Jared and Jordan

[sneakbator]

Chapter 1 

 

The silence in Jordan’s bedroom was a heavy, humid thing, thick with the ghost of spilled beer and the bitter taste of a prom night that had spectacularly flopped. Two tuxedo jackets were discarded on the floor like fallen dreams.

 

“I just don’t get it,” Jared mumbled from his spot on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone. “We were supposed to be getting laid right now.”

 

Jordan let out a sharp, humorless laugh from the desk chair. “Tell me about it. All that buildup. All that… anticipation.” He shifted, the rough denim of his jeans feeling suddenly constricting. The memory of his now-ex-girlfriend’s furious face as she dumped him for choosing to console Jared over dancing with her was a cold splash of reality. But Jared had gotten the same speech from his own girlfriend. They were in this miserable, virginity-intact boat together, like always.

 

“We were so damn excited,” Jared said, his voice lower, almost a whisper. “I was gonna… you know. Finally feel what it’s like.”

 

“Yeah,” Jordan breathed out, the word sounding more like a moan than he intended. His mind, against his will, conjured the fantasy he’d been nursing for weeks. Soft skin, quiet sighs, the wet heat of a—

 

His eyes drifted to Jared, who was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. And then he saw it. The strained fabric of his best friend’s thin grey shorts. A distinct, undeniable tent. And at its tip, a dark, wet patch was blooming, seeping through the cotton.

 

Jordan’s breath hitched. His own cock, which had been half-hard with frustrated longing, jolted to full, aching attention. The sudden, intense throb was so violent it was almost painful. What the hell? Why does seeing that… do this to me?

 

Jared must have felt the weight of his stare. He glanced up, his eyes slightly glazed from the cheap whisky they’d been drinking. His gaze didn’t go to Jordan’s face. It dropped immediately to his lap, to the identical, obvious bulge tenting Jordan’s own shorts. Jared’s lips parted slightly. He didn’t look away. He just… stared. And Jordan watched, mesmerized, as the wet spot on Jared’s shorts grew just a little darker.

 

“Damn, man,” Jared finally said, his voice rough. “I wish we were getting laid tonight.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Jordan choked out. “I mean, look. I’m hard just thinking about it.”

 

“Me too,” Jared admitted, his voice a low thrum that vibrated right through Jordan. The admission hung between them, charged and dangerous.

 

Jared’s eyes were locked on Jordan’s crotch. “Damn, dude. How big is that thing? It looks huge from over here.”

 

A flush crept up Jordan’s neck. He was modest, always had been, despite knowing he was generously equipped. “Oh, not that big.”

 

“Looks really big. Bigger than mine,” Jared pressed, a curious, hungry glint in his eye.

 

“How big are you?” Jordan asked, the question leaving his lips before his brain could censor it.

 

“Eight inches.”

 

Jordan scoffed, a nervous reflex. “Yeah, right.”

 

“I swear to god,” Jared said, and there was no joke in his tone. It was pure, deadly serious heat.

 

“Prove it.”

 

The challenge hung in the air. Jared, already riding a wave of booze and a bizarre, thrilling new kind of arousal, didn’t hesitate. He stood up, his movements slow, deliberate. His eyes never left Jordan’s as his fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts and underwear. In one fluid motion, he pushed them down his hips.

 

His thick, cut cock sprang free, fully erect and impressively long. It was a beautiful, pale column of flesh, and the movement sent a visible jolt through it. A large, glistening drop of precum welled from the slit and oozed down the side. Jordan’s mouth went completely dry. He was so transfixed, so utterly turned on by the sight of his best friend standing there, proudly displaying himself, that he could only stare, his own cock throbbing in a frantic, demanding rhythm.

 

“Your turn,” Jared breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Show me.”

 

There was no hesitation now. Jordan stood, his fingers fumbling with his own button and zipper. He shoved his clothes down, letting his own hard, six-inch erection bob into view. The cool air was a shock against his feverish skin.

 

They stood there, just a few feet apart, completely exposed. No words were needed. It was all understood in the heaving of their chests and the silent, hungry looks they gave each other’s bodies. Almost in unison, their hands went to their own cocks, beginning to stroke. It was a show. A performance for an audience of one.

 

Their shirts came off, tossed aside. They kicked free of their shorts and underwear, leaving them standing naked, closer now. The space between them crackled with unsaid want. Jordan’s eyes were fixed on Jared’s hand, on the way his foreskin glided smoothly, slicked by his own abundant precum.

 

“Man, I wish I had lube too,” Jordan muttered, his own dry strokes starting to chafe.

 

“I can help you,” Jared said, his voice husky. He stepped forward, so close now Jordan could feel the heat radiating from his body. Jared wrapped his hand around his own cock and gave it two firm, slow pulls, collecting the clear fluid beading at his tip. Then he reached out, his movements hesitant for only a second, before he smeared his warm, slick precum directly onto Jordan’s shaft.

 

The sensation was electric. So warm. So wet. A low groan was torn from Jordan’s throat. “Fuck, that’s so hot.”

 

“You like that?” Jared asked, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and fierce excitement.

 

“Yeah.”

 

They stepped even closer, until their bodies were almost touching. Jared reached down, his slick hand wrapping around both of their cocks. He gave an experimental stroke, and the feeling was utterly mind-blowing. Their shafts slid together, glistening, Jared’s precum making the friction deliciously smooth and wet.

 

“Feels so good on my dick, bro,” Jordan gasped, his hips beginning to move on their own.

 

“Yeah, same here,” Jared moaned, his grip tightening.

 

Their free hands began to explore, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. Jared’s fingers wrapped around Jordan’s length, stroking him in time with his own thrusts into their shared grip. Jordan did the same, his hand closing around Jared’s hot, velvety skin. It was thicker than he’d imagined, a solid, pulsing weight in his hand.

 

They looked up from the erotic sight of their intertwined hands and their cocks sliding together. Their eyes met. The confusion was gone, burned away by a pure, unadulterated need. Without a word, they leaned in, and their mouths met in a clumsy, desperate kiss. It was all heat and wetness and the faint taste of whisky.

 

They kissed deeply, tongues exploring as their hands worked each other’s cocks, their rhythms faltering, becoming frantic.

 

“I wanna taste you,” Jordan panted against Jared’s lips, the desire overwhelming him.

 

He sank to his knees, his world narrowing to the beautiful cock in front of him. He took the head into his mouth, lapping at the precum there, savoring the musky, salty taste. He swirled his tongue, sucking gently, and Jared’s strangled cry of “Oh, fuck…” was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard. He didn’t last long, the novelty and intensity too much, before he rose, his own need paramount.

 

Jared understood instantly. He dropped to his own knees, taking Jordan’s slick length into his mouth with an eager hunger, mimicking what Jordan had done. The hot, wet suction made Jordan’s knees buckle. He buried his hands in Jared’s hair, his head falling back.

 

Soon, they were side-by-side on the edge of the bed, kissing again, their hands roaming over each other’s chests and stomachs, before returning to stroke their own cocks, the visual of the other fueling the fire.

 

“I’m getting close, man,” Jared warned, his voice tight and strained. “So close.”

 

The words were a trigger. “Me too. Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jordan gasped, his orgasm rushing up on him like a freight train.

 

“Kiss me,” Jared demanded, pulling him in. “Kiss me while we cum.”

