The Ambush
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
Randy wasn’t one to linger in lecture halls. Most days, he slipped in late, sat at the back, and vanished before the crowd even finished shuffling toward the exits.
But today, he took a seat in the middle.
He didn’t need to glance far to find Liam. Two rows ahead, slightly right of center, head bent over his tablet, pen tapping idly as the professor pulled up slides. Same posture as the last time Randy had seen him. Relaxed, confident, unaware of how easy his body was to watch.
Randy let himself smirk, just slightly.
He waited.
When Liam finally glanced back—probably sensing someone staring—Randy didn’t look away. He held his gaze, sharp blue eyes steady, mouth tilted just enough to suggest interest.
Liam blinked, caught off guard.
Perfect.
The lecture dragged. Heart murmurs, diagnostic pathways, risk scores. Randy let it wash over him. His attention stayed fixed on the boy in front of him, the occasional flick of Liam’s head as he looked back, always a little too quickly, always pulling away just a bit too soon.
When class ended, Randy stood with deliberate slowness. No rush.
He stepped up behind Liam as the boy gathered his things.
“Hey.”
Liam turned, eyes wide for a second. Then a grin. “Oh. Hey. Didn’t expect it to be you.”
“You seemed so eager the other night; I thought I’d surprise you.” Randy kept his voice low, calm. “You busy tonight?”
Liam’s mouth parted slightly. “Uh—no, not really.”
“Good.” Randy let the pause sit. “Come by my place. We can study. Work on cardio stuff.”
Liam’s grin sharpened, eyes flicking down and back up. “Yeah… sure, sounds good.” He said, sounding pensive, almost stunned.
“Great.” Randy smiled. “See you tonight.”
He didn’t wait for a full answer. Just tapped Liam’s shoulder once, light, a little possessive, and walked away, leaving Liam standing there in the aisle, a little breathless.
Randy spent the afternoon attempting to focus, knowing he had important things to do.
He clicked through lecture slides, jotted down a few lazy notes, skimmed a handful of journal articles—none of it stuck. His mind kept slipping back to Liam.
To the way the boy had looked when Randy approached. That quick flicker of surprise, the way his mouth had gone slightly slack before he smiled. He hadn’t known how to react. Hadn’t masked it fast enough.
Randy liked that.
He stretched out on the couch, laptop propped on his thighs, half-listening to the noise of the street below. Cars sliding by. A dog barking somewhere. Someone arguing faintly on the sidewalk.
His thoughts drifted again.
He imagined Liam kneeling, bare knees on the hardwood. Obedient, pliant, still just a little tense at first. He imagined the boy’s mouth, soft, willing, maybe a little too eager at the start. Randy knew how to fix that.
His hand slid absently across his stomach, fingers splaying wide as he pictured Liam’s body under his. How far he could bend. How hard he could take it. How quickly Randy could push him to the point where he would know if Liam was truly willing to submit, or if he was just another boy in a long list of boys...
It didn’t take very long with most boys.
Still, Randy’s cock stirred faintly at the thought. He shifted, eyes closing briefly, letting the afternoon quiet wrap around him.
He wouldn’t go easy on Liam. He had a feeling about this one.
He wanted to see how much the boy could take on the first pass, how far he could be stretched, what his mouth could manage, whether his body really wanted what his messages had promised.
Randy’s lips curved faintly.
Something inside him was hungry.
Randy stood at the foot of his bed, looking over the room.
It wasn’t much. Clean, spare, a little cold maybe, but tidy. He preferred it that way — nothing to distract, nothing to soften the edge. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned to the small chest near the closet.
Inside, a careful selection.
He didn’t need much tonight. Nothing elaborate. This wasn’t about the show.
He pulled out a short length of rope, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. Set it on the nightstand. A paddle, light but solid, the kind that could leave a sharp reminder without doing any real damage. A bottle of lube. A couple of lengths of rope.
That was enough.
He arranged everything with a quiet precision, not fussing but making sure it was all within reach.
When he was done, he sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting loosely on his thighs. The apartment was still, the soft hum of the fridge in the background.
He glanced at the clock.
Almost time.
His cock twitched faintly at the thought. Not fully hard yet — not until he had the boy in front of him — but the low pulse of anticipation was already there.
Randy pushed up, crossed the room, and checked his reflection briefly in the hall mirror. Black t-shirt, fitted jeans, barefoot. Nothing to overplay it. Nothing theatrical. Just enough to look good, to stay sharp, to remind Liam exactly who was leading tonight.
