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Chapter 8 The silence in the living room was a physical thing, thick and swollen, after Jared’s footsteps faded toward the kitchen. The only sound was the faint hum of the freezer door opening and closing. Jordan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, the aftermath of their explosive encounter still tingling across his skin. He turned to make a comment to Blake, some stupid joke to break the weird, post-nut tension, but the words died in his throat. Blake was already looking at him. Not just looking. Staring. His dark eyes were locked on Jordan’s, wide and unblinking, stripped of all the easygoing confidence from moments before. They were full of a raw, hungry intensity that sent a primal jolt straight to Jordan’s core. Before Jordan could process it, before he could form a single thought, Blake was moving. He surged forward, his hand cupping the back of Jordan’s neck, and slammed their mouths together. It wasn’t like the sloppy, nervous kisses from their group session. This was different. This was singular. Focused. Blake’s lips were insistent, possessive, his tongue sweeping into Jordan’s mouth with a desperate urgency that tasted of sweat and then a muffled sound of surprise was swallowed by the kiss. Jordan’s hands came up, not to push him away, but to grip his biceps, his fingers digging into the solid muscle there as his mind spun. After a few stunned seconds, Jordan managed to turn his head, breaking the seal of their mouths. He was breathing hard, his own lips tingling. “Whoa. Whoa, hold on,” he panted. “Where did that come from, man? I thought… I thought you were straight. After all that, I thought…” Blake didn’t pull back far. His forehead rested against Jordan’s, his breath hot on Jordan’s lips. His voice was a low, ragged whisper, the confession tumbling out in a rush. “I am. I am straight. I only ever have feelings for women. But I like to mess around with guys. It’s just… a thing. A physical thing.” He paused, his grip on Jordan’s neck tightening almost imperceptibly. “But when I realized it was you… when I saw it was you on your knees for me that first time… fuck, Jordan.” He pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, his gaze burning with a years-long secret finally seeing the light. “All those times in the gym. During practices. In the locker room, changing, showering… I’d watch you. Bro, I watched you all the time. I had no fucking clue what it meant, I just knew it made me hard. Made me crazy.” Jordan’s heart was hammering against his ribs. He could only stare, captivated, as Blake laid himself bare. “So many times,” Blake continued, his voice dropping even lower, becoming almost confessional. “I’d go home after practice, after seeing the water run down your chest in the showers, the way your muscles flexed when you pulled your shirt off… sometimes I wouldn’t even make it all the way home. I’d have to pull my truck over on a back road because I couldn’t fucking take it anymore.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing Jordan’s ear, his words a hot, shocking caress. “I’d sit there in the driver’s seat and stroke my dick raw thinking about you. Wondering how your skin would taste under my tongue. How your precum would taste, clean and salty. How your lips would feel on mine. I’d even… fuck, this is so messed up… I’d sniff my own jockstrap after a practice, the one that had been soaked with my sweat right next to yours, and it would give me the most intense orgasms I’d ever had. I was mesmerized by you, Jordan. Your body. Your smell. You.” The confession hung in the air, obscene and flattering and terrifying all at once. A warmth, entirely separate from the heat of arousal, spread through Jordan’s chest. To be wanted like that, so desperately and for so long, was a powerful, heady drug. His own cock, spent just minutes ago, gave a interested, traitorous twitch against his thigh. But his mind, cutting through the haze of lust and surprise, threw up a red flag. A big one. Jared. Jared was all he wanted. This thing with Blake… it was intense, it was filthy and hot, but it was just physical. It had to be. Jared was his heart. He opened his mouth, unsure what he was even going to say—a thank you, a rejection, a question—when the creak of the kitchen door hinge cut through the thick silence. Both of their heads snapped toward the sound. Jared stood frozen in the doorway, a baking sheet of frozen wings in one oven-mitted hand. His eyes took in the scene in a single, sweeping glance: Jordan and Blake, faces inches apart, their body language intimate, charged, their breathing still uneven. His expression flickered, a rapid-fire shift from casual expectation to sharp, perceptive curiosity. His gaze dropped, lingering for a fraction of a second on the obvious, renewed bulge tenting the front of Jordan’s athletic shorts, then flicked to Blake’s similarly strained jeans. A slow, knowing, confident smirk spread across Jared’s face. It wasn’t angry. It wasn’t jealous. It was utterly, wickedly turned on. He tossed the baking sheet onto the coffee table with a loud clatter, never breaking eye contact with them. “Well,” he drawled, his voice a low, husky thing that vibrated through the room. "Now, time for the main course." Jordan pulled away abruptly, his chest tight with an unplaceable guilt. Blake took a step back, his face flushed and his breathing still heavy. