All Activity

Chapter 24 The silence in the house was wrong. It wasn’t the comfortable quiet of shared space; it was an empty, echoing void. Jordan dropped his duffel bag by the door, the thud unnaturally loud. “Guys? Jared? Blake?” No answer. A note on the kitchen counter, written in Jared’s sloppy scrawl, explained it: Went to the outlet mall for the weekend. Back Sunday night. Leftovers in the fridge. A weekend. They’d known he was coming home. They’d left anyway. A cold knot tightened in his stomach, something that felt a lot like suspicion. He tried to shake it off. They’re just shopping. It’s fine. He needed a distraction. He booted up his desktop, the familiar hum a small comfort. He’d check his messages, maybe watch some porn, take the edge off the long drive home. As the monitor flickered to life, a single folder sat open on the screen, its contents displayed in a grid of thumbnails. It wasn’t his. The folder was simply labeled “US.” Curiosity, that hungry little beast, nibbled at him. He clicked on the first video. It was Blake’s bedroom. The camera was propped up on a dresser. Jared and Blake were on the bed, not fucking, but… wrestling. It was playful, all laughing protests and tangled limbs. Jared pinned Blake, his body covering the smaller man’s. They were both shirtless, breathing heavily. The laughter died down. Jared’s gaze dropped to Blake’s lips. The air in the room on the screen seemed to change, to thicken. Jared leaned down, so slowly, and pressed his mouth to Blake’s. It wasn't a hookup kiss. It was deep, searching, tender. Jordan’s breath hitched. He clicked another. This one was in their living room, on the couch Jordan usually claimed. Jared was sitting, and Blake was straddling his lap, but they were fully clothed, just holding each other. Blake’s head was tucked under Jared’s chin, his eyes closed. Jared was whispering something, his lips moving against Blake’s hair, his large hand stroking slow, soothing circles on Blake’s back. The look on Jared’s face—it was a look of such profound, peaceful possession that it made Jordan’s chest ache. It was a look Jordan had never seen him give anyone, not even during their most intense threesomes. He opened video after video. They weren’t just sex tapes. They were love letters. There were slow, passionate fuckings where they stared into each other’s eyes the entire time, whispering things the microphone couldn’t pick up. There were moments of pure domestic intimacy—cooking together in just their boxers, sharing a joint on the back patio, Blake tracing the lines of Jared’s tattoos while they watched a movie. The travelling for work… leaving them together so much… It hadn’t brought them all closer. It had split them. It had created a dyad, a unit of two that deliberately excluded the third. And they were hiding it. They hadn’t said a word. A hot, acidic jealousy boiled up in his throat, followed immediately by a cold, numbing sense of loss. He closed the folder. He wouldn’t confront them. Not yet. He just sat there in the darkening room, the ghost of their stolen moments playing on a loop behind his eyes. * The next six weeks on the road were a blur of diesel fumes, hotel rooms, and Chad. The discovery at home became a secret fuel, a dark energy Jordan poured into his… whatever this was with his coworker. The mutual jerk-off sessions in the truck became a daily ritual, a necessary release. Then the kissing started—clumsy at first, then hungry, desperate, all teeth and tongue against the door of another anonymous hotel room. Then came the night Chad, his breath hot against Jordan’s neck, his thick cock pressed insistently against Jordan’s thigh, growled the words. “I wanna fuck you, Jordan. For real. I need to feel what it’s like to be inside you.” The proposition should have been terrifying. But all Jordan felt was a thrilling, dizzying surge of power. Yes. This was what he needed. To be claimed. To be filled. To forget everything else. “Okay,” Jordan breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Okay. Do it.” They stumbled toward Chad’s bed, a tangle of frantic hands and searching mouths. Clothes were torn away, landing in heap on the cheap carpet. Chad’s hands were everywhere—gripping his ass, palming his chest, cupping his jaw as he plundered his mouth. Jordan let himself be manhandled, his own arousal spiking with every rough, possessive touch. Chad broke the kiss, his dark eyes blazing with a intensity that made Jordan’s knees weak. “Turn over. On your knees.” The command sent a shiver of pure submission through him. He obeyed, scrambling onto the mattress, presenting himself. He heard the rip of a foil packet, the slick sound of lube. His heart hammered against his ribs. This is happening. He’s really going to do it. He felt the blunt, wet head of Chad’s cock press against him. It was so much bigger than a finger, an impossible pressure. He tensed, a involuntary gasp caught in his throat. “Relax for me, man,” Chad murmured, his voice surprisingly gentle despite its rough texture. One of his big, calloused hands stroked down Jordan’s spine, a calming gesture that was at odds with the situation. