I never expected to see Mason again, let alone end up in his hot tub on a Saturday night. We weren't really all that close back in high school, we knew of each other, but never really in the same friend group. He was one of the popular jocks and was on almost every sports team. He was, and still is, athletic, popular, and so far out of my orbit. I was popular in my own way being part of student government and all, but again, Mason and I never really hung out together.
Life has a funny way of bringing people back together. Mason and I physically bumped into each other at a mall of all places. When I look up to apologize, I'm staring into these familiar eyes, except now they're set in a face that's somehow even more handsome than I remember. The boyish features have sharpened into something rugged and masculine. His jaw is more defined, there's stubble along it that makes him look distinguished, and his body has transformed from high school athlete to something that belongs on a fitness magazine cover.
"Holy shit, is that you?" he says, and that smile is the same one I remember, bright and genuine.
We catch up right there in the middle of the mall, and it's surprisingly easy. He tells me about his job, I tell him about mine, and before I know it, he's suggesting we hang out sometime. "I've got a hot tub at my place," he says casually. "You should come over this weekend and hang out, it’ll be nice to catch up!"
I agree, thinking it'll just be a chill evening with an old acquaintance.
The weekend came by quick. When I arrive at Mason’s place, he directed me to the hot tub on his back deck. He was already shirtless when he answered the door, and so he eased himself into the hot tub as I was stripping down to my swimming trunks.
We talk about everything like jobs, mutual friends from high school, where life has taken us. The conversation flows easily, a lot easier than most people I talk to. I'm genuinely enjoying myself, rediscovering this person I barely knew years ago.
Then the conversation shifts. I'm not even sure how it happens, but suddenly we're talking about relationships, dating, and then sex. Mason leans back, his arms spread along the edge of the tub, and starts telling me about some of his experiences. He's casual about it, almost nonchalant, but there's something in the way he phrases things that makes me pay closer attention.
"Yeah, I've mostly been with women," he says, taking a swig of his beer. "But I've fucked around with some guys too. College was wild, man. Being in a frat, I think that was the wildest time for me, you know?"
I feel my eyebrows raise. This is not information I expected to learn tonight. Mason, star athlete, popular jock, isn't fully straight. The revelation sends a little thrill through me that I try to suppress. "Really?" I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. "I wouldn't have guessed."
He shrugs, a slight smile playing at his lips. "Yeah, well, high school me was pretty deep in the closet. Can’t blame me since everyone was so religious around us. I didn't really explore it until college, but I didn’t really do anything too serious." He looks at me with curiosity. "What about you? You seeing anyone?"
I decide to be honest. "I’m not. Dating is hard, I’m too picky I guess. But I get where you’re coming from being bi myself."
His eyes widen slightly, genuine surprise crossing his features. "No shit? I had no idea."
"Yeah, well, high school me didn’t really know either."
We share a laugh, and there's this moment of understanding between us, this recognition of shared experience. The energy in the hot tub shifts, becomes charged with something I can't quite name but definitely feel.
We keep talking, but now there's an undercurrent to everything. Mason tells me about his wildest hookups in college, the parties, the freedom of exploring his sexuality. I share some of my own stories, and I notice the way his gaze lingers on me, the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
Then I feel his hand on my thigh, warm even through the hot water. It's casual at first, like maybe it's accidental, but then his fingers start moving, sliding higher, inching toward the leg of my swimming trunks. I look at him, and he's watching me with this expression that's part nervous, part hungry. His cheeks are flushed, and I can't tell if it's from the heat of the water or something else entirely.
I don't overthink it. I move closer, closing the distance between us, and slide my arms around his broad shoulders. His skin is hot and slick under my hands, his muscles firm and defined. I pull him toward me, and then we're kissing.
It starts slow, tentative, like we're both testing the waters. But it doesn't stay that way for long. The kiss deepens. His lips are soft but insistent, and when his tongue slides against mine, I let out a small groan that gets lost in his mouth.
Our hands start roaming. Mine explore the expanse of his back, feeling every ridge of muscle, every curve and plane of his incredibly built body. He's so fucking muscular, even more impressive up close than he looked from across the tub. His hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, and I can feel the hardness of his body pressed against mine.
The kissing gets more heated, more frantic. I run my hands over his chest, feeling his pecs, his abs, the V-line that disappears into his trunks. He's breathing hard, his chest heaving against mine, and I can feel his heart pounding.
Then his hand moves to my crotch, palming me through my trunks, and I'm already half-hard from the kissing alone. He squeezes gently, and I thrust into his hand involuntarily. He pulls back from the kiss just enough to look down, and then his hands are tugging at my waistband, pulling my swimming trunks down.
My cock springs free in the water, fully hard now, and Mason's hand wraps around it. He gasps when he feels the size of me. His eyes go wide, and there's this look of hunger and surprise on his face that makes me even harder.