 

Their mouths crashed together in a messy, open-mouthed kiss as their hands flew over their cocks. The world dissolved into pure sensation. A second later, Jordan’s whole body seized, a muffled, guttural moan swallowed by Jared’s mouth as his cock jerked violently, sending thick ropes of cum shooting up onto his stomach and chest. Jared’s own muffled cry followed instantly, his hot release joining Jordan’s, his body shuddering against him. They kept kissing through the aftershocks, their hands slowly, tenderly, stroking their own spent, slick cocks, mingling their releases.

[sneakbator]

Chapter 2

 

 

The morning light was a cruel, bright lie. It streamed through Jordan’s blinds, illuminating the dust motes dancing over the wreckage of their tuxedos and the two bodies tangled in his sheets. The smell of sex was still thick in the air, a musky, sweet scent that made his stomach clench.

Jared stirred first, his body stiffening the second consciousness returned. His eyes snapped open, meeting Jordan’s, which were already wide awake and filled with the same dawning horror. They flew apart as if electrocuted, the warmth of the other’s skin suddenly feeling like a brand.

Silence. Heavy, awkward, suffocating.

“Dude,” Jared finally rasped, his voice rough with sleep and regret. He stared at the ceiling. “What… what was that?”

Jordan’s mind was a frantic, scrambling mess. The memories flashed—the feel of Jared’s cock in his hand, in his mouth, the taste of his cum. A hot flush of shame was immediately chased by a treacherous, electric jolt of arousal. It felt so good. Why did it feel so good?

“The whisky,” Jordan said, the words tasting like ash. “It was the whisky. And… and getting dumped. We weren’t thinking straight.”

“Yeah,” Jared agreed too quickly, relief flooding his tone. “Right. Just a fucked-up, drunk thing. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Right. Doesn’t mean anything.”

They dressed in silence, avoiding each other’s eyes, the unspoken agreement hanging between them: We will never speak of this again. Jared left with a mumbled goodbye, and the click of the door shutting felt infinitely heavier than it ever had before.

The agreement was a lie they told each other, but a lie they couldn’t tell themselves. In the days that followed, the memory was a ghost that haunted every quiet moment. Jordan would be staring at his phone, and his mind would replay the sight of Jared’s thick, cut cock springing free, the large drop of precum. His own body would betray him instantly, hardening in his jeans, a constant, aching reminder. It was confusing, wrong, and yet the most intensely erotic thing he’d ever experienced.

They hung out as usual—played video games, shot hoops in the driveway—but the easy camaraderie was strained. A new tension hummed beneath the surface, a current of unsaid words and unanswered questions. Their eyes would meet, and they’d both quickly look away, the air crackling with everything they were pretending not to feel. Jordan found himself watching Jared’s hands, remembering how they felt on his skin, and he’d have to adjust himself, desperate for more but too terrified to ask.

The first big summer party was a welcome distraction. Music throbbed, red plastic cups were everywhere, and pretty girls in sundresses laughed and danced. Jordan flirted half-heartedly with a girl from his bio class, but his attention kept drifting. Across the crowded backyard, Jared was doing the same, leaning against a fence, chatting with a group of friends. And then his eyes—as if pulled by a magnet—found Jordan’s.

It wasn’t a glance. It was a stare. A direct, unbroken line of intense, shared recognition. In that split second, the noise of the party faded. There was no confusion, only a silent, screaming question. Are you thinking about it, too? Do you want it, too?

The connection was so potent, so undeniable, that they both had to look away, their hearts hammering against their ribs. The entire night became a tense, exhilarating game of stolen glances and simmering want.

The party wound down. They called an Uber Pool, a decision that felt like fate. They slid into the backseat, a stranger already asleep in the front. Their thighs pressed together from hip to knee, the thin fabric of their shorts doing nothing to insulate the heat of the contact.

Jordan’s breath caught. Jared’s leg was solid muscle, warm and real. Every slight shift of the car, every bump in the road, sent a fresh jolt through him. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears, his cock beginning to stir, thick and insistent. He dared a glance sideways.

Jared was already looking at him. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with drink and desire. There was no pretense left, no denial. The look was pure, unfiltered hunger. Jared’s hand, resting on his own thigh, twitched, his fingers curling into a fist. Jordan’s own hand trembled. The air in the car was too hot, too thick to breathe.

They didn’t speak a word. They didn’t have to.

The Uber pulled away from Jordan’s house, and they practically fell out of the car, a chaotic tangle of limbs and frantic energy. They stumbled up the driveway, a silent, mutual desperation guiding them. Getting the key in the lock was a fumbling, agonizing delay.

The front door finally swung shut behind them, plunging them into the quiet dark of the hallway. And then Jared moved.

In one fluid, powerful motion, he spun Jordan around and pinned him against the back of the door. The thud echoed through the house. Their eyes locked for one final, searing second of confirmation before Jared’s mouth crashed down on his.

This was nothing like the drunken, exploratory kiss from prom night. This was deep, passionate, and utterly intentional. It was all tongue and teeth and desperate, hungry noises pulled from their throats. Jordan’s hands came up, tangling in Jared’s hair, pulling him closer as he kissed back with equal fervor.

Their cocks were already granite-hard, straining against their shorts, pressing against each other’s through the fabric. Jared’s hands yanked at Jordan’s shirt, pulling it up and over his head before tearing his own off. Buttons pinged against the wall. Their hands fumbled with belts and zippers, pushing jeans and underwear down in a frenzied rush until they pooled at their ankles.

They broke the kiss, both gasping for air, their foreheads pressed together. Their bare, leaking cocks slapped together, a hot, slick connection that made them both groan. The sensation was electric, a direct line to every nerve ending.

Jared dropped to his knees, his hands on Jordan’s hips. He didn’t hesitate. He took the entire length of Jordan’s six-inch cock into his mouth in one smooth, wet glide.

“Oh, god, Jared…” Jordan moaned, his head thumping back against the door. The heat was unbelievable, the suction perfect. “Your mouth… feels so fucking good on my dick.”

Jared hummed in response, the vibration traveling straight up Jordan’s spine. He pulled off, swirling his tongue around the head, lapping at the precum already beading there. “You taste so good,” Jordan gasped, his voice ragged. “So sweet.”

The praise seemed to ignite something in Jared. He took him deep again, his nose pressing into the trimmed hair at Jordan’s base, his eyes watering as he worked his throat around him. The sight, the sounds, the feeling—it was too much. Jordan knew he wouldn’t last.

“Stop, stop…” he panted, pulling Jared up by his shoulders. “My turn.”

He pushed Jared toward the bed, following him down as they landed in a heap on the comforter. Jordan kissed him hard before sliding down his body, his own hunger taking over. He took Jared’s thick, eight-inch cock into his mouth, mimicking what he’d just received. He gagged slightly, his eyes watering, drool slicking his chin, but he didn’t stop. He worked him, taking him as deep as he could, lost in the musky, male taste of him.

Jared’s hips bucked off the bed. “Fuck, Jordan…” he grunted, his hands fisting the sheets.

After a few blissful minutes, Jared gently pulled him off. “Turn over,” he breathed, his voice dark with need.

Jordan complied without question, rolling onto his stomach, his heart hammering. He felt Jared settle between his legs, then the warm, wet swipe of his tongue against his tight, nervous hole.

