The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. If it feels personal… that’s between you and your conscience. Please don’t repost, reproduce, or do anything shady without permission—unless you're into cease and desist letters. Also: Save it. Like it. Comment on it. Send feedback, thoughts, corrections, compliments (especially compliments lmao). Seriously, I’ve been receiving a lot of love and it helps to motivate me! Yes, I read them.
POP
The worst part wasn’t the mess. Wasn’t the way his lips still tasted like… Noah. Wasn’t the sticky streak drying on his cheek, or the slick between his fingers, or the filling pressure on his ass lips where the bar still sat heavy, intrusive.
No. The worst part was Noah.
Walking around. Stretching like he just wrapped up a workout instead of ruining someone’s life. Wiping his cock off with the hem of his shirt, lazily. Tossing a towel over his shoulder. Like he hadn’t just turned Liam into a leaking, overstimulated wreck.
“Dude…” Noah’s voice was light. Teasing. Like he was talking to a friend who just lost a game of ping-pong. “Relax. You’re fine. You’re always in your head about this stuff, man. You loved it. It was fun, right?”
Liam stared at Noah like a confused puppy. His cock throbbed between his legs—still hard, still dripping, still begging—while his body was frozen. Humiliated. Trapped somewhere between wanting to crawl under the floor or crawl back into Noah’s lap and beg to cum.
Noah dropped to a squat in front of him, elbows on his knees, looking him over like a mechanic inspecting a broken engine. “…Damn, dude. You really are down bad, huh?” A lazy grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Little dick’s still hard. Cute.”
Then Noah shifted, kneeling in front of him now—one hand bracing on Liam’s hips, the other gripping the bar inside him.
“Alright, easy…” Noah’s voice dropped—low, calm, almost soothing. Like he was helping Liam stretch instead of pulling a literal barbell out of the inside of his twitching asshole.
Liam flinched the second Noah touched it. His whole body tensed—shoulders curling in, thighs trembling, breath hitching sharp. “F-fuck—”
“Hey.” Noah squeezed his hips—firm, grounding. “Relax, dude. Don’t clench. Makes it worse.” His thumb dragged lazy circles into Liam’s skin, like it was gonna help. “Easy… breathe… c’mon.”
The first tug made Liam gasp—his hips jolted instinctively forward, ass cheeks sliding against the floor. His hole stretched, burned, ached as the bar shifted—slow, deliberate—dragging against hypersensitive nerves that were already beyond fried.
“Fuck—fuck—oh my God—” Liam choked, squirming, dick jumping around. But Noah’s grip held him firm, kept him steady, wouldn’t let him pull away.
Noah chuckled—warm, relaxed, condescending as hell. “Bro, you are so dramatic. Chill. We’re almost there.”
With one last slow drag, the bar slipped free with a plop—wet, heavy—and Noah set it aside with a metallic clank like it was just another dumbbell.
Liam collapsed—back of his head and arms to the floor, hips trembling, hole twitching around nothing now—empty, stretched, throbbing. His cock pulsed—still painfully hard, still untouched.
Noah stood—muscles flexing and sweaty back. He glanced down at Liam—collapsed, wrecked, trembling on the floor.
“C’mon.” He nudged Liam’s leg with his foot. “Your face smells like me. Let’s hit the showers. And yours is gonna be cold, okay? Gotta get you outta… you know…” His grin widened. “…cumming mode.”
Liam groaned—didn’t even have the strength to argue. His cock still throbbed between his legs like it hadn’t gotten the memo that the session was over.
Noah was already walking— throwing a towel over his shoulder, acting like none of this was unusual.
The cold shower was hell. Liam flinched the second the water hit— his whole body trembling. His cock still twitched. Still leaked. Still refused to calm down like it was permanently stuck in a feedback loop of “please, please, please—” no matter how much his brain begged for it to go down.
Noah, of course, looked fine. Relaxed. Humming to himself. Satisfied. Untouchable.
They dressed in silence— His shorts felt too tight. His briefs useless. He felt trapped.
Out in the parking lot, Noah checked his phone—then winced. “Shit! I’m late.”
The switch flipped instantly. Noah turned—stepped in close. Too close. His frame pressed in like physics itself changed. It didn’t feel like he was shorter than Liam anymore. His shoulders squared. His posture shifted. His presence swelled—like he was suddenly seven feet tall, heavier and inescapable.
Liam froze—his back hit the side of his own car.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. His voice dropped—low. Firm. Almost… menacing. “Listen to me.” A pause. “Do. Not. Cum.”
His palm pressed flat against the car next to Liam’s head, caging him in. “Do I have your word?”
Liam’s throat clicked. His legs shook. “…Y-yeah…” It came out small. Pathetic. Automatic. “You—yeah. You have my word.”
The switch flipped back and Noah smiled warm. “Awesome. See ya.”
Without another word, he spun on his heel and sprinted across the lot, disappearing like nothing happened. Leaving Liam standing there. Alone.
With his promise.
And his hard leaking cock.
The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. Liam tossed a carton of eggs into the basket, checked the little paper again, then cut down the next aisle. Oats. Almond milk. Chicken. Broccoli. Eggs. Same list, different day.
Only… It’d been days. Days. Since the last time Noah wrecked him, edged him, ruined him, left him a shaking mess on the gym floor with the barbell still shoved up his ass. And still—no release.
And yet again, they were just… normal. Really.
His phone buzzed as he reached for the oats.
He glanced down. Work e-mail.
Connor H. — “Re: Marketing touchpoints”
Seven different fonts. Three colors. One animated GIF of a saxophone-playing penguin.
He snorted softly and shook his head. Noah would absolutely lose it.
He fired off a text.
[Liam: bro just got an email from connor. seven fonts. one gif. i’m not joking]
[Noah: lmao. that’s the guy with the shaved eyebrows, right?]
[Liam: no thats ian, connor’s the one who asked the intern to rewrite his tinder bio]
[Noah: oh yeahh]
[Noah: dude all your work friends are NPCs]
[Noah: also you free saturday?]
His fingers hovered. Grip tightened on the cart handle.
[Liam: yeah. why?]
The reply hit fast.
[Noah: finally settin’ up the double date]
[Noah: me n ashley. you n claire]
[Noah: you’re in]
Brows pinched.
[Liam: didnt-go-cabin claire??]
A pause. Then—
[Noah: yup. ashley’s claire]
[Noah: anyway its all set up. ill keep u posted]
He smiled. His cart sat there half-full. Then—buzz.
[Noah: yo btw… you been keepin it together?]
Liam’s throat clicked. His pelvis twitched. Right there. In the middle of the cereal aisle.
Another damn buzz.
[Noah: didn’t cum, yeah?]
Jesus.
Fingers hovered. Type. Hesitate. Hit send.
[Liam: yea i haven’t]
Reply came immediately.
[Noah: good. proud of you]
Fuck. His stomach turned. What the hell was he supposed to say to that?
[Liam: okay]
Send.
The screen went still. His own little “okay” staring back at him. Making fun of him.
A couple passed by, chatting about pasta. Someone reached over his shoulder for oatmeal. Normal world.
Except his cock was constantly hard now. His skin was hot. And there was a text thread sitting in his phone that felt like a leash pulled tight.
He got home. Threw the bags on the counter. Took a shower. Ate. Cleaned. Zoned out on his phone. Gym. Errands. Life.
He decided not to think about it. Or tried to. At least until Saturday. Double D-day.
But when Saturday came, it hadn’t left. If anything, it sat heavier.
Getting dressed felt odd. Shirt didn’t fit right. Collar scratched his neck. Jeans sat weird on his hips. Nothing settled.
He pulled into the parking lot, stared at the bar for a second, then killed the engine.
There was a valet.
Which—what the hell? Since when did this place even have valet?
The guy stepped up to the car just as Liam was getting out—young, probably Liam’s age. Tall. Sharp jaw. The kind of face you’d expect on a Levi’s ad at the mall.
