The rest of the game continued in the same fashion. By halftime, Chris almost had tears in his eyes, he was so frustrated. Mickey and Connor seemed to have taken it upon themselves to touch him as much as humanly possible in that first half — tickling his neck and arms, grazing his fingers as they passed him something, or ruffling his hair as they walked by. At one point, Connor had hugged him after a successful play and breathed against his neck. The feeling of that slightly warm air on his neck almost made Chris cum in his pants. But, then Connor slapped his back, making him cry out, and snapping him out of his bliss. Of course, that made Connor pet his body in apology, which just wound Chris up more. He was ping-ponging back and forth between pleasure and pain, winding himself into a frustrated knot of sensations.
"Halftime game sesh!“ Connor yelled, standing up to turn the console on with a grin. Mickey picked up a controller and offered one to Chris.
"Playing bud?” he said, taking in Chris’s glassy eyes and wanting to break out into a grin. The stud was clearly distressed, and while it wasn’t going as quickly as Mickey had expected, he was truly enjoying the show. There was nothing like watching Chris whimper and yelp in pain or pleasure, wound up and on edge.
Instead of joining his buddies for some gaming, Chris stood up and shook his head. “No, no, I’m a, uhh…just…I’m gonna go lie down. I need…I don’t feel so good. I just gotta…” Chris pretty much bolted for his room, sweatshirt discarded on the floor from where he took it off, an unopened beer on the table. Mickey grinned and looked up to find Connor smirking right back.
Fuck! Fuck. Fuck! Chris slipped into his room, shutting the door and immediately pulling his t-shirt off. The cotton was too much against his skin. His jeans were next, sliding down his legs and making him gasp. Boxers followed shortly afterward, before Chris slid onto his bed, hands rubbing up and down his arms and across his chest. As he rubbed his hands over himself, one of his thumbs gently grazed his nipple and Jesus! His vision whited out.
Maybe he should go to a doctor? His skin felt like it was exploding with sensation. Every touch, poke, prod – even the whisper of fabric against his skin was sending him into fits of pleasure or pain. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to jerk off or cry. He debated showering, but the thought of the spray against his skin made him shudder. Maybe if he just stayed still, it would go away.
After several long moments of shifting and whimpering, he finally settled in. Chris lay in a ball on his side – his arms and legs tight and very still. He managed to settle into an odd slumber, occasionally woken up by his skin prickling along his nerves and making him wince. Before he drifted off, he decided if he still felt this way in the morning, he would go to the doctor.
"You think we should check on him?“ Connor asked Mickey when halftime ended.
They’d left Chris on his own now for roughly 15 minutes, and by now Mickey’s curiosity was as piqued as Connor’s. Mickey nodded but tried to play it cool.
He stood, setting his beer down and stretching languidly. Connor grinned up at him before turning the TV volume down low and getting up. In his excitement, Connor took hold of Mickey’s wrist and led him quietly out of the common room and down the hall to Chris’s room.
The door was closed tight, but luckily, it didn’t make a sound as Connor and Mickey opened it and peeked inside. Chris was on his side, back towards the door. The dim light from the lamp made his skin look pale and bathed the planes of his back in shadow. Connor had always admired Chris’s beautiful back, and right now he would love nothing more than to run his tongue down the center down towards that…
Connor’s eyes locked onto Chris’s perfect bare ass and all thought left his head. It was the most round and smooth piece of flesh he had ever seen. And it was big. Impossibly so. He imagined how it would feel to run his hands over those rubbery, bouncy cakes. Connor couldn’t wait to pry those cheeks apart and fuck his roommate’s hole.
Connor and Mickey stayed still for several moments, before finally deciding it was safe to enter. They could tell from his shallow breathing that Chris had slumbered off. Once inside, Connor’s smile widened as Mickey produced a pair of handcuffs from his pocket.