Jordan jolted. “Oh, shit…”

Jared didn’t let up. He feasted, tonguing him deep and slow, tasting him with a reverence that made Jordan’s toes curl. He tastes so good. The sensation was alien and incredible, a wave of pleasure so intense it bordered on unbearable. He was panting into the mattress, pushing back against Jared’s face, completely surrendered.

“Fuck me,” he begged, the words muffled by the comforter. “Please, Jared. Put your cock in my ass. I need it.”

He heard Jared spit into his hand, then the slick sound of him stroking his own cock. A moment later, the blunt, wet head of Jared’s cock was pressing against him. Jared worked it slowly, using his own copious precum and spit to ease the way, pressing against the tight ring of muscle until, with a slow, burning, glorious push, he slid inside.

The fullness was overwhelming. Jordan cried out, a strangled sound of pure ecstasy as Jared began to move, setting a deep, passionate rhythm. It was a little painful, a glorious stretch, but the pleasure eclipsed everything.

“Wait,” Jordan gasped. “I want to see you.”

Jared stilled, pulling out momentarily so Jordan could flip onto his back. He hooked his legs over Jared’s shoulders, pulling him close. Their eyes locked as Jared pushed back in, sinking deep once more. The intimacy of the position was staggering. They were face to face, bodies joined, breathing the same air.

And in Jared’s eyes, Jordan saw it. It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just heat. It was something deeper, something that had been there all along, hidden beneath years of friendship and confusion. It was love.

The liquor in his veins gave him a bravery he’d never known. “I love you,” he whispered, the words leaving his lips on a broken moan.

Jared’s rhythm faltered. Shock, then a dawning, breathtaking wonder washed over his face. He leaned down, his thrusts becoming tender, deeper, more meaningful. “I love you too,” he breathed against Jordan’s lips.

The confession was the final catalyst. The dam broke. Their orgasms ripped through them simultaneously, a powerful, shared release that felt like a physical manifestation of their words. Jordan’s back arched off the bed as he came, his vision whiting out, his cry of “Jared!” echoing in the room. Jared’s own climax followed, his body shuddering, his moan of “Jordan…” a perfect, answering echo as he emptied himself deep inside. They collapsed together, a sweaty, breathless, entangled mess, the words hanging in the air between them, real and undeniable.

[sneakbator]

Chapter 3

 

 

The sticky, cooling sensation between them was the first thing Jordan registered. Not as a shock, but as a fact. A pleasant, warm fact. He blinked his eyes open, the morning light softer this time, finding Jared’s sleeping face inches from his own. There was no frantic scrambling apart, no wave of panicked guilt. Just a deep, resonant calm.

 

Jared’s eyes fluttered open. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

 

“Morning,” Jordan breathed back, his own smile forming in response. He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Jared’s lips. It was gentle, affectionate, a world away from the desperate, hungry kisses of the night before. It felt… natural.

 

They disentangled themselves, the dried cum on their stomachs pulling at their skin. “We’re a mess,” Jared chuckled, looking down at himself.

 

“A good mess,” Jordan corrected, his heart feeling impossibly full. He’d never imagined waking up like this with anyone, least of all his best friend. The word ‘gay’ floated through his mind, but it didn’t stick. It felt too small, too inadequate for what was between them. This was just… them.

 

They showered separately, a silent, mutual decision to keep some semblance of normalcy for Jared’s family downstairs. But the air between them had shifted permanently. Over a quiet breakfast, their knees touched under the table, a constant, secret point of contact.

 

“So,” Jared said later, as they drove aimlessly through their now-too-familiar town, both high school graduates with a suddenly wide-open future. “What… turns you on?”

 

The question was bold, direct, and it sent a fresh jolt straight to Jordan’s groin. He glanced over, seeing the curious, hungry look in Jared’s eyes. “I don’t know. I guess… I never really let myself think about it before. You?”

 

Jared didn’t hesitate. “Hairy guys. Definitely. And cut cocks. There’s something so… defined about them.” He kept his eyes on the road, but a faint blush crept up his neck. “And… fuck, this is gonna sound weird… precum. Seeing it, tasting it. It drives me insane.” He took a breath. “And… showing off. Exposing myself. The idea of someone seeing me, getting hard because of me… shit.”

 

Jordan’s own cock was already stirring, thickening against his jeans. Jared’s confession was the hottest thing he’d ever heard. “That doesn’t sound weird,” he said, his voice a little husky. “It sounds… really fucking hot.”

 

“There’s a place,” Jared said, his tone shifting, becoming conspiratorial. “The old boat ramp out on Route 9. There’s a patch of woods behind it. People… go there. To cruise.”

 

The implication hung in the air, heavy and illicit. Jordan’s mouth went dry. The idea was terrifying. And utterly exhilarating. “You wanna… go check it out?”

 

Jared’s answer was a sharp, eager grin. “Yeah. I really do.”

 

They drove in a charged silence, the anticipation building like a physical pressure. By the time Jared pulled his truck into the gravel parking lot, Jordan’s heart was hammering against his ribs. A few other cars were scattered around, their occupants unseen. The air felt thick, charged with possibility.

 

They got out, both wearing the thinnest athletic shorts they owned, commando beneath. The late afternoon sun was warm on their skin. With every step toward the tree line, Jordan felt his cock twitch, beginning its inevitable swell. The coarse fabric of his shorts dragged against the sensitive head, and he knew a dark spot of precum was already beginning to form. He glanced at Jared’s crotch and saw the same tell-tale dampness, the outline of his thick shaft becoming more pronounced with every heartbeat.

 

The woods were quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and their own footsteps on the packed earth. The thrill of the unknown, the sheer audacity of what they were doing, was a potent aphrodisiac.

 

Jared stopped walking. Without a word, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pushed them down to his mid-thigh. His cock and balls sprang free into the dappled sunlight, his impressive eight inches already fully hard, glistening at the tip. He let out a shaky breath, a mix of nerves and pure excitement. “Your turn,” he whispered, his eyes dark with desire.

 

The command was all Jordan needed. He fumbled with his own shorts, shoving them down. The humid air felt incredible on his exposed skin. He was fully erect now, his six-inch cock standing proud, a bead of precum welling and dripping onto the leaf litter below. Seeing Jared standing there, so boldly exposed, made him feel powerful, desired, and incredibly vulnerable all at once.

 

They walked on, their cocks bouncing freely, the lewd slap of their bare thighs the only sound for a moment. Then, a new sound reached them. A low, rhythmic grunting. And another sound, wetter, more slurping.

 

They crept closer, their pace slowing, until they saw them through a break in the trees. Two men. One, older with a hairy chest and a cut cock, standing with his back against an oak. The other, younger, was on his knees, his head bobbing in the man’s lap, the wet, sucking sounds echoing softly in the clearing. The standing man had his head thrown back, his eyes closed in ecstasy, one hand tangled in the hair of the man servicing him.

 

It was surreal. A scene from a porn movie playing out in the dappled green light of the woods. Jordan’s breath caught. It should have been shocking, maybe even off-putting. But it wasn’t. It was the most intensely erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. The raw, unfiltered hunger of it mirrored his own.

 

He felt a hand on his arm. Jared was staring, his own cock leaking steadily now, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The look they shared said everything. This is real. This is happening.

