Chapter 3
Nothing happens.
I’m standing there, hips pressed against the partition, my dick hanging in the dark on the other side, and there’s… nothing. Cool air. That’s it. No warm mouth. No eager tongue. Not even a goddamn courtesy stroke.
Of course. What did I expect? My dick is no match for Jace’s.
The stranger on the other side probably took one look at my average offering and recoiled in disgust. Maybe they left the booth entirely.
Or they’re over there, wiping their mouth, lamenting the downgrade, waiting for that perfect cut of meat to come back.
“And?” Jace is right behind me, a little closer than I’d expected, his warm breath fanning my ear. “What’s it feel like?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. “There’s nobody there.”
“You sure? Push it all the way through.”
I’m already flush against the wall. There’s nowhere left to push. My balls are pressed against the wood.
“I am.”
“Maybe you gotta knock or something.”
“Knock? Are you serious? You didn’t have to knock.”
“Well, we switched. Maybe that’s the etiquette. Glory hole protocol.”
I’d laugh at that if I wasn’t so mortified. But I’m not knocking. I’m not tapping on the wall to beg for some stranger’s attention. I’d rather die a virgin than humiliate myself that badly.
“Hold on.” Jace leans past me and raps twice on the partition. “Yo. Got another one for you.”
“Dude,” I hiss. “What the fuck?”
“What? I’m helping.”
I’m about to pull out and tell him to go fuck himself when a hand grabs me.
Roughly. It’s not a girl’s hand. I can tell instantly.
It’s a big, calloused hand that clamps around my shaft with a confident grip.
A gasp tears out of me. My knees buckle.
I have to slam my palm flat against the wall to stay upright.
Jace chuckles. “See? Told you.”
“Shut up,” I breathe.
The stranger’s thumb brushes over the tip of my cock, smearing the bead of wetness there, and sparks shoot down my spine.
Then the hand starts to move. Firm strokes from base to tip, expert pressure, twisting just right on the upstroke.
The calluses rasp against my skin, a rough friction I’ve never felt before, nothing like my own soft hands.
This is someone who does manual labor. Someone strong.
I bite down on my lip, trapping a sound in my throat that Jace can never hear.
This feels… fuck. Better than anything I’ve ever done to myself.
My dick has never been this sensitive, this alive.
I’m leaking all over the place, and the stranger uses it as lube, slicking up and down my shaft, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet booth.
Then the hand disappears. As suddenly as it grabbed me, it’s gone. I’m left hanging in the cool air again, aching, desperate. A pathetic, needy sound catches in my throat. My hips twitch forward, searching, but there’s nothing to find.
Maybe it was a courtesy stroke after all. A quick pump before they decided I wasn’t worth the effort. After Jace, they probably expected more, and I’m just—oh God. Oh, sweet baby Jesus.
A heat engulfs me. Ridiculously soft, impossibly slick, furnace-hot. A mouth. It has to be a mouth, and it’s on my dick. I slam both palms against the wall, my whole body shaking. This time, I can’t keep it in: a strangled cry rips out of my chest.
“There you go!” Jace slaps my shoulder. “Told you they’re good at this.”
I want to tell him to keep his voice down, that they can hear him on the other side, but I’ve lost the ability to form words.
The tongue is the worst part. The best part.
The most agonizing, blissful, terrifying part.
It drags along the underside of my shaft, swirls around the head, probes the slit, traces the ridge.
It leaves no inch of me untouched. Then the mouth starts moving, taking me deeper, deeper, until I feel the tight clutch of a throat around my tip.
A muffled moan hums through my cock, sending vibrations straight to my balls.
Jesus fuck. The guy, because I’m one hundred percent certain it’s a guy, is deep-throating me.
He swallows every drop of precum leaking out of me.
And he’s moaning. I’m the one making him moan.
My average, six-inch dick that’s failed me so many times is buried in some dude’s throat, and he’s loving it.
I can’t process it. The purple light swims. My vision goes spotty.
“That’s it, Luca,” Jace growls. “Fuck that mouth.”
Since when does Jace talk to me like that? And since when do I not mind?
My hips obey before my brain catches up.
