Danny and Tommy
Danny never had to hide who he was at home. Tommy, Jackson, and Braden gave him hell like brothers do, but the teasing folded him in. They were loud and physical: slaps on the back, noogies, roughhousing; but they never let the outside world touch him. At school, if anyone took a shot at Danny for being small or bookish, one of them was there, shoulder first, shutting it down.
The locker-room stuff that wrecked other kids never broke him. Sure, they ribbed him about his skinny arms or how he couldn’t fill out a football jersey, but when he blushed or fired back, they laughed with him, not at him. They accepted he was different, proud of it, even. “You don’t need to be us,” Tommy told him once. “We’ve already got three of those.”
Tommy, the oldest, had a soft spot. When Danny started asking questions about sex, about bodies, Tommy didn’t brush him off. He told him straight: size wasn’t everything, though in locker rooms and weight rooms, a big cock spoke for you before you ever opened your mouth. Then he nudged Danny’s shoulder and said, “You’re not working with much, but you’ve got other things going for you.” It wasn’t a tease. Just loyalty, clear-eyed honesty.
The TV hummed with a college game. Braden and Jackson had just finished lifting, sprawled shirtless on the couch, skin slick with sweat, gym shorts hanging low on their hips. Danny sat wedged between them, neat in jeans and a clean tee, smaller but never out of place.
“Ran into Dalton today,” Braden said, scrolling his phone. “Guy had two pizzas and a case of Gatorade. Like he’s fueling a whole team.”
Jackson snorted, grabbing pretzels. “Dude looks like he eats cinder blocks for breakfast.”
Danny smirked. “He’s big, yeah.”
Braden flicked him a look. “You see him much?”
“Bumped into him at the gym. Whole rack shook when he dropped the bar.”
“Never seen him out with anyone,” Jackson said. “Always solo. Kinda weird, no?”
Braden shrugged. “He’s had a rough couple years. Give him a break.”
The glow from the TV washed over them, comfortable as furniture. Jackson nudged Danny’s knee. “So, Dalton. You’ve seen him. What’s the verdict?”
Danny kept his eyes on the screen. “Verdict on what?”
Braden groaned. “You know what.”
Jackson grinned, pressing Danny’s wrist onto his lap, right over the bulge in his shorts. “Bigger than me?”
Braden burst out laughing. “You’re insane.”
“What? We’ve all seen everything a hundred times.” Jackson leaned back, grinning wider. “What’s he gonna do, faint?”
Danny’s lips twitched. “You sure you want me to answer?”
Braden cackled, nearly falling over. Jackson shook his head but didn’t move Danny’s hand.
Danny set down his soda. “If you really want to know… I’ll have to measure you.”
Braden hooted. “Measure him!”
Danny stayed even. “It’s the only way to settle it. Scientific method.”
Jackson groaned, laughing despite himself. “You’re out of your mind.”
Braden egged him on until Jackson finally tugged his shorts lower. Danny crouched, tape measure steady in his hand. “I need full firmness for a valid reading.”
“What—you want me to get hard in front of you?” Jackson laughed, but the air shifted when he actually did. His cock thickened, heavy veins rising. Braden whistled.
Danny measured, voice flat. “Six inches long. Four inches around. Quick response time.” His eyes flicked up, deadpan. “Still not as large as Dalton.”
Jackson groaned, Braden howled, but soon Braden was tugging his own waistband down. Danny didn’t blink, tape in hand. Braden flexed, half-hard until Danny’s steady touch tipped him over.
“Seven and a half inches long, six and a half inches around.”
Jackson whistles. “Above average, especially in girth,” Danny reported, tone precise. “Excellent vascularity. Still not as large as Dalton.”
The room exploded with laughter and curses. Braden clutched his stomach, Jackson threw a pretzel, but Danny only tapped the tape measure. “Phase one: complete. For fuller data—phase two.”
“Phase two?” Jackson asked.
“Volume and velocity,” Danny said simply. “Ejaculation output.”
Braden nearly choked, but the challenge stuck. Soon the Gatorade bottle was on the coffee table, nitrile gloves snapped on Danny’s hands.
He stroked them both off in turn, calm and clinical, reporting every detail like he was dictating a lab report. Jackson groaned through a moderate release; Braden erupted harder, louder, filling the bottle more.
Danny stripped the glove and noted the results. “Subject two: superior output. Both above average. Neither surpasses Dalton.”
Silence landed heavy. Then the door opened.
“Yo, boys.”
Tommy filled the doorway, broad shoulders and gym bag in hand. His eyes flicked to the bottle, the flushed faces, then back to Danny. A slow grin spread. “What’d I miss?”
“Science experiment,” Braden muttered.
Tommy set down his bag, looking from Jackson to Braden, then to Danny with familiar fondness. “Phase three open?”
The younger two groaned, but Tommy just tugged off his hoodie, damp T-shirt clinging to his chest. Danny slid on another glove, slower this time.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
Tommy smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re running trials without your control subject.”
Braden groaned, but nobody stopped him. Tommy stripped down, cock swinging heavy. Danny wrapped his hand around him, and instantly it was different: less clinical, more charged. Tommy tilted into his grip, groaning low. Danny’s observations faltered, voice catching even as he tried to stay precise.
When Tommy came, it was explosive, filling the bottle past the others combined. Danny held him steady, glove slick, eyes locked on his face.
Then he stripped the glove, voice quiet. “Subject three: superior in every category. Output extreme.”
Tommy laughed, leaning close. “Told you. Can’t run the experiment without me.”
Braden and Jackson were stunned silent. The bottle sat nearly full on the table, obscene evidence.
Danny capped it, pen resting on the notes, and finally let the faintest smile crease his lips.