 

Without breaking eye contact with Jared, Jordan sank to his knees. The damp earth soaked through his shorts, but he didn’t care. He reached for Jared’s hips, pulling him closer. He took Jared’s beautiful, leaking cock into his mouth in one deep, sloppy glide, his tongue swirling around the head, lapping up the salty-sweet precum. He gagged slightly, then relaxed his throat, taking him deeper, wanting to taste every inch, wanting to be a part of the raw, hungry energy of this place. He looked up, his eyes meeting Jared’s, and saw a look of awe and pure, unadulterated lust staring back down at him.

[Spike1108]

Fucking super HOT!

[sneakbator]

Chapter 4 

The sight of the kneeling man, the sounds of his eager mouth, the raw display of pleasure—it all sent a current of pure, unadulterated electricity straight to Jordan’s core. He was achingly hard, his own cock throbbing in time with Jared’s pulse against his tongue. But a new, daring thought bloomed in his mind, fed by Jared’s earlier confession about showing off. I want them to see me. I want them to see us.

He pulled off Jared’s wet cock with a soft, wet pop, looking up at him. Jared’s eyes were glazed with lust, his breath coming in short, sharp pants. “Let’s get closer,” Jordan whispered, his voice husky with desire.

Jared just nodded, a sharp, eager dip of his chin. They stood together, their hard cocks bouncing as they moved slowly, deliberately, through the undergrowth. The crunch of leaves beneath their bare feet seemed impossibly loud. The two men didn’t startle. The older one, his hand still fisted in the younger man’s hair, simply opened his eyes and watched them approach, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. He gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod of welcome.

The younger man pulled off the thick, veiny cock with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting his lips to the glistening head. He turned to look, his eyes wide but not with fear—with excitement. “Well, hello there,” the older man said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble. His gaze raked over Jordan and Jared’s naked, straining bodies. “You boys want to watch me fuck my Twink?”

They both nodded, their throats too tight with anticipation to form words. They stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from the other men, to smell the musky scent of sex and sweat mingling with the earthy aroma of the woods.

The older man didn’t wait for another answer. He spun the younger man around with a practiced ease, bending him over the moss-covered trunk of a fallen tree. The younger man—the boy—went willingly, spreading his legs and arching his back, presenting himself. The older man spat into his hand, slicked his own substantial length, and positioned himself. With one powerful, fluid thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

The boy cried out, a sharp, guttural sound that was pure pleasure. “Yes! Oh god, yes, Daddy!”

The older man began to move, setting a brutal, punishing rhythm that rocked the younger man’s entire body. Each thrust was punctuated by a grunt, a slap of skin on skin. “You like this fat dick, boy?” the older man growled, his voice feral. “You like Daddy’s dick splitting your boy hole open?”

“Yes, Daddy! Fuck me, Daddy! Your cock feels so good in me! Harder! Deeper! Faster!” the boy begged, his voice cracking with each driving impact.

Jordan and Jared were mesmerized. Their hands instinctively went to their own cocks, stroking in time with the older man’s thrusts. The visual was overwhelming—the powerful, hairy man dominating the willing, eager boy. The sheer carnality of it was the hottest thing Jordan had ever seen. He could feel his own orgasm building, a tight, hot coil low in his belly. He glanced at Jared; his best friend’s jaw was clenched, his strokes becoming frantic, his own precum leaking in a steady, slick stream that he used to lubricate his furious pace. They were both edging, holding themselves right on the precipice, over and over again, driven higher by the explicit show.

The older man’s rhythm began to falter, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his grunts more urgent. “I’m gonna nut, boy,” he groaned, his voice thick with impending release. “You want Daddy’s load?”

“Yes! Please, Daddy! I want it!” the boy cried out, his body trembling.

“Where do you want it?”

The boy twisted his head around, his eyes locking directly with Jordan’s. “On my face. Cover my face with it, Daddy.”

The command, the raw filth of it, sent Jared and Jordan over another edge. They both moaned, their hands a blur on their own cocks, fighting not to climax.

The older man pulled out of the boy’s ass with a wet, slick sound. He spun the dazed boy around onto his knees. The boy looked up at him with utter devotion, his mouth open, tongue out, ready. The older man fisted his own thick, dripping cock, stroking it hard. “Here it comes, boy! Daddy’s gonna nut all over your pretty face!”

He let out a series of raw, animalistic groans, his body tensing. “I’m coming! Fuck!” Thick, white ropes of cum shot from his pulsing cock, splattering across the boy’s forehead, his cheeks, his chin, and his open, waiting mouth. The boy moaned, lapping at the cum that landed on his lips, his eyes fluttering closed in ecstasy.

The sight was too much. Jordan felt his own control shatter. “Jared, fuck… I’m about to cum…” he gasped, the words torn from him.

The boy’s eyes snapped open, landing on them. His face was a glistening, white mask. He grinned, a wicked, depraved smile. “Do it,” he urged, his voice breathy. “Cum on me too. Add to it.”

The invitation was all the permission they needed. They looked at each other, a final, silent question answered in the frantic nodding of their heads. They stumbled forward, their cocks aching and dripping, until they were standing over the kneeling boy, their shadows falling across his cum-painted face.

They didn’t need to coordinate. Their bodies were perfectly in sync. With twin, guttural cries that ripped through the quiet woods, their orgasms hit them. Jordan’s vision whited out as his cock jerked, pulsing, sending thick jets of his own hot release splashing across the boy’s face, mixing with the older man’s. He heard Jared’s own choked shout beside him, felt the faint mist of his best friend’s cum landing alongside his own.

The boy laughed, a sound of pure, unhinged joy, and used his hands to smear the massive, combined load all over his skin. He gathered the sticky mixture and used it to lube his own neglected cock, stroking himself furiously. Within seconds, his back arched and he added his own volley of cum into the air, it arcing up before splattering onto the forest floor with a series of wet patters.

Panting, spent, Jordan’s knees felt weak. He looked down at the blissful, utterly debauched boy, then over at Jared, whose chest was heaving, his expression one of stunned, sated awe. The older man clapped a heavy hand on Jared’s shoulder. “Damn, boys. That was a hell of a show,” he chuckled.

[sneakbator]

Chapter 5

 

 

Jordan looked at Jared, who was furiously stroking his own hard cock with his free hand, his breathing as ragged as Blake’s. Jordan gave a single, decisive nod. Now.

He took Blake’s cock deep, deeper than before, burying it in his throat and holding it there. He looked up, meeting Blake’s desperate, pleading eyes.

“I’m cumming!” Blake shouted, his body bowing off the couch.

The first pulse was a violent, shocking burst of heat against the back of Jordan’s throat. He swallowed instinctively, and the action seemed to trigger a cataclysm within Blake. Rope after rope of hot, thick cum shot down his throat, each pulse accompanied by a guttural, almost pained moan from Blake. His body shook uncontrollably, his hands gripping Jordan’s hair, holding him in place as he emptied himself completely.

When the last shudder passed, Blake collapsed back against the couch, panting, his eyes glazed over. He looked down at Jordan, who was still kneeling between his legs, a trail of cum on his chin. A look of pure, unadulterated disbelief washed over his face.

“I’ve… I’ve never felt anything… so good in my life,” he stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Never… from anyone…”

[sneakbator]

Sorry I messed up pasting chapter 5;in the previous post.m

FULL CHAPTER 5

The walk back to the truck was a blur of buzzing adrenaline and sticky, cooling skin. The humid evening air did little to cut through the heat radiating off their bodies. They didn’t speak until the cab doors were closed, sealing them in a silent, private world.

