We had known each other since our first year of college. They had always been my crew, training sessions, house parties, trips to the lake. We were connected by the usual things: laughter, silliness, a little rivalry, and lots of shared moments. But beneath the surface, there was something more. Maybe it was how Max would grab me by the neck when he lost a bet. Maybe it was how Liam would whisper silly things in my ear when I drank too fast.
Or maybe it was the fact that ever since I told them I was gay, everything seemed the same… but not really.
Suddenly, the jokes became more ambiguous. The touch lasted a second too long. Liam looked into my eyes too calmly, too accurately. And Max? He started playing his game, sometimes saying something “as a joke,” sometimes nudging me with his hip, sometimes mentioning that “if he were gay, I would be his type.”
I knew they both felt something. Maybe they couldn't name it, maybe they didn't want to. But I... I felt them. Physically. As if I had them on the tip of my tongue.
That evening was normal. Chips, a game, typical small talk. But underneath, there was a buzz of unspoken words. They sat close. Liam had his arm around my back, Max rested his knees on my thigh, as if by accident.
I sat between them. And I felt it. Every millimeter. Every movement that could have not happened... but did.
The evening was still young. But the tension was old. Hidden. Maturing. And ready to finally stop pretending.
Max, as always, couldn't sit still for too long.
“Hey, Liam,” he said, “how much can you bench press now? You said last time you beat my one-oh-five, right?”
Liam just raised his eyebrows with his calm half-smile.
“One hundred and ten. But if you want, I can prove it to you again.”
“Yeah?” Max snorted. “Just don’t cry when I show you the difference between muscle and pretending again.”
It started with the usual trash talk, their favorite game: who's better, who's stronger, who can do more. I wanted to throw in a joke, but before I could open my mouth, Max was already looking at me. That look of his... it was different.
“Okay.” He smiled crookedly. “What about you, Matt? If you had to choose one of us... which one would you bang?”
The air stopped moving.
Liam fixed his gaze on me, didn't snort, didn't roll his eyes. He just said quietly,
“Good question.”
They knew what they were doing. I could see it in their eyes, there was no shame or laughter in them. There was something deliberate about it. As if they were testing the waters.
My heart beat faster. I felt that pressure in my throat, like when the tension becomes too thick and you pretend it's just a game.
I leaned back on the couch and looked at them slowly. First at Max, then at Liam.
“It depends,” I said calmly. “I'd have to check carefully... from every angle.”
Max raised an eyebrow. Liam swallowed, as if something in my words had really moved him.
And I... felt completely present for the first time in a long time. As if someone had opened the door to the room where I hid my fantasies.
And they were standing on the threshold. Ready to enter.
Liam was the first to move, standing up.
Without a word, he reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion. His body stretched out as if in slow motion, his ribs, abdominal muscles, slightly defined six-pack. He threw the T-shirt over the back of the chair and flexed his arms theatrically.
“Okay, Matt. Tell me what you think,” he said with a smile that was too calm to be a joke.
Max laughed.
“Seriously? Without a warm-up? Okay, if we're starting the show...” And he also began to undress, but more slowly. As if he knew I was watching.
His chest was more massive, more developed. Smooth, taut, with a slight sheen from the heat. His nipples protruded slightly, hard as if reacting to my gaze. He flexed his muscles as if joking, but his gaze was serious.
They were both standing in front of me now, one on the left, the other on the right, as if it were a stage and I were there to judge their performance.
And I think that's how they saw it.
I tried to say something, but my mouth was dry. I looked down at their torsos, their chests, the lines of their stomachs leading down.
My head was buzzing. I felt a hardening in my pants, but I didn't move. I didn't want to miss a second.
“What, Matt?” Max asked with that predatory gleam in his eyes. “Do you already know which one you like more?”
“Not yet,” I replied calmly, but my voice trembled slightly.
“But it's getting interesting.”
Silence hung between us. Not an awkward silence. The kind where every breath meant something. The kind that smelled of sweat, tension, and testosterone.
And only one thing was certain: this was no longer a joke.
“Now watch,” they said simultaneously.
Max grabbed the waistband of his pants and in one motion slid them down along with his boxers. Liam did the same. There was no hesitation, no shame. They stood sideways to me, then turned around, naked, confident.
“Look at that ass,” Max said with a smile. “Not bad, huh?”
“What do you think of this one?” Liam added.