“Evening,” the guy said, smiling as he reached for the keys.
Liam handed them over, still a little thrown.
“Thanks… uh…”
“Neil,” the guy replied easily, already slipping into the driver’s seat like he belonged there.
The place was packed. Neon signs buzzed in the windows. Music thrummed through the walls.
Noah was already there—half-sprawled in the booth. Taking space. Ashley was basically in his lap, tucked under his arm, giggling at something he whispered. His hand was already on her thigh.
Claire sat across from them—pretty. Smiling. Relaxed. Her face lit up when she spotted Liam.
“Hey!” Claire stood, gave him a half-hug. Light and easy. “Finally meeting up like… not at a canceled lake trip.”
Liam laughed, rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. About time.”
Noah grinned. “Yo. Look at you, man. All dressed up.” His hand slid higher up Ashley’s thigh like it was nothing.
Ashley giggled, leaning into him.
Liam slid into the booth next to Claire. Tried to act normal.
Noah shifted, pulling his phone out of his hoodie pocket, the buzz cutting briefly through the rising noise.
He glanced at the screen, rolled his eyes.
Ashley tilted her head. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, my mom’s in full meltdown mode,” he muttered, flipping it face-down on the table. “Being dramatic. Dad has an exam tomorrow or something.”
He leaned in, kissed her neck. His hand disappeared under her skirt like nothing happened.
Menus hit the table. Drinks followed. The banter picked up fast.
Claire leaned her elbow on the table. “Okay, important question. Is fruit… a dessert?”
Ashley fake-gasped. “Yes. Obviously. Fruit’s a dessert.”
Noah scoffed. “No shot.” He slouched back, arm still behind Ashley. “Fruit’s a snack. Maybe a side. Dessert’s like… cake. Or pie. Something that wrecks your blood sugar.”
“Exactly!” Liam nodded. “If I wanted a dessert and someone handed me an apple… I’d be pissed.”
Ashley pointed a finger at him. “No! Fruit is literally nature’s dessert.”
Claire laughed, nudging Liam’s shoulder. “Thank you. It’s sweet… it’s dessert.”
Liam grinned. “Nah. Dessert’s gotta be something you regret later. Fruit’s like… fruit.”
Noah leaned in, grin widening. “Bro. Real. You don’t regret strawberries. You regret cheesecake.” His hand slid further between Ashley’s thighs, fingers definitely somewhere now that weren’t thigh. Ashley bit her lip, tucked her face into his shoulder, laughing.
Liam’s shoulders still felt a little tight. His only saving grace was that his cock was finally down, probably just from how nervous he was. Everything felt like it was just slightly misaligned. The choking weight of something invisible. A pressure no one else at the table knew about.
And it had a name.
It was grinning at him from across the table.
Then, Claire—casual, mid-sip—goes, “Oh, how was the cabin trip?”
Liam locked up. Entire body stiffened.
Noah clocked it immediately. Looked at Liam. Eyes squinted microscopically. Turned back to Claire like nothing.
“Oh, it was awesome. Super fun,” Noah said—voice casual, eyes sharp. Then back to Liam with that tilt of his head, that grin that already knew. “But hey… Liam had the most fun. Hands down. Right?”
Liam blinked. Mouth half-open. Nothing came out. His throat clicked. His cock twitched hard. Entire table turned toward him—waiting.
Noah let it stretch. A little too long. Even the girls caught it—Ashley blinking, Claire’s brows tugging in mild confusion.
Then—casual, lazy, smooth as hell—Noah swooped back in.
“Oh, right. Dude was killing it on the jetski. Like it was second nature. Couldn’t get enough, right?”
Noah didn’t stop. Smile sharpening, still pinned on Liam. “Swear to God. Never seen someone ride it like that. Bro was about to lose it. Looked like he was gonna nut, no lie.”
Liam’s brain blue-screened.
Claire, bless her, smiled. “Ohh, that sounds so cool. Was that your first time in one?”
“Y-yeah… kinda of…” He choked. Buried his face in his drink. Like it could hide him.
The conversation kept moving. Claire chatting. Ashley giggling. Noah’s hand sliding right back under Ashley’s skirt like nothing happened.
And Liam? Burning. Humiliated.
The night went on pretty uneventfully from that point on. Rock hard and uneventful.
When the check hit the table. Everyone was drunk. Laughing. Buzzed.
Noah stood first—Ashley was on him instantly. Pressed into his side like she couldn’t remember how to stand up without his bíceps to hold on to. His hand went straight to her ass. Zero shame.
“Alright,” Noah grinned, slapping the table. “We’re out.”
Ashley giggled, clinging tighter. Her hair brushed his shoulder. She waved lazily at Claire and Liam. “Let’s do this again!” Her voice was sweet. Her body language was anything but.
Noah leaned in—muttered something to Ashley as they started toward the door. She laughed, tugged at his shirt like she wanted him out of it already.
Liam shifted. Rubbed the back of his neck. Shoulders tight. His mouth opened before his brain caught up.
“So, uh… Claire… you wanna maybe—”
“Yo.”
Noah’s voice cut clean through.
He was still there. Still watching. Grin sharp. Voice lazy, fake casual, but heavy as hell.
Didn’t even look at Claire. Just Liam. Only Liam.
“Don’t forget… keep it together, yeah?”
The words hit like a slap. Tight. Precise. Straight to the gut.
Noah didn’t explain it. Didn’t wait for a reply. Didn’t need to. His eyes held Liam’s for half a second longer than anyone would call normal—just long enough to be unmistakable.
Liam’s throat clicked. His already hard cock pulsed.
Then he chuckled—warm, relaxed, like nothing happened.
“Gym stuff, Claire… Anyway, later, you two. Have fun.”
Noah disappeared—Ashley glued to him.
A little pocket of silence settled at the table. Just Liam and Claire now.
Claire exhaled a laugh, shaking her head. “He’s… intense, huh?”
Liam snorted—a little too hard, a little too loud. Coughed like he could play it off. “Uh… yeah. Yeah. Little bit.”
Claire smiled—warm, easy. No tension. Just casual. “Anyway… you wanna come over for a bit?”
Pause.
Liam blinked. Mouth half-open. Brain static.
“Uh… actually…” What am I saying?
“I don’t think I can…” Why am i doing this?
“Got an early morning, you know?” What the fuck is wrong with me?
It all came out strained. Felt wrong even as it left his mouth.
Claire didn’t even flinch. Just nodded. “Fair. Same, honestly.” No offense. No tension. Just… mature people stuff.
She stepped in. Quick hug. Friendly. Light.
“Tonight was super fun.” Then she was gone. Heading for her car.
Liam stood there. Frozen. Mouth still half open. Cock aching.
Realizing—too late, too far in—that he hadn’t said no because he wanted to.
But because…
He couldn’t?
Because somewhere, wrapped around his ribs, was a voice.
“Keep it together, yeah?”
And it didn’t even have to be there anymore to hold him down.
She was halfway to her car when it hit him—the regret, the self-loathing, the sheer awkwardness of it.
“Claire—” He blurted. Too loud. Voice cracked.
She paused, turned back. “Yeah?”
His mouth opened—brain scrambling. No idea what he was even trying to fix. No plan. Just… panic.
“Uh… let’s… let’s do this again sometime. Yeah?”
God.
He closed his eyes like he’d missed an easy touchdown.
Claire’s face softened—instantly. Sweet. Warm. Like nothing was wrong.“Yeah. Totally. I’d like that.”
She meant it. Or at least… she thought he was normal enough to mean it.
“Goodnight!” She waved. Cheerful. Stepped into her car.
Liam stood there. Jaw tight. Chest tight. Face burning.
Shoes hit pavement. Strained breaths. Thirty minutes in, and it was showing.
Noah was half a step ahead—cap pulled backwards, dirty blonde hair curling out, soaked. Sweat tracked down his neck, his jaw, disappearing into the collar of his drenched t-shirt. Shoulders flexed with every stride. Thighs tight. Calves carved. Breathing hard but looking obnoxiously fine for someone this deep into cardio.