“Holy fucking shit,” Jared finally breathed, his hands still gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white. He turned to Jordan, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. “Did that just happen?”

Jordan could only nod, a slow, dazed smile spreading across his face. His heart was still thumping a wild, erratic rhythm against his ribs. “It happened.” The words felt inadequate. What they’d done, what they’d been a part of, was more than an event; it was a seismic shift. A door had been blown off its hinges, and a whole new world of hungry, deviant possibility sprawled out before them. The confusion was gone, replaced by a crystal-clear, thrilling hunger.

Jared started the engine, but didn’t put the truck in gear. He just looked at Jordan, the yellow light from the dashboard softening the sharp lines of his face. “That… turned me on. More than anything ever has.” He let out a shaky laugh. “Watching that guy use his Twink… fuck. And the way he looked at us. He wanted us to watch. He wanted us to join.”

“Me too,” Jordan admitted, the confession feeling like a weight lifting off his chest. “It was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He paused, the memory of the woods mingling with an older, more private fantasy. “But you know what really gets me? Those videos. The ‘straight guys go gay for pay’ ones.”

Jared raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on his lips. “Yeah? Which part? The guy getting paid?”

Jordan shook his head, his pulse kicking up a notch. This was a deeper truth, one he’d never voiced. “No. I used to think that. But now… I think I want to be the one on my knees. The one making the straight guy feel so good he forgets about the money. Forgets he’s even with a guy.”

The silence in the cab was electric. Jared’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to Jordan’s mouth for a tantalizing second. “Fuck, Jordan. That’s… let’s do it.”

The plan formed with a frantic, giddy energy once they got back to Jordan’s house, his parents safely out of town for the weekend. They downloaded three different hookup apps, their shoulders pressed together as they hunched over Jordan’s phone. They crafted an ad together, Jared’s fingers flying over the screen: “Generous couple looking for curious straight guys. Discretion assured. $200 for your time.”

The responses were immediate. A barrage of dick pics from guys named ‘Daddy’ and ‘HungTop,’ their profiles filled with gym selfies and lewd propositions. Jordan swiped left on all of them, a knot of disappointment forming in his stomach. This felt seedy, not thrilling.

Then, a new notification popped up. The username was just ‘B_Blake22’. The profile picture was a cleverly angled shot of a torso, from the chin down to the hips, obscuring the face but showcasing a lean, toned stomach and a prominent bulge in grey sweatpants. But it was the series of small, intricate floral tattoos curling around the hip bone and trailing down the thigh that made Jordan freeze.

“No way,” Jared whispered, snatching the phone. He zoomed in on the tattoos. “Is that…?”

“Blake Miller,” Jordan finished, his mouth going dry. “It’s him. He’s the only guy in our class with ink like that.”

A shocked, giddy excitement replaced the disappointment. They messaged back, their hearts in their throats. The conversation was stilted, transactional. Blake was direct. He needed money for car repairs. He’d never done anything with a guy. He wasn’t gay. Each denial sent a fresh, illicit thrill straight to Jordan’s groin. They arranged the meet. Jordan’s house. An hour.

When the doorbell rang, the sound was like a gunshot in the quiet house. Jordan opened the door to find Blake standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking exactly as he had in the hallways of their high school—handsome, athletic, radiating a familiar, straight-boy confidence. His eyes darted past Jordan, and his jaw went slack when he saw Jared leaning against the living room archway.

“Jared? Jordan?” Blake’s face cycled through confusion, shock, and a flicker of panic. “What the hell? I… I didn’t know… I mean, your ad…”

“We know,” Jared said, his voice calm, a sly smile on his face. “Come in, man. It’s cool.”

Blake stepped inside hesitantly, his eyes wide. “Look, I’m not gay,” he blurted out, as if saying it enough would make it true. “I just… the money. I’ve never even thought about…”

“We get it,” Jordan said, his own voice surprisingly steady even as his cock began to thicken, pressing against his zipper. The denial was like gasoline on the fire of his arousal. “Beer?”

They sat on the couch, the three of them, making awkward small talk for ten minutes, two beers doing little to cut the thick tension. Jared finally stood up and retrieved an envelope from the kitchen counter, placing it on the coffee table. The stack of cash was impossible to ignore.

Blake stared at it, then drained his bottle. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “Okay. What… what do you want me to do?”

Jordan’s mouth was desert-dry. This was it. He looked at Jared, who gave him an almost imperceptible nod, then pulled out his phone, tapping the screen to start recording. The red light was a tiny, glowing eye of permission.

Jordan slid off the couch onto his knees on the rug. The movement felt natural, powerful. He looked up at Blake, who was watching him with a mixture of fear and a dark, curious interest. Jordan reached out, his fingers trembling only slightly, and placed his palm on the outside of Blake’s jeans. He could feel the heat, the solid shape of him beneath the denim. He rubbed slowly, firmly, and felt the flesh beneath his hand begin to swell and harden.

“Oh, fuck,” Blake muttered, his head falling back against the couch cushion, his eyes squeezing shut.

Jordan worked the button of his jeans, then the zipper. The sound was obscenely loud. He pushed the rough fabric aside and reached into the opening of Blake’s boxers. His fingers brushed against coarse pubic hair, then found the hot, smooth skin of his cock. It was already half-hard, thickening rapidly under his touch. It was a nice cock, cut, with a slight, graceful upward curve. Perfect.

“Stand up,” Jordan whispered.

Blake complied, a marionette on a string of desire and cash. He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles in one clumsy motion, his cock springing free. It was fully erect now, thick and veiny, the head flushed a deep, angry red. He sat back down, his legs spread, putting his masculinity on full, vulnerable display. Jared moved closer, phone held steady, the lens capturing every twitch, every flicker of expression.

Jordan didn’t waste time. He leaned forward, his face inches from Blake’s groin. He could smell the clean, musky scent of him. He started by licking a slow, wet stripe from the base of his balls all the way up the underside of his shaft. Blake jolted, a sharp gasp escaping his lips. Jordan did it again, and again, lapping at him like a decadent treat, coating his length in a glossy layer of saliva. He took one of Blake’s balls into his mouth, sucking gently, rolling it with his tongue.

“Jesus…” Blake breathed, his hands gripping the couch cushions.

Finally, Jordan guided the head of Blake’s cock to his lips. He paused, making eye contact with Jared over Blake’s thigh, seeing the raw hunger in his best friend’s eyes. Then he opened his mouth and took Blake in.

The effect was instantaneous. Blake’s eyes rolled back into his head, a long, low moan tearing from his chest. His whole body trembled. The sheer, unadulterated look of pleasure on his face was a drug. It made Jordan feel powerful, wanted, needed. He dove deeper, taking more of him, relaxing his throat until his nose was buried in Blake’s pubes. He started to move, establishing a steady rhythm, his hand working the base as his mouth suctioned the length.

And then Blake started talking, his voice a ragged, broken thing. “Yeah… fuck… swallow my cock.” His instructions were no longer for Jordan, but for Jared. “Look at him… look at him suck me. Such a good mouth. Slower… oh god, slower. Feels so good. Faster now. Deeper. Stroke me while you suck me. Just like that. Keep going. I’m getting so close.”

