A gay story: Seamus Ch. 04 Author’s notes: Thanks to all that have sent me anonymous and public feedback about this series. I like to know whether what I’m writing rings true and what people really think.
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I spent the night being woken every hour by torchlight in my eyes, as Neill checked to see if my pupils dilated evenly, to ensure I didn’t have a brain injury. At 4 a.m., we decided I was okay and gave up on it. The next time I awoke, I could see triangles of muted light coming through the curtains of our high windows (our room was below ground level). I figured it must be around 6 a.m. I lay there for a minute, wondering why my limbs and head felt so heavy, my torso so tight. I wasn’t really in pain until I tried to roll over. I gasped as my muscles spasmed, volts of pain shooting all over my body.
“You alright, man?” Neill hissed, sounding concerned. He was in his own bed. “You awake?”
“Yeah,” I groaned.
“You okay? Did they do x-rays and shit at ED? Want me to check your eyes again?”
“Nah, I’m fine. They looked me over pretty good.” I tried to get myself comfortable again. The pain didn’t want to go away. I’d been warned not to take anything for eight hours in case it messed my head, though I guessed about twelve had passed since the fight. “How long have you been awake?”
I heard Neill roll over, probably to face me, but I couldn’t see him from my back. “Ages. Couldn’t get back to sleep after last time I torched you.” he said. “Thinking, I guess.”
“About?”
“What we should do to get the fucker back,” Neill spat.
The fury in his retort surprised me. He seemed angrier about all this than I was. I guess I was still in shock. “I don’t think we should do anything,” I said. “Coach is putting me before the Disciplinary Board. It’ll look worse for me if I go in for round two.”
“Not if Liam doesn’t say anything.”
“Oh, come on man, he’ll whine. It already looks like my fault anyway; by the time everyone arrived, I was sitting on him and punching his lights out. It looks like I was picking on him ‘cos he was short or something, ‘cos I’m heaps bigger-”
“And that other shit he pulled?”
“Then they’ll say I’m a homophobe as well! Couldn’t take him making a pass so I bashed the shit out of him. Or he’ll deny it. There’s no point trying to say anything.” I took a few deep breaths and sat up, wincing as my muscles contracted, but trying to hide the pain from Neill.
I heard Neill take a sharp intake of breath. “You’re right. They won’t believe you, next to him, so fucking perfect.” He sat up too, and stared at me through the morning gloom. “Shit, you look like shit, mate.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. Seeing Neill diverted my mind so that I forgot some of the pain. He looked so- I won’t say cute, that’s too girly, and hot doesn’t fit either. He just took my breath away. How you can feel like that about your best mate, I don’t know, I just did. I’m not even sure when it started, but often when I looked at him my heart would miss a beat. I was still finding it weird, as if my mind had skipped a wire, to be so fascinated by someone so masculine.
That morning, he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I liked watching the glinting hairs on his chest in the half-light, and the way his muscles rippled beneath his tanned skin as he moved. His arced cheekbones were broad beneath slightly angled intense blue eyes, like a cat, but not your average delicate moggy. His chiselled face was almost lion-like. His hair was all shaggy and disarrayed. He just looked so golden… and sexy. Damn it, I wished I could touch his hair and kiss the soft part of his neck so much, but I wasn’t sure if he still wanted me after all the trouble with Liam. There was just too much shit flying. We were both angry and scared.
Neill’s words broke the spell his sight had put on me. “Liam has a lot coming to him,” he whispered.
“You got that right,” I snapped as pain returned in sharp stabs. Damn it. I was angry; it was just a different anger to Neill’s. “I said he couldn’t hurt me and he fucking found a way that he could. I don’t know what I’m going to do. If I’m not in that team, I’ve got nothing.”
