero," Ollie said.
I took my seat, but my eyes wandered back across the pub before I could stop them. Reece was still there. All alone. He caught me looking again and smiled.
I looked away first.
"What's he doing here?"
I hadn't realised Ben had followed my gaze. "Reece."
Ollie snorted. "I forgot about him."
"The little muppet."
Matt looked over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah."
They weren’t meaning to be cruel. Just dismissive. He had always been just a bit of a joke.
“Maybe he wants to give you a lap dance," Ben said.
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be a cunt."
"He looked at you like you were his one and only god and wanted to kneel down in front of you and give worship.”
The table laughed and I couldn’t help but join in.
Ben leaned forward, lowering his voice theatrically. "I reckon if you asked nicely he'd take that heavy load of yours."
"Oh, leave it out."
“What? A hole’s a hole.”
A group of girls squeezed past our table, laughing at something on one of their phones. The opening riff of an Arctic Monkeys song drifted through the speakers. The pub felt full in that comforting Friday-night sort of way, where nobody really wanted to be anywhere else.
Ben nodded toward Reece again. "You know what's funny? I always wondered why he never got beaten up."
I frowned. "What?"
"You know…" Ben shrugged. "He wasn't exactly hiding it."
"He wasn't that obvious," I said.
"Oh, come off it. That boy would have blown you every day before school and twice after school if you asked him to. Tell me that wouldn’t have been a sweet deal? A hole to nut in whenever you wanted? No strings. No commitment. No bullshit.”
Ben was starting to piss me off. It struck me that I'd never actually spoken to Reece. Not properly. Four years in the same school, passing each other every day in the corridors. I'd known his name and he’d known mine. But that was it. But he never seemed lonely even though I don’t think I’d ever seen him talk to anyone.
I shook the thought out of my head as I stood up to go to the loo.
"Don't fall in," Ben called after me.
"No promises."
The noise dropped away behind the heavy door as I stepped in, relieved to have a quiet moment to myself. I stepped up to the urinals. There was only one other one occupied... Reece.
He looked up as I stepped alongside him. For a second, I saw genuine panic cross his face, as though he was about to apologise simply for existing.
“You k?" I said.
His expression softened. “...Yeah."
The hiss of my piss against the urinal porcelain was the only sound cutting through the low thrum of the pub’s basement bathroom. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror reflection. Me - broad shoulders, six two. Him - like a little delicate miniature in comparison. A waif in an oversized hoody.
I looked straight ahead. “So..." I said, almost before I could stop myself. "...how've you been?"
There was a pause. Then I heard a tiny laugh. "I didn't think you'd remember me."
I smiled despite myself. "Course I remember you."
"You do?” He looked genuinely pleased as locked eyes. "I thought... I dunno."
"What?"
"You lot probably forgot me the second you left school.”
“You kinda stuck out,” I said, giving him a wink. A wink?? What the fuck was I doing? Flirting with him like he was a bird?
He turned bright red and looked down into his urinal.
Outside, through the door, I could hear the lads erupting into another roar of laughter. For the first time all evening, I found I wasn't in any rush to go back. But standing shoulder to shoulder now felt strangely intimate.
Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I caught him peeking down, trying to catch a look at my cock as I pissed. I may have even heard a tiny gasp. I looked over at him and he quickly turned his eyes to the front.
I grinned. “It’s OK. I’ve got a great cock.”
We both burst out laughing, the tension broken. My stream was drying up and I was about to tuck myself back in when Reece opened up the conversation again.
"You still playing football?" Reece asked.
I shook my head. “Not so much anymore.”
"I used to watch."
"I know."
He blinked. "You... knew?"
I nodded. "You came to all the matches. You could have been our cheerleader.”
For a second I thought maybe I’d embarrassed him too much. He almost looked like he was about to cry so I jumped in, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we liked it! It meant somebody cared. Motivated us to play our best.”
“You mean it?” he looked up at my hopefully. His eyelashes were ridiculously long and his eyes were lighter than I'd ever noticed at school, somewhere between blue and grey depending on the light. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone look so grateful, like what I had to say mattered more to him than anything else in the world.
I laughed. “Of course, bud.”
