Garrett's Destruction

Author's Note: This is a very early draft of a full-length erotica. If you would like to read the full story or the first available drafts of future chapters, visit: https://conormonaghan.com/

I never expected a response. *REDACTED* has tens of thousands of followers, so I assumed the page was flooded with requests all the time. Perhaps the owner filtered requests based on their own preferences, or perhaps some people offered money for some of the baits. Maybe eventually they would actually try to bait Garrett and fail, but I would have long forgotten about the page anyway. 

What I didn’t expect was to open up the tumblr app on my phone two days later and see a new post with his face on it. The photo was his profile picture, so I instantly recognized it. He had glasses on, which he wore occasionally. But there were two more pictures. The second was a shirtless picture of him. He was wearing black basketball shorts. No smile, not too much emotion. I had never seen the picture before, and I had seen all of his pictures on social media, so he must have taken it for the occasion. It was the first time in awhile that I had been able to stare at his nipples. They’re not small, but not large either. They’re the perfect size. His pecs are fit but lean. I wondered if he liked to have them played with. The third picture. It was a screenshot of a Snap. It was a selfie of him standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom wearing nothing but his underwear. Navy blue Hanes boxer briefs. 

For months I had been jerking off at night to fleeting images of the waistband of his underwear, to the tiniest hint of the cotton hiding beneath his pants, and here they are, and here his hand is, buried down the front grabbing his package and dragging the waistband down just far enough to expose the top of his brown pubic hair, which was more unkempt than I expected.

There was some text along with the Snap: “When do I get to see your tits?”

And a comment from *REDACTED* accompanying the entire post.

Garrett. Who wants to see him take his underwear off? Can we get 5,000 likes?

I whipped out my dick and started masturbating to the third picture of him in his underwear. My eyes traced his flexed torso. I stared at the hand in his underwear. His pubic hair. His penis was right there, right in front of my eyes, so close. The only thing shielding it was the cotton of his briefs.

I shot my load in under a minute.

I was out of breath, but I cleaned myself up. Unable to resist, I brought the post back up again.

Posted 4 hours ago. 3,713 notes.

I ate dinner and fucked around for the rest of the evening. I checked the page every minute or so, unable to resist the temptation. The post reached 5,002 likes at 9:59pm. My heart jumped. I waited. I was finally going to see Garrett’s penis. But the update never came. 

I reminded myself that *REDACTED*, whoever they were, probably had a life. They didn’t just have a countdown set to unveil right at the promised moment. It’s a Monday night. Give she/he/it a break.

It was a long night. I was too anxious to sleep. I jerked off to the picture three more times trying to pass the time. My brain was in a feedback loop. Check page. Check it again. No satiation. I don’t know when I fell asleep, but when I woke up on Tuesday, the first thing I did was grab my phone.

Posted 13 hours ago 7,979 notes.

No update. In fact, there was no update at all on Tuesday. Or Wednesday. Or Thursday. 

By Friday, I’d given up on it. *REDACTED* wasn’t M.I.A., either. A half dozen new posts of guys had cropped up in the meantime. Only one of them appealed to me, a college aged skater boy. Looked about 25. Huge, thick seven inch dick. But I didn’t jerk off to it. I had kind of lost interest.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course there was no new post, because there were no pictures. Garrett didn’t send pictures of his dick to a stranger. He never would. It’s Garrett. I had known him my entire life. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He was your typical guy, and he knew how to get along with guys, and he knew how to pretend to be masculine, a douche,to fit in, but he wasn’t actually one. He was a good guy. A sensible guy. A logical guy. He wasn’t a slave to sexual indulgence.

Plus, he was in a serious relationship.

Why had I let myself get excited?

Friday dragged on and on at school. Garrett is in my sixth period class, and we would always talk when time allowed, mostly about nothing. Guy stuff. Whenever he turned to watch the teacher, I would stare at his profile. That Friday, he was wearing a t-shirt and some blue jeans. He wasn’t wearing glasses. I imagined what he would look like right there with his shirt and jeans removed. I undressed him with my mind. Was he wearing the same underwear that he had on in the picture?

I asked him if he wanted to hang that night, but he and Hayden and the rest of the soccer guys already had plans to do something after practice. I expected an invitation, since I was also “one of the soccer guys,” but Garrett is also the kind of guy who can miss obvious social cues on occasion—like when you mention plans to someone and said someone isn’t invited to said plans and it’s fully within your power to invite them. But he didn’t. He can be naive like that. So I didn’t get one.

But we made plans to play disc golf on Sunday morning. He was busy Saturday. There was a huge disc golf course embedded in a nearby park within walking distance to both our homes. Still disappointed in the absence of *REDACTED* updates, I vaguely hoped that Garrett would decide to take his shirt off when we went to play on Sunday. Summer was drawing near, after all.

I picked up dinner with a few friends after school and then texted Hayden to invite him to disc golf on Sunday. He answered about fifteen minutes later saying that he wasn’t sure yet, but he would let me know. He also asked why I wasn’t chilling with him and the rest of the guys. I replied that I wasn’t invited. “You know you’re always invited dude. We’ll probably chill at my place later. Come over.”

I didn’t answer immediately, but I tentatively decided to head over there in an hour or so. At the time, I was just sitting my lazy ass on the couch watching Netflix. I can’t even recall what show. I pulled out my phone and started scrolling through social updates. Nothing interesting. I realized that I hadn’t checked tumblr since yesterday morning, so I decided to pull it up.

There was an update. I scrolled down to see a long cock attached to a lean frame. A long, thick monster cock. Probably eight inches. There was a dense forest of pubes above the cock, and a neatly trimmed happy trail leading down. It wasn’t a dick pic. It was full frontal. The dude was hung as fuck. He had a cocky smile on his face, and his tongue was sticking out suggestively. His underwear were pulled down beneath his balls and clinging to his thighs. Blue Hanes boxer briefs. 

The dude was Garrett.

My heart stopped.

The Snap caption written across the picture read: “Tell me how bad you want this cock.”

I scrolled down further.

1/2. Garrett and his big fat cock.

Posted 9 hours ago. 7,579 notes.