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact. “I think… I should go,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between shame and desire. Jared blinked, confusion flickering across his face as the charged atmosphere in the room dissolved into awkward tension. “Wait, what’s going on?” he asked, glancing between the two of them. Blake shook his head, grabbing his jacket from the couch. “Nothing. Just… I’ll see you guys later.” Without another word, he headed for the door, leaving Jordan and Jared alone. Jordan exhaled shakily, running a hand over his face. “He… he told me something,” he admitted, looking at Jared. “About how he’s felt about me for a long time. Like, years. It just… caught me off guard.” Jared’s eyebrows lifted, but his expression softened as he stepped closer. “Damn. That’s… intense. Poor guy.” “Yeah,” Jordan agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I feel kind of bad for him. But… I don’t know, it’s not like I did anything wrong, right?” Jared chuckled softly, closing the distance between them. He placed a reassuring hand on Jordan’s shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “Hey, don’t overthink it. You didn’t lead him on or anything. It’s not your fault he’s been harboring all that.” Jordan sighed, leaning into Jared’s touch. “I know. It’s just… weird.” Jared smirked, his confidence returning as he tilted Jordan’s chin up to meet his gaze. “You know what’s not weird? Us. I’m not threatened by Blake or his confession. I know where we stand, Jord. You’re mine, and I’m yours. End of story.” Jordan felt a warmth spread through him, his guilt melting away under Jared’s unwavering certainty. He smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah. You’re right.” Jared’s smirk widened, and he leaned in, brushing their lips together in a soft, reassuring kiss. “Always am. Now, let’s forget about Blake and focus on us. Because honestly? This whole thing just made me want you even more.” Jordan laughed softly, the tension finally breaking as he wrapped his arms around Jared. “You’re insatiable.” “And you love it,” Jared shot back, his voice low and playful before capturing Jordan’s lips again, sealing away any lingering doubts.

I don’t think it’s my responsibility to inform a slutty bottom of my status if not asked. And I’m clear about no condoms. im not particularly in to the act cuz i like it when the bottom begs for my load. i think its worse morally to allow people to create accounts here and on NKP where they ask to use a condom.

Chapter 7 The humid late-summer air clung to the walls of Jordan’s living room, thick with the promise of a storm and the lingering ghost of their last encounter. When Blake finally texted—On my way—the energy between Jared and Jordan shifted from anticipatory to electric. They’d spent the last month exploring every inch of each other, their bodies becoming a familiar map of pleasure, but this… this was a new frontier. Blake arrived with the scent of rain and cheap beer on his breath, his movements a little looser, his smile a little less guarded. “Family reunion,” he explained with a lopsided grin, dropping onto the sectional. “My uncle’s homebrew is lethal.” They made small talk, the kind that felt like dancing on the edge of a cliff. College was a week away for Jared and Jordan, a fact that lent a desperate, now-or-never energy to the evening. Blake talked about his mechanic classes at the community college, his eyes constantly flicking to the dark TV screen. Finally, he couldn’t wait any longer. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked directly at Jared. “So. Are we gonna watch me get my dick sucked again or not?” The code was clear. Hell yes, I want to be here. Hell yes, I want to jerk my cock with you two. Jared’s answering smile was all predator. “Thought you’d never ask.” He grabbed the remote, and a moment later, the screen bloomed with the familiar image of Blake’s unfastened jeans. The three of them sat side-by-side, a row of tense, buzzing masculinity. Hands drifted to laps, palming growing bulges through denim and athletic shorts. On screen, Jordan’s recorded voice, soft and sure, said, “Stand up.” Jared turned his head, his lips close to Jordan’s ear. His voice was a low, hungry murmur meant only for him. “I’m so horny. I want you to fuck me. Right now.” The words were a lightning strike. Jordan’s cock jerked to full, aching attention. He glanced at Blake, who was staring at the TV, his hand stilling on his own dick. Blake’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape. He was caught off guard, but he wasn’t looking away. “Y’all do what you want,” Blake breathed, his voice raspy. “I’m just here to watch me and stroke me.” But his protest was weak, his gaze already sliding from the screen to the two of them. It was all the permission they needed. Jordan stood, pulling Jared up with him. They didn’t go to a bedroom. They did it right there on the rug in front of the couch, in the flickering blue light of Blake’s own blissed-out face. Clothes were shoved out of the way. Jared got on his hands and knees, presenting himself to Jordan, his ass a pale, perfect curve in the dim light. Jordan knelt behind him, spitting into his hand once, twice, slicking his own hard length before guiding himself to Jared’s entrance. He pushed in with one smooth, relentless thrust, burying himself to the hilt in the tight, familiar heat. Jared gasped, a sharp, gratifying sound, and pushed back against him. “Fuck, yes… God, you feel good.” The rhythm started slow, a deep, rocking motion that made Jared’s back arch. Jordan kept his eyes locked on Blake, who was no longer even pretending to watch the TV. His hand was motionless on his cock, his beer-flushed face a mask of stunned, rapt arousal. He was watching Jordan’s hips piston forward, watching the way Jared’s body yielded and took him. “So good,” Jordan groaned, his voice thick with effort and desire. He was talking to Blake now, narrating the show. “His hole is so fucking tight… so hot inside. Clenching on my cock like he doesn’t want to let go.” Blake made a small, choked sound in the back of his throat. “You should see it,” Jordan continued, driving into Jared with a little more force, making him moan. “See how he opens up for me. How wet he is for it.” On the TV, the recorded Blake was moaning, “Deeper…!” In the room, the real Blake was breathing in shallow pants, his cock visibly straining against his jeans. Jared, lost in the sensation, turned his head, his cheek pressed against the rug. His eyes, glazed with pleasure, found Blake’s. “You wanna try it?” he panted, the question a bold, filthy challenge. “Wanna see how it feels?” Blake froze. Conflict warred on his face—straight-guy denial battling against a curiosity that had been simmering since his first mind-blowing orgasm in this very room. His eyes dropped to where Jordan’s cock disappeared into Jared, watching the slick, rhythmic motion. He saw the way Jared’s rim stretched, glistening. His resistance crumbled. Without a word, Blake stood up. He fumbled with his belt, his fingers clumsy, and shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, fully erect, thick and curving upwards. He knelt behind Jared, his movements hesitant but determined. He placed a trembling hand on Jared’s hip, his touch hot. Jordan pulled out slowly, his own breath catching at the sight he revealed: Jared’s hole, pink and well-fucked, gaping slightly, glistening with spit. Blake stared at it, his expression one of pure, primal hunger. He touched the tip of his cock to the wetness, a questioning pressure. Jared pushed back against him, a silent, eager answer. Blake’s eyes squeezed shut for a second, as if in prayer, and then he pushed forward. He slid in, the tight ring of muscle yielding to him, sucking him inward until he was fully sheathed. A guttural, involuntary groan was torn from his chest—a sound of such profound, unexpected pleasure it seemed to shock him. His eyes flew open, wide with disbelief. “Oh my god,” he whispered, his hips giving a tentative, shallow thrust. “It’s… fuck…” Jordan watched, mesmerized. The sight of his best friend being filled by another man, by Blake, was the most potent aphrodisiac he’d ever experienced. He was hard again, aching to be back inside that warm, shared space. They found a rhythm, a shaky, unspoken choreography. Jordan would slide in, fucking Jared with deep, claiming strokes until he was close to the edge, then pull out, letting Blake take his place. Blake’s initial hesitance vanished, replaced by a raw, greedy hunger. He fucked into Jared with growing confidence, his muscular thighs driving him forward, his hands gripping Jared’s hips tight enough to leave bruises. The room filled with the lewd symphony of their bodies: the slap