Daayyyyymmm

That’s why tonight, Jake wasn’t expecting any visitors. The barn was his space, a haven where he could strut around shirtless in his jeans, showing off those abs he worked so hard on. But as he stood in the rustic kitchen, stirring a pot of oatmeal, there was a loud knock at the barn door.

Jake frowned. Who the hell would come out here this late?

He opened the door to see a familiar figure—his girlfriend’s father, Mr. Matheson, standing there, arms crossed, eyes narrowed beneath the brim of his hat.

“Hey, uh… Mr. Matheson. Didn’t know you were stopping by,” Jake said, trying to keep his voice casual.

“You and I need to have a talk, Jake,” the older man growled, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

Jake felt a prickle of unease. The older man’s presence filled the barn, making it feel smaller.

“Sure, what’s up?” Jake asked, leaning back against the counter, attempting to project confidence.

Mr. Matheson’s eyes raked over him, lingering on his open plaid shirt and the defined abs beneath. “You got no shame, do you, boy?”

Tyler’s heart pounded as Mr. Holden stepped into the kitchen, shutting the barn loft door behind him with a heavy thud. The older man’s gaze swept over Tyler’s half-open shirt, the sculpted abs, and the casual confidence the jock exuded—an attitude that had clearly struck a nerve.

“You really think you’re something, don’t you?” Mr. Holden growled, his eyes lingering on Tyler’s bare chest. “Sending a photo like that… in my house. In my daughter’s barn.”

Tyler swallowed, forcing a cocky grin despite the tension prickling through him. “Wasn’t meant for you, old man. Chill out.”

But Holden wasn’t buying the attitude. He took a step closer, his presence filling the room with an air of authority. “You’ve been getting a sweet deal renting this place, haven’t you? Practically living here for nothing.” His lips curled into a smirk. “I think it’s time we renegotiated the terms.”

Tyler squared his shoulders, his jaw tightening. “I’ve been paying you, man. We had a deal—”

“Shut up.” Holden’s voice was low, commanding, and Tyler’s confidence wavered for just a moment. “You think flashing your abs and playing the big shot is gonna fly around here?” He leaned in, close enough that Tyler could feel the heat of the older man’s breath on his skin. “You’re gonna learn a little respect.”

Holden’s hand moved, deceptively fast for a man his age, gripping Tyler’s shirt and yanking him forward. The jock stumbled, muscles tensing as he tried to resist, but Holden’s grip was iron-tight. “You’re not so tough now, huh?” Holden sneered, his eyes narrowing as he dragged Tyler into the center of the room.

Tyler’s pulse quickened, a mix of confusion and defiance sparking in his eyes. “You think you can manhandle me? Get your hands off me!” He shoved against the older man’s chest, but Holden barely budged, his grip tightening as he slammed Tyler against the counter, pinning him in place.

“Looks like all those muscles don’t mean jack,” Holden taunted, his voice dripping with amusement as he pressed his weight against Tyler. The jock struggled, arms flexing, but Holden had the leverage, keeping him trapped.

“Alright, alright!” Tyler barked, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. “You’ve made your point!”

Holden chuckled darkly, leaning in until their faces were inches apart. “Oh, I’m just getting started, boy.”

Holden’s grip was unrelenting, his heavy, calloused hands pinning Tyler against the counter with surprising strength. The older man’s eyes held a dark amusement as he drank in the sight of the jock’s struggle—the rippling muscles flexing beneath that half-open shirt, the clenched jaw, the sweat beading at Tyler’s temple.

“What’s the matter, tough guy? All those muscles, and you can’t break free?” Holden sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. “Guess that pretty boy body’s all show, huh?”

“Get off me,” Tyler spat, twisting against the counter’s edge, his face flushed with a mix of frustration and growing anxiety. He couldn’t believe the situation he was in. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He was the one who called the shots, the one everyone wanted—but now he was the one pinned down, and Holden was making sure he knew it.

Holden leaned in closer, his presence suffocating, his breath ghosting over Tyler’s cheek. “You think you can just flaunt yourself around here like some cocky stud? You need to learn what it means to be put in your place.”

With a ruthless motion, Holden hooked his foot behind Tyler’s ankle, forcing the jock’s legs apart. Tyler tried to resist, but the older man’s body weight pinned him down, and a hot flush of humiliation surged through him as he realized how vulnerable he’d become.

“Look at you,” Holden taunted, his tone dripping with twisted satisfaction. “All those big muscles, all that attitude, and now you’re right where I want you.”

Tyler’s breathing quickened, his chest heaving against the older man’s grip. “You can’t do this—”

“Oh, I can do whatever I want,” Holden cut him off, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Because right now, you’re just a piece of meat that needs to be broken in.”

Tyler struggled harder, muscles straining, but Holden’s grip was relentless. The older man reached down, his fingers tracing the open edge of Tyler’s flannel shirt, lingering over the hard ridges of his abs. Tyler’s body tensed beneath the touch, a furious defiance blazing in his eyes.

“Bet you’re used to people worshipping you, huh?” Holden sneered, his fingers tightening as he pressed against Tyler’s exposed chest. “But you’re about to learn what it feels like to be used instead.”

Tyler’s breath hitched, and for a split second, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face—a crack in that cocky, confident facade. Holden saw it, and he seized on it like a predator, his lips curling into a dark smile.

“There it is,” Holden whispered, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “The first sign that you know you’re not in control anymore.”

Holden’s eyes roved over Tyler’s body, taking in the details he’d missed before—the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, the subtle scent of exertion clinging to him, and the athletic shorts that hung low on his hips beneath that loose flannel shirt. Tyler must’ve come back straight from practice, still in his workout gear, and the older man’s lips twisted into a grin.

“Didn’t even have the decency to shower, huh?” Holden taunted, his hand dropping lower, brushing against the waistband of Tyler’s shorts. “Bet you were struttin’ around that locker room, thinking you’re hot stuff.”

“Back off,” Tyler snarled, his voice tight with defiance as he tried to twist away from Holden’s hold. But the older man was relentless, his grip unyielding as he pressed his body flush against Tyler’s, grinding his hips into the jock’s firm backside.

Tyler’s body went rigid, a hot flush of humiliation flooding his face as he felt the pressure of Holden’s weight, the deliberate motion of the older man’s hips grinding against him, teasing him with dry, slow thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Holden purred, his breath hot against Tyler’s ear. “Feels a little different when you’re the one being used, doesn’t it?”

Tyler grit his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to focus on anything other than the heat pressing into him, the friction of Holden’s rough jeans dragging against the thin fabric of his gym shorts. “You’re sick,” he growled, voice tight with anger.

“Call me whatever you want, pretty boy,” Holden chuckled, hips grinding harder against Tyler’s ass, drawing a low, involuntary gasp from the jock. “But we both know you can’t stop me. Not here. Not now.”

Holden’s hands moved down, gripping Tyler’s hips and forcing him to stay pressed against the counter, holding him in place as he ground against him with slow, deliberate motions. The older man’s breath came heavier, and Tyler could feel the growing hardness against him, a twisted reminder of how completely he’d lost control.

“Bet you’re regretting sending that little photo now, huh?” Holden sneered, his voice a low, mocking drawl. “Should’ve thought twice before flaunting yourself around like a piece of meat.”

Tyler’s breathing quickened, his pulse pounding in his ears as Holden’s hands tightened on his hips, guiding him into the rhythm of those dry, humiliating thrusts. Every movement ground the older man’s hardness against him, a relentless reminder of the power he’d lost.

“You’re not gonna break me,” Tyler spat, a desperate edge to his voice.

Holden laughed darkly, his lips brushing against the side of Tyler’s neck. “Oh, I don’t need to break you. I just need you to feel it. Every. Single. Inch.”

The older man’s hips ground harder, dragging the rough fabric of his jeans against Tyler’s gym shorts, the friction igniting a heat that Tyler couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried. His body’s response betrayed him—muscles tensing, skin flushing—and Holden felt every second of it, a dark satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

But Tyler wasn’t just going to take it. His pride burned hotter than his humiliation. He grit his teeth and tried to shove back with his shoulders, forcing himself off the counter. His muscles strained against the grip on his hips, every fiber of his athlete’s body flexing as he fought back—half-heartedly, uselessly. He wasn’t giving in, but he wasn’t fully committing to escaping either. It was the kind of struggle that only made it worse, and Holden knew it.

“Go on, fight all you want,” Holden growled, shoving him back against the counter with a grunt, pressing his weight down even harder. “That little squirming act of yours? Just makes it better.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Tyler barked, twisting again, pushing against Holden’s grip. But it wasn’t a real escape attempt—not anymore. He felt the heat behind him, the way Holden’s thick hands owned his hips, holding him steady as their bodies moved in sync.

The fight was instinct, a leftover scrap of his pride—but the more he fought, the more it felt like he was helping the older man instead of stopping him.

Holden chuckled, his breath hot against the side of Tyler’s neck. “Mmm, there it is… that little bit of resistance. Just enough to pretend you don’t want it.” His hands dragged over the jock’s gym shorts, tracing the lines of his v-cut abs before gripping his waistband tight. “But we both know you ain’t really tryin’.”

Tyler snarled, trying to throw his weight sideways, but Holden yanked him right back in with a firm grind of his hips. The jock’s body jolted, his ass pressing involuntarily into the older man’s lap, and he let out a sharp exhale, humiliated beyond belief.

Holden groaned. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Knew you’d feel it if I got you right there.”

“Shut up,” Tyler hissed, his hands gripping the counter so tight his knuckles went white.

Holden only laughed, dragging his hips slow and deep against the jock’s ass, rolling his thick body against him in measured, taunting thrusts. His grip never loosened, keeping Tyler right where he wanted him.

“Damn, boy. This is almost too easy.” Holden’s voice was rich with satisfaction. He reached up, gripping Tyler’s flannel and yanking it further open, exposing more of his sweat-slicked chest. His fingers ran over the hard ridges of the jock’s abs, drinking in the sensation. “How does it feel knowing you can’t stop this? That your body’s just… along for the ride?”

Tyler’s breath hitched. His whole body was tense, coiled with fight—but not enough fight. Not enough to make Holden stop. And that made the humiliation even worse.

Holden dragged his mouth closer to Tyler’s ear, voice a low growl. “Go on. Keep fighting. Let’s see just how much fun we can have.”

He thrust again, slow and rough, forcing Tyler’s body against the counter with each grind, the thick press of his jeans unrelenting against the jock’s barely-covered ass.

And Tyler hated how much he could feel it.

Holden’s grip was unrelenting, his thick fingers digging into Tyler’s hips as he ground against him with slow, measured thrusts. Every roll of his heavy body against the jock’s firm ass sent another wave of unwanted heat through Tyler’s frame, his gym shorts doing nothing to shield him from the rough friction of the older man’s jeans. Tyler clenched his jaw, trying to steady his breathing, but every time he twisted or shoved back, Holden only pushed in harder, feeding off the resistance like it was fuel.

“Still got some fight in ya,” Holden murmured against the side of his face, his voice thick with amusement. “But I see that mouth of yours is still running. Maybe I oughta do something about that.”

Tyler snarled, trying to turn his head, but Holden’s grip shifted fast, one thick hand moving up to the back of the jock’s neck, keeping him locked in place. The older man chuckled lowly, dragging his hips against him one last time before stepping back just enough to reach down, fumbling with his belt.

Tyler’s stomach twisted. “Don’t—”

“Shut up,” Holden growled, yanking the buckle loose with a sharp snap. His jeans sagged just enough for him to pull himself free, his thick cock heavy in his grip, glistening at the tip with a bead of precum. “This mouth of yours—always flappin’, always talking shit like you’re untouchable. We both know that ain’t the case now, don’t we?”

Tyler turned his head away, breathing heavy, his jaw tight with anger and humiliation. He could hear Holden stroking himself behind him, that wet sound filling the small space of the loft, taunting him.

“Don’t act like you can’t smell it, boy,” Holden chuckled, stepping forward again, pressing himself up against Tyler’s back. His free hand tangled into the jock’s hair, yanking his head back, forcing him to look up. “You’re gonna get real familiar with it soon enough.”

Tyler let out a sharp grunt, muscles flexing as he tried to pull away, but Holden’s grip was firm, keeping him in place. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“Open up,” Holden murmured, dragging the leaking tip along Tyler’s jaw, smearing that slick, salty precum against his skin. “Go on, tough guy. Show me how much fight you really got left.”

Tyler clenched his teeth, turning his face, but that only made Holden grip his jaw tighter, forcing his lips apart.

“That’s it,” Holden cooed, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s a good boy.”

He pressed the tip between Tyler’s parted lips, letting that first taste spread over the jock’s tongue. The salty, musky tang hit him instantly, and Tyler’s whole body shuddered as he tried to twist away.

“Uh-uh,” Holden grunted, tightening his grip. “You’re stayin’ right there.”

Tyler’s breath came in ragged bursts, his whole body tensed in humiliation as Holden pushed deeper, feeding him more, making sure he got every drop.

“Not so mouthy now, are ya?” Holden sneered, his fingers gripping the back of Tyler’s head. “Guess I finally found the one thing that shuts you up.”

Tyler’s face burned, every inch of his body screaming in anger, humiliation, and something deeper—something he couldn’t even name.

Holden groaned, rolling his hips forward just slightly, just enough to make Tyler feel it. “Yeah, that’s right. Get used to it, boy. You ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Tyler’s jaw ached. His lips were stretched, stuffed full, his throat already raw from the brutal, unrelenting pace. Drool spilled down his chin, slicking his heaving chest, catching in the fabric of his half-open flannel.

Holden’s fingers gripped his hair tight, keeping the jock’s head locked in place. His other hand rested heavy on the back of Tyler’s skull, controlling every slow, grinding movement.

“Damn, boy,” Holden grunted, rolling his hips forward, forcing himself deeper. Tyler gagged hard, his throat convulsing, but Holden didn’t let up. “You got a strong jaw, but you ain’t got the technique. Gonna have to break you in real good.”

Tyler’s fingers clenched into fists against his thighs. His whole body trembled, shoulders flexing, chest heaving, but he stayed there—kneeling, choking, taking it.

Holden pulled back just a little—only to shove in again, harder. Tyler’s throat spasmed, a wet gag echoing through the barn loft.

Holden groaned deep, hips pressing forward, feeling the fight in the jock’s body—the way his muscles coiled, his throat clenched tight around him, the soft, helpless noises breaking past his stuffed lips.

“There we go,” Holden grunted, thrusting deeper, forcing Tyler to take every inch. “That’s how a man gets sucked off. None of that lazy, half-assed college shit you do with those girls.”

Tyler shuddered, gagging again, spittle dripping from the corners of his mouth, his breathing ragged.

Holden felt the resistance in every inch of the jock’s body. The tightness of his throat, the flex of his powerful shoulders. That last, lingering refusal to give in— and that’s what made it even sweeter.

The old man tightened his grip, his voice dropping into a rough, husky growl.

“Open wider, boy. You’re supposed to be an athlete. Show me that stamina.”

And then—he pushed in all the way.

Tyler choked.

His body jerked, his throat closing up instinctively, his back arching in protest. His strong hands lifted—half a second away from pushing Holden back.

Holden snarled.

A hard slap cracked across the jock’s flushed, wet cheek.

“Keep those hands down,” Holden ordered, grinding forward. “You don’t touch unless I tell you to.”

Tyler groaned, gagging again, his fingers clenching into fists on his thighs. His body was shaking, his muscles burning, but he didn’t push back.

Didn’t pull away.

Just took it.

Holden groaned, rolling his hips in slow, deep thrusts, forcing the jock to adjust, to take more, to stop fighting.

“You got a long night ahead of you, boy,” Holden muttered, his grip tightening in the jock’s soaked hair. “Better learn fast.”

And Tyler’s throat clenched around him.

Tyler’s throat convulsed violently.

His whole body seized, his abs clenching, muscles flexing hard as he gagged deep. A wet, choking sound tore from his throat, his face burning, drool spilling from his lips, dripping onto his sweat-damp chest.

Holden groaned, grinding his hips forward, keeping him right there.

“Yeah,” the old man muttered, his voice thick with pleasure. “There it is. Feels good, don’t it?”

Tyler’s fingernails dug into his own thighs, his body shaking, his lungs burning as he tried to breathe through it.Every time he gagged, his throat tightened around the thick pressure, clenching instinctively, fighting against the intrusion.

Holden felt every second of it.

“Damn, boy,” he grunted, his grip tightening in the jock’s soaked hair. “Chokin’ just makes it better. Don’t hold back now.”

Tyler heaved, his strong shoulders shaking, his throat closing again as another harsh gag ripped through him. His whole body jerked, but he didn’t pull away.

Didn’t fight it.

Just sat there, kneeling between Holden’s thick thighs, struggling to take more.

Holden’s hips rolled slow and deep, feeding him just an inch more, then pulling back, then pressing in again.

Testing him. Making him feel every inch.

The first few thrusts had his throat convulsing hard, choking, his whole body stiff. But then—something changed.

The next push in?

A little smoother.

Still tight, still gagging—but not as violent.

The next one?

Even better.

Holden felt it. That slow, unwilling surrender.

Tyler’s throat wasn’t closing as hard anymore. His body was adjusting before he could stop it, his gag reflex slowly giving up, learning, stretching.

Holden groaned, rolling his hips again, watching Tyler’s jaw loosen just slightly, his throat opening up just a fraction more.

“Ohhh, boy,” Holden chuckled, his voice thick and husky. “You’re catchin’ on real quick now.”

A wet, gasping breath tore from Tyler’s throat when Holden pulled back for a second—his lips shiny, red, stretched, his breath shaky.

Holden grinned.

“Didn’t think you’d be a natural,” he muttered, thrusting back in, watching Tyler’s lips part again, his throat taking him deeper this time.

The jock gagged hard, but the reflex was slower now, his body catching up, his throat loosening, learning.

Holden groaned, rolling his hips in again, deeper, watching Tyler struggle but not fight.

“Yeah… that’s it,” the old man murmured, thumb brushing over the jock’s spit-slicked lips. “You’re gettin’ better by the second.”

