I realized it was 1:17 a.m. when I caught myself scrolling through the same few apps for the fifth time. Instagram. Nothing new. Twitter. Still nothing. Just the same faces pretending not to be awake.
So, naturally, bored out of my mind, I opened Grindr.
The screen lit up my entire bedroom like a stage light. I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and let my thumb swipe through the usual collection of blank faces and torso shots, guys from campus pretending they were not from campus. A couple of them even favored me earlier in the week but never messaged. Same script every night.
Then a new chat popped up.
No greeting. No name.
Just a picture.
And fuck, it was a good one.
A hard dick, thick and leaking, the angle close enough that it felt like the guy had pressed his phone right up against it. The skin was golden and smooth, the lighting soft, the background out of focus. I could barely make out the suggestion of car seats and maybe the inside of a truck.
Another message appeared under it.
“This is what is up.” (Well, my profile name was “What’s up?”, so honestly, It was kinda hot for him to reply that)
I laughed out loud. Not even a hello. Just the dick and a line.
I sent a laughing emoji, mostly because that thing was impressive and also because I knew exactly the kind of guy who sent unsolicited pictures like that. Bored. Horny. Impatient. Very likely straight to the world and pretending it did not matter.
A new message came in immediately.
“Craving a blowjob so bad.”
“Been edging for an hour.”
“You down.”
Three separate messages. Zero punctuation and absolutely no shyness.
I stared at the screen. My body reacted faster than my brain did. Heat pooled low in my stomach.
I typed back.
“Sure. Where?.”
The response came instantly.
“Parking lot behind the gym. My truck.”
I smirked a little. The thrill hit me right in the chest. Anonymous trucks in dark campus lots were not exactly new to me.
Another message.
“You will know which one.”
Then, a final one.
“Backseat.”
The last message hung there like a dare.
I sat on the edge of my bed for a second, trying to pretend I was considering it. I was already getting hard. The quiet of my dorm room made the whole thing feel even filthier.
I typed only one word.
“Okay..Coming.”
I tossed my hoodie over my shoulders, slipped into sneakers without socks, and cracked my door open. My roommate was out cold, snoring into his pillow. I stepped out slowly, easing the door shut behind me like I was sneaking out of my parent’s house and not a college dorm.
The hallway smelled like stale popcorn and cheap laundry detergent. I kept my hood up and moved quickly toward the exit. The moment the cool night air hit my face, a shiver ran through me. Not from the cold. From the sheer wrongness and rightness of what I was doing.
Campus at night felt like a different world. The lamps buzzed. Everything looked washed out and empty. Only the gym building still glowed faintly in the distance with that sad twenty four hour lighting.
My phone buzzed again as I walked.
“Five minutes.”
I texted back.
“Close.”
My pulse kicked harder. Not just from the anticipation. Something about the truck in the background of that dick pic felt familiar. The seats. The color.
I tried not to think too hard about it.
I turned the corner and entered the parking lot. It was mostly empty except for a few cars belonging to the late night gym addicts. And then I saw it.
A silver Tacoma parked near the fence line. The windows completely fogged over.
I felt a full body jolt.
I stopped walking and stared. The Tacoma looked familiar. Actually, very familiar.
Fuck.
I pulled my phone out.
“Silver Tacoma?.”
A reply appeared almost instantly.
“Yeah.”
“Backseat.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I already knew who drove that truck. Every guy on campus knew. Every girl knew. Half the professors probably knew. I felt heat shoot through my body, but not the kind I expected. More like a rush of disbelief and desire tangled together.
I walked toward it before my brain could talk me out of it.
The door was cracked open, just enough that a sliver of darkness showed inside. The dome light was off. I could see only the faint outline of the seats and the windows reflecting the streetlights.
I gripped the handle, pulled gently, and slid inside.
It smelled like sweat and rubber and a hint of spearmint. The kind of scent you only got from someone who lived in the gym and kept gum in every pocket.
