Chapter 3
Troy’s eyes go wide for a second, the smug grin faltering. I think he’s just as surprised as I am that I’m actually calling his bluff. He expected me to back down. To look at his big dick and let that be the end of it.
“Whoa, Connor, hang on. Didn’t we agree this is weird?”
“That was before you pulled out the heavy artillery. You can’t just whip this thing out and not expect a reaction. You basically dared me.”
“Okay, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually…”
He trails off as I scoot closer, hands on my thighs.
His dick is right there, inches from my face.
I can smell the clean, musky scent of him.
Heat radiates off it. It’s so much more detailed up close.
Every vein visible, the texture of the skin, the way the foreskin pulls back at the head. A bead of clear fluid wells at the tip.
“What, you just wanted to show off? That’s it?” I look up at him. “All that talk about how messing around with dudes just makes sense. No bullshit, no expectations. Helping each other out. Or were you full of shit?”
He’s looming over me, his broad chest rising and falling faster now.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Those green eyes I know all too well are boring into mine, trying to figure out where this is coming from.
I don’t know either. But I’m here now, on my knees in front of him. There’s no way back. Only forward.
“Shit, Connor, this is a bad idea.” But his cock twitches as he says it, bobbing toward me. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“No, I’m definitely not thinking straight right now. There’s nothing straight about any of this. It’s the gayest thing I’ve ever done. But fuck, man, you made me curious.”
I reach out slowly, giving him every chance to stop me. To push my hand away. To pull up his sweatpants. To laugh it all off. But he doesn’t. He just watches as my fingers get closer and closer.
And finally, I touch it. Just with one finger, tracing one of the prominent veins running along the shaft.
It’s warmer than I imagined. Velvety smooth over the hardness underneath.
I can feel it pulsing beneath the skin. Troy’s whole body tenses when I curl my fingers around it, my thumb not quite reaching all the way around.
“Jesus,” he breathes.
“You’re getting harder.”
“Yeah. No shit.”
I give it a tentative squeeze, sliding my hand up and down the shaft, feeling the skin move with my grip. Troy makes a low sound in the back of his throat. His knuckles are white where he’s gripping the couch cushion.
It feels strange to touch a cock that isn’t my own.
Familiar and foreign at the same time. The weight of it.
The thickness. The way it responds to my touch.
I know exactly what this feels like from the other side, but holding it without feeling it myself is a whole new experience.
I have to find my way by watching Troy’s reactions, listening to the little sounds he’s trying to hold back.
I work my way down to the base, then back up to the head, my thumb tracing the ridge of the crown. I swipe at the bead of liquid welling at the tip, smearing it across the sensitive skin. His hips jerk forward, pushing into my fist.
“Fuck, Con…”
I look up at him. His head is tilted back, exposing the line of his throat. His eyes are closed. His lips are parted. He looks vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before. The cocky, confident roommate who always has a witty comeback is gone, replaced by a guy who just wants his dick sucked.
And that’s what I’m about to do. I can hardly believe it myself, even as I lean in closer, my breath ghosting over the slick head of his cock. But the need to stuff it in my mouth is surprisingly strong. I realize I’m actually salivating.
I scoot even closer until my knees are pressed against the base of the couch. Troy’s legs are splayed, giving me all the room I need. I take one last look at him, at the flushed skin of his chest, at the rigid way he’s holding himself, before I lower my head and close my lips around the tip.
Holy shit. Okay. That’s… that’s really something.
An explosion of taste, salty and bitter and sweet all at once.
The skin is impossibly soft, the texture of it against my tongue like silk.
I take a little more into my mouth, running my tongue along the underside, tracing that prominent vein.
Troy lets out a shaky breath, and I feel a surge of pride.
I’m doing that to him. I’m the one making him breathe like that.
I dive in again, this time with more purpose. I get the head in my mouth, my tongue swirling around it, before I start to push down. My jaw stretches immediately. And that’s just the head. Jesus. He wasn’t kidding about not being a good starter dick. This is an advanced course.
There’s a chuckle above me. “Told you so.”
I pull back slightly, just enough to talk.
“Shut the fuck up.” Then I go back down, determined to take more.
I don’t know why it’s so important, but I have this stupid competitive streak that flares up whenever Troy challenges me.
Usually, it’s about video games or lifting heavier at the gym.
Now it’s about how much of his cock I can fit in my mouth. It’s ridiculous, but here we are.
I grip the base with my hand, sealing it off where my mouth can’t reach.
I work him like that, bobbing my head up and down, my tongue doing its best to keep up.
Every time I take him a little deeper, my jaw aches a little more.
Every time, I hear something from him. A grunt.
A gasp. A soft, “oh, fuck.” I’m getting into it.
More than I thought I would. Because it’s addicting, too.
Plugging my throat with dick. Feeling it get harder, thicker.
“Not bad for a beginner,” Troy pants, his voice strained. “Not bad at all.”
Not bad? Fuck that. I can do better. I look up at him, our eyes meeting with him in my mouth. I don’t break eye contact as I push down, trying to take him deeper than before. The tip nudges the back of my throat, and I start gagging. My eyes water, and I have to pull back, coughing.