“Phase three,” he said softly. “Complete.”
Later that night, Danny’s door creaked open. He didn’t look up. Tommy never knocked.
The mattress sagged under his weight a second later, pulling Danny toward him like always. Tank clinging to his chest, thighs spread wide, hair still damp from his shower, shorts low on his waist. He leaned back against the headboard like he owned the bed.
For a beat he was quiet, watching the glow of Danny’s phone. Then he cut his eyes sideways, grin tugging at his mouth. “You really let Braden and Jackson run our experiment?”
Danny tugged his hoodie sleeve down over his hand, smirk faint. “It was nothing.”
“It was not nothing,” Tommy said. “Walked right in. Braden with a tape measure, Jackson giggling like a kid. And you. Doctor to the whole team.”
Danny’s lips twitched. “So?”
“So?” Tommy barked a laugh, chest rumbling. “That’s our thing. You and me. We’ve been doing that since forever.” His thigh pressed into Danny. “Didn’t think you’d share it.”
Danny’s gaze flicked up, calm. “Didn’t change anything. They don’t do it like we do.”
That softened something in Tommy. He leaned back, but his breath still came heavier than it needed to. His grin had an edge when it returned.
“Tell me about Dalton?”
Danny blinked. “What about him?”
Tommy rubbed his jaw, eyes narrowing. “He’s been around a lot. Braden, Jackson can’t stop talking about him. What’s he like?”
Danny exhaled slow, smirk tugging his mouth. “He’s cool.”
“He’s cool.”
Danny finally met his eyes, steady. “It’s nothing like this.”
That cracked Tommy wide open. His shoulders eased, grin softening into something boyish. He let his hand drop warm and heavy onto Danny’s shin, squeezing once.
“Good. ‘Cause this—” he gestured between them, “—this is ours.”
Danny tugged his hoodie sleeves up; his voice dropped into their familiar cadence. “Specimen A presents for nightly inventory.”
Tommy groaned, head tipping back, smiling helplessly. “Fuck, I love when you say that.” He stretched out, big frame sprawling across the headboard. “Go on then. Catalog me.”
Danny tugged at Tommy’s tank top, lifting it over the heavy ridges of his chest. The fabric peeled up slowly, baring the flat plane of his stomach, the deep cut of his abs, the thick swell of pecs rising with each breath. Tommy raised his arms, letting Danny strip it off completely.
Danny tossed it aside and sat back a second, hoodie sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His voice dropped into that even cadence.
“Specimen A: torso exposed. Pectoral mass: heavy, symmetrical. Areola size: moderate. Abdominal definition: pronounced, six visible sections, obliques sharply cut.”
His pale hand traced down the groove of Tommy’s stomach, fingertip following the deep line of muscle. “Waist circumference: thirty-one inches, narrow relative to shoulder width. Classic V-shape.”
Tommy groaned with pleasure, not just from the touch but from the words. “Love it when you talk numbers.”
Danny smirked faintly, then hooked his fingers under the waistband of Tommy’s jeans. He gave a tug. “Lower half required.”
Tommy lifted his hips obediently, grin cocky. “Get ’em off then.”
Danny slid the loose shorts down over Tommy’s quads until his large cock sprang free, heavy and flushed against his stomach.
Danny’s voice stayed clinical, his eyes bright. “Genitalia exposed. Penis length: eight point five inches, semi-erect. Girth: six inches. Vein prominence: high.” He gripped him at the base, weighing the thickness in his pale hand. “Shaft density: firm, warm. Glans circumference greater than shaft.” His thumb brushed the bead slicking the tip. “Pre-ejaculate present. Quantity: significant.”
Tommy’s head tipped back against the wall, chest rumbling with laughter. “Fuck, you’re good at this.”
Danny cupped his balls next, lifting, rolling them with precise fingers. “Testicular volume: above average. Symmetry intact. Density firm. Scrotal skin: tight, vascular, reactive.” He squeezed lightly, just enough to make Tommy grunt. “High output expected.”
Tommy groaned, gripping the back of Danny’s neck, anchoring him there. “Goddamn, I love this part.”
Danny smirked, but his voice stayed steady. “Specimen A: largest in group. Dominant in all trials. Inventory ongoing.”
Tommy laughed, low and ragged, spreading his thighs wider, cock twitching against his stomach. “Keep going.”
His cock lay thick against his stomach, balls hanging low in the heat. Danny slid closer between his thighs, pulling off his hoodie as he began the close examination.
“Specimen A,” Danny murmured, voice flat and precise. His fingers wrapped at the base, lifting the shaft to measure against his palm. “Penis length: nine point one inches, fully erect. Circumference: six and a quarter mid-shaft, six and a half at base. Weight: significant.”
He shifted his grip, thumb running slow along the thick dorsal vein. “Shaft vascularity: pronounced. Vein diameter wide, blood flow robust. Tissue density: firm, pliant under pressure.”
Tommy groaned low, hips tilting just slightly into Danny’s hand.
Danny didn’t look up. His voice stayed even. “Coloration: deep flush. Texture: smooth, moist. Sensitivity: high, responsive to minimal stimulation.” He pressed his thumb to the slit, smearing a bead of slickness. “Pre-ejaculate present. Volume: high. Viscosity: normal.”
Tommy’s chest rose harder, laughter bubbling out of him even as his cock jerked in Danny’s grip.
Danny’s free hand moved lower, cupping both testicles. He lifted the weight carefully, rolling each sac with methodical precision. “Testicular volume: large. Bilateral symmetry intact. Density: firm. Epididymal structures palpable, normal. Scrotal skin: vascular, flushed, responsive under manipulation.” He squeezed just enough to make Tommy grunt. “Temperature elevated, consistent with arousal.”