Jordan felt the cock in his mouth pulse, the veins thickening. He could taste the first salty-sweet hint of precum. He pulled off, letting Blake’s wet, slick dick slap against his stomach. Blake whimpered at the loss. “No, don’t stop… please…”

Jordan waited, letting the edge of orgasm recede. He wanted to own this moment, to control this straight boy’s pleasure completely. He took him back into his mouth, building him up again with deep, passionate sucks, his tongue swirling around the frenulum. He brought him right back to the brink, feeling Blake’s thighs tense, his abs clench.

“I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna…” Blake begged, his voice cracking.

Again, Jordan pulled off, a string of saliva and precum connecting his lips to the glistening purple head. He was playing him like an instrument, and he loved it. “Please,” Blake sobbed, his composure completely shattered. “Let me cum. Please, I need to cum.”

Jordan looked at Jared, who was furiously stroking his own hard cock with his free hand, his breathing as ragged as Blake’s. Jordan gave a single, decisive nod. Now.

He took Blake’s cock deep, deeper than before, burying it in his throat and holding it there. He looked up, meeting Blake’s desperate, pleading eyes.

“I’m cumming!” Blake shouted, his body bowing off the couch.

The first pulse was a violent, shocking burst of heat against the back of Jordan’s throat. He swallowed instinctively, and the action seemed to trigger a cataclysm within Blake. Rope after rope of hot, thick cum shot down his throat, each pulse accompanied by a guttural, almost pained moan from Blake. His body shook uncontrollably, his hands gripping Jordan’s hair, holding him in place as he emptied himself completely.

When the last shudder passed, Blake collapsed back against the couch, panting, his eyes glazed over. He looked down at Jordan, who was still kneeling between his legs, a trail of cum on his chin. A look of pure, unadulterated disbelief washed over his face.

“I’ve… I’ve never felt anything… so good in my life,” he stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper. “Never… from anyone…”

 

[Tanbbottom]

More please. 

[sneakbator]

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.” 

[sneakbator]

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.”

[sneakbator]

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.

[Hunter22]

Beautiful story! Can't wait to see where you take it next 

[sneakbator]

 

Chapter 9

 

The heavy, industrial scent of Jordan’s welding gear still clung to his skin, a metallic ghost from his afternoon class. It mingled with the greasy, comforting aroma of the Chinese takeout spread across his bed. The first semester of community college had settled into a rhythm, a comfortable grind of classes and stolen hours with Jared. Their secret world, a carefully curated space of locked doors and hushed moans, felt safer than ever.

“Your mom and Scott won’t be back ‘til seven, right?” Jared asked around a mouthful of lo mein, kicking off his shoes. “My parents think I’m at the library. Which, I mean, technically your room is a library of carnal knowledge now, so…”

Jordan snorted, shoving him playfully. “Shut up. And yeah, they’re gone. They never take off early. It’s a perfect.”

They ate quickly, the familiarity of the routine as comforting as the food. The Tv was just background noise, a blur of colors and sounds neither of them processed. It was always just a precursor, a thin excuse for what they really wanted. As the opening credits rolled, Jordan shifted on the bed, his leg pressing against Jared’s.

And just like clockwork, it started.

A casual arm slung over Jared’s shoulder. A hand resting on his thigh. Jordan’s body had a mind of its own, a homing beacon tuned directly to Jared’s warmth, his proximity. It was an involuntary reaction, as predictable as the sunrise. Within minutes, his palm was cupping the growing bulge in Jared’s sweatpants, feeling the solid weight of him stir and thicken under the soft fabric.

“You’re so predictable,” Jared murmured, but he was already leaning into the touch, his head tilting back against the headboard. His eyelids grew heavy.

“Can’t help it,” Jordan whispered, his voice already rough with need. His fingers traced the outline, feeling Jared’s cock harden to its full, impressive length. A damp spot of precum already bloomed on the grey cotton. “You’re just… right here.”

He squeezed gently, and Jared’s breath hitched. His hips gave a tiny, involuntary thrust into Jordan’s hand. A low, deep moan rumbled in his chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated want. “Mmm, Yes!…”

Jordan’s own shorts were painfully tight, his six inches straining against the denim. He could feel his precum soaking into his boxers. The movie was forgotten, the world outside the room ceased to exist. There was only the heat of Jared’s body, the hard proof of his arousal under Jordan’s palm.

Jared’s hand came up, not to push him away, but to grip Jordan’s wrist, holding his hand right where it was. His eyes, dark and glazed with lust, met Jordan’s. The command was a raw, needy whisper.

“Put your mouth on it. Put my dick in your mouth.”

The words were a live wire. Jordan didn’t hesitate. He slid down the bed, his own desire a roaring fire in his veins. He tugged Jared’s sweatpants and boxers down in one swift motion, and Jared’s cock sprang free, thick and flushed and already dripping. Jordan didn’t tease. He opened his mouth and took him in, deep, swallowing him to the root in one smooth, wet glide.

The feeling was electric. The head of Jared’s cock hit the back of his throat, and Jordan relaxed, taking him all the way. He held there for a long, breathtaking moment, feeling Jared’s pulse throb against his tongue, savoring the muffled, guttural groan from above. He pulled back, a string of spit and precum connecting his lips to Jared’s slick shaft, then dove down again, deep-throating him with a desperate hunger.

He was lost in it. The taste of him, clean and musky. The sounds he was pulling from Jared’s throat. The way his own neglected cock ached and leaked in time with his bobbing head. He was messy, enthusiastic, spit and thick, snot-like slickness dripping down onto Jared’s balls, coating his own chin.

“Mmm, yes… just like that…” Jared panted, his hands tangling in Jordan’s hair, not guiding, just holding on.

Then came the next command, a ragged, desperate order that sent a fresh jolt of heat straight to Jordan’s core.

“Now sit on it! All the way down, take it all!"

Jordan scrambled up, his movements frantic. He stood on the mattress, straddling Jared’s hips. He looked down at Jared’s face, his best friend’s expression a mask of blissful anticipation. He reached behind himself, guiding the slick, hard length of Jared’s cock to his entrance. He was so ready, so open for him.

He didn’t lower himself slowly. He dropped, his full weight sinking down, taking every thick, hard inch in one breathtaking, brutal plunge.

A shared, guttural cry tore from both of them. The feeling of being filled so completely, so suddenly, was almost too much. Jordan’s head fell back, a strangled moan ripped from his lungs as he bottomed out, Jared’s hips pressed flush against his ass.

For a second, he just sat there, impaled, adjusting to the delicious, stretching fullness. Then instinct took over. His hands braced on Jared’s chest, and he began to move. He rode him, lifting himself up until just the tip remained inside, then slamming back down, taking him deep, over and over. The bedframe knocked a steady, rhythmic beat against the wall.

“Oh, fuck… fuck, Jared…” Jordan moaned, the words incoherent. He was pure sensation, a vessel for pleasure, every nerve ending screaming. He could feel the rough drag of Jared’s cock inside him, the slap of their skin, the way his own dick bounced, hard and neglected, with every frantic bounce.

Jared’s hands gripped his hips hard, fingers digging into his flesh, helping to piston him up and down. His eyes were shut tight, his own moans a continuous, low rumble. Fuck I love your hole. It feels so good… your ass is so fucking perfect… ride my dick, just like that…”

They were a sweaty, desperate tangle of limbs and pleasure, lost in their own world, the sounds of their fucking drowning out everything else. Jordan was close, so close, the coil of his orgasm tightening unbearably with every deep thrust.