“Oh come on, man. Rugby isn’t everything. You’ve got me and Jill and-”
I couldn’t believe how bitter I suddenly was. “And what? Nothing. All my fucking life, all I’ve done is push and shove and strain myself to get to this level, and if not playing, there’s no way any selectors are going to pick me for bigger teams. I know it sounds stupid, but this is it, this is everything. I’m a mediocre student at best. I hate commerce! I don’t even know how I’m going to stomach working in a fucking office, ‘cos that’s all that’s fucking left-”
“Calm down,” Neill whispered. He peeled back his covers and trod across the room (Another jolt to my heart and cock). He sat at the foot of my bed and stared at me.
“You’ve still got that disciplinary thing, they might just let it all drop… And if they don’t? Geez, you’ve still got cricket, gym stuff, and you should change course to something you actually like, and if you don’t want that you can always go in for modelling,” snigger, “or something. And anyway, I know it sucks for you that you aren’t on the team, but don’t you think that you’ve got more in you than just being a-” he searched for the right word, “jock? I mean, you aren’t dumb-”
“I can’t deal with this shit,” I grumbled. “I just can’t fucking do it.”
Neill frowned. “Grow some balls, you have to deal with it. Wasn’t it you that told me that he was an arsehole but he couldn’t do anything? Well, he can’t. We’ll make him pay, so he won’t mess us up anymore, okay…?” He smiled and patted my knee, like I was some angry kid. “Now, did the doctor give you something to get you out of this shitty mood?”
“Jill had a bag with painkillers and anti-imflammatories in it. I’m sorry to be such an arsehole, I’m just angry, I suppose.”
Neill got up and pulled a t-shirt over his boxers. He rummaged around until he found the pharmacy bag, then chucked it my way. From our shelf, he selected a glass that looked cleaner than the others. “I’ll go and fill this up for you, yeah? I hope you’re not so prickly when I come back.”
“Thanks,” I said. I slowly pulled myself to my feet, shaking the bedding off my lap. I’m not going to say it didn’t hurt, but I could manage. I couldn’t lie in bed all day.
I painfully stripped off the track pants that I had changed into before going to the hospital, along with my boxers, and found another pair of trackies. I regretfully ignored my semi-hard cock. There was some half-crusted precum in my discarded boxers, evidence of foggy dream delights. I was navigating a fresh blue golf shirt when Neill returned.
“What the hell are you doing getting up?” he snapped. He stuck the water on my bedside cabinet and forced me to sit down, shirt hanging off one arm. “When I said grow some balls, I didn’t mean bust them by pushing yourself too bloody far.”
My muscles clenched in pain, but I didn’t wince. I thought I was smiling, though it probably looked like a grimace. “There’s no point staying in bed. I’m not some stupid kid. I’ve got stuff to do.”
“Like what?” Neill asked. “Beating yourself up some more?”
I thought of my schedule. I could afford to miss lectures, but couldn’t really pass up the $30 an hour I got for taking my bunny of the day through stretches, a brisk 3km run, ab-blast, cycle and weights routine. It was bloody good money, $60 for a couple of hours of not-so-hard work.
“I’ve got Ms. Gerhardt, for 8.15 a.m. session before her work.”
“You think she’d be happy to see you looking like that?” Neill said. “You’ll scare her off! What’s her number? I’ll ring her and tell her you’re sick, but not hung-over. I bet you can’t even bend more than a few inches, try doing yoga or whatever the hell you do!”
“I don’t do yoga,” I said, grudgingly. “But her number’s in my diary, top drawer of the desk, in the back under G.” I tore open the pharmacy bag and pillbox and swallowed the dosage.
Neill found the number and rang it, explaining to Ms. Gerhardt that I had a rugby injury, which was half-true. He rescheduled her for the same time the following week, and cancelled the other two appointments she had with me before then. He then rang everybody else I had booked.
“I’m sorry, man, I know this sucks, and if you need help meeting your fortnightly hall fee, I’m happy to pay up,” he whispered, between calls. “But you need to recover properly; otherwise you’ll damage yourself later. I’ve listened to you mutter this stuff after seeing physios, so it must be true.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Thanks for helping out with all this.”