Tyler’s chest heaved, sweat dripping down his collarbone, his throat working around every inch.

Holden’s grip tightened, his fingers threading through the jock’s damp, spit-soaked hair, locking him in place. His hips rolled forward, deep and slow, forcing Tyler to take every inch, every pulse, every last second of it.

The heat in the room was unbearable now—thick, humid, suffocating. Tyler’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving, the entire front of his open flannel drenched in sweat and spit, clinging to his abs.

Holden grunted, hips jerking, his cock throbbing inside the jock’s stretched, raw throat.

“Stay right there, boy,” Holden growled, voice thick and shaking. “Don’t you dare move.”

Tyler’s thighs tensed, his fingers digging into his own legs, knuckles white from the force. His muscles were burning, his jaw ached, but he didn’t pull back.

Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

Holden’s breathing hitched. His grip locked. His body stiffened.

And then—

A deep, guttural groan ripped from the old man’s throat.

The first pulse hit the back of Tyler’s throat like fire, thick and overwhelming. His eyes widened, his body jerking instinctively, his throat convulsing hard around the sudden, hot flood.

Holden didn’t let him pull away.

Tyler gagged violently, choking, his whole body jolting as the heavy release kept coming, kept flooding, kept overwhelming. His throat clenched, working, struggling to swallow, but it was too much—far too much.

It spilled out.

A thick, hot mess, dribbling past his swollen lips, spilling down his chin, smearing across his jaw, running in slick trails down his flushed neck.

Holden groaned deep, watching it.

Watching the mess. Watching the wreckage.

Watching Tyler struggle.

The jock tried to keep up, his lips stretched, his throat working desperately, but more and more kept spilling, pooling at the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his heaving chest.

Holden let out a deep, dark laugh, fingers curling tight in the jock’s hair, forcing him to stay right there in it.

Tyler’s breathing was shaky, raw. His throat ached, his tongue thick with the taste, his body quivering from exhaustion, from the burn of it all.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was the way his own body had betrayed him.

The wet heat between his own legs.

The pulse that had built up without him realizing.

The way his abs clenched tight—

The moment his own body gave out, shaking, spilling, twitching.

And Holden saw it.

The old man smirked, letting his grip loosen just enough, letting the jock finally pull back—

Only to watch him cough, spit, and tremble.

“Damn, boy,” Holden muttered, dragging his thumb over Tyler’s wet lips, smearing the last of it across his chin.

Another lonely weekend stretched out ahead of me. It was a Saturday night and I was just lounging in my apartment. Chris, my roommate, had insisted I go out to some club with him. If nothing else, at least I could meet his new girlfriend who, by all accounts, was a fox. Not being in the mood (rarely ever in the mood), I declined. I was watching some mildly entertaining movie when I heard giggling outside the door and down the hall.

Glancing at the clock, I realised it was fairly late. The voices came closer and I heard the familiar sound of a key in the front door's lock. Ah, I thought, he brought her home with him. Great.

The door swung open and Chris stumbled in, grinning like an idiot. No lights were on; there was only a blue glow emanating from the television. I couldn't get a very good look at the girl hanging off his shoulder. From what I could see, she at least had a great-looking body.

"Hey buddy!" he slurred at me. Sounded like he had a good time. I raised my hand with the remote and saluted him as if it were a drink. The girl giggled again and pulled his face to hers, forcing a kiss on his mouth. The two happily stumbled through the apartment and into Chris's room. One of them kicked the door shut behind them; it closed with a loud slam. I heard them both laughing and the girl shriek delightedly.

I rolled my eyes. Lucky bastard. Turning up the TV, I did my best to tune them out as they fucked in the room behind me. I vaguely considered lowering the volume in the event that I was ruining their mood, but by the sound of it, the girl was quite an enthusiastic lover and I was pretty confident that they didn't give a shit.

I'll admit I had a difficult time paying attention to the conclusion of the movie. As hard as I tried to mind my own business, the occasional thuds of Chris's headboard hitting the wall and the girl's loud moaning kept pulling me in. Jesus, she sounded like a wildcat!

Eventually the two settled down and the apartment grew quiet. Rubbing my eyes with fatigue, I plodded into my own room and collapsed on the bed. I had to admit I was feeling a little jealous of Chris that night. We're buddies and all, and yeah I'm happy he's got a great lay, but I couldn't help cursing my own dry spell. With a resigned sigh, I fell asleep.

The following day I awoke groggy. I had my usual morning hard-on and debated whether or not to give myself a fix before drifting back to snoozing. Ultimately I decided I needed to take a piss, so it would have to wait. Pulling myself out of bed, I wandered out of my room and to our only bathroom.

My eyes were still half-closed, and I was absentmindedly playing with myself through my boxers. I was a little confused that the bathroom door was partially closed; not latched, but resting in a position that blocked the doorway. That was weird; Chris normally doesn't even shut the door when he's taking a shit. My mind was still foggy and it didn't occur to me that someone else might be in there.

So! I carelessly nudged the door open with my foot, one hand rubbing my left eye, my other hand softly stroking my cock in my underwear. It was at that moment that I realized I had made a mistake. Now I remembered Chris brought somebody home with him...

She was standing facing the mirror. I halted in my footsteps, frozen in place, as I eyed her down and up. All she was wearing was a light blue towel. Dimly I thought, hey... that's mine... It ended just below her ass, giving me a perfect rear view of her entire legs. I was at first mesmerized by the contrast of her skin against the towel right at her thighs. They were the perfect shape with a nice complexion; not a flaw to be seen.

My gaze traveled up her ass and lower back, where I could faintly see the curves through the towel where her stomach turned inward above her hips. Then I looked at her upper-back and shoulders, naked and smooth just like her legs. Up, up I went to her slender neck, which was revealed to me because her hair was tied up with something.

Her arms were raised and her hands were at her face. I guess she was just finishing her makeup around her eyes. Slowly looking past her body and into the mirror, I realised she was staring right at me through the reflection.

"Hi! I'm not in your way, am I?" she chirped, like nothing in the world was odd.

The sudden sound actually made me jump back a little bit. "Uh... S-sorry!" I managed to stammer as I took my hand off my dick, grabbed the door, and shut it between us as quickly as I could.

I stared at the closed door for a few moments, trying to process what just happened. My mind was racing for the proper protocol of how to react here. Apologise again and explain? Flee back to my room and pretend it never happened? Before I could decide, the door swung open and the girl was standing to me face-to-face, one hand holding the towel at the top where it came together at her breasts. My eyes were naturally drawn to her hand, soaking in the outline of her cleavage.

"I didn't mean to get in your way!" Was she actually apologizing to me? My face flushed red.

"No uh... No prob..." I was scratching the back of my head now, looking all around while stealing little glances at her. It was hard for me to match her stare. I felt like a kid who just got busted by the hot babysitter. But each time I actually looked at her, I saw her eyes twinkle and her perfect white smile. God she is...

She extended her free hand to me. "I'm Rachel," she cooed. Rachel. Normally I would think that was one of those silly names that 90’s parents bestow, but at that moment it sounded like music. I tentatively took her hand and managed to mutter out my own name. She just kept grinning at me. Her smile almost felt condescending. It was welcoming but... oddly mirthful.

It was then I realised she was slyly checking me out.Oh yeah, I'm practically naked. At first I felt pretty self-conscious about it, but I noticed and almost imperceptible rising of her eyebrow. I was hoping that meant, not bad.

"Well! Don't let me keep you!" she exclaimed and moved out from the doorway. I sheepishly thanked her and slipped in. As I turned to close the door, I caught her gaze again and both her eyebrows shot up as her lips curled into a little smile. "Don't worry,I won't barge in!" I let out a little chuckle and the door was shut.

I rubbed my hands against my face, letting out a long sigh. I tried to shake it off. I actually stood at the toilet for a few moments before I began to go. Man, stage fright? Settle down! Finally I let loose and relieved myself. I made a conscious effort to wash my hands and sound like a civilized human being, then opened the door to go back to my room.

Rachel was standing right there, waiting. "Wow, you really had to go!" she blurted out. Without waiting for me to get out of the doorway, she pushed herself through, rubbing the front of her body against mine. I was caught in a moment of complete embarrassment as I thought about her listening in on me. The sensation of her as she passed me was electric, and I actually felt my cock jump a little bit. I grew even redder.

Leaving the room, I turned to her to say a lame, "Well, nice to meet you." She interrupted me with a hushed, "We'll just keep this little introduction to ourselves." With a playful wink, she turned her back to me and began happily humming some little tune as she went back to the mirror. She kicked one of her legs back to swing the door partially closed again. As it blocked my view of her, I noticed her drop the towel. For a split second I saw all of her lower back and the beginnings of her ass until the door obstructed me. I felt my dick jump again as I took a deep breath and returned to my room.

II

Since that first encounter, Rachel had begun spending more and more time at the apartment. Chris was (understandably) head-over-heels for her. He was the very outgoing type, and she was as much a free-spirit as anyone. In fact, for all Chris's typical suave and charm with the ladies, it was all he could do to keep up with Rachel. She was constantly dragging him to another adventure, another new restaurant.

For my own part, I didn't mind too much. Certainly seeing her around the place wasn't something I was going to complain about. She was a fantastic looker and had zero qualms about showing it off. Not that she dressed particularly slutty. I guess she was one of those types who could carelessly put on anything and make it look good. Really, I didn't see her dressed up very often; usually only when she came by to leave with Chris. Or on some occasions, she actually got ready at our place. At any rate, my eyes were typically only treated to her prancing around in a tank-top with faded jeans or little shorts. Whatever, I liked it as any guy would.

Rachel and I got along amicably enough. I never had much to say to her, but she was inevitably cheerful toward me. At first I constantly found myself embarrassed and awkward. She's so flirtatious when she talks. It's effortless. For a little while I actually wondered if she was hitting on me or trying to get me in trouble. Eventually I just realised that's probably the way she treats everybody; she's just one of those girls. I still feel my heart skip a beat when she gave me one of her devious little smiles though. And she incessantly teased me about the time we caught each other in the bathroom. As much as it discomfited me, I still looked forward to her attention. Sometimes I even felt guilty about it.

So this was the (fairly innocent) state of affairs for a while. As I said, her presence at the apartment was increasing over time. Apparently her roommate was something of a monster and she hated being at her own place. Evidently it wasn't enough of a problem to make her simply move. I wondered if at some point she was hoping to squeeze me out of my own digs and settle in with Chris.

Anyway, it was a late afternoon and Chris hadn't gotten off work yet. I had just gotten home and when I put the key in the door, I realized it was unlocked. A little perplexed, I opened the door to a fantastic sight.

Rachel was standing with her back to me, wearing only a bra and a tiny pair of panties. I took a sharp intake of breath as I was immediately reminded of walking in on her when we first met. She heard me and turned, a perplexed look painted on her face. Upon seeing me, it instantly softened.

"Oh good! I need your help!" she cheered.

I then noticed she had several articles of clothing sprawled out on the couch. She was towering over them, trying to figure out that special something to wear for Chris tonight. Despite my best efforts to remain cool, I could not keep my eyes from bouncing up and down her awesome body. Sure, like I said, I got to see her fairly often... but this was different. I could see all her legs. All her stomach. She was practically nude. This was even better than in the towel...

"I'm uh... I'm not really an expert on fashion..." I lamely tried to excuse myself. Now I know lots of guys would think I'm a complete idiot for trying to get out of the situation, but that's what I did. Rachel was my buddy's girl. That's one line I was not about to cross. I already felt pretty shamefaced for jacking off to her image half the time. I didn't think I could ever score with a girl like her anyway, and quite frankly, I didn't like being tormented with what I couldn't have.

"No way! You're perfect!" she explained to me, "As a guy, only you really know what men like to see girls wear! Besides, you're like, Chris's best friend. You know his taste!"

The way her eyes sparked made my heart ache. The way her curves moved as she simply shifted her weight made the rest of my body ache worse. Just wear what you're wearing now...

"He'll like... uh, whatever, I'm sure..." It was my last attempt. She promptly ignored the comment, sauntered over to me (I couldn't decide whether to watch her nearly-naked hips or her swaying chest), grabbed my arm, and playfully pushed me onto the couch. Oh well. I can't say I was that disappointed.

I'll try not to bore you with every little detail. Like I said, she had a bunch of clothes on the couch there with us. Now, I figured she would just hold up a couple things in front of her body and I would say yea or nay, and that would be it. Nope. She made it a point to try every piece on in front of me. Then give me the full twirl-around. Then strip back out of it (and I mean this, she didn't just slide out of anything. Did she have to make everything sexy?).

What's worse is that for every good piece, she made me tell her why I liked it.

"So what about this skirt?" She made it seem so innocent.

"It's, it's nice..."

"What's nice about it?"

"Uh, well, it's... pretty short..."

"Yeah but, don't guys like leaving something to the imagination?"

"Yeah they, uh, we do..."

"Well should I try on a shorter one?" she pouted.

Gulp. She was already slipping out of it before I could answer. So of course the next one was something completely slutty. "Oh I haven't worn this one in forever, I got it as a joke once..." she feigned embarrassment.

I'll tell you, my humiliation was the real deal. My cock was throbbing at this point, and I was wearing rather loose khakis, so it was no secret. I was constantly shifting my legs to try and make the tent less noticeable, but it was to no effect. Rachel was obviously amused by it. Whenever she had on something that was clearly sexy, she would pose, "So how do you like this one?" But she would barely look me in the eye when she asked it. She instead measured my approval by dragging her eyes slowly across my crotch. This just made it worse, and often my body would tense up some, causing my erection to jump a little. Her eyes showed laughter whenever that happened.

Eventually I didn't even bother trying to hide it. The interplay was so obvious. In a way I kind of resented her toying with me like this, but what was I going to do? She got to tease me; I got to stare at her body for twenty minutes. I think my face was red the entire time though.

When she finally decided on an outfit, I got up to take my leave. She was back to only wearing her bra and panties. Before she trotted into the bathroom to shower up, she surprisingly grabbed me and gave me a tight hug. Not expecting this in the least, I found myself in that dumbass position where my hands were sort of floating in the air behind her, wondering where to go.

It might not have mattered if she let go right away, like a normal thank you hug. But this one dragged out a little too long. I felt my heartbeat speeding way up again. She moved her lips up to my ear and hushed out, "You're such a good helper! But let's keep this our little secret... Wouldn't want Chris to take it the wrong way... I mean, that I don't know how to dress myself..."

Something about that rubbed me the wrong way. It was at the same time both sweetly gracious, yet mockingly condescending. Instead of pulling away from me to end the hug, she pulled her body against mine and moved sideways. I closed my eyes as tiny fireworks exploded from the sensation against my still-hard cock. Standing there in my little state of heaven, I realized I hadn't moved for a few moments. When I opened my eyes, Rachel had already slid into the bathroom and turned on the shower water.

She appeared in the doorway and gave me a beaming smile. Her hands were raised behind her back as she began to unclasp her bra. It had the effect of stretching out her perfect, lean stomach and pushing her chest out provocatively at the same time. Was I going to see her tits?

"Talk to you later!" she chirped, shutting the door with her leg before I could see anything new.

Fuck. I went into my room and sat at the foot of my bed. My emotions were a serious jumble. I was horny as hell. But my euphoria was starting to wear off. In a way, I began to feel depressed that Chris had such a goddamn sultry goddess all to himself. I felt ashamed at the way she had me wrapped around her finger. I was like a puppet, drawn to stare at whatever part of her body she wanted. Made to say whatever she wanted to hear.

I clenched my teeth in frustration. Playing the little fashion show over in my mind, I felt like such a tool to her. She really likes showing off. The fucking tease. I didn't really recognize the fact that when I was jacking off to her just then, I wasn't actually thinking about her scandalous outfits nor having sex with her, but instead just the image of her coy little smile whenever she saw my erection.

III

Rachel continued to escalate her flirtations with me whenever Chris wasn't around. Of course when he was near, no scenes were to be made. But whether he was simply out of the room or out of the apartment, she always managed to turn up the heat a little with me to get me bothered. Nah, I never told Chris about it. I thought about it, but what was the point? I knew she wasn't actually trying to get with me. She just liked knowing she could. Besides, I'm sure she showed off plenty whenever she and Chris went out. Her flaunting behavior was no secret.

In any case, he went out of town one night for a concert. I was, yet again, home alone minding my own business. Naturally I wondered if Rachel would find some reason to stop by. It was already later in the evening when I found myself shaving and I actually laughed at myself when I caught my own obvious intentions. I was grooming myself in the event that she did show up. Get a hold of yourself. Sometimes I wondered if my attraction to her was getting a little out of control.

As the evening passed on, I found myself growing a little irritable. I didn't want to engage in anything worthwhile in the event that Rachel came over and interrupted me. In truth, I was probably just as irritated that she wasn't coming over to crash my night and talk to me. On this disappointment, however, I was wrong.

She did come over. Of course she didn't even bother knocking. She just strolled right on in. Upon seeing me, she greeted me with a cutely exacerbated hey as she related how obnoxious her roommate was being tonight.You wouldn't mind if I crashed in Chris's room, right? Oh, of course not, Rachel.

She was wearing a little pair of running shorts; the kind that really show off a girl's ass. On top was an exercise shirt that was pretty tight. It wasn't at all low-cut, but I could still see her curves perfectly.And it didn't come down all the way, revealing a good bit of her stomach. Ah, the casual sexy look. I had to wonder if she actually had any intention of hitting up a gym, or if she wore that just to torment me.

At first, she didn't pay me any attention. She just went into Chris's room and relaxed a bit. I figured maybe she really did just want to find an escape. I had been cleaning up the kitchen; mostly, I admit, just for the sake of making myself available in case she wanted to visit. She didn't take the bait. It was getting late and, feeling dejected, I decided to just head to my own room to zonk off for the night.

I had no sooner taken my shirt off when I heard a quick knock on my door. Without my answering, Rachel swung it open and pouted, "I can't sleep yet! You wanna have a drink or something?"

Duh! My heart leapt in my throat, forcing me to clear it before I could croak out, "Sure." I turned back to the bed to grab my shirt, but she quickly stepped in, took a hold of me, and pulled me into the kitchen with a little girl's yay!