There was a knock at the door.
Randy smiled faintly.
He crossed the room, slow, deliberate, and opened it.
Liam stood there, a little breathless, eyes wide, lips parted as if about to say something.
Randy didn’t give him the chance.
“Come in.”
Liam stepped inside, glancing around, shoulders tightening just slightly as he took in the space. Randy let the silence stretch, watching the boy shift his weight from foot to foot.
“You’re on time,” Randy said, closing the door behind him. “Good start.”
Liam laughed softly, a nervous edge under it. “Yeah, well. Didn’t want to make a bad first impression.”
Randy’s eyes moved over him slowly, deliberately.
“Let’s see how long you can keep it up.”
Randy leaned back slightly, arms folding across his chest, taking his time.
Finally, a proper look.
Liam stood a few steps into the apartment, shifting his weight faintly under Randy’s gaze. Blond hair, a touch tousled, like he’d run his hands through it nervously before arriving. Bright green eyes that didn’t quite know where to settle. Tall, but not as tall as Randy, maybe six feet even. Lean frame, lightly muscled — the kind of body shaped by a mix of running, maybe swimming, not weightlifting.
And handsome.
Not just cute or hot, but attractive in a sharper, classical way. Clean jawline, high cheekbones, a symmetry that spoke of good genes and old money. Liam looked like he could’ve stepped out of some prep-school catalogue or a vintage sailing photo, all easy-bred elegance and golden-blooded charm.
Randy let his eyes drag down slowly, watching Liam fidget under the scrutiny.
“Want a drink?” Randy asked finally.
Liam’s head snapped up a little. “Uh — sure.”
“Beer okay?”
There was the faintest flicker of hesitation. Liam smiled. “I usually drink wine, but… yeah, beer’s fine.”
Randy noted that.
Of course. The type. Polished, preppy, probably raised on family vacations to ski chalets and summers at the cottage. But here he was, saying yes to a beer he didn’t want, eager to please, eager to smooth the edges, eager to settle his nerves.
Randy smirked faintly, turned to the fridge, and pulled out two bottles.
He popped them both open, handed one over, and watched as Liam took it, fingers curling just a little too tightly around the glass.
“Nervous?” Randy asked, his voice calm, low.
Liam gave a quick little laugh, cheeks flushing. “A bit. You’re kind of intense, you know.”
Randy’s grin sharpened. “Good.”
Liam clasped his hands together nervously at his waist. “Do you normally surprise guys you meet on GaydR in class?”
Randy stared at Liam for a moment, not answering right away.
Liam tried to fill the empty space by speaking again, “Not that I’m complaining or anything…”
Randy smiled faintly, stepping in closer, close enough that Liam’s breath caught slightly.
“I don’t do anything ‘normally,’ Liam,” Randy said softly. His hand came up, just briefly, two fingers brushing under Liam’s chin, lifting it slightly. “You’ll get used to that.”
Liam’s lips parted, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But he didn’t pull away.
Randy let his fingers fall, stepping back, letting the tension stretch just enough before turning and gesturing casually over his shoulder.
“Come on.”
He didn’t look to see if Liam followed. He knew the boy would.
The bedroom was quiet, dimly lit, the toys Randy had laid out earlier sitting neatly on the nightstand. Randy crossed to the bed, turning back just as Liam reached the doorway, lingering there with that same nervous, eager-to-please energy.
Randy’s eyes ran over him again, slower this time.
“Take off your shoes.”
Liam blinked, then quickly bent to obey, fumbling slightly at the laces before straightening again.
“Shirt next.”
Another flicker of hesitation, then off came the fitted button-down, revealing smooth skin, a faint line of muscle, the kind of body that was toned but not hardened by hours in the gym.
Randy’s pulse stirred faintly. His cock shifted, not fully hard yet, but interested. Very interested.
He stepped in again, fingers brushing Liam’s waist, mouth lowering just enough to murmur by his ear.
“Pants next,” Randy said quietly.
Liam’s hands fumbled at his belt, cheeks flushed, movements quick but clumsy. Randy didn’t help. He just watched. Slow and patient.
When Liam finally stepped out of his pants, standing there in nothing but tight black briefs, Randy let his gaze move over him deliberately, tracing every line, every inch of pale skin and lean muscle. The slight tremble in Liam’s arms, the tension in his chest, the faint bulge already pressing forward in his underwear.