Neill smiled. “Come off it, what did you expect me to do? Now, let’s get you back to bed.”
I rolled my eyes. “Really, nurse, it’s better if I do move around, so my muscles don’t go into knots. Nothing strenuous, just walking and stuff.”
“You realize you put your pants on inside out, right? You can’t go out looking like that.”
He was right. “What are you doing looking down there?” I snapped.
Neill smirked, but his voice was a little unsteady. “Thinking about ‘and stuff’- Liam didn’t- do anything- to you there, did he?”
“Protective gear. Box and shin-guards. Probably the only places I’m not bruised.” I stood up and started to uncomfortably strip off the track-pants. Neill hastened to help me, forcing me to be still. I couldn’t help but run a hand under his shirt, across his warm, sweaty skin, then down to his waist-band. I stopped as muscle spasms kicked in, trying not to whimper with the pain.
Neill pulled me gently to him and flicked his lithe tongue over my lips. I couldn’t hold back. My mouth parted and I devoured him. Our searing tongues stroked as our slick lips pulsed. I sucked his hot, tangy saliva into my mouth. Neill broke the kiss with a smack of his lips.
“Someone’s eager,” he whispered. His fingers lightly stroked my semi through my boxers. In a more serious voice he said, “I’m not pushing you. You sure you’re up to anything like this? I don’t want to damage you anymore than you already are.”
I blew hot air on his cheek and curled my lips into a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’ll take my mind off stuff.”
Not only the pain, I thought, but that horrible, unclean feeling I felt whenever I thought of Liam. I felt as though I must have done something to deserve his arousal, besides punching him at the showers. My anger and sadness masked a deep, horrible feeling of guilt, as if everything was my fault.
Neill smiled back. I reached to touch his face, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. A tiny muscle somewhere below my armpit twinged, causing the rest of my chest to spasm for a second. I had to gasp that time.
“You’d better sit down before you fall down,” Neill advised me.
“Okay,” I said, and carefully perched myself on the edge of my bed.
Neill stepped beside me and straightened some of the bedding, pulling my pillows into place. “Maybe lie down for a little bit until the drugs kick in. Don’t shit with me, you look like you’re in agony.”
“You just want to get me into bed,” I teased.
When he frowned, I shuffled myself onto my back. “Like this?”
“Would it help if I gave you a rub?” He saw the horny smirk on my face and laughed. “Not there- Not yet, anyway. I mean like massage shit, would that help the pain or just make it worse? I don’t think you should rub bruises, but you’ve got pulled muscles as well. Would that help?”
“Could do,” I replied.
“So maybe your back? Which bit’s the least bruised?” Neill regarded the dark, red-purple bruises on my chiselled torso. I couldn’t help but groan as he ran his fingertip down the middle of my abdomen, from the hollow of my neck to my waistband. His sweaty hand rested there as he checked my response. He didn’t have to wait long; there was a solid bulge in my boxers.
“As much as I hate to say this – back,” I said. “Too many bruises on my front, I guess ‘cos there’s more padding.”
“Stop shitting Seamus, you don’t have any padding, any fat or shite like that. You’re all muscle… Helpless muscle, at the moment…” He smiled and lifted his hand to flick my nipple. “Are you able to roll over or will I have to help you with that too?”
I gave a small laugh; couldn’t do anything more. “I don’t know, man, maybe you will have to help me.” I met Neill’s eyes for a second, then rolled over. “Okay, I lied,” I murmured. “I’m not completely helpless.”
His fingers flinched a little as he ran them lightly over my shoulders. “That hurt?” Neill whispered.
“Nah,” I said. “I’ll tell you if it does.”
