“Are you going to keep staring at my bulge or going to take my cock out, loser?”
Brett’s voice came low and rough, cutting through the muffled bass thumping up from the party downstairs. His bulge hovered merely inches away from my face. The dude from the rival team who beat us in baseball this afternoon. The same blond prick who deepthroated me in the stairwell this morning. And now here I was, on my knees in a frat bathroom, about to suck him off. Sort of like a post-game ritual. Like I owed him something because he took our win and my load in the same fucking day.
I swallowed hard. Throat still dry from the beer and the nerves. My cock throbbed in my jeans, pre-cum already making a wet spot I could feel against the denim. No point pretending anymore.
Brett chuckled, deep and smug. “There. I’ll make it easy for you.”
His fingers hooked the waistband of his jeans. He popped the button first, then dragged the zipper down slow. The denim parted just enough. His bulge strained harder against the thin fabric of his black boxer briefs, thick outline clearly visible now, the head pushing up toward the elastic band.
He hooked a thumb into the waistband of the underwear next. Tugged it down. Cock sprang free, thick and heavy, slapping up against his abs with a soft thud before settling straight out toward my face.
Eight inches. Veiny shaft curved slightly upward, skin flushed dark except for the light pink head that was already shiny with pre-cum. Blond pubes trimmed short framed the base, still carrying that faint post-game sweat musk mixed with his cologne. The whole thing throbbed once, twice, like it knew exactly how close my mouth was. A fat bead of pre-cum welled at the slit and started to drip slow.
“Dude,” I breathed, voice cracking a little. “What the fuck is this?”
Brett laughed again, short and filthy. “I know. I get that a lot. Don’t worry, bro. Since it’s your first dick, you don’t have to go all the way. Just the tip if you’re scared you’ll choke.”
I glared up at him. Cocky bastard. But my mouth was already watering. The smell hit me harder now. Clean sweat, a little salt, pure male. My own cock leaked harder, trapped and aching.
I leaned in. Hesitated one last second. Then my lips brushed the head. Hot and smooth. The light pink tip tasted sharp and salty. Pre-cum coated my tongue instantly. Thick. I flicked once, testing, then swirled slow around the ridge. Brett sucked in a breath above me.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Swirl your tongue, loser. Just like that.”
I opened wider. Took the head fully into my mouth. Lips stretched tight around it. Heavy on my tongue. I sucked soft at first, cheeks hollowing, tasting more of that salty leak. My hands stayed awkward on my thighs. Didn’t know where to put them yet.
Brett’s hand slid into my hair. Guiding a little. “Fuck yeah. Suck it slow. Get used to it.”
I bobbed once. Shallow. Head sliding over my tongue. Then again. Deeper this time. The shaft filled more of my mouth. Veins pulsed against my lips. I gagged a tiny bit when it hit the back of my throat. Pulled off quick, gasping.
“Too big, man,” I muttered, wiping my mouth.
Brett grinned down. “You’ll get used to it.”
He lifted his cock with one hand. Slapped the wet head against my cheek. Once. Twice. Hard enough to sting a little.
“That’s what you get for staring at me shirtless on the field today.”
Another slap. The shaft dragged across my lips, leaving a slick trail.
“And shooting your load down my throat.”
I glared up at him, face burning. “Fuck you.”
Then I dove back in. Took him deeper on purpose this time. Lips stretched wide. Tongue pressed flat under the shaft. I sucked harder. Moved faster. Gagging again when he nudged the back of my throat. Didn’t stop.
Brett groaned low. “Yeah, well… I’m the one fucking your face for now.”
His hips rocked forward. Slow shallow thrusts. Testing. I let him. Let him slide in and out. Wet sounds filled the bathroom. Slurps. My own heavy breaths through my nose. Drool started running down my chin. My cock throbbed so hard it was fucking ridiculous how turned on I was. Pre-cum soaked through my jeans. I was leaking like crazy and I hadn’t even touched myself.
Brett’s fingers tightened in my hair. “Feel that?” he growled. “That’s what losing tastes like.”
Another thrust. Deeper. Pre-cum dripped steady onto my tongue. I swallowed around him. Reflex. Throat working. He groaned louder.
“Fuck. Good boy. Keep swallowing.”
I did. Throat worked around him every time he pushed in. Pre-cum kept leaking, thick and steady, coating the back of my tongue. Salty and warm. I swallowed it down like I was thirsty for it. Brett’s grip in my hair turned harder.