Randy reached out, slow, running one finger lightly down Liam’s stomach. Barely there. A whisper of contact.
Liam’s breath hitched. His eyes flicked down, watching, mouth parting as Randy’s finger traced lower, skimming just above the waistband, then sliding back up, following the faint line between his pecs.
Randy’s hand moved to Liam’s shoulder, slipping up along his neck, feathering lightly over his jaw.
Liam made a soft sound, half breath, half gasp, as Randy’s fingertip found his lips.
“Open,” Randy murmured.
Liam obeyed without hesitation, mouth parting wide as Randy slid his finger in, pressing lightly against his tongue, feeling the wet heat, the faint tremble of anticipation.
Randy smiled.
“Let’s see if your mouth is as good as you promised.”
Randy let his finger linger on Liam’s tongue for a beat longer.
Then he pulled it free and tapped the underside of Liam’s chin. “On your knees.”
Liam sank without a word.
He moved carefully, almost reverently, settling onto the hardwood. His knees shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position. He looked up once, uncertain, then dropped his gaze, not from shame, but insecurity. Randy noted that.
He stepped closer, undoing his belt with one hand, keeping his gaze locked on Liam. The metal buckle clicked faintly in the stillness.
“Hands behind your back.”
Liam obeyed again, fingers clasping at the small of his back.
Randy slid his jeans down, just enough. He let his cock fall into view slowly, already half-hard, thick and heavy.
Liam looked at it, really looked, eyes widening just a little before flicking back up.
Randy ran a hand through Liam’s hair, not rough, just enough to feel the texture.
“You’re going to suck me without using your hands,” he said. “Prove that you want to submit.”
Liam swallowed. “Yes, Sir.”
Randy raised an eyebrow.
“That wasn’t a prompt.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Randy guided the head of his cock to Liam’s lips. “Open.”
Liam did.
The first inch slid in easily, warm and wet. Randy held still, letting Liam adjust, watching the subtle movements of his mouth, the way his jaw stretched, how his breath shifted.
Then he pushed deeper.
Not hard — not yet — but deliberate. Controlled.
Liam took it well. His throat tensed but didn’t panic. He gagged once, softly, and steadied himself. Randy felt the heat of him, the faint hum of effort, the way Liam tried not to move too much, not to break the rhythm.
Good.
Randy placed one hand at the back of his head and began to move.
Short thrusts at first, letting Liam feel it. Letting him get used to the weight, the pace, the control. Then deeper. Slower. Stronger.
Liam’s eyes watered. Saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth, slick and messy. He didn’t complain. He didn’t pull away.
He just let Randy use him.
And Randy, watching the boy kneel there so willing, felt himself getting harder.
Randy tightened his grip slightly, fingers threading deeper into Liam’s hair, thumb brushing along the boy’s temple.
He began to fuck Liam’s mouth with more force now, hips driving forward in smooth, deliberate strokes. No warning, no coaxing, just steady, hungry use.
Liam gagged softly again, his throat tightening as Randy’s cock pressed deeper, but he didn’t pull away. His hands stayed clasped behind his back, shoulders trembling faintly from the strain of holding still.
Saliva dripped freely now, sliding down Liam’s chin, soaking into the waistband of his briefs.
Randy watched all of it. The way Liam’s jaw flexed, the faint wet sounds filling the room, the flush creeping along the boy’s cheeks. He could feel Liam’s breath catch on every thrust, could see the effort it took to keep his mouth open, to keep taking it.
Randy leaned in slightly, murmuring low.
“Good.”
Liam’s eyes flicked up briefly, glassy and a little desperate, but shining.
Randy rewarded him with a firmer thrust, burying himself deeper, holding there for a beat longer, feeling Liam’s throat flex around him.
A low grunt escaped Randy’s chest. His cock pulsed against Liam’s tongue, thick and heavy, driving in and out with unrelenting rhythm.
He could feel Liam’s body react, the slight rock of his hips, the faint bulge growing harder in his briefs.
Randy smirked faintly.
The boy was getting off on it.
Of course he was.
Randy drove forward again, one smooth motion, hips meeting Liam’s face as the boy gagged hard, spit bubbling around the base of his cock. He held there just long enough to make Liam squirm, then pulled back, watching the strands of saliva stretch between them.
He ran his thumb along Liam’s wet bottom lip.