Liam lagged. Miserable. Already felt like his lungs were vibrating. Shirt glued to his back. Thighs burning. Vision tunneling. Why the fuck did I agree to this. I don’t run. I never run. Running is literal torture.
“Bro—” Noah huffed, “—not— gasp —slowing down, are you?”
“Shut the— gasp —fuck up.”
They rounded the corner. Noah slowed, tapping his wrist like they were checking nonexistent watches. “Alright. Water.”
Liam stopped like someone unplugged him. Hands braced on his knees. Head down. Gasping. Spitting. Sweat dripping off his face like a faucet.
Noah tipped his head, adjusting his cap. Still grinning. Too smug.
“So…”—he thumbed sweat off his brow—“you’ve been keeping it together, yeah?”
Liam blinked. “Huh?”
Noah’s grin widened, teeth flashing. “Two days ago, dude.”
A beat.
Then—“Just checking you didn’t break your streak. Y’know. With Claire and all.”
Liam swallowed. Heat bloomed under his skin—not just from the run. He straightened. “She… didn’t want it.” Said it fast. Too fast. Avoided eye contact. “Didn’t go there.”
Noah didn’t reply right away.
“Oh, That so?”
Liam shook his head. Wiped his face. “Dude… I don’t even know why I’m doing this shit anymore.” His voice cracked. Frustration. Embarrassment. Chest tight. “This is fucking with my head. I think I’m done with… whatever this is. This experiment. Whatever.”
For a second, Noah was quiet. Just breathing. Watching.
Then—“Man…” His voice dropped. Softer. Calmer. “Just… trust me, okay?”
No cocky grin. No teasing. Just that.
Simple. Earnest.
Then—like nothing—Noah nudged his elbow. “C’mon. One more lap.”
And Liam? Liam ran. Because of course he did.
The door clicked shut behind them. Liam’s shoes kicked off. Socks left for dead somewhere by the entrance.
Noah pulled his cap off, shook out his hair—blonde curls matted and dripping. “Parents are still at the lake house,” he said, tossing the cap onto the counter. “Whole place’s ours.”
Liam groaned. “Lucky them…” His hands braced on his hips, breathing like he’d just fought a bear. “Bro. Never. Again. I don’t run. Running is evil. You’re evil.”
Noah snorted. “It’s cardio, man. Longevity.” He peeled his soaked shirt off mid-step, flung it toward the laundry basket—missed. Didn’t care.
Liam blinked at him. “Shower?”
Noah stretched—long, lazy, arms behind his head, ribs flaring, back popping. “Yeah… yeah. In a minute. I’m dead.”
Didn’t move. Just flopped face-first onto the couch.
Liam sighed. Watched him. Then gave up and collapsed right next to him.
Noah grunted, rolled halfway onto his side. Sat up just enough to shove off the couch, walked to the kitchen. Opened the fridge. “You want water?”
Didn’t wait for an answer. Grabbed two bottles. Walked back. Tossed one.
Liam caught it. Barely. Fumbled it against his chest. “Bro…” Cracked it open. Drank half in one go. “This is literally the worst day of my life.”
Noah dropped back onto the couch. Spread out like furniture. “Nah. You’ll live.” He cracked his own bottle. “Maybe.”
Neither of them said much after that. Just the hum of AC. The occasional click of a bottle cap. Breathing. Cooling down. Phones in hands.
Noah took another sip. Rolled the bottle between his palms. “Dude… is it really that bad?”
Liam blinked. “What?”
Noah tipped his head, leaning back against the couch. “The… y’know.” He made a vague gesture toward Liam’s lap. “The no-nut thing. Like… how bad is it?”
Liam exhaled. Scratched his jaw. Looked anywhere but at Noah. “Dude…” Sighed. “Yeah. It’s bad. It’s… really fucking bad.”
Noah’s brows raised. “Wait. How long’s it been again? I forget.”
Liam blinked. Didn’t even need to do the math. Groaned. “…Twenty-three days.”
Noah nearly choked. Sat forward. “Bro. SHIT. Dude. I forgot you’ve been like that since the fucking cabin.” He slapped Liam’s shoulder, laughing. “Bro… you must be like… wanting to nut just walking around. Just existing.”
Liam dragged both hands down his face. “Yeah. No. Literally. I can’t even fucking focus anymore. My brain’s mush. Everything’s annoying. Everything’s… heavy. I hate this.”
Noah grinned. Bit his bottom lip. Looked like he was thinking. “Damn. Okay… okay…”
A beat.
“So… here’s my offer.” Noah sat up. Leaned forward. Elbows on knees. Hands clasped. Voice calm. Measured. “We can end this. The whole thing. You can cum. Get it out. Reset.”
Liam blinked. “??”
Noah grinned wider. “Yeah. Done. Over. But…” Finger wagging. “…you gotta pass a couple tests first.”
Liam’s head snapped toward him. “Man… what the fuck. What do you mean… tests?”
Noah leaned back. Spread out. Took another sip of water like this was the most casual thing in the world. “Dude… relax. It’s fun. It’s funny. You’ll laugh.”
Noah sat up. Capped his bottle. “Alright. First test.”
Liam groaned. “…What now?”
Noah grinned. Leaned in, elbows on knees, hands clasped. “Simple.” Shrugged. “Feet. Armpits. You breathe it in. No hands. No touching.”
A beat.
“We both know you like it.” His grin widened. “That ain’t the question. And that’s fine, nobody fucking cares.”
A pause. His eyes squinted. Playful. Sharp. “The real question is… can you handle it? Can you sit through it without leaking?”
Liam’s stomach dropped. “Noah…” Hands wiped down his face. “Dude, that’s… that’s dumb.”
Noah laughed. “Exactly.” Sat back, arms draped over the couch. “It’s dumb. We’re literally bored outta our minds. And if you can handle it…” —hand flick, casual— “Done. You can nut.”
Liam rubbed the back of his neck. “…And if not?”
Noah tilted his head, grinning wider. “Bro. What’ve you got to lose?” He gestured, palm up. “You’re already not nutting. Worst case? You stay exactly where you are. Nothing changes.”
Liam blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned. Conflict. The gears were spinning.
And then—like an actual cartoon lightbulb popped on above his head—his eyes snapped wide. “Wait… wait, hold on.” He sat up, pointing. “Is THAT why you dragged me out to jog for an hour and a half?!”
Noah blinked. Innocent. Deadpan. “Huh? No. Bro. It’s cardio. Good for the heart.”
Liam squinted. “No. No, no, no. Bullshit. You knew. You knew I’d be wrecked and brain-fried. And you’d be dripping and sweaty. You planned this.”
Noah snorted. Bit his lip. Looked away. “Bro… relax. You act like you’re the main character or something.” Grinning. “Not everything’s about you.”
Liam groaned. Dropped his head back against the couch. “Jesus…” A hand dragged over his face. “You’re a psycho.”
Noah shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah. So?.”
Liam paused. Sighed. “…Fine.”
Noah’s grin split wide. “Bet.”
Noah clapped his hands once. Sat forward. “Alright. Strip.”
Liam stared.
Noah grinned. “C’mon. Clothes off. You gotta be honest for this. Full data collection.” Liam rolled his eyes. But… stood up anyway. Peeled his shirt off. Dropped it on the floor. Shorts next. Briefs. His cock was already half-hard. Twitching.
Noah’s grin split wider. Sat back, arms spread across the couch like he was conducting an interview. “Damn…” Head tilted. “You’re lucky I’m fair, man. Test ain’t about getting boned up. You’d have lost just looking at my feet.”
Liam exhaled. “Dude…” Then dropped his hands, glaring. “Who’s the main character now, huh? I told you. This. This is just… my life right now.”
Noah laughed. “Real.” Then leaned forward. Fingers hooked under his shoes. Popped one off. Then the other. Liam blinked. Froze. Eyes went wide. “Come on! You didn’t wear socks again?!”
