After Mason and I took a nice shower (we took it separately though), I thought about something funny to do during the afternoon. That rare, dangerous kind of thought.
Mason was toweling his neck and chest, looking relaxed in that post-workout-aftercare glow he always had. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, still replaying the last twelve hours in my head, but trying to sound casual:
“Hey,”
He looked at me:
“What’s up?”
And that’s when it hit me:
“Ice skating.” I blurted out.
He blinked:
“Like… like sliding on ice, like dancing and shit?”
“No idiot, more like casual and fun ice skating. Ever done that before.”
He seemed to ponder to a very distant time:
“Not since elementary I guess. Could be fun.”
I nodded, happy about my sudden idea. It was perfect weather after all and it had been a long time since I've done something like that, especially with someone close as Mason.
"Now?" He almost seemed panicked.
“Well there’s a rink not far from here. I was thinking… we’ve never done that together.”
That got his attention. He squinted, already suspicious:
“Gotta' tell you though. I’m gonna suck at ice skating. I know it”
"It's ok” I said immediately. “That’s kind of the point.”
He laughed, big and loud:
“I’m built for vertical surfaces and heavy things. Ice is not my natural habitat.”
I shrugged:
“You’d survive. I’m actually… decent. Balance stuff. Yoga advantage.”
That made him pause.
I could see the mental image forming: him, flailing. Me, somehow involved. Catching the big gymbro in my arms. Well, trying to catch him at least.
“So I’d have to hold onto you,” he said, half joking.
“Probably,” I admitted. “For safety reasons.”
He grinned:
“You just want an excuse to see me eat shit again?”
“Maybe,” I surrendered. “And it’s cold. You claim you don’t feel cold. This is your chance to prove it.”
That sealed it.
“Alright,” he said, tossing the towel aside. “But if I fall, I’m taking you with me.”
“Deal.”
He clapped his hands hard, energized already:
“Ice dating it is then. Never thought I’d say that.”
And just like that, we had a plan. Something new. And I couldn’t stop smiling, because I already knew exactly how this was going to end: with Mason clinging to me for dear life and getting closer and closer to my heart.
- - -
The rink was already cold enough to make my bones complain, and Mason, of course, stepped onto the ice like he was immune to weather and consequences.
He took one glide forward, immediately wobbled, and grabbed my arm with both hands.
“Okay,” he said calmly, “this is way worse than I imagined.”
I laughed, skating backward in front of him, hands on his forearms to keep him steady:
“Relax. Bend your knees. You’re standing like you’re about to dead lift the ice.”
“That’s because it's fucking threatening me man,” he replied, dead serious.
He stuck close after that. Like really close. One arm around my shoulders, the other gripping my hand, his chest practically glued to my back whenever he lost balance (which was often). Every time he slipped, he’d instinctively pull me in instead of away, like I was the obvious solution to gravity.
“Fuck” he muttered at some point, chin near my ear, “you’re actually really good at this.”
“Yoga,” I said. “Balance. Core.”
“Yeah well,” he added, tightening his arm around my waist as his skate slid out again, “I trust you.”
That really did something to me.
Also... the fact that his bulge was poking at my thigh was making things a bit harder.
We moved slowly, half skating, half shuffling, Mason narrating his own downfall like a sports commentator. It was genuinely funny seeing him so lost on the ice.
He kept thanking me, apologizing, then immediately leaning back into me again. At one point he rested his hands on my hips like if we were a couple (I mean, we were starting to be one anyway), guiding himself by following my movements.
“Am I being annoying?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“Course' no idiot,” I said. "I'll guide you.”
He grinned:
“Good. Cause I’m not letting go.”
He just… stayed there. Close. Warm. Protective in that absent-minded way that felt way too intimate for a public rink but also weirdly right. Sometimes I could spot some people looking at us with a bit of a confused look (no worries guys, I was also confused!), we even had some girls laughing in a way that surely meant
Omg they're so cute together.