of skin on skin, Jared’s ragged moans, Blake’s deep, grunting breaths, and Jordan’s own desperate panting. The air grew thick with the musky scent of sweat and sex. Blake was the first to break. His rhythm stuttered, became frantic. “I’m gonna… I can’t… I’m gonna cum!” he warn them, his voice strained. He buried himself as deep as he could, his body locking up. A series of raw, guttural cries were punched from his lungs as he came, his release pumping into Jared in hot, pulsing jets. He held himself there for a long moment, trembling, before collapsing forward, slipping out. Jordan was there instantly. He didn’t wait. He guided his own slick cock back to Jared’s well-used hole, now dripping with Blake’s release. The feeling was incredible—slick, warm, and impossibly intimate. He pushed in, fucking Blake’s cum deeper into Jared, the wet, sloppy sounds pushing him toward his own climax instantly. “Yeah, fuck his load into me,” Jared begged, his voice wrecked. “Fill me up, Jordan. Come on!” It was all he needed. With a cry that was half-sob, half-triumph, Jordan came, his own orgasm crashing over him. He pulsed inside Jared, adding his seed to Blake’s, his vision whiting out at the intensity of the shared possession. Spent, Jordan pulled out, and they all stayed like that for a second, panting in the aftermath: Jared on his hands and knees, Blake kneeling behind him, Jordan beside them. Then Jared moved. He rolled onto his back, his stomach and chest glistening with sweat, his cock still hard and leaking. His hole, a wet, spent mess, was exposed. He looked up at Blake, his eyes dark with a deviant spark. “Sit on my face,” Jared demanded, his voice hoarse. “I want to taste you both while I finish.” Blake’s eyes widened, but the hesitation was gone. A slow, dirty smile spread across his face. He shifted, kneeling over Jared’s head, and lowered himself. Jared’s tongue snaked out, lapping at cum leaking from Blake’s softening cock, then lower, tasting Blake's sweet musty hole. This was the final trigger. Jared’s hand flew to his own dick, stroking furiously. With a choked gasp, he came, his release shooting up onto his own chest in thick, pearly strands, his body shuddering through the waves of pleasure. Complete silence fell, broken only by the ragged sound of three sets of lungs struggling for air. Blake finally moved, shifting off of Jared and collapsing onto the rug beside him. He looked at the ceiling, then turned his head, his gaze traveling over their sticky, exhausted forms. A laugh bubbled out of him—a low, incredulous sound. “You guys,” he said, shaking his head in sheer wonder. “You guys are fucking filthy, dirty perverts.” He paused, letting the words hang in the sex-heavy air. Then he grinned, wide and genuine. “I fucking love it.”

Chapter 6 Blake stared at the phone in Jared’s hand, his cum-dazed expression sharpening into something more focused, more curious. The silence stretched, thick with the scent of sex and the fading adrenaline of what had just happened. He slowly pulled his jeans up over his hips but didn’t bother to fasten them, the denim hanging open, framing his softening cock. “Did you… did you like it?” Blake asked, his voice quieter now, less of the performative straight guy and more genuinely himself. “Sucking my dick, I mean.” Jordan, still kneeling on the rug, wiped his chin with the back of his hand and nodded. “Yeah, man. A lot.” Blake’s eyes flicked to Jared. “And you? You liked watching it?” A slow, wicked grin spread across Jared’s face. “Loved it.” He held up the phone, the screen now dark. “Got the whole thing right here.” Blake swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked from the phone to the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. “What are you gonna do with it?” Jared’s grin didn’t falter. “Just for me. I’ll jerk off watching it later.” The words seemed to hit Blake like a physical touch. A visible shiver ran through him, and Jordan saw the faintest twitch in Blake’s loose-hanging cock. He’s getting hard again, Jordan thought, his own body responding instantly to the possibility. “Let’s watch it then,” Blake said, the suggestion tumbling out in a rush. “Right now. So you can jack off.” Jared didn’t hesitate. He was already moving, fumbling with his phone before finding the casting icon. A second later, the TV screen blinked to life, displaying the same video thumbnail from his phone. The room was suddenly illuminated by the cold, blue light of the menu screen. “Sit,” Blake commanded, his voice gaining a new layer of confidence as he pointed to the large sectional couch. He positioned himself squarely in the middle, a king on his newfound throne. Jared sat to his right, Jordan to his left. Jared tapped ‘play’. The video began with a shaky, close-up shot of Blake’s jeans. The audio picked up Jordan’s voice, soft and coaxing. “Stand up.” On screen, Blake’s hands fumbled with his button, then his zipper. The sound was obscenely loud through the surround sound speakers. “Now,” Blake said, his eyes glued to the screen, his own image now kneeling before him. “Take your clothes off. Both of you. And jack off for me.