His stomach dropped.
"We’ve jogged for more than an hour, man…”
Noah blinked back—mock surprised. “Oh nooo…” Hand to his chest, fake scandalized. “Must’ve… slipped my mind.” Grin widening, teeth flashing. “Well… what’re you gonna do, right?”
Noah leaned back. Slouched into the couch like it was a throne. Legs spread. Arm draped over the backrest. Smug. Relaxed. Completely in control.
“Alright…” He tapped his knee. “I’ll be sittin’ like this.” A little shrug. “You kneel. Right there.” Tilted his head, motioned at the floor directly between his legs. “Front row seats, man.”
Liam swallowed. His knees felt weak before he even hit the floor. But he did it. Dropped down. Right in front of Noah. His cock twitched—already pulsing, heavy, bobbing between his thighs.
Noah grinned. “Kay… rules.” He leaned forward a little. Fingers steepled. “A minute. Each foot. You sniff. No hands. No touching. You leak…” —he flicked his chin— “you lose.”
His eyes squinted. Playful. Mean. “Be real, man. Fair test. Gotta prove you can handle it.”
Liam’s mouth opened. Looked away. Back. “Dude…” Paused. “Ok.”
Noah chuckled. “Awesome.” Then lifted his right ankle. Shifted. Pulled one foot forward—planting it right in front of Liam’s face. Bare. Damp. Warm.
The scent hit immediately. Thick. Dense. Sour-salty. Hours of cardio, weightlifting, post-run filth. It wrapped around Liam’s brain like a weighted blanket. Heavy. Smothering.
Noah clicked his phone. “Timer’s on. Go.”
Liam tipped forward. Breath hitched. Nostrils flared. Full inhale. Instant. His cock jumped. His spine shuddered. Knees wobbled.
Half of his brain screamed what the fuck are you doing—the other half drowned in the dizzy, intoxicating fog of Noah’s smell.
The weight of it pressed into his head, behind his eyes, down his throat. Warm. Damp.
Noah chuckled, tipping his head back. Watching like he was checking out the weather. “Fucking A… They reek, I can smell them from here, how do you like them so much?”
Liam didn’t reply.
Fifty-eight seconds later—“Alright. Next one.” Noah nudged Liam’s chin sideways with his foot like he was turning a toy. Then swapped. Left foot forward.
New hit. Fresh wave. Different but the same. Deeper.
Noah smiled—mean. Playful. “Here… have a bit more, little buddy.”
Before Liam could even process it, Noah grabbed the back of his head—steady—and shoved his sole flush against his face. Full contact. Nose buried. Skin to skin. Damp. Warm. Suffocating.
“C’mon…” Noah chuckled. “Get in there.”
Liam’s breath hitched—eyes fluttered. Spine locked. His whole chest stuttered like he forgot how to breathe but couldn’t stop breathing anyway.
The scent hit harder—like it multiplied. It was wet. Hot. All salt and skin and Noah.
It hit him instantly—he could feel it. The heat pooling in his cock. The pressure. The telltale swell that meant yeah… he was gonna start leaking if he wasn’t careful.
Why the fuck does this even hit me like this… He didn’t get it. Didn’t understand why it short-circuited his brain like this. Why it felt like this.
But he locked in. Focused.
It’s fine. I can handle it.
All he had to do… was not throb. Not contract. Not squeeze. If he just… let it sit there, let it stay heavy and full, let the pressure build without twitching, the pre wouldn’t come out.
It’d stay trapped. Right there. Right inside his cock.
Just don’t flex.
Don’t fucking flex.
BEEP.
Noah tipped his head toward the sound. Checked his phone. “Aaaand… time.”
Liam jolted like someone yanked the cord out of his brain. Backed up—collapsed onto his heels. Chest heaving. Face flushed.
Noah stretched—casual. Leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Alright. Lemme check.”
Liam’s face caught fire but he didn’t move.
But Noah was already looking. Leaned down. Eyes dropped straight to Liam’s dick. Head tilted. Squinting. Casual. Zero filter.
He paused.
“Humm.” Noah squinted harder. “Dude…” He leaned closer, elbows on his knees now. “I swear… I think I can actually see it. Like… sitting there. Right at the tip. Inside.”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Just… waiting.”
Noah sat back. Shrugged. “Meh. Not gonna call it. Close, but…” Hand flick. “Let’s see how you handle part two.”
Then thumbed over his shoulder. “C’mere. Couch. You’re gonna sit on each side.”
Liam’s legs barely worked. He stood. Stumbled. Moved like he wasn’t in charge of his own body anymore—like something else was puppeteering him from behind his ribcage.
Noah sat back, spreading wide—arms draped over the couch back, cap turned backwards. Then he lifted both arms. Casual. Natural. Shoulders up. Elbows wide. Open. Offered.
The smell hit before Liam even sat.
Thick. Wet. So fucking wet. Pungent. Deeper than his feet. Hotter. Closer. Like something fermented in sunlight and testosterone.
Liam slid onto Noah’s right side. Swallowed. His whole body shivered. Nostrils flared. He leaned in. Inches from Noah’s skin.
Instantly. His head buzzed. His lips parted without meaning to. His cock wanted, needed, to twitched, he could feel the pressure building inside.
It was like the pre was… coming up. Rising. Filling. He could feel it pushing forward, bubbling right to the tip, sitting there.
Don’t flex. Don’t flex. Don’t fucking flex.
Noah chuckled, voice lazy, vibrating right against Liam’s cheek. “Damn, bro… you are in it. Look at you.”
The timer beeped.
Noah tipped his head. “Alright. Swap.”
Liam dragged himself around like a man trying to fight gravity. Moved to Noah’s left side. Sat down. Took a breath—
Didn’t even get the chance to lean in.
Noah grabbed the back of his head. “Nah… get in there.”
And shoved.
Liam’s face sank straight into it. Nose buried. Cheek smushed to damp skin. The scent hit three times harder. Manly as fuck. Ripe. Felt the wet on his lips;
His neck jolted. His mouth opened—a moan punched out before he could stop it.
“Nnghhhhuuum—”
Noah grinned. “Damn… brain’s cookin’, huh?” He tipped his head, squinted like he was thinking.
Liam’s cock jumped slightly.
He felt it. Felt the slick pressure pushing forward—up his shaft. Gathering.
No—no, no, no, no, no—Please.
Don’t clench. Don’t squeeze. Don’t.
It was like walking a tightrope over a volcano. His entire existence was the muscle control between “stay full” and “explode.”
Noah grinned. Smug. Lazy and relaxed. Arms still wide. “There you go, little buddy. Deep breaths. All in. Just… soak it up.”
Didn’t even bother looking down. Didn’t have to. He fucking knew what he was doing.
BEEP.
Liam jolted like his spinal cord finally remembered it had a job. Pulled his face back—face red, skin burning, cock aching.
Noah was already looking. Didn’t even wait. Tilted forward, elbows on his knees. Squinting. “Let’s see what’s up.”
Liam glanced down too—just as curious. Just as anxious.
And there it was.
Right at the tip. Swelling. Drooping. Rising. Drooping again. A full, fat bead of pre cum—still inside. Still technically trapped. Flickering like a water droplet about to fall but refusing to cross the line.
Liam’s whole body locked. Throat dry. “It’s not leaking.” Wiped sweat from his face. “I pass.”
Noah grinned. “Not so fast, champ.”
Then stood.
Thumbed his waistband. Yanked his shorts down.
BOOM.
Cock out. Fat. Pulsing. Already hard. Pre fuck. Already sliding right down the shaft, collecting at the head, running over his fingers when he casually gave it a lazy squeeze.
“One more test.”
Cock right there. Pointed dead at Liam’s face.
Noah thumbed his cock lazily—casual—grin wide, teeth flashing. “Alright… last one. Simple.”
Noah stepped forward. Closer.