Sitting at the kitchen table, I was already feeling a little self-conscious from being half-naked in front of her. She had grabbed a cheap bottle of wine from the fridge and was pouring us each a glass without a care. I had no idea what to talk about, so I just let her lead the conversation (as always happened).

For once she actually showed some interest in my life. She asked about old girlfriends and why I wasn't dating anybody now. Anytime I said something slightly unfortunate she would give me a sympathetic aww and give an adorable little frown. Although I felt that she was patronizing me, I couldn't help but like her attention.

As our glasses became refilled, it became obvious she loosening up a bit. She turned the conversation explicitly from the romantic to the sexual.

"You know, it's weird... Guys, they don't know what they want," she giggled, "Half the time they want an innocent little virgin..." She dragged out virgin a little bit and batted her eyes at the sky, pretending a look of virtuousness. "And the rest of the time, well, they want a naughty little slut!" She said that so sharply that it actually startled me. Her eyes were leveled right at mine too, with her mouth slightly open in that sensual I'm in heat look. I was rock hard.

I let out a little laugh, not really knowing what to say. Her teasing always had an air of innocence to it, like she never really meant anything. This was still the same way but... Still, somehow more overt than usual.

"Like, take Chris for instance," she continued. "When we... when we're having sex, he likes to talk dirty to me, you know?"

"Uh... I- I don't um..."

She laughed at me. "Oh! Of course you don't know. But I'm like, telling you now. He likes to call me dirty names and pretend to punish me for being this total promiscuous thing..."

Yeah. Pretend. Right.

"...but when we go out, he gets paranoid, you know? Like I'm actually going to be that way." She rolled her eyes and shook her head incredulously at me.

"Ah, well... I don't know much about it..." I lamely offered.

"I mean, so what if I flirt a little bit, right? It's not like he never does either. Big deal! It's not cheating!"

"Yeah, that's probably true."

She turned her attention from herself to me. "So, are you any different? Did you like your girlfriends to be naughty?"

I swallowed hard. The awkward look on my face must have been palpable.

"Come on, I told you about me..." She said it so seductively. Maybe it was her charm. Maybe it was the alcohol. But for whatever reason I actually opened up a little.

"Sure, I guess... I mean, I'm like any guy..."

"Oh!" she exclaimed with surprised joy. "Details!"

"Well, I dunno," I was getting sheepish again.

"Come on! Tell me the kinkiest thing you did with your last girlfriend!"

"Uh, well... She dressed up in a schoolgirl outfit, you know," I felt so lame, "...It was uh, popular for a while, you remember..."

Her face flushed in a huge grin; one of pure satisfaction and glee, like she just caught me in something. "Ooh! Did she pretend she was eighteen again? Or is that not naughty enough... seventeen?"

My face managed to flush an even deeper red than usual. "No... noth-nothing like that..."

"Aww!" she pouted, sticking out her lower lip. "That's what I would'a done... A tiny little plaid skirt and, what, knee-high socks, right? And I'd talk younger, I'd say, 'Sir, I'm sorry I misbehaved in class today... I'm here for my punishment'... Right? I bet that's what you'd... what guys' would like to hear."

My heart was racing in my chest. I don't think I even blinked, just watching her talk. Somehow her describing it was even hotter than my actual memory. It seemed like a full minute passed in silence as she just watched me sit there, as if waiting for a reply. I managed to mutter some kind of agreement.

"Hmm, maybe I'll do that for Chris..." She got up from her seat. I stared hungrily at her body, imagining it in a schoolgirl uniform. She traced her hands up the back of her thighs and rested them on her pert ass. With a little swat, she said, oh so quietly, "He'll definitely want to spank me..."

I couldn't believe this. Closing my eyes, I rubbed them with my thumb and forefinger, wondering why she was tormenting me like this. At least I was still sitting down; my throbbing hard-on was mostly hidden from view.

"Do all boys like that?" she piped up, drawing me out.

"Huh?" I opened my eyes.

"Spanking," she purred. "I mean, is that a popular thing?" She asked so naively, as if she wasn't perfectly aware exactly what any man liked.

"I uh, I dunno."

"Well, what about you?"

"It- it depends, I guess..."

"Oh what?"

"On the- on the girl."

"So, like your ex-girlfriend? Did you want to spank her?"

"I uh- I dunno, she wasn't really the type..."

"Ooh, tell me! What's the spanking type?"

What a fucking inquisition! I didn't know how to answer her just then. I was feeling sorely uncomfortable, that this was in no way under control. But she kept looking at me with those eyes that just convince you to keep going, despite yourself. "A... a tease!" I blurted out.

She was standing fairly near me. I think I actually managed to stun her for once. The silence was heavy as she leveled her gaze right at me. Her jaw was a little crooked as she stood there, reflecting on what I had said. Taking a step closer to me, her mouth quirked up a little bit. Now she was right next to me.

Despite my racing heartbeat, my breaths were shallow. I could feel the heat between us. She pushed forward over my chest to reach across the table, forcing me to lean back to give her room. That just encouraged her to bend unnecessarily further over to reach an empty glass. Her torso was practically horizontal now, but she kept her legs mostly straight... sticking out her ass perfectly. I couldn't help but to gawk at it.

"Hmm," she mused to herself. "So you want to spank a tease..."

She could probably feel the tent in pants across her stomach. I swear to you, my hands almost had a mind of their own right then. How bad I wanted to just run up those perfect legs and cup those tight cheeks... Once she grabbed the glass, she swiveled her body away from me, turning her ass into my lap as she turned.

The sensation got the better of me and both of my hands instinctively went to her hips. My palms tentatively rested against her shorts, my fingertips gingerly touched the skin of her legs just below the hem.

"Oh!" she let out with a little moan. "Sorry about that..." She stood straight up then, and my hands fell away to my lap. I got one last, close look at her rear before she nonchalantly skipped into the kitchen, putting away the glassware. With a little bump into the countertop, she giggled, "Whoa oh! I think that was the sauce..."

I laughed a little, realizing the situation was being diffused.

"I think I can probably check out now... Thanks for the chat!" She beamed at me, stretching her arms high, making sure I got a great view of her long, flat stomach. I nodded a no problem and waited for her to leave before I got up. She didn't.

"Are you going too?"

"Uh, yeah..."

"Well get up so I can turn the light off for us!"

There was no sense fighting it. I raised myself from the chair and tried to ignore her obvious grin as she stared at my rock-hard cock. To add insult to injury, it had sprung loose from beneath my boxers and had been rubbing against the fabric of my pants, so she could probably see little wet dots of pre-come. Satisfied, she giggled a goodnight to me and turned off the light. Before she retreated into Chris's room, she advised, "By the way, better not tell Chris about this. Wouldn't want him to get jealous that I had a drink with... another man!" She said those last words with mock dramatization and playfully rolled her eyes. I agreed and said goodnight.

IV

I usually left for work pretty early in the morning, but today I was going in late. That meant Chris would actually get out the door before me. I guess that's the setup that allowed the following event to happen.

I had only been in the shower for a few minutes. I had already washed my hair and was soaping up my abdomen and dick. I'll admit since I was in no hurry this morning, I was enjoying myself; sliding my hand back and forth and thinking about Rachel. It had only been a few days since our last little chat, but since then, I couldn't help but fantasize about her relentless teasing and imagining her begging to be spanked. Of course I had no intention of making a move on her but... Well, it was nice to think about.

So you can imagine I was a little lost in my own world. I didn't hear the bathroom door open. What I did hear, to my own mortification, was the shower curtain getting pulled back and Rachel breathing out, "Hey, I'm in a serious hurry. I'm gonna hop in, kay?"

My eyes shot open and I think my entire body hopped at the shock. There was her face, peaking around the curtain, looking straight at me with those big eyes. She had said it so matter-of-factly... how does she do that? I realised my hand was still on my soapy, hard cock and I immediately let go, which made it bounce and displayed my erection even more obviously. "Uh, I'll just- um, be thirty seconds..."

With a near-imperceptible grin, she slipped back behind the curtain, calling out, "No, don't worry about it." For a second, I assumed that meant she would wait me out, and she just wanted an excuse to catch and embarrass me in the shower. Nope. The next thing I know, the curtain is flinging open as she is hopping into the shower with me, completely nude. Holy...

Let me take this opportunity to describe that this is not your fancy shower and bathtub model. It was just one of the little ghetto stand-only shower stalls; that is to say, room for one. So you can imagine my anxiety at this situation. My first fear expressed itself, "Whoa! Uh, Chris?" For all her effort to make sure he didn't see her most blatant flirtations with me, this seemed outrageous.

"Oh, don't worry about him..." she pushed her body against mine and moved between me and the water, beginning to rinse herself down. "He left already."

My brain was going at warp speed. I think I actually heard whistling in my ears, I was so over-stimulated. Was this happening? Was I actually staring at her completely naked tits, watching the water run down her chest, over her nipples, down her stomach, between her legs... I was so nervous; maybe under different circumstances my hard-on would have died down. But at this point, it actually ached.

There was probably some faint thought in the back of my mind that told me, just get out of the shower. If it was there, it was without a doubt deafened by Rachel's naked! I gawked at her like a moron until she interrupted my trance.

"Sorry about this, I am so late!" She grabbed the soap and was lathering her tits and stomach up. Ignoring me, she stood right in the middle of the little shower so the water hit her comfortably. I was backed right up against the wall, but I was still right next to her. My dick pulsed with each heartbeat; it was literally inches from her... As she continued to soap up her front, she bit her lower lip and gave my erection a good look. "Did I... interrupt something?"

Oh Jesus. "I- uh- no! You, um..."

She let out a giggle and held down her hand with the bar of soap. She was holding it out for me, but it was resting right down at my cock, right next to it. I mean, her fucking hand was parallel to it, standing proudly at attention. "Come on! Do my back, I said I'm in a hurry!" She pushed the soap toward me and her pinky and ring fingers lightly brushed against my hard-on. With a sharp intake of breath, I grabbed the soap from her.

Rachel immediately spun around and began to rinse off her chest and arms. I stood there with the soap in hand for a moment, wondering if she actually meant what she said. As if to answer me, she shot me an annoyed glare over her shoulder. "Help me out!" As if afraid to offend her, I lathered up my hands at once and began rubbing the soap into her shoulders and upper-back.

I became completely transfixed by my own actions; delicately but firmly massaging the soap into her. I'm not sure if I was giving her such attentive treatment because I was in heaven getting to rub my hands along her back, or if I was afraid to speed things up and actually soap lower.

"Ah... That feels great but, do the whole thing!" she insisted to me.

I stopped massaging and just went to tentatively soaping up her mid-back. My hands stayed mostly in the middle of her back; I was nervous to stray somewhere that I shouldn't. But occasionally she would turn her body a little one way and my hands would slip along her sides, my fingertips nearly wrapping around to her stomach or the sides of her tits.

Next thing I knew, I was soaping up her lower back, staring at her perfect ass, so close to my throbbing cock. Suddenly, she took a big step back and began working to wash around the inside of her thighs. There was no more room, and her body was actually pressed up against mine now. My hard-on literally slipped between her legs. I grunted out a startled whoa! My soapy hands instinctively wrapped around her hips.

The feeling of her skin brushing against my cock was exhilarating. It sent a rush of blood through my body so fast that, for a second, I was light-headed. Rachel rubbed at her thighs and pussy with one of her hands. When they went between her legs, her fingers brushed up against the tip of my member and ran along the underside of it. I bit my tongue to prevent myself from moaning.

In an instant, she flipped around and was facing me. She let the water run down her shoulders and rinse off her back. I was looking right into her trademark smile: disarmingly casual yet subtly mocking. "This must look really bad, huh?" she grinned.

"Uh... h-huh?"

"If Chris saw this, he would flip! But it's not like we're fucking or anything..." She said fucking so offhandedly that it actually made sense. "You're just helping a girl out in a hurry!" she cheered.

Yeah. Sure.

"I'm glad you're so cool about this. Other guys would think this was cheating or something. People need to relax!" When she said cheating, she pushed her waist forward and looked behind her shoulder to rinse off the last bit of soap from her lower-back and ass. By doing this, she pushed my still-hard cock between her legs again, running along the outside of her pussy. I closed my eyes in agony.

She opened the shower curtain and moved to step out. Of course she leaned forward and pushed her tits against my chest, dragging her nipples against me. I felt the last bits of amazing sensation on my dick as she moved to step out of the shower, freeing me from between her legs. On her way out, she playfully traced a finger across my erection and chirped, "Thanks a lot; you can... finish up now!"

I saw one last smile as she whipped a towel off the rack and closed the shower curtain. I heard the bathroom door open and close. Paranoid as I was, I actually peeked out of the curtain to make sure she actually left. Taking a deep breath, I tried to relax a little bit, feeling bottled up tension in my shoulders. With the soap, I attempted to just go back to washing myself, but it was no use. Before I knew it, I was jerking myself off right there, fast and hard.

Imagining the feeling of my cock between her legs, I started to breathe faster. If only I was actually in that goddamn pussy of hers... But no, then she'd be cheating... The thought of it made me so desperate. I don't think I had come that much in a long, long time.

V

"Come in here!"

It was only a few days since the shower when I found myself alone with Rachel again. Chris was gone playing poker for a boys' night out. I could've gone, but I didn't. Chances are that under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have gone with him anyway. But now, I had to admit that with the near guarantee that Rachel would be crashing at our place, I had even more reason to pass on cards. She had been holed up in Chris's room for a couple hours but, sure enough, she was finally calling to me.

"What is it?" I called back.

"Just come on!"

I moved to the doorway to see what she wanted. She was standing proudly by the bed, which had towels laid over it. I bunched up my forehead and looked back at her.

"I thought, you've been so nice to me, it's time I pay my share!" she chirped. "Take off your clothes!"

Huh? I wasn't expecting that. "Sorry, what?" I shot back defensively.

"I'm gonna give you a massage! Strip to your boxers!"

I began to blush. "I uh... That's not necessary..."

"Oh please. I would've thought we'd be passed this by now... I mean, you don't have anything left to hide!" She giggled a little. I was still apprehensive. "Oh gosh, fine! If it'll make you feel better, I'll do it too." She was already tugging her shirt up and over her chest as she said that. As she threw it on the floor and began undoing her jeans, she shot me an impatient glare. "Let's go!"

So the next thing I knew, despite myself, I was stripped down to my boxers; she was down to just panties and bra. I only got a short minute to drool over her body before I found myself lying on the bed on my stomach, with Rachel sitting over my ass, straddling me with one leg to each side. She was attentively rubbing my neck, shoulders and upper-back. I'll tell ya, it felt damn good.

At first, as usual, my blood was racing from her hot body being so close to mine. Her initial touch on my back felt amazing, and I reveled in the extended contact of her skin on mine. I was thankful that I was on my stomach and she couldn't see my growing hardness. After a little while though, I actually managed to relax and calm down a bit.

We didn't talk too much. She chatted mostly on her own for a time; I would occasionally reply back with a tranquil moan. She told me she could never just give Chris a massage because he was too impatient; he would just want sex right away. But not you, you can just lie there and relax like a good boy. Sure. Wouldn't think of fucking.

After a while she gave up talking and just quietly hummed to herself. She worked my lower back, then skipped all the way down to my calves. I felt myself growing again as she worked up to my thighs. I was surprised when she actually began kneading my ass through the boxers. It felt good, and I tried to relax and not make a big deal of it. But knowing she was consciously fondling my butt was a little too much to ignore.

I'm sure she knew that.

"Okay, flip!"

I panicked. She didn't care. Her fingers were digging under my shoulders, helping to push me over. She got off of me just long enough to roll me onto my back, and then she straddled back on right above my waist. I looked helplessly up into her smiling face as she went back to her little hum and began working the front of my shoulders and chest.

There was no helping myself this time. Now I could actually see her mostly-nude form as she worked away on my skin. And my chest was way more sensitive than my back. I actually twitched and stifled little laughs when she worked into my stomach because it tickled. The sensations were too much; it shot straight between my legs and gave me a serious hard-on. I knew she could feel it behind her, tenting up rear of her seat. She didn't mention it.

After rubbing my stomach, she got off of me and moved down the bed to work on my ankles and move up my legs, as she did before. My mind was reeling, wondering if she would actually touch it. As dead-sexy as she was, I decided to simply close my eyes and try to picture some tranquil scene in order to get some control over my standing embarrassment.

Up, up she went to my thighs. The closer she got, the more I throbbed with anticipation. The redder my face got. The faster my heart beat.

"That looks uncomfortable," she pouted. My eyes popped open and I saw her gingerly undo the little button in the front of my boxers. I was completely petrified. It seemed like she didn't even have to try; my erection sprung out effortlessly, newly free from its confines and pulsing with each surge of blood. "That's better!" she proudly announced, as if to herself.

She began rubbing her fingers back into my thighs, working under the legs of my boxers. I took a huge breath and closed my eyes again, enjoying the amazing sensation in spite of my humiliation. Fuck all if I had anything to say.

"I know you're not seeing anybody right now but... Don't you ever... take care of this problem?" she tentatively asked me. God. Talk about awkward.

"Uhm... Well..." I trailed off, hoping she was already amused enough.

"Well what? Do you?"

I sighed. "Yeah..."

"Oh," she cooed softly. She was rubbing just above the base of my dick now. I was in agony. "Am... I the problem?"

I managed to open my eyes and look at her. She was staring at me, delicately biting her lower lip. She wore a look of such concern but I knew it was total bull. "Well uh... It's not everyday I have a- uh... hot, um, girl giving me a personal massage..." God, did I just say she was...

She let out a little gasp. "Oh my! You think I'm hot?"

Oh for fuck's sake. I hated this little cat and mouse game as much as I loved it. "Oh ha ha," I managed to actually be sarcastic. Having had about enough of this humiliation, I began to push myself to sit up. I was stopped in my tracks as she actually brushed her hand up against my cock as she moved it to my stomach to stop me.

"No, don't go!" she pleaded innocently. I halted. "I didn't mean to be rude... I'm flattered..."