“Good boy,” he murmured softly.
Liam shivered, eyes fluttering half-shut, a soft, needy sound escaping his throat.
Randy’s grin sharpened.
They weren’t done yet.
Randy gave Liam’s jaw a gentle tap, then stepped back, his cock glistening with spit, flushed and rigid, the head flushed dark.
“Up.”
Liam scrambled to his feet, breath shaky, cheeks wet. His briefs tented forward sharply, the damp spot near the tip already obvious.
Randy tugged him forward, guiding him toward the bed, letting his palm slide down the boy’s back in a slow, possessive sweep.
“Off,” Randy said, flicking a finger at Liam’s underwear.
Liam obeyed quickly, pushing them down, stepping out, leaving himself fully exposed.
Randy’s eyes raked over him. Slim hips, a smooth line of muscle, skin flushed pale pink with arousal. Liam’s cock jutted forward, hard and eager, the kind of arousal that came not just from friction but from real desire.
Randy wrapped a hand around the base of his own shaft, giving it a slow stroke — the length gleamed wetly, veined, thick at the root but narrowing just slightly before the swollen tip. He pressed the head briefly against Liam’s lower back, smearing a streak of spit across his skin, marking him without words.
Liam shivered.
Randy reached for the lube, slicked his fingers, then pressed Liam gently forward onto the bed, bending him at the waist, guiding him onto his elbows.
“Stay still,” Randy murmured.
He worked Liam open slowly, fingers sliding in, watching the boy tense, then gasp, then ease back against the touch.
“Good,” Randy murmured, voice low, approving.
When Liam was ready, Randy positioned himself, one hand on the boy’s hip, the other guiding the flushed head of his cock to the waiting entrance.
He pushed in, slow but unyielding, feeling the tight heat stretch around him, feeling Liam’s whole body tense and tremble as he took it.
Randy let out a soft grunt, hips sliding forward in a steady, determined motion.
Liam moaned, breath shaking, hands fisting the sheets as Randy began to move, setting a rhythm that was firm, deliberate, uncompromising.
And it was only the beginning.
Randy thrust steadily, hips pressing deep as Liam whimpered softly into the mattress. His fingers clenched the sheets, legs trembling faintly with each drive forward.
Randy watched him closely, the flex of his back, the stretch of pale skin, the thin sheen of sweat beginning to rise.
He pulled back suddenly, withdrawing with a soft, wet sound. Liam let out a small, startled breath.
“Stay down.”
Randy reached to the nightstand, fingers closing around the paddle.
He ran the smooth surface lightly over Liam’s ass, just a whisper of contact, a teasing brush. Liam flinched, hips shifting.
Randy smiled. He drew his arm back slightly, then let the paddle snap forward with a sharp, clean smack.
Liam jolted, gasping aloud.
Randy gave him two more, alternating cheeks, each strike leaving a faint red mark.
“Good boy,” Randy murmured, running his hand soothingly over the heated skin.
He set the paddle aside, reached again for the lube, and this time slicked the rope he’d set out earlier. Not to tie — not tonight — but to test. To tease.
He looped it loosely under Liam’s chest, pulling it up lightly, just enough to make the boy arch back, head tilting, throat exposed.
Randy leaned in, pressing a kiss to the side of Liam’s neck, letting his teeth graze the skin lightly.
“Stay just like that.”
He positioned himself again, one hand gripping the rope for control, the other guiding himself back to Liam’s entrance.
He pushed in smoothly, sinking deep, this time drawing Liam back against him with the rope, controlling the angle, the force, the depth.
Liam moaned, the sound raw, hungry, the sharp edge of pain mixing with need.
Randy grinned, driving forward with a deliberate thrust, feeling Liam open under him, take him in fully, submit without hesitation.
Good.
Very good.
Randy gripped the rope tighter, his hips slamming forward with a sharp, deliberate force that rocked Liam hard against the mattress. The boy let out a choked gasp, fingers clutching the sheets, body jerking with every deep, punishing thrust.
Randy’s breath came rough now, his jaw clenched as he felt the tight grip of Liam’s body stretch and yield around him.
“Fuck, take it,” Randy muttered, low, almost to himself.
Most boys buckled by now. They started whining, twisting, trying to pull away, begging for a break. Liam didn’t.
He pushed back.
His back arched, ass lifting slightly, breath hot and ragged as he struggled to keep up with the pace, but he didn’t falter.