He was mid-bounce, Jared buried to the hilt inside him, when a new sound cut through their passionate haze.

The distinct, unmistakable click of a door opening.

Jordan’s eyes flew open. His rhythm faltered. Still speared on Jared’s cock, he twisted his head, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

The bedroom door was wide open.

And standing in the doorway, his face a frozen mask of utter, shocked disbelief, was his stepdad. ScottFor a suspended moment, time stood still. Jordan’s wide, panicked eyes locked with Scott’s as he froze mid-stroke, still impaled on Jared’s cock. Scott’s gaze dropped, his face a mixture of shock and something Jordan couldn’t quite place, taking in the obscene sight of Jared’s thick shaft buried deep inside him. Then, slowly, his eyes traveled back up to meet Jordan’s again.

“I—I’m sorry for intruding,” Scott stammered, his voice uncharacteristically shaky.

As soon as the word “intruding” left his lips, Jordan’s body betrayed him. His cock, still hard and neglected, exploded in a series of thick, white ropes that shot across Jared’s face and chest. Jordan gasped, his entire body trembling as the orgasm ripped through him, involuntary and unstoppable.

Scott’s eyes widened impossibly further as he took in the scene—Jared’s face splattered with Jordan’s release, Jared’s cock pulsing deep inside Jordan’s quivering hole, pumping his own load into him. The room was thick with the sounds of their ragged breaths and the slick, wet mess of their coupling.

For a heartbeat, Scott stood there, utterly speechless, his face a mask of stunned disbelief. It was as if a jolt of electricity had hit him, snapping him out of his frozen state. Without another word, he turned abruptly and shut the door with a sharp click, leaving the boys alone in the aftermath of their interrupted passion.

Jordan’s heart pounded in his chest as he collapsed onto Jared, both of them still connected, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. “Oh my god,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Oh my god, did that just—”

Jared didn’t respond immediately, his face still glazed with Jordan’s release. He blinked slowly, his expression caught between shock and disbelief. “Yeah,” he finally muttered, his voice hoarse. “Yeah, that just happened.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what had just occurred pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket. Neither of them moved, their bodies still tangled together, their minds racing with the implications of what Scott had seen.

“What do we do now?” Jordan whispered.

 

[sneakbator]

Chapter 10

 

The silence in Jordan’s room was heavier than before, thick with the phantom scent of sex and the echoing click of the closing door. They dressed in a frantic, wordless hurry, their movements clumsy with adrenaline and shame. Every creak of the floorboards outside made them freeze, hearts hammering, waiting for the storm to break.

But the house remained silent.

Finally venturing out, they found the hallway empty. The living room, the kitchen—all deserted. Scott was gone. The only evidence he’d ever been there was the lingering, gut-churning memory of his shocked face.

“What do we even say?” Jared whispered, his voice tight as they stood by the side door, a buffer zone between the secret world of Jordan’s room and the real one outside. “We could say we were… I don’t know, wrestling? Practicing for a play?”

Jordan shook his head, a sick feeling churning in his stomach. “He saw everything, J. Everything. My… my cum on your face. You… inside me. There’s no explaining that away.” The image was seared into his brain, a brutal, pornographic snapshot.

Jared hesitated, then squared his shoulders. “I’ll stay. I’ll be here with you when you talk to him.”

“No,” Jordan said, the word coming out firmer than he felt. “I need to do this alone. He’s my…” He almost said ‘dad,’ but it wasn’t right. “…Stepdad. This is my mess.”

After Jared left, the house felt cavernous and accusing. Jordan paced, trying to script a conversation that always ended with an imaginary Scott’s face twisting in disgust. He was spiraling, his anxiety a live wire under his skin, when his eyes caught on the corkboard by the door.

A crisp, white notecard stood out amongst the pizza coupons and old photos. In Scott’s precise, blocky handwriting, it read: Jordan, need to talk. My office. 3pm. -Scott.

The clock read 2:28. His mouth went dry. This is it. The walk to Scott’s downtown office was a blur of nauseating dread. The sleek, modern reception area, the quiet hum of professionalism—it all felt like a bizarre dream. The secretary, offering a polite smile, led him back and closed the heavy oak door behind him, sealing him in.

Scott’s office was all rich leather and dark wood. And there he was, behind a massive desk, looking every inch the successful, composed forty-two-year-old man he was. He was handsome in a rugged, distinguished way, his broad frame filling out his tailored shirt, a dusting of dark hair visible at his open collar, his thick beard neatly trimmed. He looked up from some paperwork, his expression unreadable.

“Jordan. Have a seat.”

Jordan sat stiffly in the leather chair, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He could feel a fine tremor running through his body. He was near shaking, utterly laid bare.

Scott leaned forward, lacing his fingers together on the desk. His gaze was direct, but not unkind. “So,” he began, his voice calm, measured. “You and Jared, huh?”

Jordan’s throat was too tight to speak. He just nodded. Yes, sir.

“You two are… a couple?” Another slow, hesitant nod. The truth was the only card he had to play.

Scott watched him for a long moment, taking in his obvious terror. “So then you are… gay?”

This nod was the hardest. It felt like admitting to a crime. He braced for the fallout—the disappointment, the anger, the lecture.

Instead, Scott pushed his chair back and stood. He didn’t come around the desk with anger, but with a quiet purpose. He walked over and, without a word, wrapped his arms around Jordan in a firm, solid hug. It wasn’t a brief pat; it was a real embrace, strong and encompassing.

The dam broke. A ragged sob escaped Jordan’s lips, and his entire body went limp with the shocking wave of relief. He buried his face against Scott’s shoulder, the rough texture of the shirt wool soft against his cheek.

“It’s okay,” Scott murmured, his voice a low rumble so close to Jordan’s ear. “It’s okay, son. If that’s what makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”

The words were a balm, washing away the fear and shame. They talked for a while longer, Scott back behind his desk, a palpable shift in the room’s energy. Jordan, his voice steadier now, explained how it started after prom, how new it was, how it was just them figuring things out. Scott listened, nodding, asking a few gentle questions, his demeanor that of a concerned parent, not a condemning judge.

“I won’t tell your mom,” Scott said finally. “I’ll let you do that when you want and are ready. That’s your news to share.”

That evening, after a strangely normal family dinner where Jordan could barely meet his mother’s eye, he retreated to the back patio. The night air was cool, a relief against his skin. He heard the sliding door open and turned to see Scott stepping out, two glasses of amber whiskey in his hands.

He handed one to Jordan and took the seat beside him, the old patio chairs creaking under their weight. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, sipping the strong, smoky liquor.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Scott said, breaking the quiet. “Your happiness is what matters.” He took a long swallow from his glass. “But seeing you two today… it stirred something up in me. Something I haven’t thought about in a long, long time.”

Jordan stayed quiet, letting him talk, his own curiosity piqued.

Scott stared out into the dark yard, his profile strong in the dim light. “I want to tell you something. Something from my past. Back before I met your mother. Back in college.” He turned his head, his eyes meeting Jordan’s, and in their depths, Jordan saw a flicker of the same hungry intensity he’d seen in Blake’s eyes, but tempered by age and experience. A shared secret.