A shallow thrust, then another. The stranger takes it.
Welcomes it. Moans around me, urging me on, and I lose all control.
I start to fuck the hole like a wild animal, rutting into that heat, my balls slapping against the wood, my breath coming in broken sobs. I’ve never felt anything so good.
And Jace is right there. Watching. Listening. Standing awfully close. I feel the heat radiating off him, smell the clean sweat on his skin.
“Yeah, bro,” he groans. “Look at you go.”
I risk a glance at him. His hard cock is still out, jutting from that thatch of dark hair. He’s stroking himself lazily, eyes fixed on the place where I disappear into the wall. A muscle in his jaw ticks. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat. I’ve never seen him look like this.
He looks so… hot. Probably not a word I should be using about my best friend.
But it’s true. In this weird purple light, all sweaty and tensed up, he’s gorgeous.
The way his teeth dig into his bottom lip.
The flush creeping up his neck. The dark stains spreading under his arms. My gaze drifts to the lightning bolt on his forearm—our matching mark.
Then lower. To his cock, the swollen head disappearing into his grip and reappearing, slick with fluid.
“Are you…” I start, but the words die in a gasp as the stranger sucks hard.
Jace’s eyes flick to mine. His pupils are blown wide. “Am I what?”
“Watching?” I grind out. Stupid question. He’s obviously watching.
He grins. “Course I’m watching. My boy finally getting some. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
But isn’t it weird that you’re jerking off to it, is what I actually want to ask.
That you’re standing less than a foot away, fisting your cock while a stranger sucks mine.
Aren’t we crossing a line here? A dozen lines?
The words are there, on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t get them out. Because I don’t want him to stop.
God help me, I like it. I like having him this close. I like his eyes on me, his arousal mirroring mine.
I’ve always assumed Jace was straight as an arrow. He’s never hinted otherwise. But he has no problem with a dude on the other side, and he’s getting off on watching me with one… he’s clearly more flexible than I thought. And that fucks with my head.
Then again, it could just be the thrill. The adrenaline. I’m probably reading too much into it. He’s just a horny twenty-year-old who’ll take a nut however he can get it.
But if Jace really doesn’t care who’s on the other side… then maybe he won’t care if…
No. I can’t. I absolutely cannot.
A crazy, fucked-up idea takes root. This is so far from anything I would ever do that my pulse spikes just thinking about it.
But that’s the thing. Jace has always brought out a side of me I can’t access on my own.
The side that gets tattoos on a whim, that jumps off cliffs, that sticks his dick through a hole in a wall.
And right now, that version of me is running the show.
I pull out, panting, my dick slick and spit-shined and achingly hard. A muffled whine of protest comes from the other side of the wall.
“Your turn,” I tell Jace, tucking myself back into my briefs with shaking hands.
He grins. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” He takes my place at the partition, already lining himself up. A groan rumbles out of him as he pushes through.
“Hey, uh, I’m gonna take a leak,” I say. “Be right back.”
“Taking a piss with a hard-on? Good luck with that.”
“Yeah, well.” I shrug. “I’ll manage.”
“Hurry back,” he grunts, eyes already glazing over. “Don’t want you to miss the finale.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
I slip out of the booth. The door clicks shut behind me. I lean against it for a second, trying to catch my breath. My fingertips are tingling.
This is insane. This is the single most insane thing I’ve ever considered. I can’t believe I’m even thinking about it. But my dick is throbbing, my balls are aching, and all rational thought has been chased out of my brain by a dizzying wave of lust.
I look left, then right. The back area is massive, almost as big as the store itself.
The hallway stretches in both directions, lined with booth doors on either side.
A few hang open, spilling purple light onto the sticky floor.
Muffled groans seep through the thin walls. A whole fucking playground back here.
Then, with my heart pounding in my ears, I step up to the booth next door. The one on the other side of the partition. The one where, right now, someone is on their knees with my best friend’s cock in their mouth.
I stare at the door. My stomach is doing backflips. This is a terrible idea. The worst idea I’ve ever had, and I once ate a ghost pepper on camera.
I raise my fist.
And I knock.