“You’re gonna sit there on the couch. Hold my cock. Get it real close. Like…” He tapped his own shaft. “Right up to your nose.”
Liam blinked. “…Bro.”
Noah kept going. Grin widening. “Other hand’s gonna pull the foreskin back when I say. Slow. All the way. Yeah?” He mimed it—thumb and forefinger rolling back. “Then… deep breath. No half-ass shit. You fill your lungs. All the way.”
Liam’s whole chest caved. “Dude—that wasn’t the deal.”
Noah tilted his head. Played innocent. “It absolutely was.” Hands spread. “I never specified what the tests were.”
A beat. Smirk sharpening. “C’mon, dude. You’re so close. Chill. You’re almost passing. I thought you needed to cum.”
Liam dragged his hands down his face. Groaned. Throat tight. Mind screaming. “Jesus…” A pause. Then… “…Fine. Fuck.”
Noah’s grin split. Bit his bottom lip. “Yeah… c’mon… you’re gonna breathe the pheromones straight outta my cock.” Laugh. Full chest.
Liam jerked his head up, face red. “…Do you have to say it like that?”
Noah tipped his head, mock thoughtful. Smiled wider. “Oh, sorry. Was that not classy enough for you?” He tapped Liam’s forehead, laughing. “My bad. Jane Austen of sniffing cock over here.”
Liam ignored him. His hands shook. Trembled. But they moved anyway—like they weren’t even his anymore.
Fingers wrapped around Noah’s cock. Slick. Skin flushed, veins thick, pulsing under his grip. It kicked once in his hand—like it felt him.
The smell hit before Noah even spoke. Pure hormonal sweat, testosterone, pre cum.
Fucking hell… Liam’s eyes fluttered. His spine buzzed. His lips parted inadvertently.
One sniff. One. You get in, you get out. Don’t move. Don’t flex. Don’t…
Noah’s voice dropped—low. Smooth. Command. “Go.”
His other hand slid up. Gripped the foreskin. Slid it back—slow. Wet glide. Peeled the head fully bare. Shiny. Swollen. Dripping.
Liam leaned in. Nose right up to it. Closer than anything should ever be.
Inhale.
The second air hit his lungs—it was fucking over.
Like something detonated inside his skull. His mouth fell open. His back arched. His whole body tipped—tilted—unplugged from reality.
“FuuuuuuUUUUUUUCCCKKKKKK—”
It ripped out of him. Loud. Helpless. Humiliating.
And right then—his cock flexed, hard.
Didn’t even mean to. Didn’t even realize. His hips jumped. Shaft kicked.
A massive glob of pre cum shot out—thick. Hit his thigh.
Then—the dam broke.
A second pulse—a river. Clear slick spilled right out of his piss slit. Down his shaft. Onto his own lap. Dripping off his balls. Kept coming. Wouldn’t stop.
Liam still had his face up Noah’s cock, eyes fluttering.
Noah watched it all unfold. Smiling—wide. Mean. Mesmerized.
“…Bro,” He was elated. oh my fucking God!”
Chuckled—deep in his chest. “Whoa, little buddy… you… you didn’t even last half a second. You legit… broke off the smell of my cock. You’re actually addicted to my funk.”
Liam stayed still, sitting back on the couch. In his own precum mess. Cock still twitching. Chest heaving. Face on fire. Hands limp. Brain absolutely cooked.
“…Wh… what the fuc…”. His voice cracked—small—a third a whisper. A third to himself. The rest to the universe. His eyes were wide. Blinking like he just got hit by a car. “What the… what the fuck…”
His hands lifted halfway like they were gonna grab his hair, then dropped again. “Dude. What the fuck. What the ACTUAL…”
Noah stood there. Watching. Grinning like he just won the lottery. Hands on his hips.
“Bro…” Breathed out a laugh. “Bro… you are… fed. You are COOKED. I can’t—I cannot believe…” His hands flailed. “Bro… you folded. You folded to a fucking sniff. My cock. My sweaty fucking cock broke you.”
He Paced. Ran a hand through his curls, cap still on. Shook his head—still laughing. Wiped his own dick off lazily with his shirt like this was just cardio. “Dude… bro… I’m actually crying.”
Liam stared down. At nothing. “…Humm…” Breath shuddered. Couldn’t look at Noah. Couldn’t look at anything. His brain didn’t even have thoughts. Just… white noise.
Noah saw it and softened. Shoulders dropped. Less sharp. More… smug friend now. Nudged Liam’s leg with his foot. “Hey. You’re not getting in your head again, right?”
Sat down next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. Arm over the couch. Like nothing happened. Like they were just chilling.
Liam groaned. Palmed his face. Shoulders tight. Breathing shaky.
Then—without meaning to—he glanced. Looked for Noah.
Like his brain was crawling, searching for anything stable. Some way to ask—without fully asking—“Was that… actually okay?”
“Dude…” Liam’s voice cracked. Quiet. “…I reacted… like…” His hands flailed, useless. “…I don’t even know, man…”
Looked at Noah. Really looked. Eyes wide. Needing. “That was… like… not weird, right? I mean… like… it’s not…” His mouth opened, closed. “Not… actually messed up that… that happened?”
Noah caught it instantly. Grinned lazy. Nudged his shoulder. “Dude. No. Chill. You’re fine. It’s fine. We’re good.”
Leaned back, totally sprawled. “Bro. You felt good. I felt good. It was funny. Who gives a flying fuck. Don’t start getting all philosophical on me.”
Liam blinked. Swallowed. “…I mean… yeah… yeah… okay…” Nod. Small. “Right. Yeah. Yeah…”
Noah smirked—grinned wider. “Bro. C’mon. This is literally what my gym buddies do. We mess around. Crack jokes. Fuck with each other. You’re just… easy to mess with. That’s all.”
A pause. He tipped his head. “Ain’t gotta be deeper than that, man. You’re overthinking it. Stop looking for meaning in that shit.”
A beat. Grin split sharper. “…Except the part where I own your ass now. That part’s real.”
Liam dragged both hands down his face. “…Jesus Christ…” But his voice was softer now. Less panicked. Less scrambled. Still embarrassed… but also… reassured.
Noah kicked his legs up, stretching out like a king. “Anyway…” He yawned. Casual. Way too casual. “Test’s over.”
Liam blinked. Finally. Thank God.
“…And you failed.”
Liam’s head snapped toward him. Eyes big.
Noah shrugged, grinning. “Dude. Look at you.” He gestured lazily at the mess in Liam’s lap. His cock still twitching and leaking. “Bro… river. Flood. Niagara fuckin’ Falls of pre-fuck.”
Liam’s stomach dropped. “Dude—no. No, no, no. That—no. That wasn’t—” His hands flailed, palms up. “That wasn’t even part of the test! You added that!”
Noah tipped his head, mocking. “Ohhh, right. My bad. Did I forget to include ‘sniff my cock like a Dyson vacuum’ on the syllabus?” His grin sharpened. “Bro. C’mon. You agreed.”
“You said—feet and pits! You didn’t say that thing was included!” Liam was half laughing, half actually spiraling. “Dude. That’s not fair. I have to fucking cum!”
Noah tilted his head. Shrugged. “Life’s not fair, little buddy.”
Liam groaned. Head in hands. “Dude… please. I—bro, look at me. Just… cut me a break, man. This wasn’t even—”
Noah clicked his tongue. Sat forward. Hands on knees. “Nah. Rules are rules.”
Liam groaned. “Jesus… come on…”
A pause.
Then Noah snapped his fingers. Sat up straighter. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait…”
A grin started—slow. Spreading. Dangerous.
“Actually…” Noah’s eyes lit up. “I do have an idea.”
Liam blinked. Froze. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes.”
Noah leaned back. Smug. Lazy. Like a cat who just figured out how to open the treat drawer. “One more shot. One more chance. I’ll make you a deal.”
His eyes glinted.
Liam groaned, already bracing. “God…”
“No, no, hear me out.” Noah leaned in, hands clasped like a sleazy car salesman. Grin splitting wider. “It’s simple. You make me cum…”
Pause.