I slowly turned toward the man.
“Hey…”
My voice died instantly.
Because sitting beside me, leaning back, legs spread wide, hoodie pulled half over his face… was Heath Callahan.
Rugby captain.
Campus golden boy.
Six foot two and built like a god.
And very much not straight.
He was the guy people whispered about in locker rooms. The same guy who winked at girls in the dining hall. The same guy whose laugh carried across the quad. The same guy who once smirked at me when I spilled coffee all over my film notes and said, “Rough morning, Brian.”
Yeah. Him.
He stared at me like I was a ghost. His phone slipped out of his hands and fell onto his lap.
“Shit,” he breathed. “Brian?”
I blinked. My mouth opened. Closed. Then opened again.
“Yeah,” I said. “Surprise.”
Heath sat up so fast the truck shook. He reached for the keys on the seat beside him like he was about to peel out of the parking lot.
“I swear I was messing with you,” he blurted. “I sent the picture as a joke. I did not know it was you. I am not doing anything. I just. Fuck. I was joking.”
He fumbled the keys again.
I laughed. I could not help it. The situation was so ridiculous it was perfect.
“Relax, captain.”
Heath froze.
I leaned towards him..completely calm.
“You want the head or not?.”
He stared at me like the air had been knocked out of him.
I shrugged.
“I do not give a fuck who you are. Actually”...I let my eyes drag slowly down his body and back up..“I am glad it is you. You are fucking hot.”
His breath hitched. His face went bright red. His mouth opened with no sound coming out.
He looked away.
Then back at me.
Then away again.
Finally he whispered, voice rough and cracked,
“…Are you serious?”
I smirked.
“Spread your legs and find out.”
He did.
Slow. Hesitant. Thighs opening inch by inch.
A soft groan slipped out of him when he did it.
I smiled like I had won something...which to be fair, I did.
“Good boy.”
His eyes fluttered.
And I knew right then.
We were not stopping.
─────
The truck felt way too small once Heath actually opened his legs. The air between us turned heavy, thick with something neither of us wanted to name. Every window was fogged, every breath louder than it should have been.
He swallowed hard and leaned back a little, hoodie slipping down enough that I could see the tense line of his jaw.
“No one can know about this,” he said. His voice was low. Almost pleading.
I grinned. “You think I am running around campus telling people whose dick I sucked behind the gym.”
He stared at me for a long second. Eyes searching. Nervous in a way that did not fit his body at all.
“Still,” he whispered, “I need to hear you say it.”
I let my head tilt. Not mocking. Just honest.
“Relax. I am not telling a soul.”
He nodded, but not with relief. More like resignation. Like he had already crossed a line and now he was trapped on the other side of it.
His hand moved to his waistband.
“Fine,” he muttered.
Then he dragged his rugby shorts down.
My breath left me.
No underwear. None at all. Just a thick 8 inch cock heavy against his thigh, the head flushed a light shade of pink, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. The kind of cock that made guys suspiciously curious in locker rooms. The kind that would ruin someone if they were not ready.
I opened my mouth to say something but the sight of it killed every thought instantly.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
He tried to cover his nerves with a weak laugh. “Told you I was edging.”
I looked up at him. “Yeah. I can tell.”
I leaned in without asking, without waiting. His thighs were already open. He had already chosen this.
I bent down, my face close enough to feel the heat of him, the smell of sweat, gym musk, and something warm that hit straight between my legs. I stayed on the seat right beside him, just leaning over him, my mouth a breath away from the thick cock pulsing in front of me.
Heath sucked in a breath when I wrapped my fingers around his dick. He was hot and hard and dripping with precum enough that my hand slid easily from base to tip.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “You really know what you are doing.”
I looked up at him, lips parted. “You called me here. I assumed you wanted something good.”
He let out a short, shaky laugh.
“I do.”
I pressed my tongue to the underside of his cock, dragging it up from the base all the way to the swollen head. He hissed through his teeth, hand jumping to the back of my neck like he could not stop himself.