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.” Jordan forced air into his lungs, willing his body to soften, to accept. He focused on the feeling of Chad’s hand on his back, the solid warmth of his body looming over him. Then Chad pushed. It was a slow, inexorable invasion, a stretch that bordered on pain before it melted into a feeling of being utterly, completely full. A broken moan was torn from Jordan’s throat. “Fuck… Chad…” “Jesus, Jordan,” Chad groaned above him, his voice strained. His hips stilled, buried to the hilt. “You’re so fucking tight. So hot inside.” He leaned over, blanketing Jordan’s body with his own, his chest pressed against Jordan’s back. His beard scraped against Jordan’s shoulder as he spoke. “You like that? I'm so deep in you?” Jordan could only nod, his face pressed into the scratchy hotel pillow. He was overwhelmed by the sensation, by the sheer physicality of it. Every slight shift of Chad’s hips sent sparks shooting through his nerves. Chad began to move, a slow, shallow rocking that gradually built into deeper, more confident thrusts. The initial burn was gone, replaced by a building, coiling pleasure that started deep in his core. Each thrust rubbed his prostate, a direct, electric shock that made his own dick, hard and leaking against his stomach, jump and twitch. Chad’s rhythm was punishing, powerful, each drive of his hips slamming Jordan forward with a grunt. “Yeah, take this dick,” Chad grunted, his hands gripping Jordan’s hips hard, surely leaving bruises. “Take it all. You love this, don’t you? Love getting fucked like this.” “Yes,” Jordan moaned, the word mangled. “Fuuuck, yes…” He was losing himself, his mind going blank white with pleasure. This was nothing like being with Jared and Blake. This was raw, primal, singular. There was no audience, no performance. It was just this: the smell of their sweat, the sound of skin slapping against skin, the brutal, perfect friction of Chad’s thick cock stretching him open. Chad’s pace became frantic, his breathing ragged in Jordan’s ear. “You're gonna make me cum, man. I'm gonna fill you up.” The promise, so filthy and direct, was what sent Jordan spiraling over the edge. His orgasm ripped through him with a silent, violent intensity, his cum striping the bedspread beneath him in hot, pulsing jets. His body clenched tightly around Chad, milking him. With a guttural roar, Chad buried himself as deep as he could go. Jordan felt the hot, throbbing pulse of his release through the latex, a final, claiming heat flooding inside him. Chad collapsed on top of him, his full weight pressing Jordan into the mattress, both of them spent and gasping for air. After a long moment, Chad softened and slipped out. He rolled off, disposing of the condom before lying back down, an arm thrown over his eyes. The silence stretched, thick and heavy. Finally, Chad spoke, his voice rough and low. “That was…” Jordan held his breath. “…fuckin’ insane.” Chad turned his head on the pillow, looking at Jordan with a dazed, sated expression that was entirely new. “We are definitely doing that again.” Jordan looks at Chad with smiling eyes. "You're turn!" Chapter 25 The humid, grimy air of the shipyard clung to them like a second skin. Every clang of metal, every shouted command, was just background noise to the secret dance unfolding between them. Jordan would be tightening a bolt, and he’d glance over to see Chad bent over a crate, his loose work pants offering a deliberate, fleeting glimpse of his heavy balls and soft, thick dick. The sight sent a jolt straight to Jordan’s core, his own cock swelling instantly against the rough denim of his jeans. Chad would catch his look and straighten up, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips beneath the shadow of his hard hat. He’d adjust himself with a casual, almost arrogant grab, making the substantial weight of his package unmistakable. No words were needed. The entire day was a silent, sweaty preamble, a steady crescendo of shared, illicit heat that left them both aching and distracted. Back at the hotel, the shower was a necessary purging of the day’s grit, but also an extension of the tease. The water sluiced over Chad’s tattooed shoulders, and Jordan’s eyes traced the paths it took, his soapy hands moving over his own body with a possessiveness he knew Chad was watching. They toweled off in the steamy bathroom, the thick terrycloth doing little to hide their renewed, half-hard interest. Dinner was a blur of shared plates and easy laughter. Chad was in peak form, his jokes coming quick and his smiles directed solely at Jordan. His touches became more frequent—a clap on the shoulder that lingered, a nudge of his knee under the table, a hand on Jordan’s forearm to emphasize a point. Each point of contact was a brand. Jordan sipped his beer, watching Chad’s animated face. This guy says he’s straight, he thought, the familiar internal refrain taking on a new, hopeful edge. But the way he’s looking at me… the way he can’t keep his hands to himself… it feels like more. It feels like he has feelings for me. The idea was terrifying and electrifying. The walk back to their room was charged with a silent, humming anticipation. The second the hotel door clicked shut behind them, the careful pretense of the evening shattered. Chad didn’t say a word. He simply turned, his eyes dark and intense, and pushed Jordan back against the door. His mouth found Jordan’s in a deep, claiming kiss that tasted of beer and want. It wasn't tentative or questioning; it was desperate and sure. Their hands were everywhere, pulling at clothes, fumbling with buttons and zippers. A shirt was ripped over a head. A belt buckle clattered to the floor. “You said,” Chad breathed against his lips, his voice a rough, husky thing that vibrated through Jordan’s entire body. “You said