Liam blinked. Sat back. Shoulders slumped. “That’s it? Bro, fine. Whatever. Deal.”
Noah waited.
Liam frowned. “…What?”
Noah’s grin widened. Sharp. Predatory. “Without your hands.”
A silence.
Liam froze.
Realization.
Then anxiety.
Then dread.
Eyes widened. Brain doing the math like it wished it could delete itself from the equation. “…Wait. Wait—bro. Dude. You can’t mean—”
Noah just sat there. Smiling. Calm. Watching the gears spin and jam. “I’m not fucking meaning anything, dude. I only gave you the rules of the game.” His grin sharpened. “You do whatever you want.”
Liam’s eyes closed. His knees bounced. Mind scrambled. No fucking way. There had to be a workaround.
He paused.
Then—lightbulb.
“…Wait.” Liam sat up straighter. Pointed. “What about my… feet?”
Noah blinked. Slow. Then snorted. Covered his mouth like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Dude… DUDE. Bro. You… you’re gonna try and foot me off?”
Liam’s ears burned. “It counts. I’m not using my hands.”
Noah tipped his head back. Laughed. Full body. Shoulders shaking. “Jesus Christ…” Wiped a tear. “Fine. Be my guest.” Grin split wider. “But there’s no fucking shot I’m nuttin’ off your nasty-ass feet. I’m not into that shit like you are, little buddy. But hey…” Hands up. “Go wild.”
Noah dropped back onto the couch—lazy, sprawling—one leg up on the cushions, knee bent, the other stretched out toward the floor. Arms spread wide over the backrest. His cock sat there. Thick. Slicked up. Hard, pointing at Noah’s abs.
Liam sat opposite—knees up on the other end of the couch. Staring. Face burning. Calculating.
How the fuck was he supposed to do this.
He scooted closer. Chewed his lip. Tried grabbing the cock with one foot. Slipped. Tried again. No grip. His heel dragged down Noah’s shaft—awkward, clumsy—nearly sent it popping loose. “Dude…” Noah snorted, grin lopsided. “Bro. What are you doing.”
“Shut up,” Liam snapped. Adjusted. Got both feet in. Clutched Noah’s dick between his arches. Ankles squeezed. Wobbly. Sloppy.
Then started. Up. Down. Up. Down.
It felt… dumb. Like wrangling na oily wet balloon. His feet skidded over slick skin—pre making it worse—couldn’t get a rhythm, couldn’t get pressure. His knees shook just trying to hold it steady, especially after having jogged.
Noah sighed.
Then—reached over. Grabbed his phone off the coffee table. Unlocked it. Scrolled.
The Tiktok algorithm started playing—some dumb audio about gym fails. Noah grinned. Tapped like. Swiped.
Liam blinked. Jaw dropped. “…The fuck?”
No response. Noah shifted—adjusted his leg lazily. “Nah, keep goin’. You’re doin’ great.”
Liam scowled. Squeezed harder. Ankles locked. Tried going faster. Slower. Changed the angle. Nothing. Noah didn’t even twitch. It throbbed sometimes—pulsed—like a muscle flexing. Smearing slick every time.
Noah bit his lip—chuckling at something on screen. Didn’t even look down. “Yo… that cat just fell in the bathtub. Look.”
“Bro!” Liam barked, cock throbbing, feet cramping. “Focus!”
Noah finally glanced down. “Bro… nah. This ain’t it.” Stood. Grabbed his shorts off the floor. “I’m done. Gonna get dressed.”
Liam watched.
Froze.
“…Wait…” Fuck.
Noah didn’t turn around. Just slung his shorts over one shoulder. “Hm?” Voice breezy. Casual.
Liam’s throat clicked. Hands tightened. Shoulders locked. “So… does that mean…”
Noah glanced over his shoulder—pretending. Big, innocent doe eyes. “Spit it out.”
Liam’s whole body tensed. “So I’ll… cum, ok?”
Noah tilted his head. Blinked. Played dumb so hard. “Huh? Did I miss something? You didn’t make me cum.” Threw a shrug. “Rules are rules. You don’t get to cum either.”
Liam squirmed. “Duuude…” Swallowed. Felt his face burn. “I gotta cum and… like…”
Noah blinked. Stone-faced. “What?”
A beat.
“Say it.”
Silence.
Liam’s fists balled. Shoulders snapped tight. His face contracted—humiliation, frustration, everything piling at once.
“Dude…” His voice cracked. “…Just—fuck… Do you want me to suck your dick or something!?”
Noah blinked.
Paused.
Brows lifted. Surprised. “…Wait. Bro…” His palms came up, half a shrug, half a silente. “You wanna suck my dick?”
Liam nearly exploded. “Dude—fuck off!—I obviously don’t!” He threw his hands up too. “I just—dude—you said—if I made you cum—I get to cum—and now you’re pulling this—this… whatever this is! You keep making me jump through hoops like—like—”
His mouth opened, but the rest collapsed into a flustered, scrambled noise. “Jesus—”
“Damn, dude…” He stood still. “I didn’t even say anything… You’re the one offering. Chill the fuck out.”
Liam groaned. Palmed his face. “Listen…” Breath heavy. “I don’t wanna. I just…” Voice faltering. “…I just… wanna cum. Okay?”
Noah tilted his head. “Yeah, fine, jeez… You can suck me off. I don’t care.”
A pause.
Liam stared. Shit. He needed to fucking cum. Bad.
Noah plopped back onto the couch. Arms spread behind his head. Legs wide. Relaxed like he was waiting for an Uber—not for someone to suck his dick. His grin curved lazy. Sharp. He locked eyes with Liam.
Didn’t say a word.
No need. The message was loud and clear.
Liam swallowed. Shifted. Knees wobbled. Started moving forward—then paused. Froze halfway down.
“…Wait…” His voice cracked. “…Can you… dunno… can you shower first?”
Noah blinked in disbelief.
Then—snorted. Covered his mouth. Shoulders bounced. “Bro…” He dropped his hand. Grinned wider. “Are you actually serious right now?”
Noah leaned in. Elbows on his knees. Full disbelief. “Dude. DUDE. You were literally rolling your fuckin’ eyes and leaking BAD back when you sniffed my cock like once.” His grin split sharper. “If anything? My sweaty cock’s a bonus for you.”
Slouched back again. One hand casually wrapped around the base—held it upright. Presented. Displayed. Cock fat, flushed, slick. Veins bulging. Head shiny and swollen.
“C’mon, man. This is getting annoying.” His voice dipped—lower. Meaner. Lazier. “Look… I’m even holdin’ it for you.”
Liam closed his eyes in resignation. And moved off the couch.
His knees hit the carpet. His face inched forward—closer—closer.
The smell hit first.
Dense. The same fog that ruined his brain earlier—only worse now. Worse because it wasn’t just a test. Worse because this time…
His lips hovered. Breathing got shallow. His cock twitched and he could feel it leaking again—like it felt the scent. His head buzzed. He felt… something. Something gross. Something terrifying. Something… else. His own pulse vibrated behind his ears.
Noah didn’t move. Kept smiling. Watching.
Liam hovered.
Breath hitching. Hands shaky. Every muscle in his body locked between run and submit.
And then—
His lips parted. Barely.
The head pushed past. Liam winced.
Slick. Hot. His jaw stretched wide, tongue flattening on instinct. The sweat-click taste hit before he even processed the weight. Thick skin. Smooth. Warm. Pulsing. His whole mouth flooded with it. It barely fit in.
And in that exact second—something broke.
Like an elastic band inside his brain snapped. Gone. No more tension. No more resistance.
Noah heard it. The snap. Could swear he did. His grin widened—slow. Dangerous. His hand tightened at the base—holding it steady.
“Well… shit.” His voice dropped, lazy. “Look at that… See? Not so bad, huh, little buddy?”
Liam’s eyes squeezed shut. His knees dug into the carpet. Shoulders hunched tight.
