Recap: Ethan found Leo again a week later, this time in the gym showers. Said the blowjob helped him last longer with his date and wanted another round. Leo hesitated, but Ethan knew exactly how to push. What started as a “bro favor” turned into something rougher, deeper, filthier. Ethan face-fucking Leo under the water, leaving him soaked and dripping. Before leaving, he smirked and said, "Might need to call you over if the date doesn’t go well."
It was a little past 11 when I got a text on my phone. It must have been Ethan.
I quickly checked.
Ethan:
my man
wanna hang out?
emily fucking cancelled. bitch
There was a pinned location along with the texts. No explanation. He just assumed I’d come. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, heart already picking up. Well, he was right. What he didn’t know or maybe he did was that I would’ve shown up no matter the time, no matter the reason. If it meant tasting his cock again, I’d be there. He didn’t have to explain. Didn’t even have to ask. Just drop a pin and wait.
I got up without thinking, grabbed my keys, and was in the car within minutes.
His apartment was exactly how I expected. Dim, lazy, half-clean. TV glowing across the living room, low porn sounds playing over shitty speakers. He didn’t get up when I knocked. Just shouted, “Yo...It’s open.”
He was on the couch. Gym shorts. Nothing else. Legs spread. One hand on his thigh, the other holding a beer. Porn full-screen on the TV. Loud. Messy. Some guy railing a girl from behind. He looked over his shoulder. “Bro, I hope it’s not too late. I texted her right after I left the gym...was fucking horny. But bitch cancelled.” He turned back to the screen, still scrolling. “Now I’m just sitting here, trying to get a nut in, and I thought... might as well text you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re already hard? I just sucked you off like an hour ago” I glanced down at his shorts.
He laughed, looked down at himself, and rubbed the bulge lazily. “Fuck yeah. Been thinking about fucking a tight pussy all night.” He nodded at the TV. “Damn, look at her ass. So fucking huge.”
His hand was already working his crotch, slow and casual.
I smirked. “Fuck it. Pass me a cushion for my knees?”
He grabbed a cushion from the couch, tossed it down between his legs like it was nothing. I knelt on it as he leaned back, tugged his shorts down to mid-thigh, and spread his legs wide.
His cock flopped out, already thick and dripping.
“Anyways,” he muttered, eyes on the screen, “your throat does a better job than any chick’s.”
I didn’t say anything. Just leaned in and licked a slow stripe up the underside of his shaft, tasting pre-cum and sweat. He groaned low, hand resting on my head like it belonged there.
The porn moaned on behind me. Wet, sloppy sounds from the screen blending with mine. I took him deeper, letting spit spill out of my mouth as I sucked, tongue circling the head, then flattening beneath the shaft.
He shifted his hips slightly, easing in deeper. I gagged once, then relaxed my throat and let him slide in all the way.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “Gag on that shit, bro.”
His eyes stayed on the screen, watching some guy rail a girl from behind while he fucked my mouth with slow, lazy thrusts like it was just part of the background noise. His hand tightened in my hair, the other stroking his thigh. My jaw ached. My throat burned. My own cock throbbed untouched.
“Damn,” he muttered, voice thick, “the video makes it easy to forget you’re a dude.”
Then he stood up. His shorts dropped to his ankles with a quiet thud. I shifted on the cushion, tilting my head up to meet him. His cock stood fully hard now; thick, flushed dark, veins bulging along the shaft. A string of pre-cum clung to the tip, stretching, then dropping to my lip as I stared.
He gripped my head with both hands, fingers threading tight into my hair. His abs tensed above me, muscles flexing as he angled his hips forward.
“Go deeper, bro,” he growled. “Fuck... I want you to drool the fuck on this cock.”
Then he pulled my face onto him with a jerk. His cock slammed past my tongue, hit the back of my throat in one wet, brutal shove. I gagged, blinked up at him, and he didn’t flinch. Just stared at the porn playing on the screen, both hands locked on my head, holding me there like I was just another prop in his jerkoff routine.
“Yeah… just like that,” he breathed. “Fuckin’ perfect.”