“What about being on your front? That must squash all the bruises, and ‘stuff’.” As he spoke, Neill walked over to his bed. My eyes were slightly obstructed by the pillows, so I couldn’t see what he picked up. “Okay, I think you should lie on this, it might cushion you a bit.” It was his feather pillow, one of those ones that start out plump and pack down to nothing. He helped me slide it longways, under my torso.
He was right, it did help. “You’re really into doing this properly, aren’t you?”
Neill climbed astride my back, careful to keep his weight on his knees. He placed his hands either side of my head and leant forward over me. “Don’t you believe it,” he whispered. I gasped at the warm breath on my neck, inhaling his masculine, sweaty scent from the pillow, as if he was all around me. The anticipation of his touch was as arousing as the real deal.
My semi-hard cock started to get hot and plump up more, cushioned by the pillow.
His tongue traced a warm circle along my right shoulder and continued to circle up around each of the vertebrate in my neck. “Oh, man,” I murmured. “That’s great.” His lips continued to the side of my neck. He mouthed the sensitive, ticklish place beneath my ear for a second before pulling back completely. As he did so, I felt his hard-on momentarily burn my back. My own tingled, deliciously stiffening some more.
Liquid trickled on my skin. The scent only increased my arousal. (I still can’t smell a rose without getting a little turned on by memory of my first time.) Neill began to smooth the oil all over my back. He started by circling outward with just the tips of his fingers shivering on my skin, then his whole hand would contact as he drew the circle back in, before running his fingers down my spine again. It was so amazing, I just stopped breathing for a second or so.
“That good?” Neill whispered. “Feel better?”
“Oh yeah,” I gasped.
He got more into it, applying more pressure to areas that were not terribly bruised, but still in a symmetrical action. As he did so, I couldn’t help but moan.
“You like that, Seamus?” he breathed. He shifted back a bit, now astride my thighs. His greased fingertips dipped lower, following my spine, then branching outward over the rigid muscles of my lower back. The balls of his hands pressed either side of my spine as his fingers continued to feather outwards, this time harder. “Relax… I’m not pushing too hard am I?”
“It’s fine,” I murmured. “Feels good.” Every place he had handled tingled and tensed, waiting for his fingers to return. Heat wired along the centre of my torso, as sweat soaked into the pillow below. My cock had begun to drool slick, hot precum against the front of my boxers and my abs. The waistband felt too tight. I moaned a little more as his touch intensified.
Neill stroked back up my shoulders then all the way down a few times. His fingers drifted a little lower, to the seat of my shorts. I suddenly felt this jolt of panic as my muscles recalled Liam. Neill recoiled. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes as my face flushed with heat. I felt so stupid. I kept telling myself that this was completely different. I loved Neill, I wanted him to touch me, my body just had this strange reflex kicking in.
“Muscle spasm,” I murmured.
“You sure?”
“Aha.”
Neill’s soft lips brushed the small of my back for a second. I felt the ends of his hair flick over my skin. “Is this okay? I won’t shag you, just stroke you a bit? Okay? You can tell me to stop, I won’t mind. I’ll just go back to giving you a normal rub down.”
I felt a tear glide into the crease at the edge of my left eye. “Do anything you like, man.” Isn’t that what they say about falling off a horse? I wasn’t going to let one tiny, fucked up experience ruin this. “I’m all yours.”
He dappled his fingers over the back of my boxers, fast, like a waterfall. Over the top of my buttocks, then along the sides, causing my cheeks to clench. He pushed his palms down hard, circling each individual finger over the sweaty fabric. I groaned as I felt his thumbs press into the furrow at the top of my crease. They rotated, then spread out to my hips.
“More?” Neill asked, momentarily halting his hands.
“Yes,” I gasped.
His oiled fingers peeled down the band of my shorts and played the flesh there for a second. My whole body tingled with need. “Take them off,” I panted. “Neill…” He grabbed the hem of my shorts and heaved them downwards, stopping only for me to reach in front and guide my cock out. The fabric fluttered as it struck the ground beside the bed.