Randy let out a quiet, predatory sound, one hand sliding up Liam’s back, tangling roughly in his hair. He gave it a sharp tug, yanking Liam’s head back, exposing his flushed neck, the sharp line of his jaw.
Liam moaned, a raw, unguarded sound, hips shoving back helplessly against Randy’s next hard thrust.
Randy leaned in, his breath hot against Liam’s ear.
“You like that, don’t you,” he murmured.
Liam gave a broken little nod, eyes squeezing shut, mouth open in a desperate gasp.
Randy smirked, withdrew his hand from Liam’s hair, and pressed two fingers roughly between the boy’s parted lips, pushing deep, feeling Liam’s mouth open wide to take them in.
“Suck.”
Liam obeyed immediately, tongue wrapping eagerly around Randy’s fingers, his breath shuddering as Randy’s cock pounded into him from behind, driving him forward on each brutal stroke.
Randy grunted, eyes narrowing as he watched Liam stay with it, no flinching, no whining, no false cries for mercy.
His cock throbbed hard inside the boy, the wet, stretched heat gripping him perfectly, the slap of skin on skin filling the room.
Randy’s grin sharpened, his rhythm tightening, the pressure coiling in his gut, building, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
But not yet.
Randy pulled his fingers free from Liam’s mouth, watching the thin string of spit stretch, then break.
“Good boy,” he murmured, voice rough, almost low enough to be a growl.
He wrapped one hand tight around Liam’s hip, the other bracing against the small of his back, and began to move with a slower, grinding force, not soft, not easing off, but dragging every inch deliberately through Liam’s stretched, slick hole.
Liam let out a shaking moan, his whole body trembling under the weight of it, his cock throbbing hard beneath him, untouched but leaking onto the sheets.
Randy rocked forward, pressing deep, holding there, feeling Liam’s body clench tight around him, then relaxing only to take him further.
“Good boy,” Randy murmured, his breath hot against the boy’s neck. “Keep taking it. Keep holding on.”
He rolled his hips again, a slow, merciless push, letting Liam feel every thick slide, every pulse of arousal straining through Randy’s cock.
Liam gasped, arching back, eyes fluttering, his voice reduced to broken, eager sounds.
Randy’s fingers dug harder into Liam’s waist, nails pressing marks into the skin, his own breath sharpening, chest tight, the edge rushing up faster now.
He felt it building, the heavy, liquid heat pooling low in his gut, tightening with every drag and grind, every helpless little whimper Liam gave him.
“Stay still,” Randy ordered, the words barely more than a ragged breath.
Liam obeyed. He braced himself, hands clenched hard into fists, body quivering, letting Randy fuck him slow and deep, no resistance, no flinching, no false performance.
Randy let out a low, rough groan, his body tightening as the final wave crested, cock twitching hard inside Liam, the sharp snap of pleasure about to break loose.
One more thrust.
One more push.
And then—
With a final, sharp thrust, Randy buried himself fully, a guttural sound tearing from his chest as his orgasm ripped through him.
His cock pulsed hard inside Liam, thick surges spilling deep as his body jolted forward, fingers gripping tight at the boy’s waist, holding him still, locked in place.
Liam let out a choked gasp, his own body shuddering, breath catching as Randy drove into him one last time, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the room.
Randy stayed pressed there, chest heaving, hips flush, his cock twitching faintly as the last pulses drained away.
He let out a slow breath, loosening his grip, easing back just slightly, feeling the slippery slide as he slowly pulled out.
Liam slumped forward onto his elbows, gasping softly, his back damp with sweat, his thighs shaking faintly from exertion.
Randy stood over him for a moment, watching.
He reached down, ran a hand lightly along Liam’s spine, feeling the faint tremble still rippling under his skin. Liam’s cock was still hard, dripping onto the sheets, untouched, neglected.
Randy smirked faintly.
The boy had taken it. All of it.
Not just the fucking, the force, the pace, the pressure, — but his control. The lack of coddling or coaxing. He didn’t need his hand held — or more accurately, his head.
Most boys wilted under that. They started whining, asking for reassurance, needing to be guided through.
Liam had just… surrendered.
Quiet. Raw. Willing.
Randy’s eyes flicked over the boy’s body one last time before he stepped back, running a hand through his own hair, letting the cool air hit his skin.
He wasn’t smiling now.
He was thinking.
Maybe this one wasn’t just a good fuck.
Maybe.
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