Spit poured from my mouth. I couldn’t swallow fast enough. It ran down my chin, slicked my neck, pooled at the base of his cock. He liked it. I could tell. He started thrusting, small tight pumps that made my nose slap against his abs.
“You’re fucking dripping,” he laughed. “Good boy.”
My throat ached. My knees burned. But I stayed there, breathing through my nose, letting him use my mouth like it was a fleshlight. The slaps of his hips got louder. His moans, deeper. “Open wider, buddy,” he muttered. “Don’t fight it. C’mon. open up that throat.”
I tried to respond but my mouth was full of his cock. Just drooled harder, tongue pressed flat under his cock as he fucked in deep, heavy, harder each time.
The porn kept playing...wet sounds, fake moans, a girl choking on camera while I gagged in real life. He laughed at one point. “Damn, you might suck harder than her.”
He pulled out once. Slapped the tip against my cheek. A line of spit snapped from my lip to his cock. He smeared the head across my mouth. “Open.”
I opened. He shoved it back in. This time he didn’t stop. He started thrusting faster, rougher and more controlled. Full-on face-fucking me like it was a pussy he wanted to fuck. His hands gripped tighter, his breathing turned ragged, and even as my throat burned, I let it...welcomed every inch of it.
I felt him move closer to my face, grinding forward like he was trying to close the last inch of space between his cock and my throat. My face was buried in his crotch, nose pressed to his skin, barely any distance left between us.
“Fuck… deeper… deeper, man.”
I grabbed onto his waist for support, fingers digging into his sides. He took that as a green light and started thrusting harder. The slap of his hips against my face got louder, wetter.
“Ah-ah-fuck-ah,” he moaned, every sound more raw than the last.
Spit was pouring down my face, thick and stringy, soaking my chin, neck, chest. I was a mess. His cock kept hitting the back of my throat like it belonged there.
He glanced at the TV, still playing loud in the background. The girl onscreen was bent over, taking it rough. “Bro,” he said, voice low and breathless, “you think you could take it in the ass like she’s doing?”
My mouth was still full of his cock. I couldn’t answer. But something shifted in the air between us the second he asked. He pulled out...slow, wet and I gasped quietly, spit stringing from my lip to his cock.
I sat back on my heels. Looked up at him. Swallowed hard. “Dude… I’ve never been fucked before.”
Ethan was breathing heavy, sweat shining along his chest. He stared down at me like he was deciding something. “C’mon man,” he said, voice low. “Don’t you like my cock?”
I looked up at him, lips still slick, throat raw. “Yeah… I do. A lot.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Then what’s the problem bro?”
I hesitated. “I mean… what happened? Does my mouth not feel as good anymore?”
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head like I was insane. “Bro. Your mouth’s insane. Better than anyone I’ve ever been with. No question.” He stepped closer, still holding the lube. “But my cock wanted to fuck tonight. Like, it was fully ready for pussy. And then this chick cancelled. So now it’s just…” He looked down at it...thick, veiny, dripping pre-cum. “Frustrated.”
He met my eyes again. “I’m not gonna fuck you, alright? Not unless you want it. I’ll just slide it between your cheeks. Maybe rub the head there. I just need to feel something warm.”
I stood up slowly, heart pounding harder than it had any time during the gym set earlier. My voice came out quiet, almost like I was trying to convince myself more than him. “Uhm… okay. I’ve been thinking about how it would feel.”
He grinned; big, filthy, proud. “That’s my fucking man.” He slapped his thigh, then pointed to the couch. “C’mon. Get those pants off and get on the couch. Face down, ass up."
My fingers moved before I could think. I undid the drawstring, pushed my sweats down to my ankles, and stepped out. My legs felt shaky. My dick was hard. I didn’t try to hide it.
I climbed onto the couch; knees digging into the cushions, arms folded under me. I lowered my chest, left my ass arched in the air, completely exposed. The room was warm, but my skin buzzed with nerves. With need.