"Fuck," he says, and then he's pulling his own trunks down, freeing his cock. It's nice a little smaller than mine, but thick and curved nicely. He wraps one hand around himself and keeps the other on me, and we're stroking each other, kissing messily, the water sloshing around us with our movements.
I'm lost in the sensation, his hand on my cock, his tongue in my mouth, the heat of the water and his body.
I pull back and stand up, water dripping off my body. My cock juts out, hard and dripping with a mixture of hot tub water and precum. Mason's eyes are locked on it, and before I can say anything, he's leaning forward, his mouth opening.
He takes me in, and fuck, the sensation is incredible. His mouth is hot and wet, his tongue swirling around my head before he takes me deeper. I look down and see this gorgeous, muscular man sucking my Asian cock with genuine enthusiasm.
He's good at this, really good. He takes me deep, and when he gags slightly, it only makes it hotter. I thread my fingers through his hair, not pushing, just holding, and he looks up at me with those bright blue eyes, and I nearly lose it right there.
I pull back, my cock sliding out of his mouth with a wet pop, and he looks up at me with this dazed, hungry expression.
"You want to take this inside?" he asks, his voice rough.
How the fuck could I say no to that?
We barely make it to his bedroom. We're kissing the whole way, stumbling through his house, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Our hands are everywhere, grabbing, squeezing, exploring. By the time we reach his bed, I'm so hard it almost hurts.
I push him down onto his back, and he goes willingly, his muscular body sprawling across the mattress. I take a moment just to look at him, this handsome hunk, flushed and breathing hard, his cock hard against his abs.
Then I'm on him, attacking his body with my mouth. I start at his chest, sucking one of his nipples into my mouth. He gasps, his back arching off the bed, and I bite down gently. His moan is loud, uninhibited, and it spurs me on. I move to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment, sucking, biting, teasing with my tongue until he's writhing beneath me.
I trail my tongue up his chest, along his collarbone, up the column of his neck. I can feel his pulse racing under my lips. When I reach his jaw, I bite down on the muscle there, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make him gasp. Then I move to his ear, biting the lobe, licking the shell, and his moans get even louder.
"Fuck," he breathes, his hands gripping my shoulders. "Fuck, that feels good."
His cock is rock hard, pressed between our bodies, and I can feel it twitching with every touch, every bite. I reach down and wrap my hand around it, stroking slowly, and he bucks into my grip.
But I have other plans. I shift my position, straddling his broad chest, my cock right in front of his face. He looks up at me, and there's this moment of understanding before he opens his mouth.
I push forward, sliding my cock between his lips, and start to thrust. Slowly at first, letting him adjust, but then faster, deeper. I'm face fucking him, and he's taking it, his hands gripping my thighs, his eyes watering slightly as I hit the back of his throat.
He gags, chokes, but he doesn't pull away. If anything, he seems to want more, his tongue working against the underside of my cock, his throat relaxing to take me deeper. I pull back before I get too close to the edge, my cock sliding out of his mouth. He's breathing hard, his lips swollen and wet, and he looks absolutely debauched.
"Can I fuck you?" I ask, my voice rough with desire. "I'm a top, but if you're not comfortable with it, we can just keep doing this. Jerk each other off, whatever you want."
He looks at my cock, and I can see the hunger in his eyes, but there's nervousness too. "I've never really bottomed before," he admits. "I've used dildos, my fingers, but never an actual cock."
The revelation sends a thrill through me. This gorgeous, muscular man, and I'd be his first. "We'll go slow," I promise. "I'll make it good for you."
He looks at my cock again, then back at my face, and nods. "I want to try. I want that cock of yours."
Fuck. Hearing him say that, seeing the desire in his eyes, I feel honored. This muscle hunk is trusting me with something he's never given anyone else. I move down his body, positioning myself between his legs. "Let me prep you first," I say, and he nods, spreading his legs wider.
I start with my fingers, using lube I find in his nightstand. I circle his hole, teasing, before slowly pushing one finger inside. He's tight and I take my time, working him open gently. When I add a second finger, he moans, his back arching.
But I don't just use my fingers. I lean down and bite at his ass cheeks, sinking my teeth into the firm muscle. He gasps, his hole clenching around my fingers, and I do it again, harder this time. I alternate between biting and licking, marking his perfect ass while my fingers work inside him, stretching him, preparing him.
"Fuck, that's hot," he groans, and I can feel him relaxing, opening up for me.
When I think he's ready, I pull my fingers out and lube up my cock. I position myself at his entrance, the head of my cock pressing against his hole, and look at him. He's shaking — whether from nerves or anticipation, I'm not sure — but his eyes are locked on mine, and there's trust there.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Yeah," he breathes.
I push forward slowly, so slowly, feeling his hole resist and then give way. The head of my cock pops inside, and he gasps, his back arching dramatically off the bed. I pause, letting him adjust, and he's so fucking tight I have to concentrate on not cumming right then and there.