it was my turn.” Jordan could only nod, his breath catching as Chad’s hands shoved his jeans and boxers down his thighs in one urgent motion. “I’m ready, Jordan,” Chad whispered, his forehead pressed to Jordan’s, his eyes squeezed shut as if gathering courage. “Fuck me. I want you inside me.” His hands gripped Jordan’s hips, his fingers pressing into the flesh. “But go slow. I’m tight. I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” The confession, so vulnerable and raw, snapped Jordan into a different headspace. The frantic energy morphed into something focused, tender. He cupped Chad’s face, forcing him to open his eyes. “Look at me. We’ll go as slow as you need. I’ve got you.” He led Chad to the bed, laying him back gently against the pillows. He took his time, worshiping the landscape of Chad’s body with his hands and mouth—the hard planes of his chest, the trail of hair leading down from his navel, the intricate ink on his powerful arms. He wanted Chad boneless and pliant, wanted every ounce of nervous tension replaced with pure, aching need. When he finally reached Chad’s cock, it was a testament to the man’s control. It stood thick and full against his stomach, the head dark and flushed, already glistening. Jordan leaned down, taking him into his mouth, using his tongue to lavish attention on the sensitive slit, savoring the sharp, salty taste of his pre-cum. Chad’s back arched off the bed, a broken groan tearing from his throat. “Fuck… Jordan… yes…” Jordan prepared him with a reverence he usually reserved for his own most private fantasies. He used his fingers, slick with lube from the nightstand, working him open with infinite patience, watching the play of agony and ecstasy on Chad’s face. He scissored him slowly, crooking his fingers, seeking out that bundle of nerves that made Chad’s entire body jolt and his eyes roll back in his head. “Please,” Chad begged, his voice ragged. “Now. I need you now. I’m ready.” Jordan positioned himself, kneeling between Chad’s spread legs. He guided the head of his own hard, leaking cock to Chad’s entrance. The pressure was immense, a tight, hot ring of muscle resisting him. He pushed, just an inch, and watched Chad’s face contort. “Breathe, baby,” Jordan murmured, stroking his thigh. “Just breathe through it.” Chad nodded, his jaw clenched, his eyes locked on Jordan’s. He let out a long, shaky exhale, and his body seemed to open, to yield. Jordan sank deeper, the sensation of being enveloped in such incredible, clenching heat stealing the air from his lungs. He pushed until he was fully sheathed, buried to the hilt, their bodies joined completely. For a moment, neither of them moved. They just stayed there, connected, breathing each other’s air. The only sound was their ragged panting. Chad’s eyes were wide, awestruck. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “You’re… you’re all the way in.” “Yeah,” Jordan breathed, the word a prayer. He leaned down, capturing Chad’s mouth in a slow, deep kiss as he began to move. It was a slow, rolling rhythm, a gentle fucking that was more about connection than conquest. Each withdrawal was a sweet agony, each thrust back in a homecoming. Jordan could feel every shudder, every clench of Chad’s body around him. He watched the emotions flicker across Chad’s face—the initial shock melting into dazed pleasure, then into something deeper, something awed and vulnerable. Chad’s hands came up, tangling in Jordan’s hair, pulling him down for another searing kiss. His legs wrapped around Jordan’s waist, locking him in place, pulling him even deeper. The pace gradually increased, the gentle rolls becoming more urgent, their hips meeting in a slick, rhythmic slap. “Harder,” Chad moaned into his mouth, his voice raw with need. “Please, Jordan… fuck me harder.” Jordan obeyed, driving into him with more force, each thrust punching a gasped “uhn” from Chad’s lips. The bed began to creak in protest. Jordan could feel his own climax coiling, a tight, hot spring in his belly. He reached between them, wrapping his hand around Chad’s leaking cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Chad cried out, a strangled, helpless sound. His body seized, clamping down on Jordan’s cock like a vise as his own release shot over Jordan’s fist and his stomach in hot, pulsing streaks. The intense, rhythmic squeezing was Jordan’s undoing. With a guttural groan, he buried himself as deep as he could go, his own orgasm erupting, flooding the condom with wave after wave of intense, shuddering release. He collapsed on top of Chad, spent, his face buried in the sweaty crook of his neck. They lay there for a long time, still joined, their hearts hammering against each other’s ribs, their breath slowly returning to normal. The air was thick with the musky, sweet scent of sex. Jordan finally shifted, softening and slipping out. He disposed of the condom and fell back onto the bed beside Chad. Without a word, Chad turned onto his side and curled into Jordan, throwing a heavy arm across his chest, his head pillowed on Jordan’s shoulder. Their skin was slick with sweat, cooling in the hotel’s AC. No one spoke. There were no jokes, no declarations, no analysis. There was just the sound of their synchronized breathing and the profound, speechless understanding vibrating in the space between them. They fell asleep like that, tangled together, covered in the evidence of what they’d shared. The world outside their door ceased to exist. There was only this.