I wish I could see us right now from another perspective.
We didn’t go fast. We didn’t do tricks. We just circled the rink slowly, Mason clinging, laughing, his big cock occasionally pressing hard against my ass through his jeans, before realizing what he’d done and going:
"Fuck, sorry. Balance thing.”
I pretended not to notice with a big slutty grin on my face. He pretended not to notice that I didn’t pull away.
By the time we left the ice, my legs were tired and my heart was doing something completely nonathletic. Mason squeezed my hand as we stepped off, grinning like he’d just conquered a mountain.
“Best idea you’ve had,” he said. “Next time I’ll be less trash.”
Mission accomplished guys. He was hooked.
And I loved ice-skating as a couple. Really felt good flying around with his strong presence right behind me.
- - -
As we were removing our skates in the lockers, I quickly noticed something odd about Mason's bottom. Because of course I did: the back of his jeans was darkened, soaked through from all the very ungraceful encounters he’d had with the ice.
He looked down, twisted a bit, then snorted:
“Well fuck,” he said, pointing at his own ass, “My ass is so cold.”
I couldn't contain my laugh:
“You’ve been baptized by the rink.”
“No kidding. My butt’s freezing now,” he added, completely unfazed.
By the end of practice, he was drenched from the waist down, cursing under his breath as he hobbled off the rink, his thick thighs chafing wet denim:
"Shit, bro, these things are worse than a bad lift. My balls are freezing too."
I grinned, grabbing his arm and steering him toward the locker room toilets.
"Come on, let's get you dried off before you catch a chill. Can't have that huge package shrinking on me."
The place was empty, just the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint echo of skates outside.
I locked the door behind us, the air thick with that post-practice musk of sweat and a bit of chlorine too. Not the best smells but it was kinda exciting to be honest.
Mason leaned against the sink, peeling off his hoodie to reveal that ripped torso, pecs flexing under his white tank top:
"Fuck this cold. Hurry up, Jonas. My dick's gonna go numb if you don't do something.
I dropped to my knees in front of him, hands on his belt, unbuckling it quick. I took a second to glance at his face, and was not disappointed:
He had a big cocky grin over there. Of course he knew what he was doing.
His jeans were plastered to his legs, the outline of his massive cock already half-hard from the friction.
I tugged them down, inch by inch, watching as his bare skin emerged.
No underwear, of course.
Just that veiny monster flopping free, heavy and thick, slapping against his thigh with a meaty thud.
He stepped out, butt naked from the waist down, his muscular ass cheeks flexing as he balanced. Water dripped from the denim pooled at his ankles, and his cock hung there, low and full, the fat head already glistening with a bead of precum.
I couldn't help staring: size play hit different in the harsh light, his balls sagging heavy, packed with that bro load he hadn't emptied yet.
"By the way man, do you never wear undies,?" I asked, bundling his jeans and heading to the hand dryer on the wall, flicking it on with a roar of hot air.
Mason chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest, cock bobbing as he shifted:
"Too tight and annoying, bro. Feels like my package is compressed all day."
He went to grab at his cock while saying that, without even thinking about it probably. Like a reflex to feel it finally free and maybe make sure those balls did not stick to his thigh.
"It ain't good for the boys. Gotta keep it breathable for them, y'know? Don't want it too hot for my children."
He said it straight-faced, all casual bro logic, but the way he cupped his sack protectively made me burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the tiles.
"Your children? Fuck Mason... I mean, it kinda makes sense: you run so damn hot already, and that dick? No undies could cage it anyway. It's a beast."
He smirked, pride flashing in his eyes as his cock twitched, thickening at the praise, the head swelling to push out another thick drop of precum.
We stood there, the dryer blasting warm air over his jeans draped on the edge, but Mason's attention was on me, his body heat cutting through the chill. He stepped closer, that naked lower half invading my space, his cock pressing against my thigh through my pants, hard and leaking now, the musky scent hitting me like a drug.