He really got into massaging my arse, applying intense, hot pressure to the sweaty muscles. Up, down, around and around, never once flicking between my legs or down my crease. Until, that is…
“Can you spread your legs a bit?” Neill whispered. His hands were already on the inside of my thighs, guiding them apart. I felt him shuffle further down. His hot breath puffed against my skin.
Then his tongue. A searing muscle slipping its way between my musky cheeks. His fingers parted my quivering buttocks to expose more of my crease as he lapped his way down to my hole. I felt my opening start to twitch a little, as if it was blinking in anticipation of his touch. I jerked up, trying to meet his slick tongue. This resulted in a flash of fire from my abdomen to my neck. I couldn’t help but grunt in pain. At that point, he stopped, “Keep still, man. You’ll hurt yourself,” and panted against my palpitating anus.
“Please, keep going,” I moaned. When nothing happened, I tried again, “Please, Neill.”
Neill made a sound like a laugh. His wet tongue-tip flicked around my hole, then stopped again. “Do you like that?” he whispered.
I felt a sticky, calloused fingertip stroke my hairless ball sac, causing me to jump a little more. “God, you’re so smooth everywhere. Feels like fucking silk.” His tongue returned, this time more insistent. He slurped his way around my burning rim, then pulled me open a little more.
“Uh- Argh-” I felt his moist organ press into me. My cock spasmed, weeping more hot fluid into the damp pillow supporting my torso. He slid it into me, lubricated by copious hot saliva, every part of him squeezed and pressed against my cord-like sphincters. His tongue orbited inside my tight hole, lapped and fucked me. Hot spit trickled down to my tightening balls, massaged in by his fingertip.
“Fuck!” I swore as his thick muscle undulated in my arse. His lips were now firmly pressed into my pucker, sucking and slurping air and saliva around his tongue. He made more noise than I did.
“Uh- Oh shit-!” I was burning all over. My hands couldn’t grasp the sheets hard enough to stop my body moving, trying to avoid the stabs of pain from my torso.
Every now and then I’d get too eager and start to thrash around, attempting to force Neill to touch more of the shivering, hot walls of my arsehole. I’d jolt with pain, sometimes crying out. At that point, Neill would retract his slippery, muscular tongue and massage my back until I was still.
During those interludes, Neill whispered things like,
“Mmmm… you’re so tasty,” followed by a slight snigger, though I could sort of tell he meant it. His normally even voice was ragged and coarse.
And, “I never thought about- frenching someone’s arse before- and you did it- and you call me dirty- Fuck, it felt so good though. I hope you like this, ‘cos I can stop if you don’t.” To which I moaned, “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
When I started to grunt or shriek, he’d get more concerned, though I could still hear the lust thickening his vocal cords. “Are you okay? I don’t want to hurt you, man. Just tell me to stop when the pain kicks in, okay?”
Somewhere along the line, Neill stopped stammering. His voice lost the wheezy quality it had taken on, and became smoother and deeper. It was like a purr. To be honest, it sent shock waves through my body. I got painfully hard, especially when he started to describe his view. “Your smooth, tiny, tight, little hole. I can’t fucking believe how much this turns me on. Shite, god, Seamus, who would’ve thought that this stuff would feel so good. Your tight fuckhole shuts when I pull back. I have to prise it open every time my tongue tries to go back in… Wow, Seamus, I mean shit. Sometimes I think it won’t, that it’s too soft or not wet enough, and I press and then pop, I’m in. There’s no in-between feeling. It feels so weird talking about this, like so dirty, but I’m just getting harder and harder.”
Eventually, he just sounded horny as hell. “You’re arse is so tight- tighter than any pussy I’ve ever fucked… I’m forcing my tongue up that shithole. I’m tongue-fucking your fucking dirty arsehole, man. And you love it, you dirty perv… I’m hard as a fucking rock just looking at your sweet, tight arse.”