Chapter 22 The silence was a living thing, thick and heavy with the scent of clean sweat and whiskey. Their eyes were locked, hands moving in a synchronized rhythm over their own cocks, the only sound their ragged breathing and the soft, wet friction of skin on skin. Chad’s gaze was dark, intense, a startling contrast to his earlier flustered embarrassment. He wasn't just watching; he was studying Jordan, his eyes tracing the path of Jordan’s fist, the way his thumb pressed against the swollen head on every upstroke. Jordan broke the stare first, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. He was in his element here, in the razor's edge between command and invitation. He knew what he wanted to see. He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed until his feet were planted firmly on the cheap hotel carpet. He faced Chad directly, their knees now just inches apart. He was giving Chad a show. He let his head fall back slightly, a quiet, breathy moan escaping his lips as he increased his pace. He focused on the sensation, on making it look as good as it felt. He watched himself through Chad’s eyes—the way his abs tightened with each stroke, the way his heavy balls drew up tight beneath his shaft. He was already leaking, a steady stream of clear precum beading at his slit and dripping down his length. He milked it, slowing his hand to let a fat, glistening pearl form at the tip. He held it there, letting Chad watch it swell, a tiny, trembling universe of his arousal. Then he let it fall, a single, hot drop tracing a path down his veined shaft until it landed on his balls with a soft, almost silent plop. He didn't wipe it away. He left it there, a wet, gleaming testament to how turned on he was. A low, guttural sound came from Chad’s bed. A moan of pure, unadulterated pleasure. Jordan’s eyes snapped up to meet his. Chad’s own hand had stilled, his fingers wrapped loosely around the base of his own impressive, thick cock. He was mesmerized. Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, Chad mirrored him. He sat up on the edge of his own bed, the movement bringing them even closer. Now their knees were touching, a point of electric contact in the dim room. The space between them vanished, their legs a bridge connecting their two worlds. They were two feet apart, maybe less, sitting across from each other, stroking for an audience of one. “Fuck,” Jordan whispered, his voice husky. “Feels so good. I love jerking my dick. Love how my hand fits around it.” Chad’s breath hitched. He gave a slow, jerky nod, his eyes glued to Jordan’s moving hand. “Yeah,” he breathed, the word barely audible. Emboldened, Jordan kept going, the dirty talk flowing easily. “Sometimes… fuck… sometimes I’ll pull it out somewhere I shouldn’t. In my truck in a parking lot. Behind the job site. Just to stroke it a few times. The risk… it makes me so fuckin’ hard.” Chad’s eyes widened, a spark of recognition and shared deviance flashing in them. “Holy shit,” he groaned, his hips giving a slight, involuntary thrust into his own fist. “Me too. Did it just last week behind a Home Depot. Thought for sure someone would see.” Their confessions hung in the air, thickening the tension. Their knees pressed tighter together. Then, almost imperceptibly, they both inched forward on their beds. The space between their cocks narrowed from a foot, to six inches, to nothing. Their thighs were touching now, hot skin against hot skin. Their erections, both slick with precum, were so close Jordan could feel the heat radiating from Chad’s. They both looked up at the exact same time. Their eyes met. The hunger in Chad’s gaze was a physical force. Jordan’s heart was hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of anticipation. The question was a whisper, torn from somewhere deep inside him. “Can I…?” He let his eyes flick down to Chad’s dick, then back up to hold his gaze. “Can I touch it?” Chad’s response was immediate. A sharp, almost pained inhale, then a quick, desperate nod. His hand fell away from his cock, letting it spring free. It stood at full, aching attention, thick and veined and beautifully hairy, the head flushed a light, pretty pink. Jordan didn’t hesitate. He reached out, his fingers closing around the shaft. Oh, fuck. It was so different from his own. Thicker, a solid, heavy weight in his palm. A prominent vein ran from root to tip, pulsing with Chad’s heartbeat. The skin was like hot velvet over steel. Jordan gave an experimental stroke, a slow, firm glide from base to tip, his thumb brushing over the slick, swollen head. Chad’s reaction was utterly intoxicating. His eyes rolled back slightly, a ragged, broken groan tearing from his throat. His hips bucked up into Jordan’s touch, his whole body tensing. His face was a mask of pure, unadulterated bliss. It was the hottest thing Jordan had ever seen. The power of it, the raw honesty of Chad’s pleasure, nearly made him come right then. Chad’s hand, seemingly moving on its own volition, reached out. His calloused, work-rough fingers wrapped around Jordan’s cock. Jordan gasped as Chad’s hand squeezed, his grip firm and confident. Chad’s eyes went wide with