"Speaking of... been pent up since last night, Jonas."
"Yeah, I can feel you need it."
"Having that ass so close all night, had me throbbing bad." His voice dropped low, teasing, as he rubbed the fat shaft against me, smearing wet heat on my leg. My hole clenched at the memory, still sore and gaping from his earlier fucks, but my mouth watered for that monster. I grinned up at him, submissive urge kicking in hard.
"I've got an idea for that, big guy." I said, teasing. "Something to worship this cock right."
His eyes lit up, curious and hungry, that cocky smile growing as he spread his stance to let me a better access.
Like the good slut I was slowly becoming for him, I sank to my knees on the cold tile, the dryer humming in the background like white noise to our building heat. His adorable gymbro face watched me, his eyes getting darker with need.
I gripped the base of his thick cock, veins pulsing under my fingers. Fuck, it was huge, stretching my hand wide, the head purple and wet with his juice.
I leaned in, tongue flicking out to lap at the slit, tasting that salty precum thick as lube. He groaned, hand tangling in my hair, guiding me without force. Slowly, I parted my lips, taking the head in with a wet suck, my jaw aching already from the girth.
Inch by inch, I worked him deeper, grunting around the meat as it filled my mouth. His pubes tickled my nose as I pushed on, throat relaxing from all our practice, the size play making my eyes water but my dick rock-hard in my pants. Saliva dripped down his shaft, mixing with his leaks, as I bobbed, taking more.
Halfway, before I had to force it down, past my poor throat, let it explore deeper and deeper.
"Fuck! Missed that so much." He grunted the helmet was getting into my gullet.
Three-quarters, gagging softly but powering through. Mason's breaths came ragged, his muscular thighs tensing under my hands.:
"Fuck, bro... yeah, just like that. Let me in."
I hummed around him, vibrations making his balls draw up, and with one final push, I buried my nose in his musky bush, lips sealed around the base.
"Wow, so good your can take it all Jonas."
His huge cock was lodged ballsdeep, pouring precum inside my neck with a steady pace. He grunted deeper in approval, hips bucking once, the twitch of his fat shaft making my Adam's apple shift.
Fuck. It's in my fucking neck. Best cock ever.
Mason's grip tightened in my hair, his thick fingers massaging my scalp as he held me there, my throat bulging around his massive cock. The veins throbbed against my tongue, that fat head lodged deep, blocking my airway just enough to make my lungs burn with need.
I swallowed hard, milking him, feeling the slick slide of his precum coating my gullet like hot oil. The dryer's roar drowned out the wet gurgles from my stuffed mouth, but Mason's low groan cut through, his balls resting heavy on my chin, musky and full.
We could hear the voices of several clients outside the toilets, not that far from us. The idea of someone possibly hearing my gagging and choking sounds was so exciting.
He pulled back slow, letting me gasp a breath, strings of spit connecting my lips to his glistening shaft:
"Fuck, Jonas... you want my load down that throat? Been dying to dump it in you."
His voice was rough, cocky edge laced with awe as he stroked his slick cock, smearing the mess over the head.
"Seriously... Can't wait to fuck this yoga throat again. No girl's ever taken me ballsdeep like that. Can I fuck it?"
I nodded fast, eyes watering up at him, fully submissive, my own cock straining in my pants, leaking from the size of him dominating my face.
Yes, please... give it to me stud!
Mason grinned at my submissiveness, guiding my head up and down his shaft. I dove in, slamming my lips down his length, throat stretching wide as the head crushed past my uvula. Gagging wetly, I bobbed hard, pulling off to the tip then driving down, nose burying in his sweaty pubes each time.
His cock invaded my gullet over and over, the girth making my jaw ache, spit bubbling out the corners of my mouth and dripping onto his balls. He let me set the pace at first, grunting with each deep swallow, his thighs flexing under my hands as I worshiped that monster.
"Come on Jonas, keep those reps steady. Up and down. There you go boy."
