It was supposed to be just another hangout. Same place, same crew, and again, no girls. But when we sat down together, me, Jason, Ryan, and Ethan, you could feel something more right away. Something heavy in the air. A tension that no one named, but everyone remembered.
Jason sat down on the same couch where last time... well, you know. Ryan sat close, too close. Ethan started the playlist and threw a beer bottle my way.
“Okay, Matt,” Jason began with a smile that was no longer just a joke. “I wonder who you'll do something interesting to today.”
Laughter. Tense. Nervous. But there was no real resistance.
“I don't have any plans yet,” I replied calmly. “But everything is still ahead of us.”
Ryan snorted, but his gaze was no longer the same as it used to be. It was searching. Examining. Remembering how he felt when I knelt between his legs. And that he didn't sleep all night afterwards.
“You'll tease him again, and then you'll whine,” Ethan said, leaning comfortably against the armrest. “I'm just watching... and learning.”
“Well, tell us, master,” Jason said. “Do you know of any other things that are, as you put it, better than a girl in bed?”
“Do you know about rimming?” I asked, as calmly as if I were talking about a card game. They fell silent. Jason raised his eyebrows, Ryan fixed his gaze on my lips. Ethan just grunted, as if he had just received confirmation that such a thing existed.
“If not,” I added with a slight smile, “I can give you a demonstration.”
And then it got really quiet.
Jason snorted and stretched his arms as if to release the tension. “Dude, seriously? That's sick,” he said, but he wasn't looking me in the eye, his gaze was fixed somewhere on my lips, then moved lower. To my hands. To my chest.
Ryan took a sip of beer and swirled the bottle in his hand, pretending to be cool, which he wasn't. “And it can really be... pleasant?” he asked, his face a little too serious for a joke.
“Not pleasant,” I corrected him, running my finger along the rim of my bottle.
“It's like an addiction. Like someone touching you from the inside. Deeper than anyone ever could.”
Ethan shifted position, sitting more sideways. His hand landed on my thigh, a little too close to my crotch. He was smiling, but his eyes were no longer amused. He was watching intently. Hungrily.
Jason finally snorted and said, “Well, show us... But on whom?”
There was a moment of silence. The kind of silence that gets under your skin. Each of them looked at the other, as if searching for a victim. Or a hero.
And then Ryan glanced at Jason. He just shrugged, but his lips twitched slightly. As if he himself didn't believe he was about to say something.
“Not me,” Jason muttered... and after a moment added with a mischievous smile, “Unless you want to convince me it's not so stupid.”
He hesitated for only a second. Then he adjusted himself on the couch, stood up, took off his T-shirt, unbuttoned his pants, and unzipped them. Slowly. With a certain defiant ease, but there was something else in it, as if he wanted us all to see that it was no accident.
He looked at me. “Come on. Impress me.”
I didn't answer. I just walked towards him, slowly. With every step, I could see his chest rising faster and my gaze wandering somewhere around his mouth.
I knew then: he wasn't joking. And he wasn't the only one who was turned on by it.
Jason looked at me again, as if waiting for me to stop him. To say, “I was joking.” But I remained silent. I looked him straight in the eye. And that was enough.
He sighed, more to himself than to us, and moved over on the couch. He lay down on his stomach, his bent arms under his forehead. His pants slid down, revealing his firm buttocks, taut and pale in contrast to his tanned neck.
“Come on, champ,” he muttered, with forced confidence. But his voice was rough. It betrayed an excitement he could no longer control.
I knelt between his legs. The couch smelled of sweat, beer, and something else, a quiet excitement that had been in the air since the beginning of the evening.
I spread his buttocks. Slowly, precisely. I could see everything, his tension, his embarrassment, his readiness.
I leaned in. At first, I just blew hot air on his hole. Jason flinched. Gently. He tensed his buttocks.
“Relax,” I said quietly, more for him than for anyone else.
I touched him with my tongue. One light stroke, almost innocent. Jason gasped. And then he froze.
A second one. Longer. Moist, more confident. His body began to respond, he wasn't fighting, he wasn't tensing up so much anymore. He moaned. And then he sighed louder, as if he was letting his shame out.
“Oh fuck...” he muttered, pressing his face into the pillow.
I licked him slowly, thoroughly. I circled my tongue, teasing him, sometimes harder, sometimes barely touching him. Jason began to breathe in short, ragged gasps. His body softened under my tongue, his hips rippling slightly.
“See?” I said, without taking my mouth off his ass. “And this is just the beginning.”
No one laughed. No one made any comments. Ethan stared motionless. Ryan's eyes were wide open and his mouth half open, as if something had just broken inside him.
And Jason? He lay with his face pressed into the couch, moaning, relaxed, completely surrendered to what he was feeling.
And I knew that none of them would ever forget this sight.
Jason was still lying stretched out on the couch, his breathing slowly calming down. The sweat on his back glistened in the light of the lamp, and his body looked like it had experienced more than just pleasure, like it had made a discovery that could not be undone. The room was silent, interrupted only by his heavy breathing.
I raised my head. Ethan sat motionless, his hand still resting between his thighs. He was no longer trying to pretend he wasn't aroused. His gaze was fiery, insistent.
Ryan, on the other hand... Ryan couldn't sit still. He got up, took a few steps, pretending to stretch, but you could see the tension in his body. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, on what I was doing. When Jason sighed softly, Ryan instinctively swallowed.
“I don't believe it...” he whispered. “He really...?”
“Mhm,” Ethan replied, his voice low, still staring at Jason.
Ryan took a step closer. Then another. And then he stood right behind the couch, looking down. “I want... to see better.”
I smiled slightly. “Don't be shy.”
He paused, his hand on the back of his neck, as if struggling with himself. Then he exhaled and said quietly, “I want to too... just once. To see.”
I knew it wasn't curiosity. There was something more raw in his voice. A need.
I walked toward him slowly until our bodies were almost touching. “Turn around and take off your pants and boxers,” I said calmly.
Ryan hesitated, but he did it. He rested his hands on the table. His muscles tensed, his back arched, his buttocks slightly apart. He was tense, but he didn't pull away when I leaned in and spread them wider.
I touched him with my tongue. Gently at first, barely grazing him. His body immediately tensed.
“Matt...” he moaned, almost silently.
I dove deeper, feeling his breathing quicken. My tongue moved rhythmically, precisely, and after a moment, Ryan stopped pretending to be in control. His hips moved unconsciously, his breathing became ragged, his hands clenched the edge of the table.
Behind us, silence. Ethan watched with his mouth open, and Jason, half-lying down, whispered something under his breath.
Finally, Ryan moaned louder, trembling all over. He turned his head, his eyes half-closed, his cheeks flushed.
And then I knew: none of us were “just curious” anymore.
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