"You okay?" I ask, my voice strained.
"Yeah," he pants. "Keep going. Slow, but keep going."
“Breathe.” I push in another inch, then another, whispering reassurances the whole time. "You're doing so good. Keep breathing as you take my cock."
His moans get louder with every inch I give him, and I can see the mix of pain and pleasure on his face. When I'm about halfway in, I pause again, letting him breathe.
"Good boy," I murmur, and his reaction is immediate. He moans, his hole clenching around me, and I realize he likes that. "Such a good boy, taking my cock."
"More," he gasps. "Give me more."
I push in further, inch by inch, until finally I'm fully seated inside him. My hips are flush against his ass, my cock buried completely in his tight heat, and the moan he lets out is the most satisfied, desperate sound I've ever heard. I lean forward, bringing my face close to his, and kiss him deeply. He kisses back frantically, his hands gripping my back, holding me close.
"I'm going to start moving," I tell him. "Tell me if it's too much."
I start with slow, shallow thrusts, barely pulling out before pushing back in. He's so tight, so hot, and every movement sends pleasure shooting up my spine. But I focus on him, watching his face, making sure he's okay.
His moans are constant now, and after a few minutes, they change from pained to purely pleasurable. "Faster," he begs. "Please, fuck me faster."
I don't need to be told twice. I grip his hips and start to thrust harder, faster, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, along with his moans and my grunts.
"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Your cock feels so good."
I'm mesmerized by the sight, my cock disappearing into his ass over and over, his muscular body flexing and bouncing with each thrust. I spank him, the sharp crack of my hand against his ass making him moan louder. I reach up and tug his hair, pulling his head back, and he loves it, his hole clenching around me.
I lean down and kiss him messily, our tongues tangling, and he kisses back desperately, like he can't get enough.
"Good boy," I growl against his lips. "You like my cock fucking you?"
"Yes," he moans. "Fuck, yes, I love it."
“Feel good?”
“Feels amazing!”
I fuck him harder, rougher, and suddenly his whole body tenses. His back arches, his mouth falls open in a silent scream, and then he's cumming, shooting all over his bed. The feeling of his hole spasming around my cock, nearly pushes me over the edge. But I hold back, slowing my thrusts, letting him ride out his orgasm.
When he comes down, his body going limp, I pull out. He whimpers at the loss, and I turn him over, positioning him on his back this time. I want to see his face, want to watch him while I fuck him.
I pull his legs up, draping them over my shoulders, and push back inside. This angle is even better. I can see his face, flushed and beautiful, his eyes glazed with pleasure. I can see his muscles flex and bounce with each thrust, his pecs, his abs, everything.
I start stroking his cock as I fuck him, and he's already getting hard again. His moans are music to my ears, desperate and needy, and I can't get enough.
"You're so fucking hot," I tell him, meaning every word.
"Fuck me," he begs.
I do. I fuck him hard and fast, my cock pounding into his tight hole, my hand stroking his cock in rhythm. The pleasure is building, coiling tight in my belly, and I know I'm not going to last much longer.
"I'm close again," he gasps, and I can feel it, his hole tightening, his cock throbbing in my hand.
"Cum for me," I command.
He does, with a roar that's almost animalistic. His whole body tenses, his hole clamping down on my cock like a vice, and he shoots all over his chest and abs, some of it even hitting his chin. This second orgasm is just as intense as the first.
The tightness, the sight of him cumming, it's too much. "I'm going to cum," I warn him, starting to pull out, but his hand shoots out and grabs my hip.
"No," he gasps. "Cum inside me."
Fuck. Those words are my undoing. I drive my cock in deep, as deep as I can go, and let go. My orgasm hits me, pleasure exploding through my body as I pump load after load into his tight hole. I can feel it, hot and wet, filling him up, and his moan tells me he can feel it too.
"Yes," he breathes. "Fuck, yes, fill me up."
I collapse on top of him, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat and cum. I kiss him, slow and deep, and he kisses back lazily, contentedly.
We stay like that for a while, just kissing, touching, coming down from the high. Eventually, I pull out, and we both watch as my cum starts to leak out of his hole. It's obscene but so fucking hot, and I can't help but push it back in with my fingers, making him gasp.
We spend the rest of the night cuddling, talking quietly, kissing occasionally. It's intimate in a way I didn't expect, comfortable and easy. We spend time like this for a few hours before I finally decide to go home.
Mason and I have been texting more since that night. He's busy with work, and so am I, but our conversations have a way of turning sexual. We’ll casually check in on each other, and somehow we end up talking about what we want to do to each other next time.
We haven't set anything up yet. But I get the feeling that we will, I just hope it’s soon.
If you enjoyed this story, consider visiting the author's website.
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