Ethan walked up behind me. I felt the heat of his body even before he touched me. He reached out, palmed one cheek, gave it a slow squeeze. “Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t know you had an ass like this. No wonder you suck cock like you’ve got something to prove.”
He grabbed my ass with both hands now and squeezed, hard. “Fuuuck, man... this bunda.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed, cheek pressed to the cushion. “Yeah, I do Bulgarian split squats a lot.”
“Shit shows,” he muttered, low and hungry.
I felt the couch shift behind me as he climbed up. His legs slid on either side of mine, thighs pressing into mine, spreading me wider. His chest hovered just above my back. I could feel his heat, his breath. His weight not all the way down, but close. Trapping me there.
Then he reached forward, palms flat against the couch by my shoulders, caging me in.
And that’s when he started slapping his cock against my ass. Wet, heavy smacks. One. Two. Three.
“Fuck,” he growled. “You hear that?”
I nodded, cheek still down. “Loud and clear.”
He laughed. “Your ass is fucking majestic, bro.”
His cock dragged slow between my cheeks now, wet with precum. I felt it twitch, thick and throbbing. The head bumped my hole. Just a tease. Just enough to make my hips jerk.
“Easy,” he whispered, grinding the shaft between my cheeks again. “I said no fucking unless you ask.”
But every slap. Every press. Every slow drag of his cock was making my hole twitch more and more. My cock was pressed hard against the couch now, leaking little drops onto the fabric with every breath.
Then he paused.
Stood up without a word.
I looked back, confused. He disappeared down the hallway. I thought maybe he was done; that maybe he’d freaked out. But a second later, he came back.
With a bottle of lube in his hand.
“Dude,” he grinned, twisting the cap open. “Let’s make this ass wet.”
He climbed back onto the couch behind me, straddling me again like before. I heard the squirt. Then a fat, wet splash as he poured a load of it over his cock. Then he took more in his hand, dragged it down between my cheeks, and with two fingers, started coating the inside of my hairy ass with it; messy, casual, like he’d done it a hundred times before.
I flinched.
“Ah—fuck, that’s cold,” I gasped, hips jolting forward a little.
He laughed under his breath, fingers still working me open. “Chill, man. I'll warm it up with my cock.”
His fingers slid slick around my hole, spreading me. He wasn’t pushing in. Not yet. Just rubbing in circles, coating the rim, dragging that lube deep between my cheeks until everything felt slippery and loose. “Damn,” he muttered, leaning in, his breath on my neck. “You weren’t kidding. You been doing Bulgarian splits or growing this ass for me?”
I huffed out a shaky laugh, barely able to reply. My cock was grinding into the couch at this point, throbbing, dripping. Every slow swirl of his fingers made me twitch harder.
“You good?” he asked, still rubbing lube over me, lower now, like he was about to line up.
I swallowed. “Y-Yeah. Just… feels fucking insane.”
“Good,” he said, cocky as hell. “Let’s keep it at insane.”
His cock pressed down between my cheeks, thick and hot and wet now. He didn’t push in..just started grinding. Long, slow drags between my ass, letting the lube spread, the head sliding over my hole again and again.
“Fffuck,” he groaned. “This is what my cock needed.”
He adjusted behind me, legs pressed against mine on the couch, chest grazing my back. One hand held my waist, the other palming my ass, guiding every grind. His cock moved wet between my cheeks, dragging heavy and lazy, slapping sometimes, grinding other times.
“Shit, man,” he muttered, voice breathless. “Your ass is eating this shit up. Cold as fuck. My cock is loving it.”
I could feel it. My hole twitching under every pass. His cock head catching on it again and again, rubbing, teasing, not quite going in but so fucking close. I gasped, grinding back just a little.
“You good?” he asked again, softer now, the rhythm slowing as he paused at my hole.
I nodded, breath shaky. “Yeah…”
A beat passed.
Then I heard myself say it; quiet, but clear.
“…Maybe just the tip?”
He froze for half a second like he hadn’t expected me to actually say it. Then his grip tightened on my waist, and I felt his cock throb right against my hole.
“Fuckin’ finally,” he breathed, grinning into my shoulder.
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