After a few minutes of training my mouth around his shaft, he couldn't restrain himself anymore: his hips started to buck, taking control, fucking my face with all his length.
"Good. So fucking good."
He thrust hard, crushing my uvula flat, dripping thick ropes of precum straight into my throat on a steady rhythm. The salty flood built up, warm and slick, as he plowed deeper, his balls slapping my chin with wet smacks. He turned into a fucking machine, grunting and panting like he was mid-lift at the gym, sweat beading on his ripped abs.
"Take it, Jonas! Every inch down that hole." His dick invaded my gullet with every brutal thrust, stretching my neck visibly, the outline of his fat shaft bulging as he rammed home.
I choked and slurped, tears streaming, but the burn only made my dick throb harder, the size play hitting me raw—his huge cock owning my throat like it was made for it.
Mason's musk filled my nose, his protective hand steadying my head as he pounded relentlessly.
My hands gripped his muscular ass, warming it up, pulling him deeper, urging him on despite the gag reflexes firing:
"Shit, bro... you ready for my babies? Gonna give them to ya." He growled it between pants.
I moaned so desperately around his cock.
Fuck, give it all to me.
He bucked even faster and harder in my throat, for like a full minute, before his ass bucked forward one last time, making his cock slide ballsdeep.
Euphoria hit me as I could feel his balls bounce under my chin, the vibration so strong and sexy it made my dick explode in my pants, hot cum soaking my undies in sticky bursts, just from his dominance.
"Fuck bro, take that protein!"
He started counting, voice strained:
"One... fuck, take it!" A fat cumload shooting directly into my gullet, thick and ropey, blasting past my tonsils.
I didn't have to swallow, everything was pumped straight into my belly.
"Two... yeah, swallow my load baby."
Baby? Fuck I'm dying over here.
Another twitch, another massive spurt, filling my throat so full it backed up, cum bubbling at my lips as I gulped.
The heat accumulated in my belly, comforting and heavy.
"Three... goddamn, your throat's milking it out." His cock pulsed deep, balls contracting visibly, pumping jet after jet straight to my gut.
I felt it sloshing inside, warm waves settling low, my sore ass clenching in memory of his earlier breedings.
He grunted through four, five, each blast thicker, his sweat dripping onto my face as he held me impaled.
At his 6th, I just couldn't keep up and had to breath. I was seeing stars and starting to lose conscience, pretty alarming when I think about it now.
I pushed his thighs back, trying to make him move, my eyes wet with tears from the lack of oxygen and the weird oral stimulation.
"Shit... sorry." He said while withdrawing a few inches, his fat helmet popping out of my destroyed throat. "Gonna finish right there."
I swallowed greedily, the warmth spreading down, but he kept going.
And going.
And going.
His load was like never ending.
Know I knew what it would cost me to tease the guy and not letting him cum.
The dryer clicked off suddenly, leaving just our heavy breaths and the wet slurp of his final thrusts.
"Fuck... twelve baby. Keep swallowing. Fuuuck."
Mason eased back an inch, letting the last dribbles coat my tongue, but he stayed in my mouth eyes locked on mine now, curious hunger still burning.
"Fourteen, bro! Biggest... fuck - Load ever!"
I felt an explosion inside the back of my mouth. Thing is, it was already full of cum I didn't have time to swallow. So it ended up finding a new way out: my nose.
I kid you not, I felt his warm semen being pumped in my nostrils and bubbling out, before dripping in fat drops on his shaft.
"Shiiit babe!"
Fuuck Mason.
I'm was drowning in his thick semen.
This guy must had a serious case of hyperspermia. There was no way you could produce that much semen without some rare condition attached to it.
That was both my luck and my doom.
I coughed some of the last two cumshots around his helmet, cum dripping the sides of my face, oozing out of my nose.
"You good? Belly full yet?" His cock twitched once more, threatening another drop, as the locker room door rattled faintly outside, like someone was coming.
Oh shit...
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