It was bad.
His tongue shifted—felt everything. The taste. The heat. The weight. The texture. It buzzed in his mind, in his bones, in his cock. He wasn’t even moving yet—just sitting there with Noah’s cock head in his mouth—and his own cock throbbed like it was getting stroked.
Noah chuckled—deep. Smooth. “C’mon. You’re here now. Might as well do it right.” His fingers tapped Liam’s cheek—lazy. Teasing. “Yeah? Try a little deeper…”
Liam breathed.
“Yeah… c’mon, you got it.”
Defeated. His head tilted forward anyway.
His lips slid further. The shaft pushed in—hot, slick, pulsing against his tongue. His jaw ached. His throat tried to lock. His fingers clenched into fists against his thighs.
Noah tipped his head back. Grinned wider. “Atta boy…” Voice soft. Sweet. Mocking. “You’re doing so well…”
His fingers combed through Liam’s hair now—slow. Gentle. Patronizing. “Uhumm… there you go… Deep breaths… Keep going further.”
Liam’s heart jackhammered. His mind spun. His cock… twitched. Leaked.
And he didn’t know—couldn’t even tell anymore—why.
Liam slid forward.
A little more.
A little further.
His lips dragged past the ridge—slick, swollen, throbbing—and the shaft slid over his tongue. His jaw strained. His throat tensed.
A third of Noah’s 9 fat inches in—
His gag reflex snapped.
“Nghh—!” He jolted. Chest convulsed. His hands flung back, bracing on Noah’s thighs. His whole body pitched—like he was gonna pull off—like he had to—
But Noah’s hand was already there.
Firm. Heavy. Palmed the back of Liam’s head—held him steady. Didn’t shove. Didn’t force. Just… held.
“Hey, hey…” Noah’s voice dropped. Low. Smooth. Condescending. “Shhh… Relax… Relax. You’re good.”
His palm dragged lazy over Liam’s hair. Fingers combed through. Calm. Gentle. “It’s just a gag, little buddy. Happens.”
Liam’s breath shuddered. His lungs clawed for air. His thighs trembled.
“Don’t take me out of your mouth,” Noah murmured. Grin curling. “Yeah? Just… slow. Try again.”
A pause.
His thumb traced Liam’s temple—soft. Sweet. “You’re doin’ amazing… Seriously.”
Liam’s mouth twitched. His eyes squeezed shut, tearing up. His breathing—ragged. Harsh.
But he didn’t pull off.
Or fought.
His head tilted—forward. Again.
Slower this time.
Noah’s grin split wider. “Yeah… there you go…” Voice syrup-thick. “Go for it, little buddy.”
Liam’s lips dragged down. His throat clicked. His jaw stretched.
His cock—still going crazy—buzzed like it was wired to every humiliating second.
His lips continued further—cock slick, pulsing, leaking onto his tongue.
Then—
There. He felt it. Again. The head nudged the back of his throat. A wall. A limit. His body jolted again.
Noah grinned—teeth sharp. Lazy. Mean. “Ohhh… yeah. Right there.” His fingers tightened in Liam’s hair. “That’s the back’a your throat, huh?”
His palm smoothed down the back of Liam’s head—firm. Steady. “Alright. Let’s do this together, ok, little buddy?”
“Relax your throat… breathe… You got this… Relax”
And then—pressure.
Noah’s hand guided down. Not rough. Not cruel. Just… inevitable. Smooth. Steady and absolute.
Liam panicked. His throat fluttered. Fought. Tried—focused—to relax— He could feel Noah’s cock pressing, harder now.
And then—
POP.
Noah’s cock slipped past it.
Abrupt. Two thirds of his dick buried straight down Liam’s throat. The weight—sudden. The stretch—violent. Liam’s lips strained against the shaft.
Noah’s whole body seized.
“MOOOOOooothER FUCKEEER—”
Head kicked back. Spine arched. Fingers clawed into Liam’s hair. His thighs twitched—flexed.
“FUCK YOU—YOU…”
He held Liam down—stuck. Six full seconds. Liam fighting against him. Throat locked around the thick, leaking cock. The scent. The taste. The weight. The heat. All of it.
He gagged. Hands scrambled uselessly at Noah’s thighs. His knees slipped on the carpet. His throat seized. His lungs clawed for air.
And then—
Noah let go.
Liam ripped back—collapsed. Mouth popped off with a wet gasp. He fell onto his palms—heaving. Drool stringing from his lips. Tears streaking down his face. Chest electric. Sobbing for air.
His cock leaking more and more. A puddle spreading underneath him. Clear slick dripping down his shaft. His thighs. His knees. His balls. Everywhere.
Noah sprawled—spread wide. Grinning like the devil. One hand behind his head. The other lazily stroking his soaked, twitching cock.
“Bro…” His voice cracked—high—wrecked. A breathless laugh. “Holy… shit.”
“You’re a natural.”
Liam wiped his mouth. Gasping. Spit and drool smeared across his chin. His eyes were red—wrecked. Throat burning. Knees trembling.
“…Dude…” His voice cracked. Barely there. “I… I don’t… I don’t think I can… I don’t wanna…”
His head dropped. Shoulders shaking. “I’m done. I… I can’t.”
Noah glanced down.
Paused.
Looked at Liam.
Then looked right at Liam’s cock. Flat.
“Yeah?” Voice lazy. Sharp. “You sure, little buddy?”
A nod toward the floor. “’Cause your tiny little dick doesn’t seem to agree…”
Liam blinked. Looked down.
His cock was a disaster. Red. Not even throbbing. Jumping around. Glistening.
Noah leaned back. One hand wrapped lazy around his own shaft—still slick from Liam’s throat spit. The head flushed. Swollen. Twitching. “Bro… I’m almost there… Look…”
His thumb dragged over the tip—collected the bead of slick—smoothed it down the shaft like it was nothing.
“Don’t you wanna cum?” Voice dipping—concerned. “This is just hazing. Chill. Don’t start freaking out on me now.”
Liam’s breath hitched. His skin crawled. His thighs clenched.
And… yeah.
Yeah. He had to cum.
There was no way he wasn’t cumming today. His body couldn’t take it. His balls couldn’t take it. His brain couldn’t take it.
Liam swallowed. Shoulders sagged. His hands trembled. “…Okay…” His voice barely a whisper. “Okay… okay… I’ll… I’ll do it…”
But— “…Just…” His throat clicked. Eyes squeezed shut. “don’t… don’t cum in my mouth…”
Noah’s head tipped back—laughed. Shoulders bouncing. Hand over his face. “Bro… really?” Snorted. Grinned wider. “Dude. You’ve literally tasted me… like… a lot already.”
Liam winced. “Not like this… please man… please…” His voice cracked—thin. Almost like… like he was begging for some tiny scrap of dignity. Anything.
Noah looked at him. For a second—just one—his face softened. Rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah… fine.” Shrug. “Whatever. Won’t nut in your mouth. Chill.”
A pause.
“But…” His grin came back. Dangerous. Lazy. “Jerk that little thing. Slow. Yeah? While you’re down there. It might give you some additional incentive.”
He leaned back. Legs spread. Cock in hand. Thumbs the tip lazily. “C’mon, little buddy. Round two.”
“Get back on it.”
Liam knelt back down.
His breath was shaky. Lips parted again. The taste still lingered, thick and vivid. His fingers wrapped around himself—slow—hesitant. Still aching, still leaking. So close he couldn’t think straight.
Noah leaned back, arm thrown lazily over the couch. His other hand guided himself toward Liam’s mouth again, casual like he was flipping through channels.
“Jerk yourself off,” he said, slow, like he was talking to a kid tying his shoes. “While you take me deeper, yeah?”
Liam blinked up at him. Mouth filled with cock. Tongue darting. He tried to answer, but it came out messy—slurred and wet.
Noah chuckled. “That’s a yes.” His voice dropped low. “Good boy.”