“Oh my god… Brian…”
I closed my mouth around the tip, slow and deliberate, letting the warmth pull a helpless groan from his chest.
He leaned his head back against the seat and spread his thighs wider, as if his body decided for him. Every inch of him was trembling just slightly.
I took more of him into my mouth, his cock sliding easily… feeling him pulse against my tongue. His hand tightened in my hair…Like he needed something to hold on to.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Ah.. I wanted this..”
I pulled back with a wet sound, letting cool air hit the wet head before licking it again, slow circles that made his thighs twitch.
“I told you,” I said against his skin. “I am glad it is you.”
He reached for my face with one shaky hand, thumb brushing my jaw like he was still trying to believe this was happening. Then he let his hand fall away again, too overwhelmed to keep up the pretense.
I took him back into my mouth and started working at a steady rhythm. My lips sealed around him, my tongue stroking the underside, my hand twisting at the base.
He groaned, deep and guttural, hips jerking up before he caught himself.
“Wait,” he gasped. “I do not want to hurt you.”
I smiled around his cock and lowered my head again, taking him completely until my nose hit his pubes. His breath ripped out of him in one sharp sound.
“Brian… holy shit…you fucking slut”
I bobbed my head, letting spit gather, letting the sound fill the truck along with his broken breaths. His thighs flexed under my arm, thick and strong and shaking. The truck rocked slightly with each movement.
He pressed his palm to the window beside him,.
“You are gonna make me cum” he said, voice barely there. “Your mouth feel so good… oh fuck bro…”
I pulled off again, stroking him slow, watching him fall apart.
He looked down at me, eyes wild, chest rising fast under his hoodie.
“You are good,” he whispered.
I leaned in and kissed the head, soft and teasing. “Good.”
His hand gripped my hair again. Stronger this time. Needier.
“Suck it, I am really close,” he breathed.
He pushed gently, guiding me down, his cock sliding deeper into my throat. instinct hit me but I steadied myself with a hand on his thigh.
He groaned. Loud and raw.
I pulled back just enough to breathe, spit trailing from my lips to the tip, then went down again, taking him deeper, my face pressed to his body, my mouth full of him.
His hips jerked up.
“Oh fuck. Sorry. Sorry I didnt mean to thrust like that.”
“Do it, Captain..,” I said, voice rough. “Fuck the shit out of my mouth.”
He made a sound that did not sound like anything I had ever heard from him. I did not know guys like him could sound like that.
He thrust again, shallow and desperate, like he was losing control inch by inch.
“Brian…..fuckk.. I am close…”
He choked on the words.
I sucked harder, stroking the base with my hand, tongue pressing under the head each time I rose.
He slapped his hand against the window again, breath shaking, thighs trembling, voice breaking apart.
“Fuckk… fuck.. I am gonna… I am gonna…”
I doubled down, taking him as deep as I could, mouth filled, breath warm against his skin.
He snapped.
His entire body jerked, a groan ripped out of him, deep and low and helpless.
He came in my mouth with pulse after pulse, thick and hot, filling me until I swallowed out of pure instinct.
He kept trembling long after it ended. One hand stayed in my hair. The other stayed pressed to the window.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Oh my god. Fuck.”
I pulled back slowly and wiped my mouth on my sleeve, breathing hard.
He stared at me like he had no idea what planet he was on.
I smirked.
“Well,” I said, “that was fun.”
He slumped against the seat, eyes still unfocused.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered. “Brian…”
I grabbed my hoodie zipper and stood up, opening the door.
The cold night air rushed in.
“Same time next week, captain?.”
He let out a breath that sounded like a laugh and a whimper mixed together.
“Fuck, yes please,” he said softly.
I stepped out of the truck, pulled my hood up, and walked back into the empty campus night.
His eyes followed me until the darkness swallowed me.
Just the way I wanted.
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