I let her push me back down and she moved off of me in order to sit next to me. "I wish I could massage... it for you, but... That might be bad..." she pouted to me.

Just be bad! "Yeah uh... Probably not, uh- appropriate..." I stammered.

"Why don't you just do it now?"

Did she just say that? "Huh!?"

"Why not? I'm trying to help you relax... I probably shouldn't touch it but..." she put her hands on mine and moved me towards my own erection.

"Um, Rachel, I- uh..."

She cut me off, "Do you ever... think about me?" She carefully wrapped my hand around myself. Her soft fingers were still touching mine, and she gently guided me to start stroking. I helplessly allowed it to happen, completely mortified.

I gulped hard, my eyes shooting from her curious stare to her tits, to her stomach, to her hands, to my hands.

"Because, there's nothing wrong with that... I mean, if you do it anyway, then what's the difference if I'm right here or not?" she was reasoning out loud. Was this actually happening? My body was trembling from nerves and excitement. I found myself gingerly stroking myself without her encouragement.

She slid her fingers away from me and leaned back a little bit. This had the effect of stretching out her body some; I knew she was making a kind of casual pose for me. She was baring the entire length of her stomach, showing it all off.

"So... do you?"

"I uh... Y-yeah..."

Her face flushed in a big smile. "No wonder you always seem so excited!"

I groaned a little chuckle, red as a tomato, but still touching myself slowly.

"What do you... What do you think about?" She questioned innocently.

"I dunno... Just, just you I- I guess..."

"Oh... Like, my body?"

I let out a sigh as I dragged my eyes across her perfect form. "Yeah," I breathed out.

She ran her hands along her stomach and sides. "What part do you like to imagine?"

"Um, all of- everything... Your stomach, your ti- your breasts..." I was dazed at this point. I probably thought I was dreaming.

She cupped her breasts in her bra and looked down at them with a little smile. "I guess I'm not wearing this when you... do it, right?"

"Uh... I guess, n-no."

She gave a gentle smile as she undid her bra and let it drop to the bed. I let out a soft moan of surprise as I saw her tits spring free. I began to squeeze myself harder and tugged with more enthusiasm.

"Well, I want it to be an authentic experience..." she coyly informed me. Her hands were running over her breasts, her fingers occasionally tweaking her nipples lightly. "Chris wouldn't appreciate this but... Since you do this on your own anyway, I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Do you?"

I blinked hard, realizing she asked me a question. "Um, yeah- er- no... You're- you're right..."

"Yeah, it's not like I'm… cheating or anything. You're just seeing for real what you fantasize about... No... big deal..." She said it so seductively, but there was a ring of innocence to her voice. I think it just made it that much hotter. I was giving myself slow, strong strokes then; focusing on squeezing the base of my dick. I knew it wouldn't be long.

"Is that how you normally do it?" she inquired sweetly.

"Uh... er, yeah..."

She breathed out so sexily, "I like it..." She was biting her lower lip again in that ultra-hot look of anticipation. I was gone.

With a quiet cry, I felt my climax surge up and out of control. The first spurt shot up and landed on my stomach. With one hand still furiously tugging myself at the base, I wrapped my other hand around the head to try and catch the streams of cum shooting out of me. My hips involuntarily thrust upwards and my eyes fluttered shut as I groaned out in orgasm.

For that short while I was in total bliss. As I began to calm down, I realised what had just happened and my face flushed back to a deep red. "Oh my god..." I groaned to myself.

"Wow! That was... nice..." Rachel exclaimed.

"Jesus Rachel I'm- ah fuck, I'm sorry..."

She actually laughed a little at me. "What! I wanted you to feel good! That's the whole point! Besides, I kinda liked it..."

I shook my head to myself, speechless.

"Do you feel better?" She cooed to me.

"Uh... yeah..."

She ran her hand through my hair and tousled it a little bit. "Good! You should probably go get cleaned up now... Chris will be home soon..."

The mention of her boyfriend caused me to jolt upright. She tried to calm my anxiety. "He just wouldn't... understand. We're just friends!" she perked, like a cheerleader. Huh. Some friend. I grunted my agreement and got up from the bed. There was cum dripping on my stomach and my hands were still clutching my cock, holding it from spilling all over. I felt so graceless. Rachel just continued to beam her aloof but knowing smile.

I treated myself to a quick shower. When I got out, I noticed she had shut the door and was back to her own thing. I was silently thankful and retreated to my own room. Fifteen minutes later, Chris came home. I pretended I was asleep, so he didn't try and tell me about the card game. It wasn't much later that I heard the familiar sounds of his and Rachel's fucking next door.

VI

The following Saturday night, I found myself alone in bed, reading a book until I was tired enough to sleep. I found myself to be increasingly restless; I was constantly thinking about Rachel and the boundaries she pushed with me. She was out with Chris that evening, so I knew with resigned jealousy that he would get all of her affection that night. I was angry at my own feelings; she was Chris's girlfriend anyway. I was getting carried away.

I don't remember what time it was when they both showed up. I heard them stumble in, stifling laughter and failing miserably at being quiet. If I had any chance of falling asleep soon, I knew it was now ruined.

Normally the couple headed straight to Chris's room. Tonight though, something was different. I heard their voices in the living room for a prolonged period and what sounded like some kind argument. I sat up and tried to listen closer. So much for privacy.

"Come on, I don't wanna wake him up... What if he comes out here...?" It was Chris's voice.

"Shh! Relax, he never comes out!" Rachel was insisting to him.

I heard a few more muffled sounds. Between quiet giggles and soft moans, I was sure they were deciding to fuck out of their room for once. Now, I promise you, this normally isn't something I would do. Let the lovers be, sure. But tonight? For whatever reason, I felt the need to try and sneak a peek. Maybe Rachel was bringing out the worst in me.

As careful as I could, I turned off my bed lamp, slowly opened my door and tried to look down the hall. My eyes adjusted to the dark and I could hear them a bit better. The little bursts of laughter seemed to have been completely replaced by rustling sounds and restrained moans. I thought about turning back, but at that moment I heard Rachel with a hoarse whisper, "It's fun when it's naughty..."

My cock jumped in my boxers as if pointing me, onward, this way! I obligingly snuck, inch by inch, down the hallway until I got to the very edge. The further I got, the more acute the sounds of their actions became. Chris was trying his best to keep his grunting silent. I rolled my eyes a little, wondering if he really thought it made that big a difference if he was outside his room. I could always hear him in there but, then again, I was spying on him this time...

With a deep breath, I peeked my head around the corner and could see the entire living room. It was fairly illuminated because the window blinds were open and the streetlights from outside poured in. Chris was sitting on the couch, the back of which was to me, with his arms spread out on the top of it. Rachel was on her knees next to him, one arm resting on the back of the couch like Chris, the other down below where I couldn't see. From her shoulder's movements, her intent expression, and Chris's composure, it was obvious she was giving him a hand job.

I watched this for maybe a minute tops, I don't know how long really, when she noticed me. Chris was still facing away from me; he had no way of knowing I was there unless he turned around. But Rachel only had to look up and notice my shadowy form standing at the end of the hallway.

For a second I panicked. I stood as still as possible, hoping against hope that she would look away. I didn't want to duck back into the hall when she was staring in my direction because then I was positive she'd know for sure. But then I saw her smile. It was a slow, devious, calculating smile. She bit her lower lip at me and cooed, "Mmm, do you like this?"

My heart leapt in my throat. Was she blowing my cover? "Uh- yeah babe," Chris answered her. I shuddered with relief.

She changed her rhythm with her working hand, which had previously looked to have been quicker strokes. Her shoulder rolled slower now. Chris groaned.

"What's the matter?" she pouted.

"Ugh, you- you slowed down..."

"I... heard some guys like long, slow strokes..." She glanced back in my direction. Did she wink? "Maybe so they can... savour the pleasure..."

Chris seemed to give a reluctant expression.

"Maybe this'll make it better..." she leaned back and effortlessly pulled her shirt up and off, tossing it carelessly away. As she undid her bra, she was looking back at me, sticking her chest out a bit so I could get a better view from my vantage point. Although I was nervous, I was almost fully hard. I began to fondle myself through my boxers.

With her tits free, she went back to working on Chris's cock. "How's that? Does that make it better?" she asked in a sweet voice. By the way she kept drawing her gaze back to me, I knew she wasn't directing the comment at Chris. This girl was something else.

This lasted for a little while when she suddenly stopped and stood up from the couch. Now I could tell she was wearing a loose, short skirt. My hard-on was at full mast as I gawked at her body. She pulled her underwear down from underneath the fabric, leaving the skirt on. As she pulled them off from her legs, she stood back up and tossed them over the couch towards me.

She giggled a little but quickly turned to look at Chris. She stood with her legs apart a little and ran her hands up her thighs, pushing the skirt up to expose her naked pussy. She let it drop back down as she continued to caress her stomach and then tits, playing with her nipples. The same way she did when I jacked off in front of her. She looked so goddamn hot; the light filtering in through the blinds painted against her skin in an exotic way that seemed to accentuate her already amazing curves. All she was wearing was that frilly skirt. Keeping it on was somehow naughtier and sexier than her being totally in the buff.

She bent over Chris and was tugging on something. I realised she was pulling his jeans all the way off. Then she climbed on top of his lap. He was still sitting back, facing away from me. By the way his head followed her body, I could only imagine the excited smile he wore. As she straddled him, he finally moved his arms off the back of the couch and felt up her perfect breasts before he slid them down to her hips.

Rachel had one hand balancing herself on the couch behind Chris's shoulder. I knew she was guiding him into her with the other hand. I could almost feel it myself as I heard Chris let out a low growl and Rachel take in a sharp gasp as she let out an ooh. I closed my eyes briefly in anguish, oh to be on that couch right now...

They found a steady rhythm and she put her other hand on the couch, using them both to help balance and steer her movements against Chris. Her face alternated between occasional smiles at Chris, her eyes closed in pleasure as she leaned her head back, and staring directly into my eyes with a look of raw lust. After a couple minutes she started talking again, catching my stare.

"I really like that you think about me..." Her voice was sultry.

Chris grunted a confused, "Huh?"

She pulled her stare from me to him. "You think about me, don't you?"

"Uh- yeah... of-of course..."

Her eyes closed again as she concentrated on riding him. "I think that's so hot... I like to imagine you masturbating to me..." She was looking intently at me again. "That's not so wrong, is it?" she asked in a pseudo-innocent voice. She bit her lower lip again at me. I was chewing on my own lip to keep quiet as I jerked off, watching.

"Ah- no, not-not wrong," he muttered, somewhat mystified.

"Oooh, good... I'm glad you don't mind. It just- ah- turns me on so much to know you can't help it... That you gotta touch yourself thinking about me..."

Maybe I should have felt guilty about this. Who was she being cruel to? To Chris because he didn't realize she was talking about me? Or to me because I wasn't the one whose cock was in her pussy? At that moment though, all I could think about was her naked torso slowly raising and lowering, her eyes piercing into mine, and her hot words making me burn with want.

"I- I love being able to see your cock," she breathed. As if following a command, I thoughtlessly pushed my boxers down and pulled out my hard-on so it was in plain view. She moaned deeply.

By now she was only giving cursory glances at Chris; mostly she was looking past him and at me. By the way his head was rolled back against the couch, I think his own eyes were shut as he reveled in his own pleasure. I could tell Rachel's breathing was beginning to pick up. Her arms began to tremble slightly as she pushed herself into him, slower now but with more intention.

"Mmm this is so hot... I want- I want you to cum for me..." she purred.

"Don't worry baby, I will," he returned.

"Ah- ah- no, not... I- I really mean it... Come for me, please!" She was staring straight at my crotch, watching me pump myself. I knew she meant me. I squeezed myself harder at the base and gave myself quicker tugs, working myself up. Although the situation was surreal, I knew I was going to be able to blow. Shit, just the way she was talking...

"Yeah! Do it, come for me! Do it!" she was panting now. Chris was mumbling that he would soon. I didn't need to wait. The thought of Rachel desperate to see me explode was just too hot. She was begging to me. I felt the familiar floating sensation rush through my entire body in that brief second that occurs before orgasm is inevitable. Then the amazing rush up my thighs, down my stomach, and between my legs as I felt the first huge stream spurt out of me.

I had one hand still pulling furiously at the base. I cupped my other hand out in front of the head, catching the creamy ropes of cum that shot out of me. I tried my best to hold it out a ways so that Rachel could see it spurt out and into my palm. As it happened, she cried out, "Oh god! Yessss! Come for me, you're so hot!" Then her entire body began to shake as she threw her head back and tried to muffle out her cries.

Holy shit. Watching her cum right then was probably the crowning achievement of my life. My own climax would have started to fade, but simply watching her shot a fresh surge of animal heat through me, and I just kept on coming into my hand. My knees actually buckled a little bit and I had to lean against the wall to keep standing.

As Rachel clutched the back of the couch and rode her orgasm, Chris finally lost control. I heard him grunt, "Finally!" and give out a staggered groan. Rachel seemed to come back to earth then and she pulled her face back down. She leveled her gaze at me as her chest heaved with heavy breaths. Her face was completely flushed and, for once, she didn't have that look of total control painted on her face with a smirk. We returned each other's look for a few moments like that. She then mouthed a silent wow to me and smiled.

I felt like a king right then. She didn't say wow. Chris didn't see that. Only I did. And was that actually a surprised smile on her face? My reverie was broken when I noticed Chris trying to push himself up from the couch. Rachel's eyes grew wide and I actually saw a glimmer of panic as she feared losing control of the situation.

She pushed him back down on the couch as she got up herself, giving him a controlling smile. With one last glance at me, she gave a slight nod toward my room. I didn't need any more encouragement; my own courage was failing me now. I tip-toed as fast as I could back into my room and silently closed the door behind me, cum still pooled in one of my hands.

VII

Sunday morning was a little awkward. The three of us ate breakfast together and I pretended like I was none-the-wiser about their late-night romp in the living room. For her part, Rachel played it completely cool as well, although she managed to sneak knowing glances at me, and it was all I could do not to crack a stupid grin back at her.

Most of the day passed by without incident until the evening, when Chris was going out to a barbeque his brother was hosting. He invited both me and Rachel along. I declined, causing him to roll his eyes and tell me I needed to get out more. Rachel claimed that she should probably get back to her place and make sure her neglected stuff was still intact. Chris shrugged.

Around five o'clock, Chris was almost out the door. He gave each of us one last chance to tag along, but we both declined. Rachel was visibly packing her things up, getting ready to return home. I wondered which of them was going to leave first; part of me actually hoped it was Rachel. I had been bustling with nervous energy all day and I wanted to actually relax.

I should have known it was not to be. No sooner had Chris left and closed the door behind him that I saw Rachel standing, hands on her hips, staring right at me. She turned her head to the door for a moment, waited a few seconds, then returned her gaze to me. "You," she broke the silence, "are a very bad boy!"

My face flushed red.

"Oh, you're not going to deny it?" She gave me an angry glare, but there was a hint of playfulness in her voice. She took a step closer.

I put up my hands in mock defense. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She took another step, her chin tilted down a little bit like she was coming to pick a fight. She got right up next to me and put her face in front of mine. I could feel her breath, she was so close. I felt my resolve giving away. "I saw you watching me..."

My heart was doing a drum solo in my chest. "I could uh- say the... the same to you..."

Her face softened a little bit. Her jaw hung open a little, leaving her with a coy open-mouthed smile. She moved her face even closer to mine; for a second I thought she was going to try and kiss me. Then she whispered, and I felt her sweet breath in my mouth as she said, "Well, I liked what I saw..."

I swallowed hard. I wanted to take a step back to make some space, but I somehow felt frozen in place. My mouth moved to try and say something, but words failed me. She smiled condescendingly for a brief second, then softened her face into one of mock-innocence. Her hand touched the side of my abdomen and traced down to my hip. She looked down at my crotch, which was now steadily growing, and without looking back up, said, "I wouldn't mind seeing it again..."

I closed my eyes and gasped a little. "You ah- what?" (Forgive my incessant eloquence.)

She gave me a shy smile which, by some means wasn't shy at all. "I've been thinking about it all day..." She moved her face up and hushed right in my ear, "Is that... wrong?"

"I uh..." I was panicking.

"I mean... It's just watching, right? That's not so bad..."

I don't care how bad it is... "No but, maybe uh- I mean..." I was having second thoughts. Call it a sudden qualm of morality. Or maybe fear that Chris would come back. Or maybe just anticipation-overload.

She cut me off, "Maybe we should relax..." She looked back into my eyes for an answer. I think I was looking at her a bit incredulously, but my resolve was broken. And she knew it. With a little giggle, she finally tucked her head away from me and took a step away. I stood there in bewilderment and she turned and gave a little pout. "Come on!" she urged, grabbing my wrist and guiding me. She was wearing a pair of loose sweats that had angel written across the ass. She paused in front of the doorway to Chris's room, then with a mischievous glint, noted, "You know, I've never even been in your room before." She continued to lead me to my own quarters.

Once in my room, I felt vaguely unsettled. I didn't really believe what was happening in the first place; and the fact that we were in the only sanctuary I had left from her made me feel particularly vulnerable. She spread her arms out wide and spun around, taking in the scenery and cooing oooh! Like a girl in Disneyland for the first time. I rolled my eyes, but she ignored me and dropped herself onto the foot of the bed, lying back with her legs hanging off the edge.

Her arms were stretched backward, over her head, which caused her shirt to ride up and expose a fair portion of her stomach. I looked longingly at the exposed skin, then blinked hard, realizing I was just standing there, staring like a moron. "So, have a seat!" she chirped. I gave a sour smile and pulled up a chair to the foot of the bed, sitting in it a little embarrassed.

"Hmm," she mused to herself happily, "So this is where you do it?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Uh- hmm?"

"When you think about me." She was still lying back, but she propped herself up a bit on her elbows so she could look at me. There was this serious look on her face that unsettled me even more than usual. I placed my hands on my jeans, trying to wipe the sweat off that was starting to form on my palms.

"I... I..."

"Oh gosh, you're so shy!" She flopped back down onto her back exaggeratedly. "I would think by now we could be frank with each other!"