Tommy let out a deep groan, head tipping back. “Don’t skip the bush.”
Danny smirked faintly, his fingers brushed the coarse hair at the base, dark curls damp with sweat. “Pubic hair: dense. Color: dark brown. Distribution: full, extending lateral across pelvis and interior toward scrotum. Texture: coarse, wiry. Coverage: thick, full.”
He sat back slightly, both hands resting on Tommy’s lap; one still cradling the heavy sac, the other gripping the thick shaft upright. His voice landed the final note with that same measured calm.
“Final genital inventory: specimen unmatched in length, girth, and testicular mass. Output capacity above baseline. Presentation: dominant, virile, optimal.”
Tommy’s laugh burst out rough and delighted, chest heaving. He ruffled Danny’s hair with one big hand, eyes bright. “Goddamn. I love when you make me sound like a fuckin’ breeding bull.”
Danny smirked up at him, grip steady, voice still flat. “That’s exactly what the data shows.”
Tommy’s hand stayed heavy on the back of Danny’s neck, guiding him lower. His grin was wide, boyish but commanding. “ Multiple sense inventory, scientist. Not just visual. Gustatory, olfactory.”
Danny exhaled, steady. His pale hands were already firm on Tommy’s lap. His tone didn’t waver as he shifted, leaning closer.
“Commencing sensory evaluation.”
Danny bent closer, nose brushing the base. He inhaled. “Olfactory: musky, masculine. Sweat concentration high in pubic region. Scent profile: salty, earthy, consistent with post-exertion state.”
Tommy groaned low, hips flexing. “Yeah, that’s it. Catalog every fuckin’ sense.”
Danny smirked faintly, but his tone stayed calm. His tongue flicked across the head, tasting the bead of slick there. “Gustatory: pre-ejaculate present. Saline, mildly sweet. Viscosity: moderate, coats tongue evenly. Volume increasing with stimulation.” He licked again, slower. “Surface smooth, flavor consistent.”
Tommy’s chest rumbled with a laugh, rough and deep.
Danny had both hands on him now, one wrapped tight around the base of Tommy’s penis, the other cupping the heavy sac. His mouth stayed close, lips brushing, tongue tasting, words spilling out between breaths.
“Fuck, Tommy, your penis is so big. Thick in my hand. Heavy. Your big penis is so erect for me.” He stroked slowly, squeezing up toward the swollen head, smearing slick down the shaft. “I love my big bro’s penis. Love how strong it feels. Big penis, heavy penis.”
He dragged his tongue down, burying his nose in the thick hair at the root. His voice muffled against it. “Your bush smells like you. Sweat and salt. All of it wrapped around your penis, your big bull testicles.”
His palm rolled the sac, squeezing just enough to feel the tension. “Your testicles are huge. Full, swollen. Heavy with sperm. So much sperm waiting in here. Your big balls are loaded, straining.” He kissed the seam between them, tasting the sweat. “I love big bro’s bull balls. I love how full they are.”
Tommy groaned above him, hips rocking once into his grip, penis twitching.
“Yeah, you do. You love your big bro’s penis. You love my bull balls. Say it again.”
Danny’s grip tightened, stroking slow, deliberate. “I love your penis. I love your bull balls. I love your sperm.”
Tommy’s grin broke wide, breath rough. “That’s right. My big penis in your hands. My big bull balls full of sperm. You want all of it, don’t you?”
Danny nodded against him, lips brushing the slick head. “Yes. I want your penis. I want your big bull balls. I want the sperm inside.”
Tommy’s hips rolled up, pressing deeper into Danny’s grip, his voice dropping lower. “Then take it. Stroke it. Taste it. Talk to it. That’s what you need, isn’t it?”
Danny licked a slow line up the shaft, whispering as he did. “Big fat penis. Big bull balls. Big bull sperm.”
Tommy’s laugh cracked ragged, half-groan, half-triumph. “That’s my scientist. Keep telling me. Keep loving my big penis, my heavy ballsac, my sperm. Make it all yours. Say Danny loves it. Make it real.”
Danny’s lips parted, tongue tasting the slick bead at the tip. His voice quickened, tumbling now, raw. “Danny loves Tommy’s penis because it’s huge. Danny loves Tommy’s bull balls because they’re swollen, because they’re full of sperm, because they’re heavy and ready to spill for Danny. Danny loves Tommy’s sperm. Danny needs Tommy’s sperm.”
Tommy’s head tipped back against the wall, his grin gone, jaw clenched, breath breaking in harsh gasps. His cock twitched hard in Danny’s hand, the whole shaft jerking under the relentless praise.
“Fuck,” he growled, hips driving up. “Say it again—say you love Tommy’s sperm—”
Danny’s voice was sharp, steady, breath hot against him. “Danny loves Tommy’s sperm. Danny loves Tommy’s sperm. Danny loves Tommy’s sperm.”
Danny’s pale hand wrapped tight at the base, his forehead pressed close. He kissed the slick crown once, lips wet, then spoke against it.
“Danny loves Tommy’s penis.” Kiss.
“Danny loves Tommy’s big, fat penis.” Kiss.
“Danny loves Tommy’s heavy bull balls.” Kiss.
“Danny loves Tommy’s sperm.” Kiss.
Tommy’s chest heaved, every muscle tight, groan tearing from his throat. His hand steadied Danny at the back of the neck, easing him off his own swollen head. His voice was low, not sharp —, the kind of stop that was part of their rhythm. “That’s good, Danny. That’s enough. Now it’s your turn.”