His hips started moving with more purpose. Shallow at first, then deeper. Each thrust nudged the head against the back of my throat. I gagged again. Harder this time. Eyes watered. Drool ran in strings from the corners of my mouth down my chin. Wet. Messy. The floor under my knees felt colder now. My jeans were soaked at the front. My cock strained so bad I thought the zipper might give.
Brett groaned above me. Low. Rough. “Shit, bro… fuck, that feels good.”
He grabbed the sides of my face with both hands. Fingers dug into my jaw. Tilted my head just right. Then he really started fucking my mouth.
Slow at first. Letting me feel every inch sliding over my tongue. Then faster. Hips snapping. Balls slapped lightly against my chin with each thrust. Wet slurps bounced off the tile walls. Gagging sounds I couldn’t hold back. My nose mashed into his blond pubes every few strokes.
“Choke on it,” he growled. “Take every inch the winner’s giving you.”
His hips snapped forward harder. Deeper. The head punched the back of my throat again. I gagged loud this time. Throat spasmed around him. Eyes watered instant. Drool poured out the corners of my mouth, ran down my chin in thick strings. Wet slaps echoed off the tile every time his balls tapped my chin. My nose buried in his blond pubes.
I couldn’t breathe right. Chest heaved through my nose. But I didn’t pull back. I let him fuck my face. Let him use me. My own cock was screaming in my jeans. Untouched. Leaking so much the front felt heavy and sticky. I rocked my hips once. Twice. Grinding against air. Desperate for friction. So close. Balls tight. Edge right there.
Brett’s fingers dug into the sides of my jaw. Held me steady. Thrusts turned short. Brutal. Each one forcing the head past my gag reflex. Throat rippled around him. I swallowed reflexively. Couldn’t help it. Pre-cum kept dripping. Steady stream coating my tongue. Thick. Salty. I gulped it down. Throat working overtime.
“Fuck yeah,” he grunted. “Swallow that. That’s it. Milk me.”
His breathing turned ragged. Hips lost the rhythm. Erratic now. Cock swelled thicker in my mouth. Veins pulsed hard against my tongue. He was getting close. I could feel it. The way his thighs tensed under my hands. The low growl building in his chest.
“Gonna flood you, shortstop. Gonna paint your throat with my win.”
One more deep thrust. Held there. Cock lodged balls-deep. I choked. Hard. Throat convulsed. Eyes streaming. Drool and pre-cum mixed, dripping down my neck, soaking the collar of my hoodie.
Then the door swung open.
My teammate Connor stepped in. Casual. A little slurred from the drinks downstairs.
“Yo Marco, you in here…? Been looking for you—man”
He froze.
Eyes locked on the scene. Me on my knees. Mouth stuffed full. Brett buried deep. Mid-thrust. Drool and pre-cum shining on my chin. Brett’s cock glistening with my spit. Still throbbing. Still leaking.
Connor’s face went blank. Then confusion crashed in. Then something darker.
I jerked back fast. Brett’s cock slipped free with a wet pop. A thick string of spit and pre-cum stretched from my lower lip to the flushed head. Snapped. Landed on my chin.
I scrambled up. Legs shaky. Wiped my mouth frantically with the back of my hand. “Shit. Fuck…”
Brett didn’t cover up. Just stood there. Cock rock-hard. Still dripping my spit. He looked at Connor. Then back at me. Smirk slow.
Connor just stared at us. Heavy breathing. Bass thumping faint through the walls.
His voice came out low. Wrecked. “What the fuck, bro?”
He turned and walked out the door.
I stood frozen. Chest heaving. Mouth wrecked. Lips swollen. Chin shiny with spit and pre-cum. Tasting Brett everywhere.
Brett laughed once. Low. Casual. “Yo… fuck. You gonna finish me or what? I’m so fucking close.”
I spun on him. Voice hoarse. Cracked. “Dude. Fuck off. I need to stop him before he tells the team what he saw.”
Brett leaned back against the sink. Wrapped a hand around his shaft. Gave one slow stroke. Eyes locked on mine.
“Your loss again, shortstop. Go chase your big teammate. I’ll handle this myself.”
He stroked again. Slower. Deliberate.
“But when you’re done with this, hit me up. Round three’s waiting.”, he said tapping his big cock on the palm of his hand.
I didn’t answer. Just bolted out of the bathroom. Door banging behind me. Party noise crashed back in full. Bass. Laughter. Voices.
Connor was already disappearing down the hallway.
I chased after him anyway. Heart slamming. Mouth still full of Brett’s taste. Jeans sticky. Knowing this just cracked everything wide open.
And my cock was still hard as fuck.
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