My face reddened. Somehow I actually felt guilty. "Sorry," I blurted out, "It's just... I mean- a little weird..."

She let out a little sigh. "You didn't seem to mind last night..."

I gave a sheepish smile.

"I really liked watching you..." She began tracing her fingers along her exposed stomach absentmindedly. "To be honest with you," her voice was suddenly very quiet, "I was hoping you'd come out and see me..."

I started coming to life then. "You- you did?"

Her eyes were closed as she lay there. "Mm hmm," she purred. She idly pulled her shirt up a little further so it bunched up just under her breasts. Her fingers continued to run along around her abdomen. It seemed so careless, but I watched every slight movement hungrily. "I couldn't stop thinking about... about when I gave you that massage... And you... you know."

Oh SHE couldn't stop thinking about it...

"Maybe it's kind of naughty but..." She said naughty so innocuously. My eyes were glued to her fingers as one hand tentatively began probing under the elastic band of the loose sweat pants. "...I guess I just can't- can't help myself..."

My breathing was growing heavier. I was almost completely hard now. My erection was straining against my jeans, begging for release. I shifted awkwardly in my chair to try and get more comfortable, but that only had the effect of rubbing it against the fabric of my underwear, causing it to crave more attention.

She tilted her head sideways so she could see me better while still lying down. "So... can I...?" her voice trailed off.

Gulp.

She repeated, pleading a little this time. "Can I see it again?"

I looked down at my own crotch. Should I really do this? I was still hesitating when I heard her whimper please? Any thoughts of my own melted away. I slowly closed my eyes and allowed my hands to undo my belt, undo the button on my jeans, shyly pull down the zipper... I pushed a hand down my pants and grabbed my hardness, sighing a little. "Let me see it..." she appealed.

Raising my ass off of the chair slightly, I worked my jeans and boxers off my waist and pushed them down to my knees. I was nervous as hell but, well, Rachel had a way of making me do things. I was throbbing at full attention. I heard her breathe out an ahh and I opened my eyes to see her looking straight at it, delicately chewing her lower lip. My eyes scanned the rest of her body and I was amazed to see one of her hands had pushed further down her sweats. Is she touching...?

"Mm, I was... I was hoping you wouldn't go with Chris tonight..." she mused. The mention of his name made me feel guilty, but that emotion was quickly overwhelmed with lust at the thought that Rachel was craving me instead. I saw her hand move in little circles and I was thrilled to know she was playing with herself, at least a little.

"But sometimes I- I wonder if... our relationship is getting... out of hand..." Her voice quavered a little bit, but I sensed it was more excitement than fear. "We're just- mm- friends, right?"

Wanting to reassure her in any way I could, I quickly grunted yes. Her lips curled into a smile and she extended her neck a bit as a little shiver ran through her body. "Good... I'd hate to think we were doing something... wrong." The forbidden nature of her dialogue just made me hotter.

"Come over here so- so I can see better." She scooted over to the side of the bed, making room for me. I timidly stood up, clumsily as my jeans fell to my ankles. Rachel giggled, "Just kick those off..."

I obliged her, one hand still tugging at the base of my erection. I stood over the bed, looking longingly at her, my eyes spending extra time hovering between her legs. She must have sensed what I was thinking. She pulled her legs up, knees to her chest, and deftly worked her sweats off. As they fell to the floor, I realized then her panties were gone too. My blood was pumping so hard that I was trembling.

She pulled herself back further into the bed, so her head reached the pillows. She moved one hand back to her pussy, gently rubbing the top of her slit. With the other hand, she patted the empty space of bed next to her, beckoning me. I cautiously sat down beside her lying body.

"Relax with me," she soothed. I obeyed and lied down next to her.

We stayed in that position for a minute. No words passing between us as we each gently masturbated. I watched her face change between closing her eyes in contented pleasure and opening them, watching me play with myself.

"What are you thinking about?" She spoke softly, but it rang heavily in the silence.

"Uh... Just- just how it feels..."

Her face flushed in a grin. "Me too..." At first I didn't realize what she meant. "Would it be a sin if I found out?"

My stroking halted as I grasped her intention.

"I mean... Would it really be so different from a massage?" She paused. I blinked at her, unable to respond. Yes!? She continued. "It wouldn't be cheating if you didn't... you know..."

Come? Can't argue with that logic. "Uh... maybe..."

She stopped touching herself and rolled onto her side, reaching a hand towards me. She gingerly wrapped her fingers around my own hand that I was using to stimulate with and pulled it away. Then slowly, oh so fucking gently, she wrapped her hand around my hard-on. Somehow it felt so soft and light, like feathers. The delicate touch made me realize my entire body was tensed up. As she softly tightened her grip around me, my eyes rolled back and I relaxed my muscles, reveling in the sensation.

She continued to stroke me softly; enough to tease pleasure out of me but not enough to really stimulate what I needed. As hard as I tried to remain cool and relaxed, my hips would involuntarily thrust against her hand, attempting to force a certain touch. Initially she made no comment at this, but deftly loosened or moved her grip to deny me the satisfaction. Finally once, she acceded and gave me a tighter squeeze around the base of my cock as I pushed into her. A low groan escaped my lips.

"Ah ah," she admonished, as if she hadn't let it happen on purpose. "You don't want to get too excited, do you?"

I gave her a guilty, sour smile. "Sorry I- I couldn't help..."

"Hmm, you're not going to lose control, right? That would be... inappropriate." Her voice was toying. "I just wanted to touch... Anything more might be wrong..."

God she was without mercy. I took a breath and clenched my fists, trying to gain control of my body. As I relaxed my hands, she slid one of her legs closer to me, causing me to slide my palm onto her smooth skin. Immediately upon touching her, my fingers had a mind of their own; they gently traced along her knee and thigh, her legs are perfect...

She started pulling on my dick a little harder, but she did in a way that was directing me. Like she was pulling me. I rolled onto my side to face her and she resumed her caressing. Without thinking, I pulled my other arm over and rested my hand right on the back of her thigh. She made a little gasp and rewarded me with a firm rub. My hips pushed into her further and my hand ran up and cupped her ass.

"What are you doing?" she inquired coyly. I squeezed her in response. Rational thought was in low supply at this point, and I was beginning to act on instinct.

"Nothing," I grunted.

"That didn't feel like nothing..." She trailed off. Her lips remain parted as she breathed, staring into me. She moved her other hand to the head of my cock and ran her smooth palm over it, sending a jolt through my body. "Maybe we should stop..."

My eyes squinted in disapproval.

"I mean... I wouldn't want you to think that we- that this is going someplace." Her eyes sparkled with innocence but her lips were curled up just-so.

"I thought we're just- just relaxing..." I said sardonically.

She couldn't suppress a grin. "Right... I wouldn't want you to think I'm a tease or anything." She bit the tip of her tongue with a wide smile. "I know what you want to do to them..."

I just about snapped then. I felt a rush go through my entire body, making me shiver for a second. Pushing my body up close to her, Rachel was actually taken by surprise. She let go of my cock and placed a hand on my hip. "Oh!" she inhaled. She retreated slightly by rolling onto her back. "Where are you going?"

Wordlessly I ran my hand along her stomach and down her abdomen. She shyly squeezed her legs together. "Nuh uh... That would be bad..."

"No it wouldn't." I blurted under my breath. "I mean, as long as you don't..."

"Don't what?"

"Get too excited."

She let out a little scoff and shot me a dirty look, but she parted her legs. My fingers instantly slipped down to her pussy. I lightly traced them along the slit and swallowed hard as I realized how wet she was. I pushed down harder at the top of her opening and rubbed in tiny circles. She let out a shaky sigh. "Is this... is this wrong...?"

I swear every time she warned that we were doing something wrong, I got twice as hot. She wrapped a hand around my hard-on again and was pulling me as she asked. Whether she meant it or not, I stopped massaging her pussy and pulled myself completely over her. She wore a look of fear and anticipation.

My cock felt even heavier as gravity pulled it down towards her. Her legs parted more and we found ourselves in the beginning stages of the missionary position. My lust got the better of me and I pushed down, hoping to get inside of her. With her hand still wrapped around me, she stopped my advance right between her legs. The tip of my dick was rubbing against her.

"I have a boyfriend," she cooed. "Are you trying to take advantage of me?"

"I'm not trying anything," I growled.

"You wouldn't... wouldn't make me cheat, would you?" she purred with pretend remorse.

Still holding the base of my cock and pushing against me, she held me still in position. But she slowly moved her own hips up and down, allowing me to fuck her with just the very tip of my cock. She was using me to play with herself.

I just stared at her, all thoughts focusing on her subtle movements. "I guess if we don't... cum... then it isn't so bad..." She was almost whispering.

Once she loosened her grip on me, I plunged into her unceremoniously. She let out a sharp gasp from the sudden movement that filled her. I shut my eyes in exquisite pleasure. Finally! She moved her hands on my ass and steered me, guiding me to a very slow, gentle rhythm.

We enjoyed each other silently for a minute until she started purring between strokes. "I thought- mm, about this when- when you watched me..."

"Y-yeah?"

"I- ahh­- imagined it was you I was- was riding..."

I felt pressure surging between my legs and stopped thrusting to get control over myself. She kept moving though. "I mean- just for a little- ohh- a little while... It was just a- a little fantasy..."

I continued to hold myself still, clenching my fingers into the sheets. Relax, don't come, relax, don't come...

"But now... I think I'm- I'm getting... oh... out of hand..." She continued to lift her hips into me, grinding little gyrations. "I feel so, god... I- I love that you get turned on... so easily... That first day we- umm... met. F-fuck... You were so help- ah- helpless... so hard..." Her breathing was getting shallow. She was turning me on so much; I was actually trying to tune her out. I was barely even moving and it was all I could do to stop from exploding into her.

She finally called me on it. "Are you- you're not gonna... you're not gonna cum inside me, are you?"

With clenched teeth, "Shit Rachel I- god!"

I felt her pussy clenching around me. "What is it? You don't want to ejaculate in your roommate's girlfriend, do you? That would be bad. That would be cheating..." The last sentences came out in broken moans. Her legs were trembling. Was she trying to...?

"Oh- oh! I can't believe this... I- I need it... so wrong, so wrong..." She was panting to herself now. I took in a huge breath through my teeth. I felt it. It was too late now. The huge rush built up in my pelvis, behind my cock. It would last two, maybe three seconds before it all came pouring out of me. My entire body went rigid as I tried to hold it back.

"Oh fuck, Rachel, I can't- I have to- have to..." the words tumbled out in rapid succession.

My entire world went blank as she interrupted me and cried, "Ohhh, you bastard!" All thoughts went void. Her whole body quaked as her hips bucked against me. I was floating as I felt each massive jet of cum spurt into her pussy. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was dimly amazed that she was coming too. But right then, I was just having the ride of my fucking life.

VIII

When it was over, I just sort of rolled off her, panting into my pillow, completely drained. I did not register what had happened. Eventually she got up from the bed and moved to the door. I groggily watched her pull her sweats back up over those long, smooth legs of hers. She had this dazed look on her face. It was really alien to me because she always looked so completely in control.

She gave me a look and a hesitant smile. "That... That wasn't supposed to happen..."

I blinked thoughtlessly. It wasn't?

"God that was..." she hissed an intake of air and squeezed her legs together, closing her eyes. She murmured, almost to herself, "We could've had so much more fun..." When she opened her eyes, she flashed me a quirky grin and relaxed her body. "Oh well," she said resignedly. She opened and closed her palm, giving me a cute wave, then slipped out of my room. I closed my eyes from mental as well as physical exhaustion, and fell asleep.

For more follow @xxstudssss

But things had started going south the moment he stepped into the café across the street. It wasn’t enough that he’d barged in without greeting the owner, Mr. Liang, and loudly demanded the bathroom. No, what had really set things in motion was the fact that he’d decided to “borrow” one of the pastries cooling on the counter on his way out.

Evan hadn’t thought much of it. It was just a small thing, barely worth mentioning. And besides, he thought, it wasn’t like they’d miss one pastry. He was too busy munching on the flaky treat as he took his seat on the planter outside, letting crumbs fall onto the pavement like it was his personal space.

What Evan didn’t know was that Mr. Liang had seen everything. The older man had watched him stroll out without paying, his jaw tightening as the younger man leaned back and took his time eating what didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t the first time someone like Evan had wandered in and disrespected his space—arrogant, entitled, and acting like the rules didn’t apply to them. But it was the last time he was going to let it slide.

Mr. Liang wiped his hands on a cloth and stepped out from behind the counter. His broad shoulders filled the doorway as he strode outside, his expression calm but his movements purposeful.

Evan leaned back against the planter, licking the last crumbs of the stolen pastry from his lips with a self-satisfied grin. He didn’t care about the glare he’d gotten from the café’s owner when he’d walked out, the flaky treat in hand. The guy was older, shorter, and looked like he belonged behind a desk more than behind a counter. What could he do about it? Nothing.

Still, Evan’s stomach rumbled slightly, and he glanced back toward the café, considering whether to grab a drink. It was hot, and his shirt was already sticking to his sweat-slicked chest. He wasn’t about to pay, though. Maybe he could charm the grumpy guy into letting him have a free iced tea. He tucked his phone into his pocket and sauntered back across the street.

The bell above the café door jingled as Evan walked in. Mr. Liang stood behind the counter, his expression unreadable as he watched the younger man approach.

“Hey,” Evan said casually, leaning his muscular forearm on the counter. “Got anything cold back there? It’s scorching out.”

Mr. Liang’s dark eyes flicked down to Evan’s chest, where his loose tank top revealed the sweat glistening on his golden skin. He said nothing for a moment, then nodded toward the fridge at the end of the counter.

“I’ll get you something,” he said, his tone neutral.

Evan smirked, leaning back on his heels. “Thanks, man. Make it quick, yeah?”

Mr. Liang turned and reached into the fridge, his movements deliberate. He pulled out a tall bottle of iced green tea, setting it on the counter with a quiet clink. “Here. On the house.”

Evan raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? Guess you’re not as uptight as I thought.”

The older man didn’t respond, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched Evan twist the cap off and take a long swig. The cool, slightly sweet liquid slid down his throat, and he let out a satisfied sigh, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Not bad,” Evan said, setting the bottle down. “Guess I underestimated you.”

Mr. Liang’s expression didn’t change, but there was a faint glint in his eyes as he replied, “Enjoy.”

Evan didn’t notice the slight bitterness at the end of the tea or the way Mr. Liang’s gaze lingered as he turned to leave. He was halfway back to his perch outside when a strange warmth began to creep over him. It started in his chest, spreading down his arms and legs, a heavy, sluggish sensation that made his steps falter.

“What the…” Evan muttered, blinking as the street seemed to tilt slightly. His vision blurred at the edges, and his head felt like it was wrapped in cotton. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall of the café, his powerful legs shaking beneath him.

From inside, Mr. Liang watched, his lips curling into a faint smirk as he stepped out to meet Evan.

“You alright?” he asked, his tone light but with an undercurrent of amusement.

Evan turned to glare at him, his movements sluggish. “What the hell… what did you—” His words slurred, his legs buckling as the strange heaviness overtook him. Before he could finish, Mr. Liang was there, catching him by the arm.

“Easy now,” the older man said, his grip firm despite his smaller frame. “You’ve had a bit too much sun, I think. Let’s get you inside.”

Evan tried to pull away, but his limbs refused to cooperate, his strength drained as the world tilted dangerously around him. “Let… go…” he mumbled, his head lolling forward as Mr. Liang guided him back into the café.

The door swung shut behind them, the dim interior casting shadows over Evan’s slumping figure. Mr. Liang dragged him toward the back room, his movements steady and practiced as he maneuvered the younger man into a chair. Evan’s head lolled back, his eyes half-lidded as he tried and failed to focus on the older man standing over him.

“What… did you do to me?” Evan mumbled, his words barely coherent.

Mr. Liang smiled faintly, his hands resting on his hips as he leaned in close. “Just a little something to help you relax. You’ve been so tense lately, haven’t you? So full of energy. It’s time someone slowed you down.”

Evan’s chest rose and fell heavily, his golden skin glistening with sweat as he struggled weakly against the invisible weight pressing down on him. His powerful arms twitched at his sides, but the drug coursing through his veins made resistance impossible.

Mr. Liang reached out, his fingers brushing against Evan’s cheek, the younger man’s head tilting slightly under the touch. “You’ve been taking what you want without thinking of the consequences,” the older man murmured, his voice soft but laced with authority. “Now it’s my turn.”

Evan’s lips parted as he tried to speak, but no sound came out. His body slumped further into the chair, his tan skin gleaming in the faint light as Mr. Liang’s hand trailed down to his chest, resting against the curve of his pec.

Evan’s body trembled, his powerful thighs twitching as Mr. Liang’s grip tightened around his bulge. The damp fabric of his boxers clung to him, the friction amplifying every deliberate stroke. His breathing hitched, sharp and uneven, as the older man’s hand moved with calculated precision, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“Feel that?” Mr. Liang murmured, his voice low and almost taunting. “Your body knows what it wants, even if you don’t.”

Evan groaned faintly, his head rolling to the side as his chest heaved, the ridges of his abs flexing with every strained breath. His hands twitched weakly against the armrests, his knuckles whitening as his fingers gripped the edges in a futile attempt to anchor himself. But the heat pooling in his abdomen was impossible to ignore, building with every firm, teasing stroke.

“Ngghh…” Evan gasped, his hips jerking involuntarily as Mr. Liang’s thumb brushed against the sensitive tip beneath the fabric. His lips parted, a low, broken sound escaping as his muscles tightened, every nerve in his body alight with sensation.

But just as he teetered on the edge, his body tensing in anticipation, Mr. Liang’s hand stopped. The sudden lack of friction left Evan gasping, his powerful chest rising and falling as his hips twitched faintly, searching for the release that had been cruelly denied.