“There was this guy on my football team,” Scott began, his voice dropping, becoming almost confidential. “My roommate, actually. His name was Mike. We were inseparable. Just like you and Jared.” He took another slow sip of whiskey, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “And one night, after a huge win, we were celebrating. Just the two of us in our dorm room, drunk on victory and way too much cheap beer…”

He trailed off, a faint, nostalgic smile touching his lips. “We started wrestling around, like guys do. Just messing around. But then… it changed. It got… heavier. More intense.” Scott’s gaze was locked on Jordan now, unwavering. “I ended up pinning him down on the floor. We were both breathing hard, laughing at first. But then we just… stopped. We were looking at each other. And I could feel him, hard against my leg. And I knew he could feel me, too.”

Jordan’s breath hitched. The whiskey felt like fire in his veins. He couldn’t look away.

“I don’t know which one of us moved first,” Scott continued, his voice a low, intimate rumble. “But we kissed. It was… man, it was explosive. All that competitive energy, that pent-up… everything, just unleashed.” He leaned forward slightly, his elbow resting on his knee, the glass dangling from his fingers. “We spent the whole night exploring each other. It was fierce, and hungry, and so damn confusing. But it felt more real than anything I’d ever experienced with a girl.”

He finally broke eye contact, looking down into his glass. “We were together, in secret, for the rest of the school year. It was the most passionate, electric time of my life.” He sighed, a heavy, weighted sound. “But then summer came. He went back home to his girlfriend. I met your mom. We never talked about it again. We just… went back to our lives.”

Scott looked back up at Jordan, and his expression was raw, open. “Seeing you and Jared today… it was like watching a ghost of my own past. That raw need. That total surrender. It… awakened something in me I thought I’d buried for good.” He reached out, his large, warm hand covering Jordan’s where it rested on the arm of the chair. The contact was electric. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I understand.

More than you could possibly know.”

 

[sneakbator]

Chapter 11

 

The warm weight of Scott’s hand on his, the raw honesty of his story, the smoky burn of the whiskey—it all coalesced into a single, throbbing point of heat in Jordan’s gut. He was completely unaware of the effect it was having on his body, the blood rushing south so fast it left him lightheaded. His thin basketball shorts, worn without underwear as always, provided no defense. A fierce, six-inch erection tented the fabric, the tip already damp with a bead of precum that seeped through the grey cotton, leaving a tiny, dark patch.

He only realized his own state when he traced Scott’s gaze. Those dark, intense eyes weren’t on his face anymore. They were fixed, unblinking, on the prominent bulge in his lap. Jordan’s own eyes flicked down, then back up to Scott’s khakis. A mirror image. A thick, heavy outline strained against the tan fabric, unmistakable and just as eager.

Seconds stretched, thick and silent, charged with a current so potent Jordan could barely breathe. Scott was the one to break it, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that vibrated through the space between them. “I’ve been like this,” he admitted, his eyes flicking back up to meet Jordan’s, “Hard as a goddamn rock… all day. Ever since I…” He didn’t need to finish. Ever since I saw you.

Something primal and fearless uncoiled inside Jordan, speaking with a voice that wasn’t entirely his own. “Did you like it?” The question hung in the air, bold and naked. “What you saw? You...want to see more?”

Scott’s answer was immediate, a raw exhalation. “Yes.”

A thrill, sharp and electric, shot down Jordan’s spine. “My room,” he whispered, the plan forming in a hazy, lust-drunk instant. “Wait until Mom’s asleep. Come to my room.”

An hour later, the house was dark and silent. The soft click of his door opening sent Jordan’s heart into a wild rhythm. Scott stood there, silhouetted in the doorway, having traded his button-down for a simple pair of black gym shorts that did little to hide the formidable swell of his cock. He stepped inside and closed the door with a quiet, final sound.

Jordan’s nerves were a live wire, his hands trembling slightly. He didn’t know what he was doing, only what he wanted. He fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, his thumb swiping until he found the video. He turned the screen toward Scott.

It was the clip Jared had recorded. Jordan on his knees, lips stretched around Blake’s thick, curved cock, his eyes rolled back in pleasure.

Scott’s eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat. He stared, mesmerized, as the movie played out on the small screen. Jordan watched him instead, studying the rapid flicker of emotions on his stepdad’s face: shock, hunger, pure, unadulterated lust. His own hand slipped inside his shorts, fingers wrapping around his aching hardness. A soft groan escaped his lips as he gave himself a slow, slick stroke.

Scott’s gaze snapped from the screen to Jordan’s hand moving under his shorts. That was all the permission he needed. With a guttural sound, Scott’s large hand plunged into his own gym shorts. His eyes fell shut for a moment, his head tipping back as his fist began to move, the fabric stretching and tightening over his frantic motion.

He was the first to break the barrier. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he pushed his shorts down his powerful thighs in one rough motion. His cock sprang free, and Jordan’s mouth went dry. It was massive, thick and cut, rising from a dense thatch of dark hair. Heavy balls swung beneath it, already drawn up tight. A glistening pearl of precum already crowned the slit.

Emboldened, Jordan mimicked him, shoving his own shorts down to his ankles. They stood there, just feet apart, their erections bobbing in the dim light, the only sound their ragged breathing and the wet, rhythmic stroking of their own fists.

Scott’s eyes were locked on Jordan’s smaller, slick cock, watching the way his hand glided over the flushed head with each pass. “So wet,” Scott murmured, his own strokes becoming louder, slicker, sloppy sounding.

“You too,” Jordan breathed out, mesmerized by the sheer, glistening size of the older man, by the way his thick fingers struggled to close around his girth. The visual was overwhelming—the contrast of their bodies, the [banned word] of it all, the raw hunger in Scott’s eyes. His hips began to thrust forward, fucking his own fist. “Fuck, this is so hot.”

“Yeah, it has to be our little secret.” Scott grunted, his pace increasing, his other hand cupping and roughly kneading his heavy balls. “Just like that. Show me. Let me see you get off.”

The command, so similar to Jared’s yet so entirely different, sent Jordan spiraling. His back arched, his free hand gripping his own thigh for support. He was close, so close, teetering on the edge. Scott was breathing in harsh gasps, his muscular body tensing, a sheen of sweat coating his chest.

“I’m close, I'm so close. I'm cumm…!” Jordan choked out, his orgasm roaring up from his toes.

Scott’s hand flew off his own cock and clamped over his own mouth, stifling a deep, guttural roar as his hips thrust into empty air. Thick, white ropes of cum shot from his pulsating cock, landing in his own waiting palm, pumping again and again until his hand was overflowing.

The sight was Jordan’s undoing. With a cry that was half-sob, half-moan, his own release tore through him. His cum splattered across his stomach and thighs in hot, frantic spurts, his entire body trembling with the force of it.

For a long moment, the only sound was their heavy, spent panting. Scott, still holding his messy hand away from himself, gathered his composure with a sharp, almost military precision. He cleaned himself with a tissue from the nightstand, pulled up his shorts, and without another word, turned and left the room, made the "Shh" gesture wit his finger to his mouth, closing the door softly behind him.

Jordan collapsed back onto his bed, the scent of sex and whiskey and man thick in the air. His mind was a blissful, overloaded blank. Exhaustion pulled him under, and he fell into a deep, instant sleep, his body sated and his world irrevocably changed.