"Fuckin’ boy scout,” Connor whispered, grinning as Mickey shut the door. He was already half hard in his jeans and had been ever since Chris had appeared from his shower. Soon, he kept thinking. Soon, I’ll be feasting on that perfect pink puck.
“Ain’t you fuckin’ glad I am?“ Mickey replied, moving toward the bed and sitting on the edge. He was rather impressed that Chris had managed to fall asleep at all. Mickey had tried sleeping with that shit on his skin after a night of playing with it, and he just couldn’t. Their friend must have been more tired than they thought. Not that it mattered, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for much longer – not with what they had planned.
Connor smirked at Mickey as he sat down. It was almost too easy, and Connor couldn’t believe they were about to do this – about to taste and tease Chris into a quivering mess. Connor had been lusting after this straight cocktease for so long, and he was about to have everything he had been dreaming of. The plan was to tease Chris’s over-sensitized skin so much that he’d end up begging to be fucked. Connor loved the idea of touching and licking and sucking and fucking Chris as much as he wanted. Better still, he loved the idea of making Chris like it.
"Hey Chris,” Connor murmured as he slid a big hand down his buddy’s arm. Chris moaned quietly in his sleep at the feel and ground his cock against the cool cotton sheets. Although Connor liked riling Chris up, he was feeling impatient. He reached out a rough thumb and scraped it across the stud’s pointed nipple. Chris cried out and jolted awake. He took a few seconds to get his bearings, glancing up at Connor when he did.
“Connor? Mickey? What’s going on?” Chris went to sit up, obviously embarrassed by his lack of clothing, but stopped when a hand pressed into his back.
“Not so fast sweetheart,” came Mickey’s whiskey-rough voice next to him. Chris blushed a furious shade of pink when Mickey began to stroke his back. Fuck, that felt good.
Why were his friends in his room, in his BED? And why were they so comfortable with him being naked? This wasn’t normal. Chris found himself confusedly leaning into the touch, overwhelmed by the feeling of those rough hands on his bare torso. He wanted more, but this whole thing was so, SO weird.
“Guys, don’t. I-I’m not feeli-”
Whatever he was going to say was suddenly cut off by Connor grabbing his wrists – hard. “Fuck! Connor!” Chris jerked his head back toward his friend as he was hauled up onto his knees. Chris began to struggle but Connor’s grip was firm.
“Connor! What the fuck man!?” He was rewarded by being pulled down onto the bed on his knees, face pressed into the sheets, ass up in the air, exposing his hairless, pink hole to Mickey, as Connor held him down.
“Fuck, stop it!” Chris twisted against Connor’s hands. The rub of skin against skin was a horrible mix of pain and pleasure that Chris couldn’t handle. “Let me go! You’ve had your fun, now just let go!” Chris pulled again, unable to right himself. What the fuck was happening? This joke was getting out of hand!
“Guys-” His voice cut out as he felt a cool finger sliding over his ass, making him shudder.
What was Mickey DOING!?!
“Shit, he’s pretty,” Mickey remarked, pulling out the bottle that held the liquid they’d used earlier. Chris whimpered quietly at the comment. It was like being in some cliche gang rape porno, and that thought wasn’t exactly comforting.
He could hear Connor’s outward breath as he agreed, "Yeah, Chris’s got a pretty little hole, don’t you, Chrissy? I’ve wanted to bury myself in it for so long – have those cock sucking lips around my dick.”
This didn’t sound like his suitemates! He had never heard them talk about boys like that! Sure, some of the other guys around campus said shit like that to Chris when he playfully flirted with them, but he never thought about Connor and Mickey like that! He hated thinking about his suitemates ogling his body like so many other people around campus.
Connor ran a finger over those pouty lips he was just admiring and Chris was tempted to bite it. Suddenly, Chris’s lips felt cool and then tingly. He thrashed his head as he felt some liquid being spread against his lips.
“Connor! What the hell!?” He kept pulling against his roommate’s hands, desperate to get away. This had to be a damn joke, it had to be! No way would his friends ever do something like this! Surely this was just them messing with him for being such a prude!