awe. “Jesus, man,” Chad breathed, giving him a slow, deliberate stroke. “It’s fuckin’ perfect.” “Feels so good,” Jordan moaned, his own hand continuing its rhythm on Chad. “You feel so good. Stroking another guy’s cock… fuck…” “I know,” Chad groaned, his hips moving in time with Jordan’s hand. “Never… never thought… oh, god…” His words dissolved into a series of helpless sounds. His breathing became shallow, frantic. “Jordan… fuck, dude, if you keep doing that… I’m gonna… I’m so close…” Jordan could feel it, the tension coiling impossibly tight in Chad’s body, the way his cock jumped and thickened in his hand. He slowed his strokes, letting the pressure subside for a tantalizing moment, drawing it out. He saw the frustration and desperate need flash in Chad’s eyes. Then he took him right back to the edge, his hand moving faster, tighter, his thumb swirling over the leaking slit. Chad’s control shattered. “I’m gonna cum, man! Oh, fuck, my cock feels so good, I’m so close, I’m cum—!” His whole body went rigid. A deep, primal groan erupted from his chest as his hips slammed up off the bed. The first shot hit Jordan’s stomach, a hot, startling splash. The second, third, fourth followed in rapid, powerful spurts, painting Jordan’s abs, his cock, his balls with thick, white stripes. Chad’s body shuddered violently through the release, his moans raw and unfiltered. The sight, the feeling of Chad’s hot cum on his skin, the sound of his complete surrender—it tipped Jordan over the edge he’d been teetering on. His own orgasm ripped through him with a force that made his vision blur. He cried out, his release jetting out in long, aching pulses, mingling with Chad’s on his stomach, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. For a long moment, there was only the sound of their heavy, gasping breaths. Jordan’s hand was still wrapped around Chad’s softening cock, coated in both their release. Chad’s hand had stilled on him. Chad blinked, looking dazed, spent, a little shocked. “That was…” he started, his voice rough. “Incredibly hot,” Jordan finished for him, a lazy, sated smile spreading across his face. Chad nodded slowly, a matching grin breaking through his stunned expression. “Yeah. It really was.” They sat there for another moment in the messy, perfect silence before Chad finally moved, grabbing the towel from the foot of his bed. “Here,” he said, his voice softer now. “We should probably…” Jordan took the towel, their fingers brushing. He started to clean himself up, the warm, sticky evidence of their shared pleasure a brand on his skin. The two agreed and call it a night. Chapter23 The morning light was a harsh, unforgiving bleach on the cheap hotel room carpet. Jordan woke to the sound of the shower running, the events of the night before hitting him with the force of a physical blow. Chad. His hand. His cum. He braced himself for the awkwardness, the regret, the inevitable cold shoulder he was certain would define their entire workday. The bathroom door clicked open. Steam billowed out, and Chad emerged, a towel slung low on his hips, his tattooed chest and shoulders glistening. He ran a hand through his wet, dark hair and nodded toward Jordan’s bed. “Mornin’. You shower. I’ll grab us some shitty hotel coffee.” No hesitation. No weird vibe. Just… normal. Relief, cool and sweet, washed through Jordan. “Yeah. Sounds good.” They moved through their morning routines with a practiced, silent efficiency, two guys who knew how to get ready for a hard day’s work. They dressed in their company-issued dark t-shirts and heavy work pants, laced up their boots, and headed out to the truck. The silence in the cab was comfortable, filled only with the rumble of the engine and the classic rock playing low on the radio. Jordan dared to hope they could just… move on. Then Chad cleared his throat, his large hands tightening on the steering wheel. “Listen, man. About last night.” Here it comes, Jordan thought, his stomach clenching. “I just… I want you to know I’m not gay,” Chad said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His voice was firm, a declaration meant for himself as much as for Jordan. “No interest in guys. No feelings for men. At all.” Jordan just nodded, keeping his expression neutral. Sure, dude. Whatever you need to tell yourself. But Chad continued, and his tone shifted from defensive to something far more compelling. “It’s just… I’ve never been in the room with another guy doing that. Never had someone watch me. And fuck, Jordan… it was one of the hottest, most erotic things I’ve ever done.” He finally risked a glance over, his brown eyes intense. “I was so turned on by it. By how in tune you were with your own dick. How much you clearly love to pleasure yourself. Just like I do. It was… fucking hot, man.” A jolt of pure, electric heat shot straight to Jordan’s groin. His cock, always responsive, began to thicken and swell against the rough fabric of his work pants. He adjusted himself subtly, the movement catching Chad’s eye. “I get it,” Jordan said, his voice a little thicker than he intended. “I love my cock. Love the weight of it in my hand. The way the skin slides. The deviousness