The Winger (Lincoln Knights #4)

Chapter One

Danny

I was really starting to think that I might like dick, and I had no idea what to do about it.

I’d spent years trying to ignore all the cocks in porn and yet here I was, pulling up bisexual threesomes on Pornhub and dismissing all the voices in my brain that told me this was a bad idea.

No, a bad idea had been downloading Grindr on Valentine’s Day and throwing myself in headfirst without checking how deep the water was. Being curious about dick was one thing, but that had been a whole new level of fuck-assery, even for me.

Of course, I’d chickened out as soon as someone had messaged me, deleted the app, and debated buying myself a whole new phone, as if people would know what I’d done just by looking at me. But it still didn’t mean I hadn’t tried it.

That’d been the first night I’d started down the rabbit hole of regularly watching guys fucking, and now I was in so deep I didn’t know how to get out.

I didn’t even know if I wanted to.

Glancing at my bedroom door as if I somehow expected a non-existent roommate to come strolling in, I quickly found my favourite video and hit play. It would have been easier to bookmark it or some shit, but I still had this random fear that someone I knew would see it and start asking questions.

Which was ridiculous really, because it wasn’t like anyone else ever looked at my phone.

Except maybe Charlie when he was being a cheapskate and ordering food on my Deliveroo, but he’d never gone poking around.

And it wasn’t like I ever left tabs open anyway, so he’d have had to go into my browser history to find it and that was too much effort when he was just looking for pizza and chips.

The screen filled with the familiar scene of a slim, pretty girl on a sofa with two guys, both in tank tops and loose shorts that I could definitely see a dick print through.

They were both muscular with short hair, and one of them had loads of traditional American-style tattoos down his arms and legs—pin-ups, hearts, flowers, anchors, and swallows, that sort of shit.

I still wasn’t sure if I found them hot or not, but to be fair, I wasn’t really looking at them that much.

I was too busy watching his cock fuck in and out of the woman’s mouth, his balls bouncing slightly as he thrust.

The other guy had his face buried in her pussy, but when he knelt on the sofa to push his cock inside her, he leant over and kissed the tattooed man hard, the two of them making out as they fucked her.

My hand gripped my own cock, stroking slowly as I stared in desperate fascination. I’d watched this video more times than I could count, and every time I wondered how it would feel if one of the guys kissed me like that.

Or if I was the one in the middle, instead of the girl.

I swallowed as the scene cut to another position with the tattooed guy on the bottom, the other guy in the middle, and the woman on top, riding him. The guy in the middle was moaning loudly as the tattooed man fucked his arse, his own cock buried deep in the woman’s pussy.

The first few times I’d watched this, that was the part I’d tried to focus on: how her wet pussy looked stretched around his thick shaft.

But it hadn’t been doing it for me. So I’d given up looking at that.

And now all my attention was focused on the way the tattooed man thrust his thick dick into the other man’s hole and how both men looked utterly lost in pleasure.

Did it really feel that good?

I mean, fucking him must have done. His arse probably felt hot and tight, squeezing around the tattooed man’s shaft until he couldn’t take it anymore.

But being penetrated? Was it really that good or were they faking for the camera?

Normally, my money would have been squarely on option two: fake as fuck. But recently… there were a few things I’d seen and heard that made me think it might not be as weird as I’d always thought.

I was pretty sure at least two of my teammates got fucked regularly, and they wouldn’t do it if they didn’t enjoy it. Would they? No. I mean, given what I’d heard Jonny and Devon doing in the changing room toilets at least once—when I’d gone back for my boots that I’d forgotten—Devon loved it.

I hadn’t told anyone what I’d heard, and I’d actively tried to forget about the way my dick had immediately chubbed up when I’d realised what was going on. But if I closed my eyes, I could still hear Devon’s begging and moaning and the slap of skin on skin.

And then there were the love bites plastered all over Devon’s inner thighs, and going up into his underwear, which had been really bloody obvious when he was getting changed in the dressing room. He clearly enjoyed whatever Jonny was doing to him, so that had to mean something.

I’d thought about asking him about it but since I usually put my foot in it as soon as I opened my mouth, I’d kept my trap shut.

Especially because I’d probably admit hearing them, and if I did that then there was a really fucking good chance my face would go bright red.

If I was lucky, they’d take it as me being embarrassed.

If I wasn’t, they’d figure out I’d gone straight home and jerked off furiously to the echoes of their moaning bouncing around in my head.

“That’s it, slut, fucking take it all,” the tattooed man on screen growled, his hands gripping the other man’s waist. “Such pretty fucking pussies, both of you.”