“So am I,” I moaned into the pillow. I didn’t think Neill heard me. His mouth was already kissing my musky bum, driving me wild, my heart beating hot blood to every bodily surface.
Neill’s lips vibrated a little against my skin as he sucked my tender perineum. His tongue flicked over my balls. Then he stopped. “Okay, you can roll over now.”
“What?” I whinged.
“Play-time’s over. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” He climbed off me and stood beside the bed. His greased hands gripped my left hip and pulled it to him, compelling me to roll onto my back with a grunt of pain. The pillow was dragged from under my front and chucked to Neill’s bed.
Neill had a wry, horny smirk on his face. “Okay, don’t look so worried. I really only wanted access to this.” He grabbed my throbbing, hard tool and pulled it level. The oil appeared again, this time copiously squirted all over my cock. He gave me a pretty vigorous rub, then pulled away.
A rustle of soaked fabric slipping to the floor. I rolled my head to the side. I had to take a couple of quick breaths at the sight of Neill awkwardly trying to grease and loosen his arse. My heart jolted into my mouth as heat shot over my body.
“Want a hand with that?” I gasped. As I spoke, more hot precum beaded in my slit, quickly trickling down my throbbing shaft, onto my balls.
Neill passed a hand across his forehead and brushed some hair from his eyes. His horniness seemed to have momentarily passed. I saw him draw a deep breath. “I think I’m good,” he whispered. “I think so, anyway…” His voice thickened up as he watched me. “You look terrible. I shouldn’t be doing this to you… I’m sorry. We can stop-”
“I’m all right,” I murmured. “Besides, I’m the one who should apologise. I mean, it’s you that’s going to get-”
“Fucked?” Neill asked. He carefully climbed astride me. “Oh, no, that’s the best bit. I want your fat cock all the way up my tight fuckhole. I want your hard tool forcing me open as I ride you hard and fast…” Okay, I was wrong; he was still horny as hell. “…Yeah, shit I do. Only, you have to promise me that you’re not going to move about too much. Leave everything to me, okay?”
As he spoke, he ran his fingers over my glistening head, causing me to twitch and shake. Electricity jolted through my veiny cock. I got thicker, forcing his fingers further apart, as he rubbed me up and down. It was agonisingly good. I moaned and tried to hump my pelvis against him, but it really did hurt too much. “Promise?” Neill repeated.
“I promise,” I gasped.
He crouched over my dick, using one hand to hold it steady. His other hand fluctuated between trying to support himself and guiding my sensitive tip to his greased hole. He closed his eyes. This time round, I could tell it wasn’t the pain that made him do it; his mouth was open, the edges curled up like he was smiling. He was hyperventilating. As he pressed further down on my cock, his expression changed to one of pain, which he tried to hide by opening his teary eyes and smiling at me.
After a few seconds of being pressed against his tight, seemingly unbreachable opening, I felt his anus yield to my cock. The first inch or so was swallowed by his hot sheath quite easily. His muscular action then kicked in, burning, spasming and protesting my fat cock’s intrusion. Despite knowing that forcing Neill apart hurt him like hell, I couldn’t help but find it arousing. From the look that flashed across his face, I think he did too.
Neill rocked onto his knees and set about easing himself down my shaft. He moved up and down as more and more of my ample cock shafted his tiny hole. Very quickly, my (nearly) 8 inches filled him completely. He sat on my pelvis, partially encasing my ballsac in the crevasse created by the parting of his sweaty man-cheeks. His slightly tight balls nestled above my groin, tickling me with their blonde hairs. I was so fucking horny, I couldn’t wait for this to begin.
I felt his abdomen spasm in pain, but he kept smiling. “This is so fucking good… Your thick meat stretching my arsehole open- Shite-” His hips made micro-movements that my trapped, sensitive glans picked up with a tremor of pleasure. I felt him slowly relax as he tilted his pelvis, rotating his wet, velvety insides so that my cock rubbed his prostate.