of it. “Yeah?” Chad’s gaze dropped to Jordan’s lap, then quickly back to the road. A faint blush colored his neck above his shirt collar. Jordan followed his line of sight and saw the undeniable proof of his own words: a distinct, growing bulge was tenting his pants, the dark grey fabric already darkening with a small, wet patch of precum. Fuck, I’m leaking already. His eyes flicked to Chad’s lap. The same thing was happening there. A prominent ridge was straining against the zipper of his jeans, a matching damp spot forming. The sight made Jordan’s mouth water. “Looks like you do, too,” Jordan murmured, nodding toward Chad’s crotch. Chad let out a shaky laugh, a mix of embarrassment and raw arousal. “Chronic, bro. I’m a chronic bator. Can’t help it.” “Join the club,” Jordan grinned, the tension in the cab shifting from awkward to unbearably charged. The air was thick with the scent of their soap, their sweat, and the potent, musky scent of their mutual arousal. An idea, reckless and perfect, bloomed in Jordan’s mind. “Shop yard’s still twenty minutes out. We’re already hard, already wet… Wanna rub one out on the way? See if anyone sees us?” Chad’s head snapped toward him, his eyes wide. For a heart-stopping second, Jordan thought he’d gone too far. Then a slow, wicked grin spread across Chad’s face. “Fuck yeah. I dare you.” It was all the permission they needed. In a synchronized, frantic motion, they fumbled with their belts and zippers. The sounds of denim and metal were loud in the confines of the truck. Jordan pushed his pants and boxer briefs down just past his hips, his six-inch cock springing free, already fully hard and glistening at the tip. A breath later, Chad’s thicker, veiny eight inches was freed, standing proud and heavy against his stomach. “Holy shit,” Jordan breathed, his eyes drinking in the sight of Chad’s impressive length, the way his hand hugged the flared head. “I'm definitely not small,” Chad said, his voice rough with pride as he wrapped his work-roughened hand around his own shaft. He gave a slow, possessive stroke, his eyes locked on Jordan’s equally hard dick. Jordan mirrored him, his own hand a familiar, welcome pressure on his aching flesh. He moaned, low and soft, as his thumb smeared the bead of precum over his sensitive head. They fell into a rhythm, their breathing becoming ragged, their hands working their own cocks in a lewd, public display. A semi-truck roared past them on the left. Jordan looked up, meeting the eyes of the driver high in his cab. The man’s eyes widened, then dropped, his expression shifting from confusion to stunned arousal. He didn’t look away. He just watched, mesmerized, as Jordan and Chad stroked themselves on the highway. “He’s watching,” Jordan gasped, increasing his pace. His balls were drawing up tight, a familiar pressure building at his base. “I know,” Chad groaned, his hips thrusting slightly into his fist. “Fuck, it makes it so much better.” They drove like that for miles, two grown men with their cocks out, jacking off in broad daylight. The world outside the windshield became a blur; the only thing that mattered was the simmering heat in their groins and the shared, deviant thrill of exposure. “Gonna cum soon, bro. I am super close,” Chad gritted out, his strokes becoming frantic, jerky. “Jordan, fuck, I’m gonna—” “Me too,” Jordan panted, the climax coiling tight and desperate within him. “But where? Nowhere to shoot it, man. It’ll get all over the fucking truck.” Chad’s eyes were wild, desperate. “I don’t care, I can’t stop—” “Here,” Jordan said, the idea arriving in a flash of inspiration. He held out his free hand, palm up, between them. “Do it. Cum in my hand.” Chad didn’t hesitate. With a guttural cry that was pure animal release, his body seized. His cock pulsed violently in his hand, and the first thick, white rope launched across the space between them, landing with a hot, wet splat in Jordan’s palm. A second followed, and a third, each shot a powerful eruption that filled Jordan’s hand with Chad’s warm, musky essence. The sight, the smell, the incredible heat of another man’s release in his hand was the final trigger for Jordan. Using his new bator friend load he gripped his shaft. The wet, sloppy sounds it made was the final tippong point. His own orgasm exploded out of him, his vision whiting out at the edges. He cried out, his release jetting out in aching pulses, mixing with Chad’s in his cupped palm, coating his fingers in their combined spend. For a long moment, they just sat there, breathless, spent, their softening cocks still out, their hands still. Jordan’s palm was full, a warm, sticky pool of their pleasure. Chad looked down at the mess, then at Jordan’s face, a dazed, sated look in his eyes. “What are you gonna…?” Jordan brought his hand to his face. The scent was intensely masculine, primal. Without breaking eye contact with Chad, he leaned forward and slowly, deliberately, ran his tongue through the warm, salty mixture in his palm. Chad’s jaw went slack, a sharp, stunned inhale hissing through his teeth. “Fuck, Jordan…” A devious smile touched Jordan’s lips as he savored the taste. “Waste not, want not.”