Like a little kid, he suddenly burrowed into my shoulder for a comforting hug. It caught me off-guard but I didn’t mind giving him what he needed as I wrapped my arms around him in a brotherly way. He seemed so harmless and needing some masculine attention. I could smell his cheap Beckham body spray and hair gel as I comforted him.
It took me a moment to realise… my knob. Still half-soft from urinating, but undeniably exposed, hanging loose over the waistband of my jeans. Then his hand moved. Not a grab. Not a push away. Just the barest graze… his fingertips, light as a feather, brushing the underside of my shaft where it curved toward my belly.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my hips jerking forward involuntarily. My cock swelled against his touch, filling fast, hot and heavy in his palm. It had been a long time since anyone besides me had touched it.
Reece’s head tilted up. His lips, full and pink, parted, and he bit his lower lip hard enough to whiten it. His eyes locked onto mine, wide and dark, searching. Not fearful. Hopeful. Testing.
“Danny…?” he whispered, voice raw.
I couldn’t speak. My throat was tight. Every instinct screamed to yank away, to laugh it off as a mistake, to flee back to the safety of straightness and Rachel’s vanilla missionary. But Reece’s hand hadn’t moved. It was still there, cradling my hardening length, his thumb rubbing slow circles over the head, slick with piss. The sensation was alien yet undeniable - electric, concentrated, far more intense than anything Rachel’s hesitant fumbles had ever evoked. He looked so vulnerable. So attracted to me. Like I was his whole world. And I could feel him offering his lips up to me. Was I going to kiss this boy?
Before I could decide whether to pull him closer or shove him away, the bathroom door swung open. A bloke from the high school footy team staggered in, yelling for someone to pass him a paper towel. The spell shattered.
Reece jerked back like he’d been burned, yanking his hands to his sides and shoving himself hard against the urinal. His face flushed crimson, eyes darting anywhere but at me. I fumbled to tuck myself back in, my own cheeks burning, heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, voice hoarse. “Just… cold in here.”
He didn’t look at me. Just gave a stiff nod, staring fixedly at the wall as he zipped up and scurried away.
I stood there long after he’d left, staring at my reflection in the grimy mirror. My pupils were blown, lips parted. The guilt was already rising but underneath it, humming low and insistent, was something else: a fierce, hungry curiosity. What would it feel like to have him do that properly?
The question scared me more than I’d ever admit. But for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t thinking about Rachel’s sickness. I was thinking about Reece’s mouth. And how fucking badly I wanted to find out if it felt as good as his hands.
Back in the pub, the place had filled up and it was hard to find anyone. The lads got louder. But I got quieter. I stayed with them, drinking whatever appeared in front of me, laughing when everyone else laughed. Ben had started talking to two girls near the bar, and Ollie was doing his usual thing of making everyone within earshot believe he was considerably more interesting than he actually was. I watched them for a while. This was what we did. This was how we'd always done it.
A blonde girl smiled at me as she passed. I smiled back. Normally that would have been enough to get me moving. But tonight I didn’t. She didn’t seem that attractive.
Ben appeared beside me, already flushed from the beer. "You k?"
"Yeah."
He pointed his pint at me. "Don't overthink everything, mate. You've got a girlfriend. You've got a degree. You'll get a job. Stop worrying."
I smiled. "Cheers."
He squeezed my shoulder. "That's what I'm here for."
Then he disappeared back towards the girls.
I took another drink. And another. Then I realised I couldn't see Ben anymore. Then Ollie vanished. Then Matt. Or I moved through the pub looking for them, but every face seemed unfamiliar now. I stood there holding my pint, suddenly conscious that I'd somehow become alone.
And then I thought about Reece. The table he'd been sitting at was empty. For some reason, that gave me a strange feeling of disappointment.
Someone shouted that last orders had been called and just as quickly as it had filled, the pub started to empty. People started pulling on coats, checking phones, finishing drinks in great hurried swallows.
I found Ollie near the door. “What happened to everyone?”
He shrugged. “See ya next time?”
I nodded and gave him a hug. He clapped me on the back. “Get outta your head, mate. You’ll be way happier.” And he was gone.