“Not so fast,” Mr. Liang said, his tone calm but firm. He leaned closer, his breath hot against Evan’s flushed skin as his hand rested against the jock’s thigh, fingers pressing into the hard muscle. “You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Evan’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as his head tilted back, exposing the strong column of his throat. His chest heaved, his tan skin glistening with sweat as he let out a frustrated groan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

Mr. Liang smirked, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he straightened up, his hand moving to grip the waistband of Evan’s boxers. With a sharp tug, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding over the jock’s muscular thighs and leaving him completely exposed. Evan’s body jerked faintly, his hips twitching as the cool air brushed against his flushed skin.

“You’re going to earn it,” Mr. Liang said, his voice dropping to a near growl as he reached for his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the dim room. “And you’re going to start with this.”

Evan’s blue eyes widened slightly, a flicker of defiance breaking through the haze of lethargy as he watched the older man unfasten his pants. His lips parted as though to protest, but no words came out, his voice caught in his throat as Mr. Liang stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate.

The older man’s pants fell to the floor, pooling around his ankles as he stepped out of them, his sturdy frame towering over the slumped jock. He tugged at the waistband of his briefs, freeing himself as he leaned down, his hand gripping Evan’s jaw with firm pressure.

“Open up,” Mr. Liang commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. His thumb pressed against Evan’s lower lip, forcing his mouth open just enough to slip inside.

Evan groaned faintly, his powerful shoulders tensing as his lips parted reluctantly. The taste of salt and musk filled his senses as Mr. Liang pushed deeper, his thickness stretching Evan’s jaw as he pressed forward with a slow, unrelenting rhythm.

“Good boy,” Mr. Liang murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gripped the back of Evan’s head, guiding him further. “That’s it. Take it all.”

Evan’s throat convulsed as the older man’s girth pressed against the back of his tongue, a muffled gag escaping him as his head jerked slightly. His hands twitched against the armrests, his knuckles whitening as his body trembled, every muscle in his frame straining against the invisible weight that held him down.

Mr. Liang groaned low in his throat, his hips rocking forward as he buried himself deeper, the heat of Evan’s mouth enveloping him completely. The wet, muffled sounds of the jock’s resistance only spurred him on, his grip tightening as he set a slow, deliberate pace.

“Look at you,” Mr. Liang muttered, his voice laced with condescension as he glanced down at Evan’s flushed face. “So strong, so beautiful—and completely under my control.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his breathing sharp and uneven as his throat tightened around the older man’s girth. His blue eyes burned with a mix of anger and helplessness, tears pooling at the corners as he fought to keep up with the relentless rhythm. His chest heaved, the defined muscles flexing as his powerful body betrayed him, responding instinctively to every thrust.

Evan’s mouth stretched wide, his sharp jawline trembling as Mr. Liang pressed forward with slow, deliberate force. The thick length of the older man pushed against the back of his throat, triggering an involuntary gag that made Evan jerk in his chair. His throat convulsed around the intrusion, his powerful chest heaving as he tried to suck in air through his nose, the scent of sweat and musk overwhelming his senses.

“Ghhkk—hhhrkk!” Evan gagged violently, his abs tightening as his body fought against the deep intrusion. His lips, plush and slightly swollen, sealed tightly around Mr. Liang, the spit pooling at the corners and spilling down his chin in slick, glistening strands.

Mr. Liang groaned low in his throat, the sound guttural and filled with satisfaction as he held Evan’s head in place, his thick fingers tangled in the younger man’s damp hair. “That’s it,” he muttered, his voice deep and rough. “Use that mouth, boy. It’s perfect for this.”

The older man’s hips rolled forward in a slow, rhythmic grind, his girth sliding deeper into Evan’s mouth with every thrust. The jock’s throat convulsed again, a wet, choking sound escaping him as tears streamed from his wide blue eyes, mixing with the spit streaking his flushed cheeks. His jaw ached, stretched to its limit as Mr. Liang pushed himself further, his stocky frame trembling with pleasure.

Evan’s hands twitched weakly against the armrests, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edges in a futile attempt to brace himself. His muscular thighs shifted restlessly, his powerful legs flexing as he let out another muffled gag, his body trembling with the effort of keeping up.

“Ghhkk… ngghh… khhh…” The wet, choking sounds filled the room, punctuated by the steady slap of Mr. Liang’s thighs against Evan’s flushed face. Each thrust was firm and unrelenting, the older man’s hips snapping forward with a calculated precision that left no room for resistance.

“You feel that?” Mr. Liang growled, his voice thick with arousal as his hips picked up speed. “That warmth, that tightness. You were made for this.”

Evan’s throat constricted again, the muscles tightening around Mr. Liang as he let out a low, guttural groan. The jock’s powerful chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths, his nostrils flaring as he tried to draw in air around the relentless intrusion. His gag reflex fired repeatedly, each convulsion accompanied by a wet, sputtering sound that only seemed to spur the older man on.

“Good boy,” Mr. Liang muttered, his grip on Evan’s hair tightening as he angled the younger man’s head upward, forcing him to take even more. “Take it all. Show me what that mouth can really do.”

Evan let out a muffled whimper, his blue eyes wide and glassy with tears as his throat burned from the relentless use. His lips quivered, stretched tightly around Mr. Liang’s girth, the spit coating his chin dripping onto his exposed chest. His powerful shoulders trembled, his body twitching with every thrust as the older man pushed him further and further.

Mr. Liang groaned louder, his stocky frame shuddering as he buried himself to the hilt, holding Evan in place as the jock’s throat convulsed around him. “Hhhkk—ghhkk!” Evan gagged violently, his body jerking as his throat was filled completely, the sound raw and desperate as his airways burned for relief.

“That’s it,” Mr. Liang growled, his hips grinding forward as he held himself deep, savoring the warmth and tightness of Evan’s struggling throat. “God, you’re perfect. Just like that.”

Evan’s chest heaved, his powerful muscles flexing as he let out another muffled, sputtering sound, the slick mess dripping from his chin pooling on the floor beneath him. His abs tightened with each convulsion, his body trembling as he fought to keep up with the older man’s relentless pace.

Mr. Liang pulled back slightly, letting Evan gasp for air around his girth, the younger man’s breathing sharp and ragged as he coughed and spluttered, his lips still stretched wide. But the reprieve was brief—within seconds, Mr. Liang was thrusting forward again, his hips snapping in quick, powerful movements that left Evan gagging and jerking in his chair.

“Listen to you,” Mr. Liang muttered, his tone laced with satisfaction as he glanced down at Evan’s flushed, tear-streaked face. “That sound… you’re perfect. I could do this all day.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his breathing sharp and uneven as tears streamed from his wide eyes, his powerful body slumped in submission. His chest heaved with every strained breath, his muscles flexing faintly as his throat continued to betray him, each wet gag and sputter filling the air with raw, unrelenting intensity.

Evan’s chest heaved, his tan skin glistening with sweat as his lips, red and swollen, trembled from the relentless use. His throat burned, each ragged breath a desperate attempt to steady himself, but his powerful body refused to obey. His hands gripped weakly at the armrests of the chair, his muscles taut with strain as he tried to hold on to some shred of control.

Mr. Liang stepped back slightly, his dark eyes glinting with satisfaction as he watched the jock slump further in the chair. Evan’s head lolled to the side, his sharp jawline catching the light as spit and tears streaked his flushed cheeks. His once-pristine confidence was crumbling, every defiant flicker in his gaze extinguished by the older man’s unrelenting dominance.

“You’re still holding on,” Mr. Liang murmured, his voice low and rough as he reached out, gripping Evan’s jaw with firm fingers. He tilted the jock’s face upward, forcing their eyes to meet. “But that’s alright. I’m far from finished with you.”

Evan groaned faintly, his lips parting as though to protest, but the sound was caught in his throat. His powerful shoulders twitched, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep up with the mounting tension in the room. The heat radiating from his body was palpable, his tan skin flushed as every nerve seemed to tingle with anticipation and dread.

Mr. Liang’s hands moved to Evan’s knees, pushing them apart with deliberate force. The jock’s muscular thighs stretched wide, the damp fabric of his boxers riding up as the older man leaned down, his stocky frame pressing closer. The scent of sweat and musk filled the air, the closeness between them electric as Mr. Liang’s hands slid upward, tracing the defined lines of Evan’s legs.

Evan’s jaw tightened, his body tensing as he let out a low, broken groan. His legs twitched faintly under the older man’s touch, his powerful thighs flexing as he tried to shift away. But Mr. Liang’s grip was firm, his fingers digging into the hard muscle as he leaned closer, his breath hot against the younger man’s flushed skin.

“You’re going to give me everything,” Mr. Liang said softly, his voice calm but laced with authority. His hands moved higher, sliding under the waistband of Evan’s boxers and tugging them down, exposing the jock fully. Evan’s hips jerked faintly, the cold air brushing against his heated skin as he let out another low, strangled sound.

Mr. Liang smirked, his hand sliding along the length of Evan’s exposed body, his touch both possessive and calculating. The younger man’s body twitched under his palm, his breathing sharp and uneven as his abs flexed involuntarily. The heat pooling low in his abdomen made him squirm faintly, his legs spreading further as the older man’s hand continued its slow, deliberate exploration.

“You’ve spent your whole life taking what you want,” Mr. Liang murmured, his tone dark as his grip tightened. “Now, you’re going to learn what it feels like to be taken.”

Evan groaned again, his lips trembling as his hips jerked involuntarily, every nerve in his body alight with sensation. His mind screamed for him to fight back, to push the older man away, but the lethargy in his limbs left him completely at Mr. Liang’s mercy.

The older man shifted closer, his hands gripping Evan’s hips as he pressed forward, his movements slow and deliberate. The tension between them was unbearable, the heat radiating from their bodies as Mr. Liang’s dark eyes locked onto Evan’s wide, glassy gaze.

“You’re going to give me everything,” Mr. Liang growled, his tone firm as he positioned Evan further, his body trembling under the weight of the moment. “And you’re going to remember exactly who took it from you.”

Evan’s powerful frame twitched as Mr. Liang’s hands tightened on his hips, the rough fingers pressing into the hard muscle with an unrelenting grip. His legs were spread wide, the tan skin of his thighs flexing as he squirmed faintly in the chair, his once-imposing confidence eroding with each passing moment. His flushed skin gleamed under the dim light, a mix of sweat and tension radiating from every inch of his sculpted body.

Mr. Liang adjusted his stance, his stocky frame hovering over the jock, casting a shadow over the golden expanse of his chest and abs. The older man’s hands moved with purpose, sliding lower to grip Evan’s firm, muscular ass. His touch was rough, possessive, as his fingers kneaded the taut flesh, testing its resistance and savoring the way the younger man’s body reacted involuntarily to his dominance.

Evan let out a low, guttural sound, his head tilting back as his broad chest rose and fell with sharp, shallow breaths. His powerful shoulders flexed, the effort of resisting apparent in every trembling muscle, but his body remained trapped under Mr. Liang’s control. His tan skin burned under the older man’s touch, every nerve alight with the unbearable mix of tension and humiliation.

“You’ve never been in this position before, have you?” Mr. Liang murmured, his voice low and rough as he leaned closer, his breath hot against Evan’s neck. “Always the one in charge. Always the one being admired. But now…”

He shifted, guiding Evan further forward until the jock’s muscular frame arched under his grip, exposing him completely. The chair creaked faintly under the weight of his body as Mr. Liang positioned himself, his hands gripping the jock’s ass with deliberate pressure, spreading him open to savor the view of the firm, untouched flesh before him.

Evan’s jaw clenched, his lips parting as a low, broken sound escaped him. His body tensed, his powerful thighs flexing as he tried to push back, but the strength in his limbs was no match for the calculated dominance of the older man. His breathing quickened, the heat pooling low in his abdomen as his muscles twitched under Mr. Liang’s unrelenting control.

The older man’s hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the tight, puckered entrance with a teasing touch that sent a jolt through Evan’s trembling frame. His grip tightened, holding the jock firmly in place as he applied more pressure, testing the resistance of the untouched muscle. Evan groaned sharply, his chest heaving as his body clenched instinctively, his legs twitching against the invisible weight that kept him grounded.

“Relax,” Mr. Liang said, his voice calm but firm as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against the curve of Evan’s ear. “The more you fight, the harder it’ll be.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his breathing sharp and uneven as he let out another strained sound, his powerful body trembling under the relentless assault of sensation. Mr. Liang’s fingers pressed harder, the slick heat of his touch pushing against the jock’s resistance until the tight muscle gave way, stretching to accommodate the intrusion.

The older man groaned low in his throat, his satisfaction evident as he began to work the jock’s entrance with slow, deliberate movements, each stroke designed to stretch and prepare him further. Evan’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding as he fought to suppress the sounds threatening to escape, but his body betrayed him, his chest flexing as a low, ragged groan spilled from his lips.

“Good,” Mr. Liang murmured, his hands sliding up to grip Evan’s hips as he positioned himself. “You’re starting to understand.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the heat between them thick as Mr. Liang moved closer, his stocky frame pressing against the jock’s trembling body. Evan let out a muffled gasp as he felt the older man’s tip pressing against his stretched entrance, the slick heat of it sending a jolt through his taut frame. His legs flexed, the hard muscle of his thighs trembling as his breathing quickened, his broad chest heaving with every sharp inhale.

Mr. Liang pressed forward, his girth stretching the jock’s entrance further as he sank in with slow, unrelenting force. Evan groaned sharply, his head tilting back as his muscles flexed, every inch of his body alive with the unbearable sensation of being filled. The older man’s grip on his hips tightened, his fingers pressing into the hard muscle as he began to thrust with a slow, grinding rhythm, each movement sending shudders through the jock’s trembling frame.

The wet, slick sounds of their bodies moving together filled the air, punctuated by Evan’s muffled groans and the low, guttural moans of Mr. Liang’s satisfaction. The older man’s thrusts grew deeper, harder, each movement stretching the jock further until his body began to yield, the once-tight muscle softening under the relentless pace.

“You’re perfect,” Mr. Liang muttered, his voice thick with arousal as his hips snapped forward, grinding himself deeper. “This is where you belong.”

Evan’s powerful body trembled, his legs spreading further as the older man drove into him, each thrust sending jolts of sensation through his taut frame. His lips parted, a broken moan escaping as his chest flexed, the ridges of his abs tightening with every strained breath. The once-confident jock was completely at Mr. Liang’s mercy, his body yielding under the relentless assault as the older man took him fully.

Evan’s jaw clenched tightly, his sharp features twisting in effort as he bit down on his bottom lip, desperate to silence the moan clawing its way up his throat. His broad chest heaved, the defined muscles flexing with each strained breath as Mr. Liang’s hips ground into him with slow, deliberate thrusts. The stretch was unbearable, his body betraying him as it adjusted to the relentless pressure, his entrance softening around the older man’s girth with every calculated movement.

“Ahhh… trying so hard,” Mr. Liang muttered, his voice low and mocking as he gripped Evan’s hips firmly, his stocky frame pressing closer. “You think you can stop yourself? Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Evan’s powerful thighs flexed, the hard muscle twitching under the older man’s unyielding grip as he felt himself being filled completely. The tightness of his entrance gave way with each slow grind, the slick friction sending jolts of sensation through his trembling frame. His hands gripped the edge of the chair, his knuckles white as he tried to hold on, but the wet, muffled sounds of their bodies moving together made it impossible to ignore the intensity of the moment.

“Ngghh…” A low, broken sound escaped him before he could stop it, his lips parting in a ragged exhale as his chest flexed. His head tilted back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw as he bit down harder, his nostrils flaring with effort as he fought to keep control.

Mr. Liang smirked, his hands sliding down to grip Evan’s ass, his fingers kneading the firm flesh as he thrust deeper, the grinding rhythm stretching the jock further with each calculated push. “There it is,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “You can’t help it, can you? That body of yours knows exactly what it wants.”

Evan let out a muffled groan, his shoulders trembling as he shifted against the chair, the heat pooling low in his abdomen making his muscles tighten involuntarily. The stretch was unbearable, every inch of Mr. Liang pressing against the sensitive walls of his entrance, sending waves of unwanted pleasure rippling through his taut frame.

Mr. Liang adjusted his angle, his movements becoming more fluid as he began to roll his hips, the grinding motion pressing deeper into the jock’s trembling body. Evan’s legs twitched, his powerful thighs spreading further as the older man’s weight bore down on him, forcing his body to yield completely.

“Fight it all you want,” Mr. Liang growled, his breath hot against Evan’s neck as he leaned closer, his hands gripping the jock’s waist tightly. “But that hole? It’s mine now.”

Evan groaned again, the sound raw and guttural as his body jerked under the relentless pace. His hands clawed at the chair, his fingers digging into the wood as his head tilted back, his lips trembling with effort. Every thrust sent a jolt through his frame, the sensation of being stretched and filled leaving him gasping for breath.

The older man’s movements changed again, his thrusts becoming shorter, sharper, as he leaned back slightly, guiding Evan’s body onto his length with a deliberate rhythm. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, each snap of Mr. Liang’s hips driving deeper, the wet slickness amplifying the intensity.

“You’re going to take it,” Mr. Liang muttered, his hands moving to grip Evan’s thighs, pulling them wider as he adjusted the angle again. “All of it. No resistance. No holding back.”

Evan’s throat tightened, another moan slipping out despite his clenched jaw. His legs quivered, his abs flexing as the older man’s movements shifted once more, his hips rolling in a slow, grinding motion that pushed the jock to his limit. The stretch was unbearable, the heat radiating from his entrance spreading through his entire body as his muscles trembled with effort.

“Perfect,” Mr. Liang muttered, his voice thick with arousal as he began to ride the jock’s hole with increasing intensity, alternating between deep, grinding thrusts and sharp, punishing snaps of his hips. “You’re perfect for this.”

Evan’s chest rose and fell sharply, his breathing labored as his head rolled to the side, his flushed face streaked with sweat and humiliation. His jaw tightened again, his lips parting in a strained gasp as he let out another muffled sound, his powerful frame trembling under the relentless assault.

The older man shifted him again, pulling Evan’s legs higher to expose him fully as he pressed deeper, the grinding rhythm pushing him further and further until his entrance gave way completely, stretched and slick from the unrelenting pace. “That’s it,” Mr. Liang groaned, his hands gripping the jock’s waist as he angled his thrusts, the wet, sloppy sounds filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt. “You’re not so tight now, are you?”