Max slapped him. Loud, quick, a bit too hard for a joke. Liam laughed but looked over his shoulder, first at me. There was something more than provocation in his eyes.
Their bodies were tense, exposed. Sculpted by years of gym work, but now presented to me as if it were a show, as if they wanted me to compare every detail.
I felt myself getting hard. My pants started to feel tight. Still, I didn't move an inch. I watched.
Liam's ass was more compact, clearly rounded, slightly tanned. Max had more massive, stronger buttocks, with visible muscle tension.
It wasn't just laughter anymore. Not in their voices, not in their movements. It was a kind of offer. A game where the cards were already on the table.
“Well, Matt?” Max asked without turning around. “Have you chosen yet? Or do you want to compare them up close?”
Liam laughed quietly, but his neck was red. Excited.
I drew air in through my nose. Slowly. Moving my gaze from their necks down, across their backs, to their taut buttocks.
“You have an interesting presentation,” I said quietly. “But that's not all that interests me.”
Their shoulders twitched. They turned slowly. To face me.
Still naked.
And no longer laughing.
Max was the first to move. He reached out and unceremoniously ran his fingers over Liam's cock. As if he wanted to assess its length. As if he wanted to provoke me.
“Hey,” he muttered, “it's not bad.”
Liam flinched, but didn't pull away. He just looked at me, quietly, calmly.
“Relax,” he said. “Touch it. You have to check it out properly.”
My throat tightened. I knew it wasn't a test anymore. It was consent.
I got up slowly. Their bodies were close. I could feel the warmth of their skin, the moist smell of male bodies, sweat, beer, adrenaline.
I reached out and touched Liam.
His cock was heavy and hot. Thick at the base, soft on the vein running down the side. It pulsed. I ran my hand slowly over it, from the base to the tip, where the skin was tight and shiny. A light precum had gathered at the end. I touched it with my thumb. Sticky, thick.
Liam shuddered. His eyes were closed. He was breathing in through his nose, as if fighting not to moan.
Then I moved my hand to Max.
His cock was harder, slightly longer, more vertical. Smooth skin stretched over a throbbing shaft. It was heavier, as if demanding more than just touch. When I ran my hand over the tip, Max hissed softly.
They both stood still, but their bodies said it all.
Liam's cock trembled in my hand. Max leaned slightly toward me, as if he couldn't help himself.
I looked at them. Slowly.
There was no more playfulness in their eyes. Only anticipation.
“How do you like them?” Max asked, his voice lower than usual.
I smiled.
“You know what...” I lowered my voice. “Now I have to try those cocks.”
Max smirked. “Sure. Go ahead. See which one tastes better to you.”
Liam didn't answer right away. He just nodded slowly, looking down. But his cock twitched slightly, as if it had answered for him.
I knelt slowly between them. I could feel their thighs on either side of my face, hot and tense. Their bodies smelled of sweat and anticipation. When I looked up, Max was already watching me with that teasing half-smile of his, while Liam kept his gaze down, but his cock trembled slightly, as if it already knew the ending his face hadn’t accepted yet.
I reached out my hand to Max. His cock was harder than before. Heavier. The skin taut. I wrapped my whole hand around it and felt the veins, the warmth, the thickness under my fingers. I slid my thumb under the head, where the skin was already moist. Max hissed through his teeth, tensed his stomach, every muscle ready, aware of my touch.
“Sensitive but confident,” I muttered under my breath, not taking my eyes off his face.
Then I reached for Liam. His was different. Thinner but longer. The skin was more elastic, soft in a way that was damn susceptible to touch. I moved my fingers from the base to the very tip, quietly, slowly, fully aware that every inch counts more when you touch not only the body, but someone who pretends not to feel anything.
Liam squeezed his eyelids shut and swallowed. His breathing changed rhythm, shorter inhales, longer exhales. He didn't have to say a word. I could feel everything he wanted to say.
I looked back at their cocks. Both erect, wet at the tips. Both intriguing in completely different ways.
I moved closer and ran my tongue over Max's skin, starting at the base. I tasted salt, warmth, tension. I paused for a moment at his thigh, leaving a trail of moisture before moving higher, exploring, testing his reaction, measuring how fast he trembled, how loudly he breathed, how his abdominal muscles tensed under control.
Then Liam. His taste was different. Less sharp, more delicate. His skin was more absorbent, as if his body absorbed my tongue as much as I absorbed his reactions. I moved my tongue slowly, leaving a trail of saliva. His hips twitched, but he didn't pull away. He didn't want to.