The winter air was biting, a sharp chill that cut through my jacket as I stepped outside the pub. My head was swimming from the pints, and my skin felt tight with a frustration I couldn't shake. I was wound up tight, my hormones screaming for a release that felt miles away but I guess I had to go home to Rachel. Everyone was gone. I was alone.
Then I heard them. Quiet whispering. A groan. A sigh.
I rounded the corner. My heart hammered against my ribs as I froze. There, against one of the heavy wooden tables on the patio, was Reece. He was bent double, his chest pressed hard against the cold surface, his pale, smooth ass thrust high into the air. And behind him was Ben. Ben, my straight-as-an-arrow mate, was gripping Reece’s hips with white-knuckled intensity, burying his cock deep into Reece’s tight hole with brutal, rhythmic slams.
I should have looked away. I should have been disgusted. But I couldn't move. I was transfixed, watching the way Reece’s body pushed back with every thrust, the way his skin flushed pink in the cold air. The sheer audacity of it… doing it right here, in the open, where anyone could walk by… sent a jolt of electricity straight to my groin. Despite everything I thought I knew about myself, my cock surged to life, throbbing painfully against the denim of my jeans. And was I jealous? Wasn’t it me that Reece had a crush on? Wasn’t I the one he wanted? Yet here he was giving it up to Ben who didn’t give a fuck about the poor lad.
Reece turned his head, his eyes glazed and hungry. He locked onto me, a small, needy moan escaping his lips as Ben pounded into him.
"Danny..." he whimpered, his voice a desperate invitation. "Come here... please..."
I felt overwhelmed, a dizzying cocktail of confusion and raw, primal lust. Looking at Reece - so vulnerable, so open, and so clearly wanting me - I felt a hunger I’d never experienced with a woman. I walked over, pulled like a magnet, drawn in by the scent of sex and winter air.
Ben didn't even stop. He just looked up at me with a drunken, knowing grin. Not in the least bit embarrassed at being caught engaging in bum sex in the middle of the night outside the pub. "Don't just stand there, mate. Join in. He's a little slut, he can take both of us."
I was frozen as Reece reached out, his fingers trembling. He grabbed onto my hips for support as Ben’s thrusts threatened to knock him over. Reece buried his face in my stomach, like he was trying to get another brotherly hug. But then, without waiting for permission; he reached into my pants and wrapped his small, warm hand around my erection, pulling my throbbing cock out into the cold. The contrast of the freezing air and his hot skin made me gasp.
Then he leaned in and took me into his mouth.
Fuck. I nearly collapsed. I’ve been with Rachel for years, but she’s always been hesitant about giving me head. She’d do it occasionally, but it was always quick, tentative and lacked any real passion. Especially now, with her sick and all, the thought of this kind of intensity felt like a dream. But Reece? He was a professional. He swirled his tongue around the head of my cock, sucking with a vacuum-like pressure that made my toes curl. You could tell he loved the taste of a man's penis and wanted more of it. He used his lips to grip me tight, sliding deep, his throat tightening around my shaft in a way that felt electric. I groaned loudly, my hands finding his hair, pushing him deeper as he looked up at me with those puppy-dog eyes, completely devoted to my pleasure.
I was losing my mind. The sensation was visceral, a dirty, wet heat that drowned out the cold.
The air behind the pub was thick with the heavy, musk-laden scent of three men pushed to their absolute limits.
We had Reece pinned, his lean body stretched taut between us like a living bridge of pleasure. He was a mess - cheeks flushed a deep crimson, eyes rolled back, his breath coming in wet slurps as I drove my cock deep into his throat. I could feel his throat muscles clamping down on me, gagging instinctively, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he leaned into it, his tongue swirling around the head of my dick, trying to take every inch of me.
Behind him, Ben was locked in, his thick cock buried deep in Reece’s tight, glistening arse. Ben was grunting and sweating, pistoning in and out, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing off the walls as he pelvis slapped against Reece's peach.
I looked past Reece’s trembling shoulders and locked eyes with Ben. We both had the same expression - a predatory, triumphant grin. There was no judgment, no hesitation anymore; just the raw, shared adrenaline of claiming this boy together. We were two mates, bonded by the taboo, our cocks working in tandem to stretch and fill Reece from both ends.