Whoa. Okay. That was too much. My throat is spasming, and I take a couple of deep breaths. A string of spit connects my lower lip to the tip of his dick, glistening in the morning light streaming through our cheap blinds.
Troy leans forward. “Easy, man. Don’t choke yourself out.”
I shake my head, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to deepthroat me, bro. You’ve already proved your point.”
“What point?”
“That you’re a fast learner,” he says with a grin. “And that you’re not as straight as I thought you were.”
I don’t say anything to that. Because he’s right. A straight guy doesn’t get on his knees for his friend and then get disappointed when he can’t take it all. A hundred percent straight dude doesn’t look up at his roommate with a mouthful of cock and think, more.
But I’m not about to confess how much I’m enjoying this. That’d be giving Troy way too much ammunition. He’d never let me live it down. This is just a supplement, like he said. A way to bust a nut. Nothing more.
“You know that I’m doing this so that you’ll owe me one later, right?” I say.
“Bullshit. You’re doing this because you wanted to. I said it was a bad idea. You’re the one who insisted.”
“You’re the one who whipped it out and challenged me.”
“Okay, fair enough.” He grins. “We both played a part.”
“Damn straight.”
“And to show I appreciate you taking the plunge… stand up.”
“What?”
“Stand up.” He gestures with his head. “Let’s even the playing field. Get your dick out, bro.”
I get to my feet, my knees cracking. That’s when I notice the tent in my own sweatpants. I’m hard as a fucking rock. I was so focused on Troy that I didn’t even register the erection straining against the fabric.
Troy smirks. “Well, look at that. Seems like someone’s enjoying himself more than he’s letting on.”
“Shut up.” I hook my thumbs under the waistband and push my pants down. My dick springs free like it’s been in prison. Jesus fuck. There’s precum everywhere. The inside of my sweats is soaked, the tip leaking like a broken faucet. I feel my face flush.
“Dude, you’re dripping like a motherfucker,” Troy says, reaching out to swipe a finger over the head. He brings it to his lips and licks it clean. “Sweet.”
Without warning, he leans forward and takes me into his mouth.
And oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. That’s Troy’s tongue.
That’s Troy’s mouth. Troy’s stubble against my thighs.
Troy is blowing me. Right here in our living room.
He’s swallowing the sword. Gobbling the knob.
Polishing the family jewels. A billion stupid euphemisms flash through my head, but none of them do it justice. It’s just so fucking good. Too good.
No. Wait. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. I feel the familiar tightening in my balls, the surge of heat in my spine, way too fast.
“Troy—” I try to pull back, my hand going to his shoulder. “Wait, I’m gonna—”
But it’s too late. My whole body locks up.
My vision whites out. My legs turn to jelly.
I’m gasping for breath, my hips thrusting forward, my fingers digging into Troy’s shoulders as the orgasm rips through me.
I pulse again and again, emptying myself down his throat in a desperate, shuddering release.
He swallows it all, his throat working around me, and when I’m finally spent, he pulls back with a wet pop, wiping a stray drop from the corner of his mouth. He looks at me with big, surprised eyes.
“Jesus, Connor, that was fast.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“Nah, it’s cool.” He gives my now-softening dick a playful tap. “Guess I’m just that good.”
My face is burning. I just came in my friend’s mouth in under thirty seconds like some virgin getting his first blowjob. This is beyond mortifying.
I sink onto the couch next to him, my dick still out, my brain fuzzy from the orgasm. I need to salvage this. I need to prove I’m not some two-pump chump.
Troy’s grinning at me, looking way too satisfied with himself, and I realize with a sinking feeling that I’ve just given him ammunition for the rest of our lives.
“Don’t,” I warn him.
“Don’t what?” His grin widens.
“Whatever you’re about to say. Just don’t.”
He leans back, stretching his arms along the back of the couch. Then he tucks his still-hard dick back into his sweatpants, adjusting himself with a wince. “Wasn’t gonna say anything.”
I should offer to finish him off. That’s the whole point, right? Helping each other out. But my brain is mush right now, all the post-orgasm chemicals flooding my system. I feel drained. Literally. I just want to lie here for a moment.
“Sorry,” I mutter, gesturing at his crotch. “I can…”
“Nah, you’re good.” He waves me off. “I’ll take care of it later. You look like you’re about to pass out.” He picks up one of the controllers and tosses it into my lap. “You want to get destroyed in another round, or are you gonna go take a nap?”
I look at him from the side. At those green eyes, the stubble darkening his jaw, the breadth of his shoulders. The way he’s just sitting there as if nothing happened, casual as ever, like we hadn’t just had each other’s dicks in our mouths. Like we didn’t just cross a line we can never uncross.
And the weirdest part? I want to curl up next to him right now. Feel the warmth of his body against mine. The sweat on his skin. I want his arms wrapped around me, holding me close—his breath on my neck.
The fuck? I shake the thoughts away, my stomach clenching. This is not what I signed up for. I signed up for a blowjob. A supplement. Getting off. Not this… whatever this is.
I need to get my shit together before things spiral out of control.
“Bring it on,” I say, grabbing the controller. “You’re going down this round.”