Tommy caught Danny’s wrist before he could pull back. His hand was warm, steady, too big around Danny’s thin bones.
“Specimen B, present for inspection.”
Danny rolled his eyes but didn’t move away. “You’re not even good at this.”
“Shut up and get naked.”
Tommy sat at the edge of the bed, naked, legs spread, cock already heavy and pointing up against his stomach. He watched without blinking as Danny undressed.
“Take it off slow,” Tommy murmured, voice low but steady.
Danny obeyed. He peeled his t-shirt over his head, pale skin flashing in the lamplight, the movement baring his lean torso inch by inch. His nipples hardened in the cool air; his stomach stayed flat and hairless. Tommy’s cock twitched at the sight.
“Good…” Tommy shifted on the bed, the tip of his cock brushing against his thigh as he adjusted. “Keep going.”
Danny’s fingers went to his belt next. He popped the buckle, unzipped, and began easing the jeans down over his hips. The denim dragged across his skin, catching briefly on his pouched cage beneath before sliding free. Tommy leaned forward, green eyes locked, lips parted.
The jeans pooled at Danny’s ankles, leaving him in nothing but a baby-blue thong.
Tommy exhaled a rough sound. “Goddamn…”
Danny’s shoulders hunched a little, but he stayed still, letting Tommy look. The thong’s front panel was stretched taut over the chrome cage, a bulge of polished steel pressing against soft blue. The straps hugged his hips, then cut down sharply, vanishing into the deep cleft between his glutes. From behind there was nothing but bare flesh, both cheeks fully exposed, round and pale in the lamplight, the strap swallowed by the trench.
Tommy stood, cock swaying as he moved, and began circling Danny. Every step brought him close enough for the thick shaft to brush Danny’s side, his hip, the curve of his ass. He stopped behind him, gaze fixed on the way the thong disappeared. “Specimen B: thong minimal. Straps vanish into gluteal cleft. Result—” he reached out, palms cupping Danny’s cheeks, “—complete display of gluteal mass.”
Danny shivered under the touch. The thong’s back strap disappeared deeper as Tommy’s thumbs spread him slightly, exposing more skin. Tommy’s cock slid between the cheeks as he leaned in, smearing a little slick along the strap.
“Fuck, look at this,” he breathed. “Baby-blue strap cutting down into all this soft flesh. Cheeks heavy. Skin smooth. All right there for me.”
He moved around to the front again, cock brushing Danny’s belly now as he circled, the swollen head bumping lightly against his cage through the thong’s pouch. “Turn,” he said softly. “Slow.”
Danny turned in place, the thong’s strap sliding across his skin, his glutes flexing with each small movement. Tommy prowled, eyes drinking it in, his cock bumping Danny’s thigh, then his hip, then gliding once more down the cleft as he came back behind him.
Everywhere Tommy went, his cock brushed Danny — the front of his thigh, the curve of his ass, the small of his back — the constant hot pressure a wordless inspection of its own.
“Goddamn…” Tommy’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You standing there in baby blue, straps disappearing, cheeks out…” He let one hand drag slowly down Danny’s spine, stopping at the thong strap and following it down into the trench. “Perfect.”
Tommy’s hands finally slid off Danny’s ass, leaving his skin warm where they’d gripped him. He stepped around to the front, cock swinging heavy between them, brushing Danny’s hip as he closed the distance.
“Rotate specimen,” Tommy muttered, nudging Danny’s shoulder until he faced him fully. He took a step back just to loo: pale skin, lean chest rising fast with each breath, the cage gleaming low between his thighs.
Tommy’s big hand pressed flat against Danny’s sternum, spreading wide across his chest. He rubbed slow, then squeezed, fingers digging into the firm swell. “Pectoral mass: developed. Surprising for your size. Shape: rounded, full. Density: firm, resilient under pressure.”
Danny twitched when Tommy’s thumb brushed close to the nipple. That made Tommy grin, eyes glinting. “Nipple size: prominent. Coloration: darker than expected. Presentation: begging for stimulation.”
He pinched one between thumb and forefinger, rolling slow. Danny inhaled sharply, back arching before he could stop himself. Tommy leaned in, chest pressing Danny’s smaller frame, cock dragging up against the caged mound.
“Observation confirmed: sensitivity extreme.” He flicked the nub once more, then bent, lips closing around it. His tongue circled, tugging the bud until it pebbled hard in his mouth. Danny’s knees nearly buckled, a strangled sound catching in his throat.
Tommy pulled back, grinning wide, mouth wet. “Taste profile: clean, salt of sweat. Response: immediate.” He shifted to the other side, palming the pec roughly before dragging his mouth down.
He sucked hard, biting lightly, just enough to make Danny gasp again. Tommy groaned against his chest. “Yeah. Verified. You’re wired straight through these.” He rubbed both pecs now, kneading the firm mounds, cock grinding against Danny’s thigh as he worked. “Specimen’s chest, perfect balance of strength and softness.
Tommy’s hand left Danny’s pecs and moved lower, fingers spreading across the flat plane of his stomach. He pressed down, testing the give.
“Abdominal region: lean. No excess fat. Muscle tone present but not bulky. Surface completely hairless.” His thumb traced a small circle around the navel. “Texture: smooth, even.”
He crouched a little, eyes fixed on the mound just above the cage. His palm pressed there, rubbing slow. “Pubic region: cleared. Zero hair distribution. Skin soft, temperature elevated.”
Tommy crouched low and slowly pulled the pouch down to reveal the cage. He held it in his hand like it belonged on a lab table. His voice slipped into that calm cadence, but his eyes were bright, hungry.