Max shivered. Liam breathed deeper. My hands were already wet. Their cocks stood full, shiny, as if they belonged to the same game, but had completely different rules.
And me?
I was between them.
And I was the one calling the shots.
Everything was different between them. It was as if time had slowed down, as if my every move triggered something, shifted something, drew them deeper into a game where no one was pretending anymore.
I grabbed Max harder, wrapped my lips around him, slowly, deliberately. I felt his cock pulsing on my tongue, his thighs tensing in response. He let out a low, throaty, raw growl, and for a moment I felt that he himself was barely controlling his tension. I sucked him harder, then slower, testing his reaction.
I pulled away.
I glanced up.
His gaze was heavy, dark, as if he were asking why I had stopped.
I didn't answer.
I turned to Liam. I took him in my hand and immersed myself in his taste, thinner but more sensitive, every movement of my mouth causing his hips to tremble. I could feel it with my whole being: he was quieter but more intense. He was breathing deeper. The skin on his stomach rippled with his irregular breaths.
I leaned back slightly, smiling to myself.
“This one's harder,” I muttered, pointing at Max. “But this one's throbbing faster.”
Liam opened his eyes and smiled half-heartedly, as if proud of this advantage. Max snorted, but there was more than amusement in it, his cock twitching slightly, as if ready to demand more right away.
I started jumping from one to the other.
My mouth on one. My hand on the other.
Then a change, tongue, fingers, breath.
Max was more resistant, but when he lost control, he got louder. His hips began to cooperate with my movements, as if he wanted to take over the rhythm. Liam was breathing through clenched teeth, his eyes closed, but his body was completely focused on me.
That was all there was in the room now:
saliva, moans, and breaths.
Two bodies standing in tension.
And me, between them, playing their cocks like an instrument, choosing the tempo, the depth, the reaction.
And they let me.
Completely.
My lips were already wet, hot, tired, but I didn't want to stop. I wanted to feel them both to the end. Their tension. Their strength. Their rivalry.
I slid Max deeper until I felt his buttocks tense, his stomach harden with the impulse. He sighed loudly, too loudly.
“Look how he's drooling over mine,” he said through clenched teeth, turning his head to Liam.
Without stopping, I looked to the side.
Liam was silent, but he raised an eyebrow. When I released Max from my mouth and moved to him, Liam grabbed my head, gently but firmly, and pushed me toward himself.
“He sucked mine deep,” he said quietly. “And he had no problem with it.”
I felt his cock twitch as I slid it between my lips. His hips moved slowly but with control. As if he wanted to show me something.
Max snorted.
“It doesn't matter who was first. What matters is who will be remembered.”
I squeezed my eyelids shut.
What was happening was bigger than any game. I could feel their bodies, their egos, their tension. They wanted to be better, not for themselves. For me.
Every movement of my mouth fueled their rivalry. Every moan from one provoked the other.
I had them both at my fingertips. Their bodies were hard, full, glistening with saliva. Their breath mingled in the air.
And me?
I was the epicenter.
My tongue and lips led them where they wanted to go, but they couldn't get there without a guide.
I could feel it.
They needed me.
And they already knew it.
Their cocks glistened in the dim light, wet, taut, trembling from the warmth of my mouth. They breathed heavily, as if they didn't know whether relief or torture was coming. And I knew one thing: right now, I had them.
I stopped.
I stuck out my tongue one last time, running it over Max's shaft. He groaned softly. If I hadn't pulled away at that second, his hips would have moved on their own.
I lifted my head. My lips were wet. I reached out and slowly wiped them, unhurriedly, as if it were a ritual.
Liam looked at me with his mouth open, Max with a furrowed brow, ready for more.
“Don't argue,” I said quietly, my voice lower, smoother. “This is just the beginning.”
Their bodies trembled. Their cocks stood rock hard. Thick, full, even more swollen from restraint.
They were hard like before a fight. And ready for every word I was about to say.
Max looked at Liam.
Liam didn't look away.
There was something new between them, a tension that words could no longer cover up. They were heated. Their bodies spoke louder than all their comments so far.
I stood up and sat on the couch in front of them and smiled slightly, with superiority.
I knew what I had to say.
“And now...” I paused, waiting for their eyes to focus on me again, “...I have to see if you can suck well.”
Silence.
Heavy, clinging to the skin.
Their breathing stopped. But their cocks didn't go down for a moment.
They understood.
Now it was their turn.
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