greaT story! sorry for all the mishaps, but it brought back some of my memories of well-planned sexcations that imploded unexpectedly. Your comment about 'how very few patterns humans have' is so true. i try to shake things up a bit when i'm at the baThs, but you can't change some people. Thanks for the story!

AUTHOR NOTE: this one is inspired by a discussion I had about a so-called AI companion where folks worldwide sent confidences (even erotic) and on the other side there was a man who guided the bot to answer, so he could read every intimate speech users sent. Paid service, obvious. That's why I'd never trust using those for sexting role play! Here's the setup. Let's start! No AI has been used to create this, I'm an author and I care about my writing not to end up into #AISlop ---- Leo: I'm 22, twink, naive. My world is behind a screen and video-games. Very shy in real life. Sex? Never had, too fearful of judgments for my sex orientation and kinks! I just look at guys when I go to the gym and that's all! My entire sex life stays on BreedingZone where I found so many guys with my same fetishes. HIV included, yes, I'm one of those bug chasers wannabe. But with age verification spreading all over the world, interesting people to sext with, just disappeared and my inbox is always empty. But one day I found a topic referring to chatbots. "AI doesn't judge, it talks, so let's share the ones where you have your best sex conversations!" Curious of AI, I was discouraged. The most important engines just reject any explicit contents, so I followed that topic. Surprisingly, the most verbal man in that post, was a certain GifterAlex, a huge biohazard as profile pic, and a very different profile from the others. Interests: computer, tech, AI, research, psychology Very strange for a sex related website, so I kept on reading. Background: mid 40s, Caucasian, progressive politically oriented, in favor of any technology innovation gay men can benefit of. HIV status: poz, not on meds Role: top Looking for: real and concrete encounters. Not here to waste time. Access denied to flakes, fakes, bigots and crybabies. "Ambiguous", I thought; if he talks about computers in a sex site then he wants to hookup, where's the trap? Isn't he one of those "morality guardians" sent by far-right politicians to out gays around the world? So, I read his post: "Most interesting and effective bot I found is called Highly Intelligent Volunteer. It can provide any kind of advices, it's a very customizable agent. By text you can ask it anything. Try it for free at least 30 days then you'll be CHARGED". Didn't give too many attention on the word "charged" capitalized; could be just he wanted to warn readers they were going to pay. Curiosity hit me, I avoided asking questions about who the owner was, if it was an advertisement or just an advice. GifterAlex could be a user like me and I signed up with no hesitation. [TO BE CONTINUED]