“He’s taking it so well, isn't he?” Ben gasped, his voice a low groan.
Reece let out a muffled, high-pitched moan against my shaft, his eyes fluttering open to look at me. They were glazed with pure, unadulterated need. He looked completely undone, willing to be a toy for our pleasure.
“I’m close,” Ben groaned, his pace becoming frantic, his hips slamming into Reece’s ass with bruising force. “I’m gonna dump it all in him!” He let out a guttural roar and surged forward to pump his load deep into Reece’s bowels.
As Ben pulled out with a wet pop and leaving Reece’s hole gaping and dripping with cum, Reece shifted. He turned around, his face flushed and glistening with saliva, and backed his ass onto me before I could stop him.
A blowjob was one thing. But fucking a lad’s arse? He was already lubed up from Ben, and I slid into him with an ease that was terrifying using my mate's hot jizz to ease the friction. The heat was instantaneous. It wasn't like fucking a woman; it was a tight, gripping pressure that hugged every ridge of my cock, sucking me in. I let out a primal groan, burying myself deep in his heat.
"Oh god... fuck," I gasped, the pleasure so intense it felt violent. Reece whimpered as well, almost painfully adjusting to how much bigger my cock was than Ben’s.
“Mmphhh… Danny… you’re so big,” Reece whispered, his voice trembling with pleasure. His ass clenched around my shaft, milking him with each involuntary spasm.
For my entire life, I’d played the part of the straight man. I’d followed the rules, stayed in the lines, and accepted the boundaries Rachel set. She’d always been the one in control of our sex life, and the one thing she’d absolutely forbidden, the one thing she’d looked at with genuine disgust, was anal. She’d made it clear that it was "gross" and "not for us." I’d never questioned it. I didn't even know what I was missing until I slid into Reece.
The moment I pushed inside him, I could feel my entire world shift. It felt like a vacuum, a tight, pulsing ring of muscle that clamped down on my shaft and sucked me in with a hunger that was almost violent. It was silky smooth, yet incredibly firm, hugging every single ridge of my cock in a way that no pussy ever could. This was real sex. This was what men wanted.
Ben laughed at the look on my face. He stayed for a moment, his arm draped around my waist, watching me bury my shaft in this boy-pussy. He reached down and gripped where the base of my cock was pressed against Reece’s quivering bum cheeks. “Fuck, yeah,” Ben growled, his voice low and rough. “Take it all, you little slut. Danny’s gonna fill you up good.”
I couldn’t help but perform for my mate as he watched me make this poor boy my bitch.
“Nice,” he whispered. Ben and I locked eyes as I slowly deep-dicked Reece. Ben nodded as he watched me give into the feeling. "Don't overthink it, mate" Ben whispered as he leaned in to give me a drunken, sloppy pash. I didn't pull away. I leaned into it. His lips were hot and smelled of lager, as I found our tongues interlocking and twisting with each other. Sometimes I really hated this cunt but not right now. Right now, I couldn't get enough of him. A brief, confusing moment of brotherhood and debauchery, a shared secret that made the act feel even more illicit and electric, before he chuckled and stepped back.
"Told ya, Danny. A hole’s a hole. Now enjoy the little twink," Ben grinned, slapping Reece's bubble butt then staggering away back toward the pub, zipping up his sticky shaft and leaving us alone in the shadows.
I was obsessed now. I wanted more. I gripped Reece’s waist and whispered, "Over here."
I hoisted him up onto the table, laying him on his back. I pushed his legs up, draping his ankles over my shoulders so he was completely open to me. I lunged back inside him, the wet slap of our bodies echoing in the quiet night. I stared deep into his eyes, seeing that look of absolute adoration there that I was quickly becoming addicted to. I leaned down and kissed him hungrily, and I was stunned by how good it felt. His lips were swollen and wet, tasting of beer and my own penis. Kissing a guy wasn't the "wrong" feeling I expected; it was an extension of the heat. It was soft, urgent, and deeply intimate. I loved the way he melted into me, the way he clung to my shoulders as if I were the only thing keeping him grounded.