Evan let out a ragged moan, his hips jerking involuntarily as the pressure inside him built, every nerve alight with sensation. His body shuddered under the older man’s control, his legs trembling as he felt himself yield completely, his once-imposing strength reduced to nothing under Mr. Liang’s dominance.

Evan groaned as his muscular frame was maneuvered off the chair, his knees hitting the hard floor with a dull thud. The sudden change in position left his body taut, his powerful thighs flexing instinctively as Mr. Liang loomed over him, gripping the firm curve of his waist with an unrelenting grip.

“You’re not lounging around now, are you?” Mr. Liang growled, his voice dripping with mockery as he pushed Evan forward. The jock’s broad chest pressed against the cool surface of the wooden table, his flushed face turning to the side as his arms trembled, bracing against the pressure. “Big, cocky thief brought to his knees—exactly where you belong.”

Evan snarled faintly, his jaw tightening as he let out a sharp exhale. The position left him completely exposed, his muscular ass raised as Mr. Liang’s hands spread him open with calculated precision. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and tension, every subtle movement amplifying the heat radiating between them.

“You think you can take without consequences?” Mr. Liang muttered, his fingers digging into the taut flesh of Evan’s hips as he positioned himself. “That perfect, tight body of yours isn’t going to save you this time.”

Evan’s breathing quickened, his broad chest rising and falling as the older man pressed against him, the slick heat of his entrance stretching once again under the deliberate push. He groaned sharply, his powerful thighs trembling as the pressure built, his body clenching instinctively before giving way.

“Ahhh—!” Evan gasped, his head tilting back as Mr. Liang buried himself deeper, the sharp stretch forcing his body to adjust with every relentless thrust. His hands clawed at the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening as his hips jerked faintly, every inch of him trembling under the assault.

“That’s it,” Mr. Liang hissed, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gripped Evan’s waist, his thrusts growing sharper, each one driving deeper into the jock’s slick, stretched entrance. “You’re going to take it all, boy. Every last inch.”

Evan snarled again, his jaw clenched as he tried to suppress the moans clawing their way up his throat. But the rhythm was unforgiving, the older man’s stocky frame grinding into him with a punishing pace that left him gasping for air. His abs flexed, the ridges of muscle contracting with every sharp inhale as his powerful body betrayed him once again.

“You’re nothing but a hole,” Mr. Liang growled, his hands sliding up to grip Evan’s broad shoulders, forcing him to arch further, exposing every inch of his trembling frame. “A dirty little thief who needs to be taught a lesson.”

Evan groaned, his voice breaking as his hips jerked involuntarily, the pressure inside him building with every relentless grind. His body stretched further under the unyielding pace, the wet, slick sounds of their movements filling the room as Mr. Liang drove deeper, his movements calculated and unforgiving.

“Say it,” Mr. Liang demanded, his breath hot against Evan’s neck as he leaned closer, his hips snapping forward with bruising intensity. “Admit what you are.”

“I’m—ngghhh—I’m a thief,” Evan gasped, his voice strained as the words spilled out. His powerful chest heaved, his flushed face streaked with sweat as he clenched his jaw, every nerve alight with sensation. “A dirty thief.”

Mr. Liang smirked, his grip tightening as he angled his thrusts, each one driving harder, deeper, stretching the jock further until his body yielded completely. “Good boy,” he muttered, his tone dripping with condescension as he continued his relentless rhythm. “Now beg for more.”

Evan’s broad chest slammed against the table, the wood cool and unyielding against his sweat-slicked skin. His muscular arms trembled, his fingers curling around the edges of the table as his powerful frame arched involuntarily under Mr. Liang’s relentless grip. His tan thighs spread wide, the hard muscles twitching as the older man’s stocky body pressed into him with unrelenting force.

The wet, slick sounds of their bodies moving together filled the room, each sharp thrust stretching Evan further. His entrance, once tight and resistant, now softened around Mr. Liang’s girth, yielding to the relentless pace that left him gasping for air. His lips parted, a guttural groan spilling out as his head tilted back, exposing the sharp line of his jaw.

“Look at you,” Mr. Liang growled, his breath hot against Evan’s ear as he leaned closer, his hips grinding forward with brutal precision. “Big, arrogant thief reduced to nothing but a hole to fill. This is where you belong.”

Evan snarled faintly, his jaw clenching as he tried to suppress the moans clawing their way up his throat. But his body betrayed him, every nerve alight with sensation as the heat pooling low in his abdomen built to a fever pitch. His powerful thighs trembled, the defined muscles flexing as his hips jerked faintly, grinding back against Mr. Liang’s thrusts despite himself.

“Nghhh… fuck!” Evan gasped, his voice breaking as his body shuddered, the tension inside him snapping with explosive force. His powerful chest heaved as he came hard, his release spilling onto the table below in thick, hot streams. His arms shook, his fingers clawing at the wood as his tan skin flushed deeper, every inch of him trembling with the overwhelming sensation.

“Pathetic,” Mr. Liang muttered, his smirk widening as he angled his thrusts, driving deeper into the jock’s stretched entrance. “And we’re just getting started.”

Evan groaned sharply, his flushed face streaked with sweat as his powerful frame trembled under the older man’s control. His broad shoulders flexed, his muscles taut as he gasped for breath, but the relentless rhythm left him no time to recover. Mr. Liang’s hands gripped his waist tightly, the older man’s stocky frame pressing him further into the table as he drove deeper, harder, until he buried himself fully.

With a guttural growl, Mr. Liang spilled inside him, the heat of his release radiating through Evan’s trembling frame. The jock groaned again, his powerful chest flexing as another wave of heat coursed through him, his body jerking involuntarily as he came a second time, the sticky mess coating his abs and pooling beneath him.

But there was no reprieve. Before Evan could catch his breath, Mr. Liang pulled him up, his stocky hands gripping the back of the jock’s neck as he turned him around, forcing him onto his knees. Evan’s tan thighs flexed, the hard muscle trembling as he braced himself, his broad chest rising and falling with each strained breath.

“Open up,” Mr. Liang commanded, his tone dark and commanding as he gripped the base of his girth, slick and glistening from the first round. “You’re not done until I say you’re done.”

Evan’s blue eyes burned with defiance, but his lips parted reluctantly, his sharp jawline trembling as Mr. Liang pushed forward, the thick length stretching his mouth wide. The heat and salt of the older man’s arousal filled his senses, every thrust pressing deeper until his throat clenched instinctively around the intrusion.

“Ghhkk… hhrkk!” Evan gagged violently, his throat convulsing as the older man’s hips rolled forward with calculated precision. His powerful shoulders flexed, his tan skin glistening under the dim light as tears streamed from his wide, glassy eyes. Each wet, choking sound only seemed to spur Mr. Liang on, the older man groaning low in satisfaction as he set a slow, deliberate pace.

“That’s it,” Mr. Liang muttered, his voice thick with arousal as his hand tangled in Evan’s dark hair, holding him firmly in place. “Take it all, you filthy thief. Show me what that mouth can really do.”

Evan groaned faintly, his lips trembling as he struggled to keep up, his throat tightening around every thrust. The wet, sloppy sounds filled the air, each gag and sputter amplifying the tension as his powerful chest heaved, his abs flexing as another wave of heat built low in his abdomen.

With a sharp, broken moan, Evan came again, his body jerking violently as his release coated his thighs, the sticky mess dripping onto the floor beneath him. His tan skin flushed deeper, every inch of him trembling as Mr. Liang’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing sharper, harder, until he spilled into the jock’s throat with a guttural growl.

Evan sputtered, his lips slick and swollen as he swallowed instinctively, the heat of Mr. Liang’s release burning down his throat. His breathing was sharp and ragged, his flushed face streaked with sweat and tears as the older man pulled back, leaving him gasping.

But it wasn’t over. Mr. Liang gripped his chin, tilting his face upward as he stroked himself, his girth still glistening and hard. “You’re not clean yet,” he muttered, his voice dark with satisfaction. “Let me finish the job.”

With a low, guttural groan, he spilled over Evan’s face and chest, the thick streams coating the jock’s tan skin in a sticky glaze. Evan groaned faintly, his powerful body trembling as he tilted his head back, the mess dripping down his abs and pooling at his waist. His breathing was labored, his broad chest rising and falling as he sat back on his heels, every inch of him covered in the evidence of his humiliation.

“Perfect,” Mr. Liang muttered, his tone laced with satisfaction as he stepped back, admiring the sight of the once-arrogant thief completely broken, his tan, muscular body slick with sweat and seed.

Evan groaned softly as the icy stream of water hit his flushed, sweat-drenched skin. His powerful chest jerked involuntarily under the cold spray, the defined ridges of his pecs and abs flexing as his body reacted to the shock. Mr. Liang’s hand gripped the back of his neck, holding him firmly in place under the relentless jet, the high-pressure stream washing away the sticky mess coating his tan skin.

“Hold still,” Mr. Liang growled, his voice cold and commanding as he adjusted the angle, letting the water cascade down Evan’s broad shoulders and along the curve of his back. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you? Filthy thief.”

Evan’s sharp jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he tilted his head forward, the water plastering his dark hair to his forehead. His powerful thighs flexed as he shifted against the tiled wall, his breathing sharp and uneven as he endured the humiliating rinse. His tan skin glistened under the harsh bathroom light, every defined muscle highlighted as the water coursed over him, leaving his flushed face and trembling frame exposed.

When Mr. Liang finally stepped back, Evan let out a shaky exhale, his broad chest heaving as the freezing water ceased. But there was no reprieve. The older man tossed a small bundle onto the counter—a lacy black maid dress, impossibly small and obscenely tailored.

“Put it on,” Mr. Liang commanded, his tone brooking no argument as he crossed his arms, his dark eyes watching the jock’s every move.

Evan’s lips curled in a faint snarl, his blue eyes burning with humiliation as he glanced at the outfit. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as his powerful shoulders tensed, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Mr. Liang snapped, stepping closer as his stocky frame loomed over the jock. “You’ve already shown you’re good for one thing. Now, you’re going to prove it.”

Evan exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening as he grabbed the outfit with trembling hands. The fabric was soft, the lace trim delicate, and as he unfolded it, his stomach twisted at the realization of how little it would cover. The skirt was absurdly short, the neckline plunging to leave his chest fully exposed, while the back was cut scandalously low, designed to hug his waist and showcase every inch of his muscular frame.

Reluctantly, he stepped into the dress, the elastic waistband snapping snugly against his hips as he pulled it up. The lacy straps rested against his broad shoulders, the tight fabric clinging to his pecs and abs, leaving nothing to the imagination. The skirt barely covered the curve of his ass, the slightest movement threatening to reveal more, while the neckline framed the hard ridges of his chest, drawing attention to his flawless physique.

Mr. Liang smirked, circling Evan slowly as he admired the sight before him. “Perfect,” he muttered, his tone thick with satisfaction as his eyes roamed over the jock’s trembling frame. “Exactly what he needs.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his breathing sharp and uneven as his fists clenched at his sides. “Who the hell is ‘he’?” he demanded, his voice low and venomous as he turned to glare at the older man.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Mr. Liang replied smoothly, his smirk widening as he opened the bathroom door and gestured for Evan to follow. “Now, move. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Evan hesitated, his powerful legs flexing as he shifted his weight, but the cold, unyielding gaze in Mr. Liang’s eyes left him no choice. With a sharp exhale, he stepped forward, the lacy skirt swishing faintly against his thighs as he followed the older man down the narrow hallway.

They stopped in front of a closed door, the faint sound of muffled music drifting from within. Mr. Liang placed a firm hand on Evan’s shoulder, turning him to face him as his smirk widened.

“Be good,” he murmured, his tone laced with condescension as he pushed the door open, revealing the room inside.

The space was dimly lit, the walls lined with shelves of books, comics, and figurines. A desk cluttered with computer monitors and game controllers sat against the far wall, the glow from the screens casting faint shadows across the room. In the center of it all sat a young man, his pudgy frame hunched over a keyboard, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he glanced up at the intrusion.

“Dad?” he stammered, his voice tinged with nervousness as he adjusted his glasses, his cheeks flushing at the sight of the towering, muscular figure in the doorway. “What… what’s going on?”

Mr. Liang smirked, stepping aside to reveal Evan fully, the tight maid dress clinging to every inch of his chiseled body. “He’s here to help you, son,” he said smoothly, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Consider him… a gift.”

Evan’s chest tightened, his tan skin flushing deeper as the younger man’s wide eyes roamed over him, taking in the obscene outfit and the flawless physique beneath. His fists clenched at his sides, his powerful frame trembling as the humiliation threatened to overwhelm him.

Mr. Liang patted his son’s shoulder before stepping back, his smirk lingering as he turned toward the door. “Take your time,” he added over his shoulder, his voice calm but firm. “He’s all yours.”

The door closed with a soft click, leaving Evan standing in the center of the room, the lacy skirt brushing against his thighs as he shifted uncomfortably under the younger man’s gaze. His blue eyes burned with a mix of anger and shame as he met the shy, nervous stare of the pudgy man before him.

Evan slumped further in the chair, his body tense yet strangely compliant as the dimly lit room wrapped him in oppressive silence. His tan, sweat-slick skin glistened under the single bulb above, the remnants of the freezing rinse dripping down his abs and thighs. His fists tightened, but his muscles felt drained, the overwhelming sensations leaving him too rattled to focus.

Mr. Liang’s son stood awkwardly in the corner, his wide eyes darting nervously between Evan’s muscular frame and the floor. His hands fumbled with the edges of his T-shirt, the fabric stretched taut over his soft belly as he shifted his weight, clearly unsure how to proceed. But there was something in the younger man’s gaze—hesitation mixed with an undeniable curiosity—that made Evan’s jaw tighten further.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Evan growled, his deep voice carrying a sharp edge as his blue eyes locked onto the younger man. The lace of the absurd maid outfit clung to his chiseled frame, the neckline emphasizing every ridge of his pecs, while the short hem brushed against his powerful thighs. He shifted uncomfortably, his fists clenching as he tried to ignore the ridiculousness of his situation.

But Mr. Liang’s son didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped closer, his sneakers scuffing softly against the floor as his gaze roamed over Evan’s exposed chest, lingering on the sharp cut of his abs and the tense line of his jaw. There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes now—something emboldened by the absurd power dynamic his father had handed him.

“You’re… big,” he muttered awkwardly, his voice tinged with both awe and uncertainty. He adjusted his glasses, his cheeks flushing as he stood a few feet away from the towering jock. “Dad wasn’t kidding.”

Evan scoffed, leaning forward slightly as his broad shoulders flexed, the muscles rippling under his tan skin. “What, you gonna sit there gawking all night? What the hell do you even want?”

The younger man flinched at the sharp tone, but instead of retreating, he straightened up, his chin lifting slightly. “You’re not in a position to talk to me like that,” he said, his voice firmer now, though still carrying a hint of nervousness. “Dad told me you’re here to… help.”

Evan sneered, his blue eyes narrowing as he leaned back in the chair, his powerful thighs spreading slightly as he tried to project a confidence he didn’t quite feel. “Help? You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t owe you—”

“Enough,” the younger man snapped, cutting him off as he stepped closer, his expression tightening. His soft features were flushed, but there was a new edge to his voice—a faint echo of his father’s commanding tone. “You think you’re still in control here?”

Evan’s jaw tightened, his sharp features hardening as he glared up at him. “I don’t give a damn what your dad said. I’m not—”

Before he could finish, the younger man reached out, his fingers gripping the delicate lace strap of the maid dress. He tugged sharply, the fabric straining against Evan’s broad shoulders as the neckline dipped lower, exposing more of his chest. The audacity of the gesture left Evan momentarily stunned, his blue eyes widening as he stared at the pudgy man before him.

“You’re going to do what I say,” the younger man said quietly, his voice trembling slightly but carrying an unexpected determination. “Because if you don’t, my dad will come back. And trust me… he’ll make sure you regret it.”

Evan’s nostrils flared, his breathing sharp as his muscles tensed, but the weight of the threat hung heavy in the air. The memory of Mr. Liang’s firm grip and unrelenting dominance was still fresh in his mind, and the thought of enduring another round of that humiliation made his stomach twist.

“What do you want?” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and venomous as his powerful frame shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

The younger man’s lips curved into a faint, nervous smile, his confidence growing as he stepped even closer, his gaze raking over the jock’s exposed skin. “For starters,” he said, his voice softening as his fingers brushed against the edge of the lace neckline, “you’re going to call me ‘Sir.’”

Evan’s jaw clenched tighter, his blue eyes blazing with defiance as he glared up at him. “Not a chance.”

The younger man smirked faintly, his hand trailing down to the hem of the lacy skirt, his fingers brushing against the muscular curve of Evan’s thigh. The intimate touch sent a jolt through the jock’s frame, his powerful legs twitching instinctively as he tried to pull away, but the chair held him in place.

“Let me make this clear,” the younger man said, his voice firmer now as he leaned closer, his face mere inches from Evan’s. “You’re here to follow orders. My dad made sure of that. So unless you want him to come back in here…”

Evan’s chest heaved, his powerful shoulders flexing as he fought against the invisible weight of the situation. His pride burned, every fiber of his being screaming at him to resist, but the memory of Mr. Liang’s unrelenting control left him hesitating, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard.

“Say it,” the younger man pressed, his fingers gripping the lace hem tighter as his dark eyes locked onto Evan’s. “Say ‘Yes, Sir.’”

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy as the jock’s tan skin flushed deeper, his powerful frame trembling with suppressed rage and humiliation. Finally, through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, he muttered, “Yes, Sir.”

The words tasted bitter on his tongue, his pride fracturing with each syllable, but the younger man’s satisfied smirk only deepened, his confidence growing as he straightened up.

“Good,” he said simply, stepping back as his eyes roamed over the towering jock in the ridiculous maid dress. “Now let’s see just how obedient you can be.”

The tension in the air only thickened as the night wore on, the lines between humiliation, dominance, and reluctant surrender blurring with each passing moment.