A small groan slipped out of me as my hand tightened on my cock, my thighs spreading as I bucked up.

I didn’t think I should’ve found those words as hot as I did, but fuck, they just did something to me.

I slid my other hand between my legs while my eyes remained glued to the screen, watching as the scene cut so the guy in the middle was on his knees eating the girl out while being fucked by the tattooed god behind him.

Okay, yeah, the tattoos were hot as balls.

Especially the way they ran all the way up his thighs and across his arse… which was firm and muscular, flexing as he drove his cock deep into his partner’s hole and making him cry out.

I rolled my balls between my fingers, another moan dripping from my tongue as I teased them. Then I slowly let my hand drift a little further south. I kept my eyes focused on the video, my other hand stroking my cock as my middle finger brushed across the furled skin of my hole.

I gasped and tensed, my body freezing for a second like it expected something to happen. Nothing did. If I’d been waiting for a magical sign either way that I was going to love or loathe having my butt touched, I wasn’t going to get one.

I didn’t hate it, though, so I ran my finger over the skin again.

It was nice… yeah, nice. It felt a bit strange but not bad. Maybe a bit weird, but that might have been because I was so fucking focused on it. I just needed to relax, keep my eyes on the video, and not think too hard about what I was doing.

“Oh God, fuck me!” the other man moaned, his fingers clutching the woman’s waist. The camera had moved, and I couldn’t really see his face.

The screen was filled with a blur of cock and arse and pussy, everything blending into one as I pumped my cock furiously.

My finger was still resting against my arse, and I squeezed my eyes closed as I tried to focus on my orgasm.

It was right there.

So fucking close I could feel it.

But I couldn’t get there.

Not like this.

I rolled onto my stomach, letting my phone roll across my bed, the sound suddenly muffled in the duvet. I bent over, the hand that had been between my thighs now clutching the sheets as I jerked myself hard and fast. Nebulous dirty talk filled my head, the voice undeniably masculine.

That’s it, get yourself off for me, the voice whispered. You know I want to see you come. Be good for me, Danny. If you are, I’ll give you what you really want.

I groaned, nodding frantically. My fingers were starting to cramp and my wrist ached, but fuck it, I wasn’t going to stop. Not now. I was too far down the rabbit hole.

The voice continued, soft and inviting. I could practically feel his breath on my skin. I know what you think about, Danny. What you dream about. You want to be fucked, don’t you? Want to know what it feels like to take cock and be filled. Come for me, and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.

A gasped moan punched its way out of my throat as my orgasm hit me and I doubled over, my legs shaking as cum covered my fingers, my cock pulsing in my hand. It felt like I’d simultaneously had the best orgasm of my life and been punched in the ribs.

Breathing was almost painful, and I yelped in pain as my foot cramped, a stinging twinge lancing across the arch of my foot and down my calf, making me sprawl out and writhe around as I tried to rub it. But all I managed to do was smear cum over my foot and rub it into my leg hair.

Great. Just fucking great. Now I was going to have to haul my arse into the shower to scrub it off and hope it didn’t stick.

So much for a quick wank before bed to take the edge off.

Yeah, the orgasm had been great but it’d left me with a cramped foot, a cummy leg, and a lot of thoughts I wasn’t ready to examine.

I was simply going to put all of them in a box and ignore the shit out of them for as long as fucking possible.

Because that had worked really bloody well for me so far.

I growled in frustration, pressing my face into the sheets.

Maybe it would be good if I could find someone to explore this shit with.

Not like a therapist or a mate but, like, a hookup.

Someone with experience, who knew what the fuck they were doing when it came to having sex with men and who’d be able to help me figure out if I did actually like it or not.

It’d need to be a guy I could trust, who wasn’t going to rat me out to the press or on socials or to the team if he figured out who I was.

But where I’d find someone like that I had no fucking idea.

There wasn’t exactly anyone on the team I could ask.

Everyone who was out was already taken, and it wasn’t like I could read minds to figure out who might be into me or up for some discreet fooling around.

So I’d either have to suck it up and find someone on an app, get super drunk in a bar, or find a glory hole. Although… that last idea actually had some legs. Nobody would be able to see who I was, and I could leave straight away afterwards.

It wasn’t my worst idea.

It wasn’t my best either, but it was all I had right now.

With another groan, both of despair and pain because my foot still fucking hurt, I pushed myself up and climbed off the bed, hoping staring at the shower tiles would provide a bit of clarity.

If not, I was totally going to start Googling gay glory holes near me.

In Incognito mode, obviously.