“Genital inventory. Penis: caged. Visible length and girth restricted by device. Shaft: unavailable for direct measure. Glans: obscured. Erection attempt observed, expansion denied. Output: leaking, dripping.” His thumb pressed along the slick on Danny’s cage until he twitched.
He rolled the weight carefully, the cage shifting just enough to let him test what was inside. His voice lowered, still clinical. “Testes palpable. Volume: average to below average. Symmetry intact. Density firm to touch. Mobility limited by device. Scrotal skin—smooth, no hair, highly reactive.” He squeezed once, gentle but firm, and Danny’s whole body shivered.
His mouth traced every bar now, kissing, licking, cataloguing. “Material: cold steel. Surface: polished, slick with sweat. Taste profile: salt and iron. Fragrance: sweat concentrated at juncture. Distinct, intimate.” He pressed a wetter kiss against the lock itself. “Ornament and restraint combined.”
Both hands cupped the entire package, lifting it, weighing it. “Total genital presentation: penis eliminated from function. Testicles restricted, output limited. Display emphasizes absence of cock, permanence of cage.” His forehead dropped briefly against the cool steel, cock brushing Danny’s bare thigh as he breathed out.
Then Tommy whispered, almost like he didn’t mean to let it slip: “Specimen B: addictive.”
Tommy’s thumb still rested over the cage, circling slow, absentminded like he could feel Danny’s pulse through steel. Then he let his hand slide off, down over the inside of Danny’s thigh.
“Lower extremities,” he murmured, tone all mock-serious. His palm pressed into the smooth line of skin. “Quadriceps: compact. Dense muscle, not bulky. Hair coverage: zero.” He squeezed lightly, fingers digging in just enough to make Danny twitch.
Tommy shifted lower, both hands on Danny’s legs now, thumbs rubbing circles into his thighs. “Hamstrings: long, taut. Minimal fat coverage. Efficiency: high.” He glanced up, eyes gleaming. “Feels like a runner’s legs. You don’t run though.”
Danny muttered, “Not if I can help it.”
Tommy laughed, warm, the sound rumbling between them. He slid his hands further, over Danny’s knees, then down his calves, squeezing gently all the way. “Calves: lean. Defined. Hairless, just like the rest. Symmetry: perfect.”
By the time he worked his way back up, both of them were breathing harder than they needed to. Tommy’s big hands spread across Danny’s glutes, filling his palms. He squeezed experimentally, humming low.
“Posterior inspection,” he said, grinning into Danny’s ear, gently slipping the thong completely off. Danny shifted, stepping lightly until his back was to Tommy. The lamplight cut down his spine, pale and bare, the cage glinting when he moved. Tommy exhaled rough through his nose, cock brushing the small of Danny’s back as he circled behind him.
Both hands spread wide across Danny’s shoulders first, kneading once. “Upper back: lean. Muscle density: moderate.” His palms dragged down, tracing the ridge of spine, pressing into soft flesh.
He paused at Danny’s waist, squeezing each side like he was taking measure. “Obliques: compact. Pelvic taper visible. Narrow frame emphasized from behind.”
Tommy’s hands moved lower, spreading across the swell of Danny’s ass. He squeezed firmly, filling both palms, thumbs digging in until the cheeks parted slightly. His grin cut wide. “Gluteal mass: developed beyond expectation for subject size. Round. Density: surface pliant, core firm.” He jiggled them experimentally, watching the recoil. “Elasticity: excellent.”
He bent closer, nose almost brushing the cleft as he pulled the cheeks wider. “Cleft depth: pronounced. Strap indent faint from thong removal. Presentation: flawless.” His thumbs traced down, exposing the soft pink ring at center. “Anus revealed. Coloration: healthy. Reflex: immediate.”
Tommy hummed low, the sound half clinical, half reverent. His cock brushed Danny’s smooth thigh as he spread him open wider, leaking his excited pre down his leg. He crouched lower, his big hands spreading Danny’s cheeks wide. His breath came rough, hot against the cleft.
“Anus: fully exposed. Coloration: light pink. Texture: smooth, unblemished. Reflex: strong under minimal pressure.” He dragged one thumb slowly around the rim, watching it twitch. “Sensitivity: extreme.”
He hummed, leaning closer, inspecting every detail like he was logging data. His lips brushed the rim lightly, a soft kiss. “Olfactory profile: clean. Warm. Sweat trace minimal.” He pressed his mouth again, harder this time, tongue flicking briefly across the star. “Gustatory: salt, skin. Texture: velvet on my tongue. Reactivity: immediate.” Danny jolted, hips twitching forward, and Tommy grinned against him.
He spread him wider, spit dripping from his tongue onto the pucker, then licked it in, circling slow. “Observation: total lack of hair enhances display. Nothing to obscure view. Anus presented as primary site.” His words broke into a low groan as he sucked the rim into his mouth, pulling until it popped free, slick and glistening.
“Specimen’s anus: flawless,” he murmured, kissing it again and again between words. “Worship required.”
He buried his face deeper, tongue working messily now, kisses and licks alternating with words that spilled without restraint. “I love this. I love how smooth it is. I love how tight it grips. I love this perfect, hairless anus.” Another long lick, spit running down Danny’s cleft.
Tommy stayed crouched, thumbs holding Danny wide. His eyes locked on the twitching star, clean and bare. He kissed it again, lips soft, reverent. Then again, harder, tongue pushing in shallow before pulling back to kiss around the rim. Each touch was logged aloud, as though he couldn’t separate arousal from record.
He spit directly onto the ring, watched it glisten, then smeared it in with his tongue. He groaned, nose buried in Danny’s cleft. His mouth worked messily now, covering every inch. He licked up and down the crack, then returned to the center, circling, sucking, tonguing until the whole area was slick. Each time he pulled back, strings of spit stretched from his lips to the pink pucker. He’d kiss them away, only to make more.