Evan’s lips tightened into a hard line as he stood in the middle of the room, his fists clenched at his sides. The absurd maid dress clung to his muscular frame, the lace brushing against his sweat-slicked skin as the hem swayed with every subtle shift of his weight. He loomed over the younger man, his sharp jaw set and his blue eyes burning with defiance, but the weight of the situation left him immobilized, his pride warring with the threat of further humiliation.

The pudgy man’s gaze roamed over Evan with unabashed curiosity, the corners of his lips twitching into an awkward but smug smile. He adjusted his glasses, his cheeks flushing as he took another step forward, his hand twitching nervously at his side. For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint hum of the computer monitors casting a faint glow over the cluttered space.

“You’re going to do something for me,” the younger man said, his voice soft but firm as he met Evan’s glare. “Something… personal.”

Evan’s chest rose and fell sharply, the defined ridges of his abs flexing with every strained breath as his tan skin glistened under the dim light. “Personal?” he growled, his voice low and venomous as his powerful shoulders tensed. “You’re out of your mind.”

The younger man smirked faintly, his gaze lingering on the jock’s broad chest and muscular thighs. “Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his tone laced with nervous confidence. “But you don’t really have a choice, do you?”

Evan’s jaw clenched tighter, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled sharply. His pride burned at the thought of giving in, but the memory of Mr. Liang’s unrelenting control still lingered in his mind, a painful reminder of how quickly the tables could turn. He shifted his weight, his powerful legs flexing as he tried to steady himself, but the lace skirt brushing against his thighs only added to his discomfort.

“What do you want?” he demanded, his voice a sharp growl as he squared his broad shoulders, trying to reclaim some semblance of control.

The younger man’s smirk widened slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of nervous excitement and newfound authority. “A lap dance,” he said simply, his voice trembling slightly but carrying a weight that left no room for argument. “Right here. And I want you to do it like you mean it.”

Evan’s blue eyes widened slightly, his sharp features hardening as his chest heaved with sharp, shallow breaths. “You’re joking.”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” the younger man shot back, his tone suddenly firmer as he stepped closer, his pudgy frame just inches from Evan’s towering figure. “You’re going to give me what I want. And you’re going to make it good.”

Evan’s powerful frame tensed, his fists tightening as he fought against the surge of humiliation and rage threatening to boil over. His sharp jaw clenched, his teeth grinding as he stared down at the younger man, his blue eyes burning with defiance. But the memory of Mr. Liang’s warning echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of how little power he had in this moment.

“Fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and venomous as he took a reluctant step forward. His muscles flexed, every inch of his tan skin taut with tension as he loomed over the younger man, the lace of the maid dress swishing faintly with his movements. “But don’t get used to it.”

The younger man’s smirk deepened, his confidence growing as he stepped back and dropped onto the edge of the bed, his pudgy frame sinking into the rumpled covers. He spread his legs slightly, his cheeks flushing as he patted his lap, the gesture both awkward and commanding.

“Go on, then,” he said, his tone laced with a mix of nervousness and smug satisfaction. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Evan’s nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply, his powerful chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. His pride screamed at him to resist, but the weight of the situation left him with no choice. Slowly, he stepped forward, his broad shoulders flexing as he closed the distance between them, the lace skirt brushing against his muscular thighs with every reluctant movement.

The younger man’s gaze was fixed on him, his dark eyes wide with a mix of awe and anticipation as Evan loomed over him, his towering frame casting a shadow across the bed. His breath hitched slightly as the jock placed his hands on his hips, the tight fabric of the maid dress clinging to his chiseled body as he swayed faintly, the motion both reluctant and deliberate.

Evan’s jaw tightened as he leaned forward, his broad chest brushing against the younger man’s soft frame as he planted his hands on the bed, his powerful thighs flexing as he straddled him. The lace skirt rode up, exposing more of his muscular legs as he shifted his weight, the hard muscles of his thighs pressing against the younger man’s pudgy sides.

The younger man let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as they hovered near Evan’s hips, unsure of where to land. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice soft and trembling as he met the jock’s burning gaze. “Keep going.”

Evan’s blue eyes narrowed, his sharp jaw clenching as he began to move, his hips swaying reluctantly as he shifted his weight, the lace skirt brushing against the younger man’s lap. The movement was slow and deliberate, every motion highlighting the tension in his powerful frame as his muscles flexed, the heat radiating from his tan skin palpable.

The younger man’s breath quickened, his cheeks flushing as he reached out hesitantly, his pudgy fingers brushing against Evan’s hips. The jock tensed under the touch, his powerful shoulders flexing as he bit back a sharp retort, the humiliation of the moment threatening to overwhelm him.

“You’re… incredible,” the younger man murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as his hands slid lower, tracing the defined lines of Evan’s thighs. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers digging into the hard muscle as he leaned closer, his breath hot against the jock’s chest. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this.”

Evan snarled faintly, his jaw tightening as he shifted his weight, his broad chest brushing against the younger man’s glasses as he leaned down, his voice a low growl. “You’re going to regret this.”

The younger man smirked faintly, his confidence bolstered by the jock’s reluctant compliance. “We’ll see about that,” he replied, his tone trembling slightly as his hands slid higher, gripping Evan’s hips firmly as he pulled him closer.

Before Evan could react, the younger man surged forward, his lips pressing against the jock’s in a forceful, awkward kiss. Evan’s blue eyes widened in shock, his powerful frame tensing as he let out a muffled growl, his sharp jaw tightening under the assault. The younger man’s kiss was clumsy and overeager, his soft lips pressing against the jock’s with a mix of nervousness and unrestrained desire.

Evan’s powerful hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening as he tried to pull back, but the younger man’s grip on his hips tightened, his pudgy fingers digging into the lace skirt as he held him in place. The heat of the kiss was overwhelming, the younger man’s breath hot and heavy against his skin as their lips clashed in a desperate, uncoordinated rhythm.

The younger man’s hands roamed lower, gripping Evan’s firm, muscular ass through the lace skirt as he deepened the kiss, his movements growing bolder with each passing second. Evan let out a muffled snarl, his sharp features twisting in humiliation as he felt the pressure of the younger man’s bulge pressing against him, the heat radiating through the thin fabric of the maid dress.

“You’re mine,” the younger man murmured breathlessly, his voice trembling with a mix of nervous excitement and newfound authority as he pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto Evan’s burning gaze. “And you’re going to do everything I say.”

Evan’s chest heaved, his powerful shoulders flexing as he glared down at the younger man, his blue eyes blazing with suppressed rage. But the weight of the situation was suffocating, leaving him trapped in a web of humiliation and reluctant compliance.

The younger man smirked faintly, his hands sliding back up to grip Evan’s waist as he shifted beneath him, his pudgy frame pressing closer as he leaned in, his voice a soft, trembling whisper. “Now, let’s see how far we can take this…”

Evan’s sharp jaw tightened as he shifted uncomfortably on the younger man’s lap, his powerful thighs flexing against the pudgy frame beneath him. The maid dress clung to his muscular form, the lace brushing against his flushed, sweat-slick skin as the younger man’s hands roamed clumsily over his hips and thighs. Every touch felt awkward yet demanding, the weight of the moment amplified by the younger man’s trembling excitement and lack of control.

“You’re so… perfect,” the younger man murmured, his voice trembling with awe as his fingers gripped the lace hem of the dress, tugging it higher to expose more of Evan’s chiseled thighs. His dark eyes roamed hungrily over the jock’s tan skin, lingering on the sharp lines of his abs and the tension in his broad chest.

Evan let out a sharp exhale, his powerful shoulders flexing as he tried to maintain some semblance of control. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he growled, his voice low and venomous as his blue eyes burned with defiance. “This isn’t—”

“Shut up,” the younger man interrupted, his voice trembling but firm as he reached up, his pudgy fingers gripping the jock’s damp hair. He tugged sharply, forcing Evan’s head back and cutting off his protest with a clumsy, forceful kiss. The motion was rough and uncoordinated, the younger man’s lips pressing hard against Evan’s as his breath came in quick, uneven gasps.

Evan snarled faintly against the kiss, his sharp features twisting in frustration as he felt the younger man’s grip tighten in his hair. The pull was awkward and painful, the inexperienced force sending a jolt through his powerful frame as he let out a muffled growl, his broad chest heaving with suppressed rage.

The younger man pulled back, his lips red and swollen from the rough contact as he grinned nervously, his glasses slipping down his nose. “This is… this is just like the videos,” he muttered, his voice tinged with excitement as his hands slid lower, gripping the curve of Evan’s ass through the lace skirt. “They always start like this, don’t they? You’re supposed to fight a little… but you’ll give in.”

Evan’s blue eyes widened slightly, his sharp jaw clenching as the words sank in. “Videos?” he spat, his voice laced with disbelief and anger. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

But the younger man wasn’t listening. His hands moved to Evan’s shoulders, shoving him back with surprising force until the jock was on his knees in front of the bed. The lace dress swayed with the motion, the hem brushing against Evan’s powerful thighs as he caught himself with one hand, his sharp features twisted in a mix of rage and humiliation.

“You’re going to do it,” the younger man said breathlessly, his dark eyes wide with nervous excitement as he fumbled with the waistband of his sweatpants. “You’re going to show me how it’s done. Just like they do in the videos.”

Evan’s chest heaved, his broad shoulders flexing as he glared up at the younger man, his blue eyes blazing with defiance. “You don’t have a clue what you’re doing,” he growled, his voice low and venomous as he shifted on his knees, his powerful thighs flexing beneath him.

The younger man smirked faintly, his nervous energy giving way to a misguided confidence as he leaned forward, his pudgy fingers gripping the back of Evan’s head. “Maybe not,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly as he tugged on the jock’s damp hair, forcing his head back. “But you’re going to teach me.”

Evan snarled, his jaw tightening as he felt the younger man’s grip in his hair, the sharp pull sending a jolt through his powerful frame. “I’m not—”

“Open up,” the younger man commanded, his voice trembling but firm as he guided Evan’s head closer. “Do it. Now.”

The tension in the room was suffocating, the air thick with a mix of nervous anticipation and raw humiliation. Evan’s nostrils flared as he exhaled sharply, his sharp features hardening as he met the younger man’s gaze. His pride burned, every fiber of his being screaming at him to resist, but the weight of the situation left him trapped, his body trembling with suppressed rage.

Slowly, reluctantly, Evan parted his lips, his sharp jaw clenching as his blue eyes burned with defiance. The younger man let out a shaky breath, his cheeks flushing as he guided the jock’s head closer, his pudgy fingers gripping his hair tightly.

“This is… this is just like in the videos,” he muttered again, his voice trembling with excitement as he pressed forward, his hips jerking awkwardly. The heat of his arousal was palpable, the scent of sweat and musk filling the air as he pushed himself against Evan’s lips, the motion clumsy and uncoordinated.

Evan gagged faintly as the younger man pressed into his mouth, the stretch burning his jaw as he struggled to adjust. His broad shoulders flexed, the defined muscles trembling with the effort of holding back as the younger man’s grip in his hair tightened, forcing him to take more.

“Ghhkk—ngghh…” The wet, muffled sounds of Evan’s resistance filled the room, each gag and sputter amplifying the tension as the younger man groaned low in his throat, his movements rough and eager.

“Yeah,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal as he guided Evan’s head with clumsy, jerking motions. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Evan’s powerful chest heaved, his abs flexing with every strained breath as his body struggled to keep up with the younger man’s rough, inexperienced rhythm. His sharp jaw ached, the stretch unbearable as his throat tightened around the intrusion, each convulsion sending a jolt through his trembling frame.

The younger man groaned again, his pudgy hands gripping Evan’s head tightly as he leaned back slightly, his dark eyes wide with awe and excitement. “You’re so good at this,” he muttered, his voice trembling as he pushed forward again, his hips snapping in short, sharp motions. “Just like in the videos… even better.”

Evan snarled faintly around the intrusion, his blue eyes burning with defiance as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His powerful frame trembled, every muscle taut with tension as he endured the younger man’s rough, uncoordinated thrusts, the wet, choking sounds of his resistance filling the room.

“Ghhkk—hhhrkk…” Evan gagged violently, his throat convulsing around the younger man as tears pooled at the corners of his wide blue eyes. His powerful chest flexed, the ridges of his abs tightening as he fought to keep up, every nerve alight with the unbearable tension of the moment.

The younger man groaned louder, his movements growing rougher as he guided Evan’s head with both hands, his grip unrelenting as he pushed deeper, harder, his breath coming in quick, uneven gasps. “God, this is… this is amazing,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal as he lost himself in the moment. “I can’t believe this is real.”

Evan’s chest heaved, his powerful shoulders flexing as his throat burned, the relentless rhythm leaving him gasping for air. His sharp features twisted in frustration and humiliation, his blue eyes wide and glassy as the younger man’s movements grew more erratic, each thrust sending a jolt through his trembling frame.

“You’re… incredible,” the younger man muttered breathlessly, his voice trembling with awe as he leaned back slightly, his grip on Evan’s hair tightening. “I don’t want this to end.”

Evan gagged violently, his throat convulsing around the thick intrusion as his jaw ached from the strain. His sharp features twisted in humiliation, his blue eyes wide and glassy as the younger man’s pudgy fingers dug into his damp hair, guiding him with rough, clumsy motions. The lace of the maid dress brushed against his powerful thighs, the absurd fabric only heightening the shame that burned through him.

The younger man’s breath came in quick, uneven gasps, his glasses slipping down his nose as he leaned forward, his grip tightening in Evan’s hair. His other hand slid down, trembling slightly as it wrapped around the jock’s thick, muscular neck. His pudgy fingers pressed against the hard cords of muscle, his inexperienced touch at first hesitant, then firm as he squeezed, testing the limits of his control.

Evan’s chest heaved, his powerful shoulders flexing as his tan skin flushed a deeper red. The pressure on his throat was unbearable, the oxygen in his lungs burning away with each strained gasp. He tried to pull back, his powerful legs flexing against the floor as he shifted his weight, but the younger man’s grip held him firmly in place, his clumsy dominance overwhelming.

The wet, choking sounds filled the room, each gag and sputter amplifying the tension. “Ghhkk—hhrkk…” Evan’s throat convulsed around the intrusion, the tight muscles squeezing involuntarily as his broad chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. Beads of sweat dripped down his sharp jawline, mingling with the tears pooling at the corners of his wide blue eyes.

“God… this is just… perfect,” the younger man muttered, his voice trembling with excitement as he pressed harder on Evan’s neck. His movements were rough and erratic, his hips snapping forward in short, jerking thrusts as he lost himself in the moment. “You’re so good at this. Better than the videos.”

Evan’s powerful frame trembled, his broad shoulders flexing as he fought against the suffocating pressure. His nostrils flared as he struggled to draw in air, the burning in his lungs sending sharp jolts through his chiseled frame. The heat pooling low in his abdomen only added to his torment, his tan skin slick with sweat as the lace skirt brushed against the hardness straining beneath it.

The younger man’s pudgy fingers tightened further around Evan’s neck, his inexperience evident in the awkward pressure he applied. But the sensation was overwhelming, the lack of oxygen leaving Evan lightheaded, his powerful body trembling as his vision blurred at the edges. His throat convulsed again, a violent gag that sent a ripple of tension through his abs and chest.

“Yeah… yeah, just like that,” the younger man groaned, his voice thick with arousal as he adjusted his stance, his dark eyes fixed on the jock’s flushed, tear-streaked face. “God, you’re amazing. I can feel it—your throat’s so tight.”

Evan’s body jerked faintly under the assault, his sharp jaw clenching as his mind screamed for relief. His powerful thighs twitched against the floor, the hard muscle flexing as his body fought to resist the relentless rhythm. But the betrayal of his own body was complete—the heat pooling in his abdomen grew unbearable, the lace skirt swaying faintly with every desperate shift of his weight.

The younger man noticed immediately, his dark eyes widening as his gaze dropped to the straining fabric. “Oh my god,” he muttered, his voice trembling with awe as his hips snapped forward, the clumsy rhythm growing more erratic. “You’re hard. You’re actually… you’re loving this.”

Evan let out a muffled gag, his throat tightening around the younger man as the words sent a fresh wave of humiliation through his trembling frame. His powerful chest heaved, the defined ridges of his abs flexing with every strained breath as the oxygen deprivation left him weak, his broad shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of the moment.

The younger man groaned louder, his grip tightening as he leaned forward, his breath hot and uneven against Evan’s flushed skin. “You’re incredible,” he muttered, his voice thick with arousal as he drove himself deeper, the wet, sloppy sounds filling the room. “You’re… mine.”

Evan’s blue eyes burned with defiance, but the lack of air left him unable to fight back. His powerful body trembled, every muscle taut as the tension built to a breaking point. The younger man’s movements grew rougher, his pudgy hands guiding Evan’s head with unrelenting force as his hips snapped forward in a final, jerking thrust.

With a guttural groan, the younger man spilled into Evan’s throat, the heat of his release overwhelming. The jock gagged violently, his throat convulsing around the intrusion as his powerful frame jerked, the wet, choking sounds echoing in the small room. His broad chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, his sharp jaw clenching as the taste filled his mouth.

The betrayal of his own body was undeniable. As the younger man groaned in satisfaction, his movements slowing, Evan’s arousal finally spilled over, the sticky heat soaking through the lace of the maid dress. His powerful thighs flexed against the floor, the tension in his abs releasing in a wave of uncontrollable sensation.

The younger man leaned back, his glasses fogged and his cheeks flushed as he looked down at the jock. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice trembling with awe as he released his grip on Evan’s neck and hair. “I’ve never… I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Evan slumped forward slightly, his powerful shoulders flexing as he braced himself against the floor. His tan skin was slick with sweat, his broad chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he gasped for air, the strain evident in every trembling muscle. His sharp features were twisted in humiliation, his blue eyes burning with a mix of rage and shame as he avoided the younger man’s gaze.

The air in the room was thick with the scent of sweat and musk, the tension lingering as both men remained silent. The younger man reached out hesitantly, his pudgy fingers brushing against Evan’s flushed cheek.

“Thank you,” he muttered softly, his voice a mix of nervousness and awe. “You’re… everything I imagined.”