“Mmmm…” escaped his mouth. To make sure I understood, he ran his pink, pointed tongue over his lips. I responded with my own steamy groan, stroking his arse.
I was mesmerised by his cock. It curved up, obscenely long against his chiselled chest, like one of those ancient fertility statues. The head glowed red with trapped blood. It seemed to pulse and grow as I watched precum trickle slowly from its slit. My mouth salivated at the thought of taking his sensitive organ to my mouth, brushing it with my soft, parted lips, before licking and plugging the entire length into my narrow throat. I was half-dazed by the idea as I lay there, sucking my bottom lip and jacking his horny cock with my eyes. He had repeated himself twice before I heard him, which made him even more concerned.
“Is this okay?” he asked. “I’m not hurting you am I?”
I reached across and slowly stroked his warm, dribbling cock, thumbing his head and piss-slit. “What do you think?” A smile crept over both our faces. When Neill laughed, I felt his mirth vibrate around my encased prick.
“This is so fucking gay,” he whispered, but didn’t say anything more. He rose almost completely off my cock then pressed down to sheath me fully in his sizzling rectum. He did this a few more times and gradually built up a rhythm; expanding his channel on the up thrust, contracting on the bottom thrust. He leant forward on his elbows and really went for it. My body convulsed with the thrill of being completely jacked off by this hot, tight, wet sheath, so much better than a fist, a mouth or a pussy.
I didn’t have to do a thing at all, which made me feel a bit lazy. I really wanted to share the experience with Neill. I’m not one of those people that can just lie back and let the other person take charge. I really wanted to be able to kiss him and pound him, stroke his cock and back, maybe bend up and lick his nipples, but I couldn’t. I guess I thought that he was getting a bit of a raw deal, but I only had to look at him to see that this wasn’t really the case.
Neill’s head was slightly tilted, his mouth parted. With every down thrust, he panted and his lips jerked like he was smiling. His eyes widened a little more and seemed to light up even bluer. Sweat ran down his entire body, glistening like beads on the hairs and muscles of his torso. His hair was slightly damp and clung a bit about his face. From every place a hair contacted skin, a snail-trail of hot sweat ran. His long cock bounced off his abdomen, above his navel, leaving a thread of precum that joined the two hard muscles together. The grunts of “Uh, Uh- Shite- Argh- Oh, man-!” got more adventurous and louder, as he called out my name and how good it felt.
After some good, long minutes, I began to realise that we were both teetering on the edge. Neill leaned further against me so that his hot cock rubbed over my chest with every violent thrust. His mouth aggressively explored mine, tongue splitting my lips. Those sticky hands found my wrists and held them down, either side of my head, not that they could go far. His arsehole began to twitch and then spasm, squeezing and releasing my cock in a frenzied wave. He slammed up and down my pole a couple more times, burning me in rings of fiery friction. I saw stars, honest to God I did, and I wasn’t the one coming.
The burning prong pressing into my chest started to jerk and shoot white-hot cum onto my flinching chest, neck and face. Neill wasn’t immune. When he finally stopped shooting, there was a big gob of tangy cum dribbling down his jaw, which I quickly scooped away with my tongue. As I did this, my own throbbing prick burst. I shouted in pain as my abdomen tremored. Pressurised cum shot into the depths of his hot bowels. Another load of man-cream splashed back against my cockhead, churning as the next scorching blast propelled through. Neill began to moan and ram himself hard on me, forcing my cock to spurt once more.
My body couldn’t help but convulse, firing needle-points of pain seemingly from every muscle of my body to my brain. My heart was pounding so hard that my blood vessels vibrated with fire. My skin shivered, hot and cold. Everything went white and hazy for a few seconds; pain, pleasure, I don’t know. Neill’s hole started to clench and palpitate; his cock jerked against my chest. His abdominal muscles strained hard as he came for a second time.