Danny was trembling, his fists twisting in the sheets, caged cock leaking against his stomach. Tommy didn’t relent. He ate him out like he was starved, alternating gentle kisses with deep, sloppy licks that left his chin wet and Danny gasping.
The weight of Tommy’s hands eased off. Danny expected him to step back. Instead, the floor creaked, Tommy circling slow.
When Danny glanced up, his breath caught. There was no avoiding it. Tommy’s cock filled his vision, close enough he could smell the sharp salt of him, see the throb of blood in the thick vein along the shaft.
Tommy braced one hand on the headboard just above Danny’s head, the other brushing lightly through his hair. He looked down at him, green eyes bright, mouth tugged in a grin that was half-serious, half-playful.
“I love your anus,” Tommy murmured. His voice was steady, clinical but soft. “Sweet. Pink. Tight.”
He leaned closer, cock swaying inches from Danny’s face, his hand still warm against Danny’s temple. “I love how your anus tightens when I touch it.” His thumb rubbed along Danny’s cheekbone, almost tender. “I love your anus when you’re locked up. It makes it more special.”
Danny’s eyes squeezed shut, heat flooding his face, but the words sank in anyway.
Tommy repeated it, lower, like a chant. “I love your anus.” He kissed Danny’s hair. “I love your anus.” Another kiss, this time at his temple. “I love your anus.”
His cock pulsed in front of Danny, leaking now, the scent of him thick in the small room. Danny’s breath shivered out of him, hot against the shaft’s underside. He couldn’t look away. Veins ran thick under the flushed skin, the head swollen, a bead of slick glistening at the slit. He inhaled, and the sharp, salty musk filled him, dizzying.
The head swayed closer when Tommy shifted his hips, the crown brushing Danny’s lips. A startled sound escaped him, but he didn’t pull back. He kissed it, quick, trembling, then again, slower.
“Danny loves Tommy’s penis,” he whispered into the heat. Another kiss, this one longer, lips pressing soft to the ridge. “Danny loves Tommy’s penis.”
Tommy groaned above him, the sound low and ragged, hand still in Danny’s hair. “That’s it. Say it again.”
Danny obeyed, voice shaking but sure. He kissed the flushed crown once more, tasting the slick bead. “Danny loves Tommy’s penis. Danny loves Tommy’s big, fat penis.”
Tommy’s grip tightened in Danny’s hair, guiding the thick shaft against his lips, pressing harder. Danny opened for him, mouth stretched around the swollen crown, the heat of it flooding his throat.
“Good,” Tommy murmured, hips rolling forward, sliding deeper. “Danny takes it. Mouth wide, lips stretched.”
He pulled back, then drove in again, faster this time, the wet sound of it filling the room. Danny gagged once, throat convulsing, but Tommy held steady, not cruel, just steady. His voice stayed low, reverent.
“Oral cavity: tight, wet. Tongue pressure strong, palate smooth.” He groaned as he bottomed out, cockhead brushing the back of Danny’s throat. “Ingress depth: full. Reflex active.”
Spit began to leak out, slick and shining down Danny’s chin. Each thrust pushed more of it free, drooling over his lips, stringing down to his hoodie.
Tommy’s eyes softened as he watched it glisten. “Salivary output: high. Overflow present.” He thumbed the mess, smearing it gently along Danny’s jaw. “Viscosity: thin, clear. Coats specimen beautifully.”
He pulled Danny off just enough to see it drip from his lips, then guided him back down, groaning as Danny’s throat clenched again. Danny whimpered around him, spit bubbling, dripping down onto his bare chest now. Tommy’s cataloguing never faltered, each word hushed with admiration, every observation almost tender.
“Lips swollen, cheeks flushed. Oral canal flooded. Spit strings confirmed.”
His chest heaved as he watched the sight, Danny’s mouth stretched wide, chin slick, spit glistening. Tommy held Danny steady, hips rolling deeper, faster, the thick crown pushing past his lips again and again. Spit poured from him now, dripping down his chin, stringing off the shaft in wet ropes that broke and slid onto his chest.
“Your mouth’s so wet for me, Danny. Lips shiny, stretched wide. I love your lips on my cock. I love your spit all over me.”
Danny gagged as Tommy pressed further, throat squeezing tight. When Tommy pulled him off for air, he caught the sight: Danny’s eyes glassy, tears welling at the corners, cheeks flushed and wet with spit.
Tommy froze, chest heaving, his cock gleaming slick in the lamplight. His thumb stroked Danny’s wet cheek, smearing spit and a tear together. His voice dropped into something hushed, almost tender.
“God, you’re beautiful. I love your tears, Danny. I love the way your eyes shine when you take me this deep.”
He fed him the cock again, slower, his other hand cradling the back of Danny’s head. The mess only grew, drool bubbling at the corners of his mouth, spit sliding down his throat, chin glossy.
“I love how sloppy you get for me. Drool down your chest, spit strings off my cock… I love every bit of it.” His hips snapped forward once, deep, his groan breaking loose. “Your throat’s so tight. I love how it squeezes me. I love how you choke on me.”
Danny whimpered around him, the sound muffled, spit spilling faster. Tommy’s grip tightened, body trembling, every muscle taut.
“Danny,” he rasped, voice breaking as he held him down just long enough to feel the wet heat clench, “I love your mouth. I love your spit. I love your throat. I love the way you look at me with those wet eyes while you take my cock.”
He pulled Danny back, lips swollen, face shining, spit hanging in strings between them. His cock pulsed in his fist, slick and dripping. Tommy’s chest rose sharp, teetering on the edge but holding the moment, savoring it.