I wanted to be more than just another guy he'd slept with. I wanted to be the best fuck he'd ever had. I wanted to mark him, to own him in a way Ben never could.
“Uhhh… uhhh… Danny… mmmm…. thaaaannnk yooouu,” he groaned as he clung to me. Reece didn't just moan; he whimpered. He made these small, needy, broken noises that sounded like he was being undone by me. Every time I slammed my hips forward, he’d let out a high, desperate cry, his voice trembling with a mix of pain and absolute ecstasy. It turned me on in a way that felt dangerous. Hearing him break like that, knowing that I was the one doing it, awakened a dominant streak in me I didn't know existed.
I fucked him with a desperation I’d never felt, each thrust driving me deeper into a headspace where nothing mattered but the friction and the heat. I loved the way he whimpered my name, the way his small hands gripped my glutes. It felt wrong, it felt taboo, and that only made it feel more fucking incredible. The fact that I was a "straight" guy with a girlfriend, albeit one coughing up her lungs in bed back home, while I was fucking a younger boy behind a pub in the freezing cold, made the pleasure sharpen. It felt like I had stepped off a cliff and discovered I could fly. I felt liberated, stripped of all the societal bullshit and expectations. In those moments, I wasn't a graduate, a boyfriend, or a "straight" man - I was just an animal driven by pure, hedonistic lust.
As I drove myself into him one last time, feeling that vacuum-tight grip milking me dry, I realized I had crossed a line I could never go back over. The guilt was there, hovering in the back of my mind, but I had given in to the animal, and god help me, I wanted it again and again.
The pressure built until I couldn't take it. I felt my balls tighten, a volcanic heat rising in my core. With one final, brutal shove, I buried myself to the hilt and erupted. I felt the hot, thick ropes of my virile seed flooding his guts, a massive load that seemed to go on forever. It was the most intense orgasm of my life - a visceral, soul-shaking release that left me trembling and breathless. He laughed with pleasure, like a little kid getting the present he wanted most on Christmas Day.
I slumped against him for a moment, my heart racing. As I slowly pulled out, Reece didn't let me go. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lick the remaining cum from my cock, sucking me clean with a slow, appreciative devotion.
"Thank you, Danny," he whispered, a satisfied smile on his face. "That was... incredible.”
I didn't step away. I reached down, sliding my arms under Reece’s armpits and hauling him up against my chest. He was shaking, his skin slick with sweat and our combined fluids. I held him close, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart against my ribs.
Reece tilted his head back, looking up at me. The desperation was gone, replaced by something softer, something profoundly intimate. He looked at me not as a conquest or a thrill, but as something more.
I leaned in, and when our lips met, it wasn't the hurried, hungry kiss of the heat of the moment. It was slow. Deep. A real, lingering connection that seemed to pull the air right out of my lungs. I tasted my man-milk on his tongue and the intimacy of it hit me like a physical blow. This wasn't just about the sex; it was about the way he looked at me, the way he trusted me with every inch of his body.
As I held him, I felt the knowledge that he was full of me, carrying a thick, warm load of my seed deep inside his guts. The thought sent a surge of possessive warmth through my chest. I had marked him. I had claimed him in a way I’d never even dreamed of with Rachel.
“You’re okay,” I whispered against his lips, my voice thick with emotion. “I’ve got you.”
Reece let out a shaky breath, clinging to me as if I were the only solid thing in his world - as if this one moment made up for all those lonely days he had experience in high school on his own. The bond was undeniable, forged in the filth on a freezing night, but now settling into something that felt dangerous. In that moment, the guilt of the world outside didn't matter. There was only the heat of his body, the taste of our union, and the secret we now shared, pulsing deep inside him.
Finally he pulled away, dressed quickly and disappeared into the night, leaving me standing alone by the table. I almost didn’t want him to go.
The adrenaline faded, replaced by a cold, crushing weight in my chest. I tucked myself back into my jeans and began the walk home. I thought of Rachel, lying in bed, sick and trusting me. I was confused, terrified, and utterly shaken but as I felt the lingering throb in my cock, I knew a part of me was already craving the feeling of Reece’s tight, hot ass again.
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