“Spread it around his hole, Mickey. We gotta make sure he really feels it.” Connor was instructing Mickey to do something and for a moment Chris didn’t understand. Then he felt rough, slick fingers slide over his puck.
"No don’t! Fuck, Mickey, no!“ Chris couldn’t help his voice becoming breathy as those fingers pressed the fluid into his skin, spreading that cool tingly feeling all over his hole. Those fat fingers rubbed round and round his twitching puck before pressing slightly into the hole. It shouldn’t have felt good — it should have felt humiliating and degrading and awful — but the slow teasing feeling against his hole felt better than anything Chris had ever felt before. It wasn’t long before he was letting out breathy moans and pushing back to get more of Mickey’s fingers. He was so lost to the pleasure he felt in his hole, he completely forgot about trying to get free.
"He likes it,” Mickey chuckled, spreading more of the liquid around Chris’s hole before blowing lightly on it. Chris cried out and pushed his hips back slightly before jerking them forward again, obviously in an attempt to stop himself from chasing such pleasure. Chris whimpered, clearly overwhelmed and frustrated and confused. Connor slowly stroked those pouty lips, applying more of the liquid before slipping a finger into his mouth.
The feel of Connor’s finger sliding into his mouth felt so damn good that Chris was almost tempted to do just that. Instead, he bit — hard — making Connor wince, but never removing his finger. Instead, he put the tube of liquid alongside his finger and squeezed. The gel flooded into Chris’s warm, wet mouth and Connor pumped his fingers in and out, making sure to coat the pretty boy’s tongue. Connor couldn’t help but marvel at the ragged moan that left Chris’s throat.
“There we go. Suck with those pretty lips. It feels so good, huh?”
Chris whimpered. It did feel good. Too good. Too good for something he didn’t want to happen. When had he started sucking on those fat fingers? They were slightly salty, but Fuck! The feel of Connor’s finger sliding in and out of his mouth was making him moan. He started sucking harder, hollowing out his cheeks.
“Such a pretty mouth,” Connor murmured, finally pulling his fingers out and running them over Chris’s back toward Mickey’s. Connor watched for a moment as Chris rocked back against Mickey’s fingers where they traced slow circles around his hole.
“You got the outside pretty good,” Connor growled, “but we need to make sure we coat the insides.” Chris felt the pointed tip of the tube slip just inside his twitchy puck. Next, he heard the squelch of liquid leaving the bottle and felt a rush of cool goo flood his insides. Then a thick, wet finger pushed into his hole.
“Oh, God… Oh… nuh -nuh… Nooo-oh oh,” Chris could barely get the word out. Everything felt so fucking good.
“Sshhhh, baby. I know you love it,” Mickey smiled darkly, as he kissed Chris gently on the cheek. Connor pushed a second finger inside Chris while Mickey continued to massage the outside of his rim.
“Ah! God. Please. It’s too much!” Everything was getting stronger. Chris’s skin was getting warmer, more sensitive. His nerves were on fire, sending sparks of pleasure through his veins into his cock. The drag of fingers inside his needy hole was making him moan and jerk and whimper as the two sets of fingers slid over his ass. Chris flushed with shame as he let out a rather high pitched whine when the fingers retreated. Then the whine turned into a moan as he felt a wet tongue lick its way up his spine and press a kiss to the back of his neck.
"Good boy,” Connor breathed against the shell of his ear. Suddenly, Chris heard a metal click. He looked up to find handcuffs snapped onto his wrists and slipped through the bars of his headboard.
“Just let it soak in for a bit,” Connor said darkly, as the horror of the situation dawned on Chris. He was stuck, handcuffed, ass-up in his bed unable to do anything as his throat and hole absorbed that wicked liquid.
Before he could even protest, the suitemates left. And then Chris was alone, unable to do anything about his pulsing, needy hole.
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