“Come here,” he murmured, already moving Danny’s smaller frame onto his back. Danny let him, pliant under his grip. Tommy hooked his arms under Danny’s knees and lifted, spreading him open, Danny’s calves resting over the breadth of his shoulders.
The shift bared everything, smooth skin, the soft curve of his glutes, and at the center, that tight, pink ring twitching under the heat of Tommy’s stare. Tommy’s breath caught; his chest rose hard.
“Fuck…” His voice was thick with awe. “Sweet pink anus. Perfect.”
He leaned down, lips grazing the soft flesh at the inside of Danny’s thigh, kissing slow, deliberate, then another closer to the cleft. His mouth found the pale skin at the edge of the trench and lingered there, kissing, sucking lightly, before finally pressing his lips to the core itself.
A soft, reverent kiss. Then another. Then another.
“Tommy loves Danny’s sweet pink anus.”
His mouth sealed over the center, tongue pushing wet and eager. His breath came rough, hot against Danny’s skin. He buried his face deeper, nose pressed into the trench, tongue working messy circles, then spearing in shallow, quick thrusts. Spit pooled, dripping from his mouth down between Danny’s cheeks.
Danny’s fists knotted in the sheets, thighs trembling on Tommy’s shoulders.
Tommy groaned into him, hungry, his tongue relentless. He spread Danny wider and spit directly onto the twitching ring, watching it glisten before smearing it in with his mouth. Licking, sucking, biting lightly at the rim, coating him in heat and spit until everything was slick, dripping, open.
“Your anus… your primary sexual organ.” He kissed it, hard, sloppy. “That’s what this is. Your primary sexual organ.”
His tongue pressed back in, working the rim until Danny writhed against the sheets, then pulled free with a wet sound. His breath hitched as he said it again, almost reverent, almost drunk on it.
“Primary sexual organ… right here. Not your cock. Not anything else. This.”
He spat, spread the cheeks wider, and mouthed at it again, groaning into the mess. His babble broke as he circled the rim with his tongue.
“I love it. I love your anus. I love your primary sexual organ.”
Tommy kept the thick crown pressed firm against the slick rim, just enough to stretch it, not enough to breach. His cock pulsed there, leaking, grinding slow circles over the twitching pink.
Danny’s voice came out ragged, muffled into the sheets.
“I want it.”
Tommy’s hand tightened around his thigh, holding him wide. His breath hissed through his teeth.
“You want what?” He rolled his hips, the head dragging across the wet star.
Danny swallowed, face burning.
“I want your primary sexual organ.”
Tommy groaned, eyes locked on the way the ring fluttered under the blunt pressure.
“Say it again.”
Danny gasped, hips twitching as the head pressed harder.
“I want your primary sexual organ.”
Tommy ground forward, smearing spit and slick over the hole, making Danny whimper.
“Louder.”
Danny’s voice cracked, desperate now.
“I want your primary sexual organ inside my primary sexual organ.”
Tommy’s cock jerked at the words, his whole body trembling as he hovered there, still not giving in. His grip spread Danny even wider, his voice breaking low and rough.
“Fuck, that’s it. Say it again while I press it right here.”
Tommy held himself steady at the rim, the swollen crown spreading Danny’s twitching pink star, spit gleaming where their bodies met. His cock throbbed against the tight resistance, every nerve screaming to push through.
Danny’s voice shook, breaking out muffled against the sheets.
“I want your primary sexual organ inside my primary sexual organ.”
Tommy groaned, hips grinding harder, just shy of breaching.
“Again.”
Danny gasped, body arching, the cage dripping against his stomach.
“I want your primary sexual organ inside my primary sexual organ.”
The words spilled, faster now, desperate with each repetition.
“I want it inside me. I want your primary sexual organ inside my primary sexual organ.”
Tommy’s jaw clenched, sweat slicking his chest as he pressed harder, the blunt head dimpling the pink ring to its limit. His voice dropped to a growl, rough with restraint.
“One more time.”
Danny’s cry cracked, torn from his throat.
“I want your primary sexual organ inside my primary sexual organ!”
That broke Tommy. With a guttural groan, he drove forward, the crown pushing past the tight resistance. Danny’s body seized around him, anus gripping hard as the thick head slipped through.
“Fuck—” Tommy’s voice shattered, half worship, half growl. “Primary to primary. Just like that.”
Danny writhed under him, gasping, every muscle taut, his hole stretched wide around the invading heat. And Tommy pressed deeper, slow but unstoppable, words tumbling ragged between his groans.
“Inside you now. My primary sexual organ inside your primary sexual organ. Perfect. Fucking perfect.”
Tommy pushed deeper, inch by inch, the thick shaft forcing Danny’s pink star wider, slow and relentless. Spit smeared, stretched, then gave way as the hot length sank into him.
Danny clawed at the sheets, body shuddering. A broken sound tore out of him, half gasp, half groan. His cage throbbed against his stomach, dripping helplessly.
Tommy’s chest heaved as he watched the way Danny’s anus stretched around him, swallowing him down. His voice came out low, shaking with awe.
“Fuck… look at you. Taking me. My primary sexual organ inside your primary sexual organ.”
He rocked forward, deeper still, until the thickest part of the head popped through and the tight ring clenched behind it. Danny cried out, his body seizing around the intrusion.
Tommy bent over him, his sweat-slick chest brushing Danny’s back, his words rough in his ear.
“You’re perfect. You grip me so tight. Your primary sexual organ was made for mine.”
He withdrew slightly, then pressed forward again, working Danny open with steady thrusts, groaning every time the ring pulled at his shaft.