Then he moved. Not rough. Just steady. Confident. Pushed Liam down again.
After some time that same sound happened. That same pressure on his throat. Liam’s lips stretched, jaw open wide, drooling over Noah’s cock. His grip on himself tightened, instinctively stroking—but slow, slow, like he was afraid to move too fast.
Noah groaned. “And… there we go…” His eyes fluttered. One hand on Liam’s head now. Guiding. Encouraging. “Shh, shh, you’re okay. Just not used to a cock being this big. It’ll get better, I promise.”
Noah’s hand came to rest on the back of Liam’s head again—light, but firm.
“Let’s try this one more time, yeah?” His voice was low. Steady. Sweet like poison. “Take a deeeeeep breath.”
Liam stiffened. Moaned in anticipation of the disconfort that awaited. Mouth stretched.
“Hnggguuumm…”
The pressure started.
Gentle.
Steady.
Insistent.
Noah guided him down, inch by inch. A slow descent. His other hand kept steady at the base, keeping everything aligned, everything aimed. Liam’s shoulders tensed. His hands gripped his own thighs then Noah’s thighs. He took more and more cock. The pressure built.
And again—
POP.
The sound was soft. Wet.
“oooooOOOHHH FUCKKKK—” Noah jumped.
Liam was stroking, deep in it now. Body twitching. Cock twitching harder. Close. Way too close. His strokes got a little faster without meaning to, mouth working on instinct, not thought. He wasn’t even aware he had taken the cock past his throat. And the more he did—the more he swallowed—somehow, it felt like he was getting closer.
Like if he could just take all of Noah, really take him, he’d finally tip over. Finally fucking cum. Finally. Finally.
Noah noticed. Felt it. Liam kept going deeper and deeper. His breath caught. His hand—still at the back of Liam’s head—tightened just a little.
“…UUUUHNNNN— what the FUCK” His voice was hoarse. A low rasp. Somewhere between amusement and disbelief. “Jesus, dude… ooooooOOOOOhhhh”
Liam wasn’t aware anymore. He was too busy chasing his own nut through Noah’s cock. Strokes got sloppier. More desperate. He tilted forward a little more, lips gliding further—eager and uncoordinated.
Noah’s free hand hovered like it didn’t know whether to stop Liam or help him. Instead—it landed on Liam’s shoulder. Gripped. Anchored.
“Hey… fuck, hey, EASYYY…little buddy, you—if you keep swallowing me like that…” He shifted. Tensed. “Fuck, I’m GONNA…” But Liam didn’t stop. “…nut in your fucking throat.”
His voice cracked.
Then Liam pushed. One more inch. Then another. Constant.
His nose hit the full of Noah’s pubes. Mouth gaping obscenely around the base. Eyes crossing. Drooling on Noah’s balls. Full 9 inches of fat, 19 year old, personal trainer, sweaty cock inside him.
Noah flinched. He felt the head of his cock massaged by Liam’s desperation. Fully inside Liam now.
Eyes blew wide. “YOOOOOOOOOO—DUDE. HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!” His body trembled. Mouth opened.
Then—Noah opened his eyes.
And something changed.
“OOOoohhhh… FUCK IT. I warned you.” Noah muttered.
The shift was immediate. He reached forward suddenly, both hands searching Liam’s chest. Then his fingers were on Liam’s nipples, rougher than they should’ve been, like he was done being patient.
“Keep swallowing me, little buddy—Imma fill your stomach with my cum,” Noah commanded. “I’m so fucking DEEP in you.”
Liam moaned loudly around Noah’s cock, eyes rolling back. Like he was short-circuiting. His fist was a blur. Tears clinging to his lashes. And he didn’t stop. Just stayed there—deep—sunk in sweaty pubes— the closer he got to Noah, the closer he was to nirvana. Head pressed forward again, without thinking. Without restraint. Without hesitation.
Noah froze. Groaned—loud. Eyes wide.
Liam’s muffled breath. Noah’s broken gasps.
Liam’s legs shook. His hand accelerated on his cock.
“DON’T stop!” Noah’s voice hitched—shaky, panicked, amazed. “Holy shit. Bro. BRO—BROOOOoooooooo”
And he fucking came.
He felt the ropes of his jizz shooting out in Liam’s throat. Deep. Then his cock pulsed another, stretching Liam from the inside. Then a third. Noah was still twitching, one hand in Liam’s hair, the other grabbing at the couch like it might anchor him back to Earth. His head fell back, mouth open in a wordless groan.
Noah’s breath stuttered, a manly moan tearing out of his throat. His hand clamped down on Liam’s hair. “Yeahhhh—fuck—lemme me feed you, lil’ buddy,” he gasped, eyes fluttering, still cumming. “Keep swallowing, don’t fucking stop swallowing me.”
And then it hit Liam too. When he felt the fourth cumrope inside his esophagus. His nipples melting around his buddy’s fingers.
Liam came.
It didn’t feel like coming.
It felt like dissolving.
Like something inside him faded and let go—some tight, pathetic part that had been holding on for days, maybe weeks. His eyes fluttered shut, mouth wrenched open on Noah’s throbbing cock, and he came in his own hand, gasping, trembling, SOBBING against Noah’s pubes. Throat full of pulsing cock.
“UM—mmmh—MHUUUMMHGGGGGMMMMMM—hhhHHHHHHHHHH—”
Noah looked down, smiling, orgasm almost done. “Awww, little buddy,” he chukled, breathless. “Cumming with my big cock stuck inside your throat, feels good, huh?”
Liam whimpered through it, his throat vibrating around Noah’s cock as his own orgasm ripped through him. Jizzing all over the couch.
Finally. God. It felt so fucking good. What the fuck.
“Mmfh—uhhnn—NggGHHHHHHH—gghkk—”. Desperate little choked sounds, half-swallowed, half-sobs. His hand slowed, weak now, as the last spurts dripped between his fingers.
“Huumm… Feelin’ my cum pulsing into your stomach?” he growled, thrusting once, breathing slow, his own orgasm settling down. “Didn’t want it in your mouth, huh?”
A pause. Then slower, more deliberate: “Well, it wasn’t.”
And Liam stayed there.
Too long.
He let it wash over him, let himself ride the tremors, milking every last flicker of sensation like he was chasing something sacred.
Still. Stuffed.
His forehead was resting on Noah’s abs, lips slack, throat still fluttering faintly around the meat tube inside. Eyes glassy, lungs forgotten.
And then—
Panic.
He jolted, eyes flying wide as his body screamed for oxygen. He pulled back with a choked, several gasps, shoving himself off Noah’s lap so fast he stumbled sideways, hand bracing on the floor.
Noah’s cock slipped free with a slick, another wet obscene pop— wet, messy, like Liam had been glued to it.
“Hhh—gasp—hgghhhhh—f-fuck—gasp—fuuck”
Air slammed into his lungs in huge, ragged gulps. He coughed, lips bubbling up, messy on cum and thick spit, chest heaving like he’d been drowning.
Because he had been. On cock.
Noah blinked at him, still catching his own breath, then let out the softest, filthiest chuckle.
“You forgot to breathe?” he said, not even bothering to hide the smirk. “Liked my cock in you that much, little buddy?”
Liam didn’t answer—he literally couldn’t. He was too busy recovering, face flushed red, eyes blown with shame and leftover ecstasy. One hand went to his chest like he was trying to slow it all down, as if that would fix the absolute state he was in.
Noah leaned back, eyes dragging down Liam’s wrecked form, and added—calmly:
“You’re not just needy, man. You’re fucking retarded when you’re turned on.”
Liam slumped forward, forehead falling against Noah’s thigh, still panting. His body twitched a little with the aftershocks. He blinked, dazed. Warmth everywhere.
He didn’t know what he was anymore. Just that he existed, and that his balls felt empty.
Noah exhaled slowly above him. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured, hoarse, softening dick resting on his thigh, and barely there.
Liam was still trying to breathe. He had cummed. And his soul had ascended.
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