Stick It Through (Gay Shorts MMM+ #1)

Chapter 1

“Stick it through, then,” Jace says.

“What? No way!”

“Why not?”

I stare at the hole in the wall. It’s about the size of a fist, cut into the partition between two booths. Waist height, smooth edges, a perfect circle in the wood. On the other side, there’s only darkness.

“Because,” I say, “why would anyone do that?”

“It’s a glory hole, Luca.”

“I know what it is, Jace. I’m not a moron.”

“Then you also know what you’re supposed to do with it.” He wiggles those bushy eyebrows at me in the dim purple glow of the booth. “So do it.”

I glance past him at the hole. It’s so dark. A gaping, hungry void. Beyond it, someone could be watching us right now. Could’ve been watching us this whole time. An uncomfortable prickle runs through me, half fear, half curiosity.

“Absolutely not. We’re in a public place.”

“Precisely.” He beams. “You’re finally catching on.”

“Seriously, Jace. What if…” I lower my voice, all too aware that other people back here could overhear every word. “What if it’s a dude on the other side?”

He shrugs. “It’s anonymous, Luca. That’s the point. Doesn’t matter who it is, as long as they know what they’re doing. Just close your eyes and picture some hot chick. Like… what was her name? The one from Psych with the big tits.”

“Cassidy.”

“That’s the one. Think of Cassidy.”

“As if Cassidy would ever—”

“Hey.” He nudges me. “I saw movement. I’m telling you, there’s someone in there.”

My eyes dart back to the hole. For a second, I imagine going through with it.

Unzipping my jeans, pulling my dick out, sliding it through that dark circle into nothing but cool air, and then…

what? A warm, wet mouth? A tongue tracing my shaft?

Maybe some long nails scratching my balls.

I try to picture Cassidy on her knees, and it’s beyond ridiculous.

Cassidy with her perfect makeup, her blown-out blonde hair, her pearl earrings.

She wouldn’t be caught dead in some sketchy sex shop.

“You’re thinking about it,” Jace whispers.

“Shut up.”

“You know you want to, Luca. You’ve been complaining about being horny for weeks.”

“We came here to buy gag gifts for Kyle’s birthday.”

“Yeah. But now that we’re here, we might as well enjoy ourselves.” Jace slaps the partition. “You’re really gonna pass up this opportunity?”

My gaze hasn’t left the hole. Something about it pulls at me, some dumb curiosity I can’t shake.

The thrill. The danger. The not knowing.

I picture someone sitting in the next booth, waiting.

What do they even do when nobody sticks their cock through, a crossword puzzle?

Just sit there like a tollbooth operator until the next dick shows up?

I could give them what they’re waiting for. I could scratch this weird itch that’s suddenly crawling under my skin.

But not in front of Jace. I’m not pulling my dick out with him standing two feet away, watching me, waiting for me to perform like some circus monkey. No way.

“I have standards,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “Believe it or not.”

“Do you?” Even in the dim light, I can see him raise that eyebrow.

“Do you really? Maybe you need to lower those standards and finally get your dick wet. You’re nineteen, dude.

Stop being so uptight.” He grins that dopey grin of his, dimple and all.

I’ve seen girls lose their minds over it.

And fine, objectively, I get why. Jace is a handsome fucker.

Tall, athletic, dark hair that’s always falling into those deep green eyes.

But right now I want to punch that grin right off his face.

“Fuck you.”

He’s right, though. That’s the worst part.

He’s right. I am horny. Nineteen and still a virgin.

Pathetic. I’m tired of being the only one in our group who has nothing to contribute when the guys start swapping stories.

Jace alone could write a novel on the subject, and even Kyle, who’s about as smooth as sandpaper, managed to lose it sophomore year.

All I’ve got are fumbled attempts and a palm full of lotion.

College is supposed to be the time. Everyone says so.

I’m supposed to be racking up body counts, living my best life, hooking up with a different girl every weekend.

But every time one grinds on me at a party, every time one backs me into a corner and reaches into my jeans, I’m soft.

Useless. And I can’t explain it. She’s hot, she’s willing, so what gives?

Why does my dick refuse to cooperate? Performance anxiety, I guess.

Fear of letting her down. That I’ll be bad.

That she’ll tell everyone. Whatever. The whole thing makes me sick.

“Why don’t you do it, then? If it’s so great?” I snap.

“Oh, I will, bro.” He winks, then lowers his voice. “I was just giving you first dibs, is all.”

“Generous.”

I cross my arms and lean against the partition, waiting for him to back down.

Because yeah, Jace is a player. He’ll fuck anything with a pulse and a ponytail.

But this? Whipping it out in some grimy back area with his best friend standing right there?

When it could be some dude on the other side? No way. Even he has limits.

But he doesn’t back down. Instead, he reaches for the waistband of his sweats. I wait for the punchline. The laugh. The “got you, bro.” It doesn’t come. He pulls the drawstring loose and tugs his sweats down to his thighs, like this is something we do all the damn time.

I should look away. That’s what you do when your buddy drops his pants.

Look away, give him some privacy. But I don’t.

I stare at the bulge in his boxer briefs, at the way the white fabric stretches over the shape of him.

I can’t tell if he’s half hard already or if he’s just that big.

My breath catches, and I force myself to look at his face instead. He’s grinning. Cocky bastard.

He reaches for the waistband of his boxer briefs, thumbs hooking under the elastic, and my hand shoots out before I even think about it. I grab his wrist. “Whoa, hold on.”

“What?”

“You’re not really gonna do this, are you?” My voice comes out a little thin.

He pries my fingers off him. “Watch me.”

“Wait.” The word comes out as a gasp. “You don’t know who’s over there, man.”

“Damn, Luca. Two years I’ve known you, and I’m only now finding out you’re this much of a prude.” He shoves his boxer briefs down enough to free himself.

And wow. Okay. That’s… yeah. That’s a dick.

A big one. He isn’t even hard yet, but he’s thick, thicker than me, longer too, curving slightly to the left with a dark thatch of hair at the base.

He curls a hand around the shaft and gives himself a few lazy pumps.

The purple glow catches the wetness beading at the tip.

Then he turns toward the wall, shoves his hips forward, and slides right into the hole.