I try to reinforce that when a guy gets me off especially well. Every load feels good, of course, but some are a lot better than others. When it's great, I'll say something like "Your ass/mouth seems like it's specially molded for my cock." Even a cumdump likes knowing he's appreciated. Of course, the ultimate compliment is if I ask for your number and we play again. Even if it's "meh" I'll usually mumble a perfunctory "thanks" as I withdraw.

Exactly. When I get so horny that I can't think right. The lunch break, after gym, or after work pump & dump gives relief.

Yeah I mean I'm leaking precum all over the place as I smoke like a chimney to this story but when do they get to the oil rig??? lol jk keep transforming these sluts into the wh*res they were meant to be

Thank you for the feedback and suggestions

Negative, drug free and NO Prep, so very fertile. Looking for complete poz breeding.

Ciao a tutti! Sarò a Roma, Palermo e Milano a marzo e aprile 2026. Hey everyone! I'll be in Rome, Palermo and Milan in march and april 2026.

Be hot to be fucked in one of those trucks they use.

I am a faggot. I love to service alpha cock. I love anybody’s cum in my mouth in my ass in my face.

Apologies if this has been done before. As a bottom what is the perfect size cock for you? I like them thick and prefer a larger cock when I'm getting fucked than when I'm sucking a dick. Eight or nine to fuck, six when I'm sucking. The ass fucking cock that size is big enough to bottom me out without hurting, and since I have a strong gag reflex the shorter blowjob cock lets me take it all without a problem. That said I love all stiff cocks in any hole.

I get what you're driving at. Allow me a small quibble? I think the preponderance of men do have *very general* preferences about the holes they breed. Some men are only going to breed specific genders and specific holes that align with their desires. Outside that, the intensity of a man's need to breed (rut, deprivation, intoxication, etc.) rules what individual's holes they will settle for breeding. This is what makes your statement so true in spirit. Straight men talk about women's role as sexual gatekeepers and that is from where so much grievance, privation, and pathology springs. They also talk about the ease and low cost of getting relief from other men. In a world where what you propose is true in every way, men would be infinitely happier. Breeders would rut in as many holes (many male because - gatekeeping) as pleases them, depositing their seed. So many men would line up to help fulfill that unmet need. That's a world I want to live in.

I love all hard cocks but big black dick for my little pussy hole really gets me going. I love being used and told how much of a little white bitch I am while my little dock dangles uselessly from the pounding.

Never really had any of my fisters moan, but it's clear when they're enjoying the experience. I'd rather have them making some noise than being weirdly silent.

[think before following links] https://xhamster.com/videos/dpb-poppers-trainer-100-pure-fucking-man-xhBjdpQ

This is one of the hottest stories on BZ......Thanks and More Please I was just about to shoot a big load when Chapter 9 ended!!!

WOOF ! Extremely HOT - Can Not Resisted - Love your Interested / Profile - wishing we could be Neighbors - Rocking TOPS / Raw Breeding - Double their Pleasures wit us - being Brothers !

HOT ! Can Not Resisted - Looking upon your picture - My Dick is Hard / Erected - Reading your Profile - wanting to Fucking you RAW - Multi Times / Loads - becoming a Animal ! more - more - Please !