I giggle, “What are you doing?”
“I am conducting both a visual and a physical examination of the man I love. First, I am getting to know the unique characteristics of this exquisite body.”
I blush harder still.
“And second, I am checking for any damage those assholes may have caused.”
I sit up and hug him, “I’m okay.”
“They assaulted you.”
“Yes. But you saved me before they could…” I trail off, unable to even say the words.
He shakes his head and fights back tears, “They violated you. You are beautiful and perfect and no one gets to touch you without your permission.”
I hold his eye and nod. “Owen, you sweet, gentle, kind, huge, giant man. You always have my permission.”
He starts by kissing my flat, smooth, hairless abdomen. He circles my round innie belly button with his finger and I jolt from the sensation. Then he goes back to kissing and just for fun, he blows a raspberry. We both laugh and the seriousness recedes into the shadows. It will be a while before I am mentally whole again, but with Owen with me, I’ll get there sooner than later. The loving way he held me all night last night already has me on the road to recovery.
Last night’s attempt was thwarted when my five friends busted in the house and rushed to my rescue. Right now, no rescue is needed. All I feel from Owen is mutual respect and love. I’ve had an erection since he began my gentle foot rub almost two hours ago. My aching cock has been dying to fully stretch out and breathe some fresh air.
Owen does nothing. I’m just pointing skyward like a flagpole. I wonder if something is wrong. I look at him and his eyes are wider than I’ve ever seen.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Dude! Your dick is fucking huge!”
I blush and swell with pride. I have no live and in person experience to compare to, but I always suspected that was the one place that my diminutive body was not so diminutive. Now I have confirmation.
He goes on, “Seriously! It’s bigger than mine. And I’m a big guy!”
“And so modest too.”
He laughs and swats my arm.
Suddenly, it’s enough with the talking. And it’s rude to talk with a mouthful. And that’s what I am. A mouthful.
Owen rotates between hands and mouth but I’m most in ecstasy when he uses both at the same time. I always hoped that someday I would get to experience physical pleasure with someone who was special to me. I never imagined that Owen – the most special person – would be that guy or that the physical pleasure could be so…pleasurable. He is bringing me to places I never knew existed.
Eventually he finds a rhythm that I know will conquer me soon if he keeps at it. His hand strokes my lower shaft while his mouth goes at the upper half. He is twisting and sucking while his tongue dances on my underside below the mushroom cap. When the fingers of his other hand fondle my balls, things escalate with urgency. He is relentless and it’s only five more minutes before I can’t hold back any longer. Just because I was willing to swallow doesn’t mean I should presume that he is too. I give him a courtesy, “Oh my God, I’m about to cum!”
He giggles once and gives me a thumbs up, but he doesn’t stop. I wrap my legs around his back and squeeze him like a boa constrictor as I pulse shot after shot down his throat. As my convulsions subside, he holds me in his mouth. Applying gentle suction and prolonging the orgasm as long as possible. I feel like I’ve melted into the couch.
This is actually real. The dream I had no right dreaming in fact came true. The guy I’ve crushed on since the day I met him was crushing on me right back. So, we spend the next hour entangled together just hugging, touching, kissing and giggling. We are two boys who know each other intellectually and are now getting to know each other physically. I could explore his body forever. As these hours wind down, I think my old crush is becoming my new love. We’ve only been a couple for a few hours but I guess we’ve been falling in love for more than two years.
When we finally rip away from each other and get dressed, we realize how close we came to an embarrassing moment as five minutes later, our five housemates all bust through the door, laughing and celebrating a win. Owen and I look at each other sheepishly then giggle, realizing what they almost walked in on.
Wyatt can tell just by looking at us. It’s not surprising. We’re both wearing dopey lovesick expressions. Or maybe it’s our flushed cheeks, our messy hair and our rumpled clothes. He grins and gives Owen a knowing thumbs up.
But then the other guys see it too. Cooper grins and points, “You guys finally got your heads out of your asses.” He play punches Owen in the arm and musses my hair.
Aiden says, “Awe… You guys! You finally figured your shit out!”
Ivan says, “I couldn’t be happier for you both.” Then he frowns. “You know, there are two perfectly fine beds up in your room. There’s no way I’m sitting on the couch again before it gets professionally steam cleaned.”
We all laugh and Owen and I turn a darker shade of red.
Wyatt winks at Owen, “The only one you managed to fool was yourself.”
Two Weeks Later
Enzo:
This time our plan is more thought out. It’s 2:00AM and the whole town is asleep. Except for the six of us. We are standing at the front door of the Baseball House and we each have a bag of evil tricks. Owen and Wyatt busted through this door two weeks ago, but it has since been repaired. It only takes Cooper a minute to jimmy the lock and we’re in. I don’t even want to know where he learned that skill. Just like ours, this house has three bedrooms and six residents. Two per bedroom. It’s tricky because it’s six on six. How do we get and keep the advantage? Getting our quarry all gagged, tied and subdued without the others hearing… The element of surprise only works once. The first time. So our plan is simple – we need to have three first times.
We enter the first bedroom we come to and split up so three of us take each bed. Three of us, one of them. The first thing we do is silence the asshole with a gag so the rest of the house doesn’t wake up. That’s how we maintain the element of surprise three times. One of us shoves a dirty sweat sock into our victim’s mouth while another quickly applies duct tape to prevent screaming or sound of any kind. While this is happening, the third of us is already tying one of the victim’s hands to a bedpost. Nylon zip ties make this a quick and easy job. At this point we are half way there. The three of us have one job done and one job to go. With one hand, two feet and three bedposts remaining, it’s easy math. The whole silent operation takes less than ninety seconds. We check on our friends at the other bed and they had as little trouble as we did. Our first two victims are both wide awake now, but helplessly immobilized and gagged.
We had determined, through some extremely unpleasant field testing, that Cooper had the worst smelling dirty sweat socks of all of us. Unsurprisingly, Cooper was proud rather than embarrassed to win that unglamorous competition. So, it’s three days of his socks that we’re using tonight as gags. Another layer of well-deserved torture.