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order, and it sent a jolt of pure, submissive heat straight to Jordan’s core. He and Jared locked eyes for a split second, a silent, eager agreement passing between them. They scrambled to comply, their movements frantic. T-shirts were pulled over heads and tossed aside. Jeans and boxers were shoved down legs and kicked into a pile on the floor. Within seconds, they were both naked again, their cocks already swelling back to full, aching hardness. The room filled with the soft, slick sounds of their hands on their own flesh. On the TV, the video-Jared took the video-Jordan took Blake into his mouth for the first time, and a low, guttural moan echoed from both the speakers and the real Blake sitting between them. “Fuck,” Blake breathed, his own hand snaking into his open jeans. He wrapped his fingers around his own dick, giving it a slow, tentative stroke. He was getting hard again, his thickness filling out beautifully in his grasp. The sight of it—the three of them, all stroking themselves, all watching themselves—was the most surreal, erotic thing Blake had ever experienced. His eyes darted between the two other cocks. Jared’s, thick and cut, his hands gliding smoothly over the glistening head with each long pull. And Blake’s, curving up, his grip firm and sure. Jordan matched his rhythm to theirs, his own hand a tight fist around his six inches, his thumb smearing the fresh bead of precum that had already formed over his slit. The video played on, a lewd symphony of wet sounds and ragged breathing. The camera angle shifted as Jared had moved, now capturing the perfect profile of Jordan’s head bobbing in Blake’s lap, the look of utter ecstasy on Blake’s face. “Look at you,” Blake murmured, his voice husky as he stared at the screen. His stroking became more purposeful. “Look how deep you take it. God, your mouth…” Jordan couldn’t look away from the TV. Seeing himself like that, seeing the sheer skill and hunger in his own performance, was a bizarre and powerful turn-on. He watched his own throat work, heard his own gagging sounds turn into moans of approval. He was fucking himself with his own hand in time with the memory, his hips pumping into his fist. “I’m getting close,” Jared groaned from the other side of Blake, his strokes becoming shorter, more frantic. “The way you two look together… fuck…” On screen, the video was reaching its climax. Blake’s back was arching, his hands were gripping the couch cushions. Jordan’s own recorded voice was a muffled, desperate sound around a mouthful of cock. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna…” Blake’s on-screen voice cried out, a broken plea. The real Blake’s breath hitched. “Me too,” he gasped, his hand a blur on his own shaft now. “Now. Do it now.” It was the trigger. The permission. The shared energy in the room crested and broke. Jordan came first. With a choked cry, his body seized. His cock jerked violently in his hand, and the first thick rope of cum shot across his stomach, landing just above his navel. A second pulse followed, then a third, painting his skin with warm, white stripes. The sight and sound of him was the final push for the other two. On the TV, Blake’s orgasm hit, his body bowing in silent, ecstatic release. In the living room, the real Blake’s orgasm mirrored it perfectly. His head slammed back against the couch cushion, his eyes squeezing shut as his cock erupted. Thick, pearly jets spurted from his tip, arcing through the air to land on his own stomach and chest, mixing with the sweat already there. Jared followed a heartbeat later, his own release a torrential, groaning affair. He came all over his own fist, his cum splattering onto his thighs and the couch cushion beneath him, his body trembling with the force of it. For a long moment, the only sounds were the three of them panting, the frantic stroking slowing to gentle, oversensitive caresses on their spent cocks. The video on the TV continued to play silently, showing the aftermath—the collapsed, blissed-out form of Blake's first blowjob from a guy. Blake was the first to speak, his voice wrecked and full of awe. “Play it again.”

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Such a fantasy of mine to be Drew! Can’t wait for more!

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