“Every squeeze—God, it’s your body begging me to stay. Primary to primary. You’re giving me everything.”
Danny’s face was buried in the mattress, muffled cries spilling out as his hole clung desperately to the thick invader.
Tommy’s pace grew stronger, hips snapping now, the heavy slap of his balls echoing against Danny’s smooth cheeks. His voice kept tumbling, unbroken, a chant of obsession.
“My primary sexual organ inside yours. Over and over. So fucking perfect.”
He looked down, watching the slick stretch each time he pulled out and drove back in. His jaw locked, teeth gritted, every muscle flexed.
Danny sobbed into the sheets, body shaking, his locked cock leaking freely. Tommy groaned deep, his thrusts harder now, sweat dripping down his chest onto Danny’s trembling back.
“This is it. This is all we are. My primary sexual organ driving into your primary sexual organ. Nothing else matters.”
Tommy’s thrusts grew harder, sharper, his cock driving deep into Danny’s stretched pink star. Each withdrawal showed the tight ring clinging, shining with spit and sweat, before he buried himself again. His voice was ragged now, but the words never stopped.
“My primary sexual organ… inside yours. Over and over. Tight, perfect, made for me.”
His pace faltered, grew erratic, his whole body tensing, balls slapping heavy against Danny’s ass. He ground deep, cock pulsing inside the tight heat.
“Fuck—Danny—my primary sexual organ’s about to unload—”
He slammed forward one last time, buried to the hilt, and his body seized. The first hot spurt hit, thick and heavy, flooding Danny’s stretched hole. Tommy groaned into his ear, words tumbling out between gasps.
“My sperm—filling you—pouring out of my primary sexual organ into yours. All of it—into your anus—your primary sexual organ taking every drop.”
His cock jerked again and again, each spasm forcing more out, hot ropes spilling deep. His voice broke with the force of it, sweat dripping onto Danny’s shivering skin.
“God, yes… your anus is swallowing it—taking my sperm—taking all of me. This is what it’s for. My primary sexual organ emptying into your primary sexual organ.”
Danny moaned helplessly, his body shaking as his locked cock leaked, while Tommy stayed buried deep, pumping the last of his load into the tight clutch of his hole.
Tommy collapsed over him, still muttering, still lost in the rhythm of obsession.
“Perfect… your anus… your primary sexual organ… full of my sperm.”
Tommy stayed buried inside him, chest heaving against Danny’s back. His cock softened slowly, still pulsing in the tight heat of Danny’s ass, but he didn’t move. He just held him, big arms banded around his chest, lips brushing sweat and hair at the nape of his neck.
After a long silence, Tommy’s voice came out rough, almost like he was talking to himself.
“You know why this works? Why I can… why I want it?” He pressed his hips forward, grinding the last of his release deeper, groaning low. “It’s your cage. That’s what makes this different.”
“I’ll be honest, I never really cared about your cock. Never thought about it. So when you first pulled out that cage, I figured… hell, if you wanna lock it up, that’s on you. Didn’t mean anything to me.”
His hand slid down Danny’s belly, fingers brushing the cool steel where it pressed between them. He rubbed slow circles, feeling the twitch beneath.
“But then I saw you in it. Really saw it. That your cock was literally locked away. That everything about you was right here,” he pushed deeper inside Danny, groaning low, “in this tight, perfect ass.”
He kissed Danny’s shoulder, soft, lingering. “You don’t get to fuck me. You don’t even get to use your cock. It’s locked up. That’s fucking dedication. Like my big cock matters to you. You can’t make that kind of sacrifice if you never had it. That’s what makes it so special.”
Tommy groaned again, lips pressed hard to the back of Danny’s neck. “No girl can give me this. No girl can keep me hard like this. No girl can take me the way you do, locked up and hungry, crying for it.”
He nuzzled into Danny’s damp hair, whispering softer now, almost tender.
“That’s why I can’t stop. That’s why I need you like this.”
He pressed his hips forward, groaning low as he ground deeper, still buried in the tight heat.
“That’s what this is. You locked up, hole open for me. It makes me feel like I’m everything.”
Tommy kissed the back of Danny’s neck, tender but firm, as if staking a claim.
“No one ever made me feel that way. But you do. Every damn time.”
Tommy stayed draped over him a few more heartbeats, chest rising and falling against Danny’s back, soft now inside him but still thick and warm, his hand splayed across Danny’s caged stomach like he could keep him pinned there forever. His breathing slowed, turned steady.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he began to shift. He pulled out slow, a wet slide that left Danny trembling, then eased Danny’s legs off his shoulders, setting them gently back on the mattress. He kissed the back of Danny’s neck one more time, a soft press of lips against damp skin, then rolled away.
The bed lifted with his weight. The air changed: cooler, emptier. Tommy padded around the room without a word, gathering his clothes. Danny kept his face turned into the pillow, eyes half-lidded, listening to the soft sounds of fabric, the zipper, the faint creak of floorboards.
At the door Tommy hesitated. For a moment Danny thought he might turn back, might say something. Instead Tommy just looked at him, at the pale, smooth body sprawled on the sheets, the glint of chrome between his thighs and gave a small, unreadable smile. He murmured something low, almost a sigh, and then the door clicked shut behind him.
The room smelled like Tommy, sweat, metal, skin. He lay on his stomach, the cage cold against his thigh, the sheets still damp. Dalton hadn’t needed any of this, the rituals, the words, the rules. Dalton had just looked at him and touched him. No pretending it was science or loyalty or anything else. With Tommy everything required a reason; with Dalton, it had just been real. Danny shut his eyes, breath catching once before it steadied, a slow warmth running down through his chest.
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