“Fuck, Seamus. Shit, Fuck,” I heard him groan. “Argh- Oh, shit-” He slammed his arse down, forcing my cock to penetrate his convulsing rectum far further than it had before. A primal shriek shot from his mouth as he stabbed his arse again and again. Cum literally blew from his jerking penis. This sent my shaking, empty cock off again. I painfully came, clasping Neill’s sweaty body to mine, so that his slick hair and contracting muscles caressed my chest. I sucked and bit his neck savagely, drawing more deep-bellied grunts from his throat.
As my body throbbed in pain, Neill forced my wrists above my head. His hands were slippery with sweat but his fingers felt like steel. My knuckles grazed the wall with every thrust he made. He bit my lips and tongue as he took complete control, slowly moving up and down, squeezing and pressuring me to cum again. I screamed, I couldn’t do it, there was nothing left.
Still he thrust on and on, faster then slower, sucking me into his arse and forcing me out again. It really did feel amazing; don’t get me wrong, it definitely hurt, probably due to my injuries more than anything else, but honestly I’d never felt so aroused or cum as much as that before. We both forced out more and more cream, swearing, sweating, biting and fighting.
Our orgasms drew away slowly, giving no definite stopping point, just a series of smaller and smaller tremors, his arse, my cock.
“Holy shit, Neill,” I whispered as he climbed from me. My hot cum dribbled from his raw hole as he wiped himself off and searched for some fresh clothing. “That was so- So fucking good.”
For a minute or so, he didn’t reply. When he did, it was if nothing had happened over the last half hour or so. “You okay? You look like shit… How would you like Macca’s for breakfast?” he asked. (McDonald’s, for the unenlightened).
*
Walking with over half a dozen bruised boot-prints to your body, wrenched muscles and a very sore head is not so fun. It doesn’t help if you’ve just blown all your energy on an amazing shag. Neill actually had to support me before we even got off our floor. He was definitely copping a feel of my arse, which had me in stitches of pain and laughter. I was about to give a pinch to one his muscular buns, when a voice behind us spoke.
“Hey guys- You okay Seamus?” When Neill turned us around, I saw Nathan standing in the hallway behind us. It wasn’t his floor; he lived in the Somers wing, which was far more prestigious. It was odd that he was on ours so early. “God, you look like crap. How the hell did you avoid getting a couple of shiners to go with the eyebrow stitches?”
“I’m okay, dude,” I said, slowly. Neill had hurriedly pushed me away by that point.
Nathan is a handsome guy (I never thought of him ‘like that’, it is just an observation.) At that time, his black hair was shorter than mine, probably an two inches all over, with red-brown streaks. It was unstyled and spiky; I’d seen him get up after a hard night and just mess it with his hands to remove any flat patches. To emphasise his tousled look, Nate only shaved once a week. He played his roguish appearance to his advantage; many a girl had fallen for the ‘bad boy turned good’ ruse. Actually, he was far from bad. This is a guy who cries in movies then pretends he’s got popcorn debris in his eyes when the lights turn on; that melts a few hearts too, but since he does it when he comes out with us guys, I’m pretty sure its for real. Who else cried at the end of Kill Bill Vol. 2?
His eyes are big and dark, with the long lashes and heavy eyebrows that girls seem to like. His skin is milky pale, darker around his eyes. He doesn’t freckle, despite being one of those guys who spends summer constantly peeling if he doesn’t use sunscreen. He has a roman nose and lips that appear quite wide, rather than full. Everyone assumes that he is Italian or something romantic and European, but I don’t think he would be able to find Italy on a map. His family are meat-and-three-vege and fish-n-chip people, nothing exotic. Down to earth, nice people, not that Europeans aren’t nice. I think I’m digging a hole here.
“Whatcha doing down here so early, Nate?” Neill teased. “Who’d you score?” That’s the general assumption we had if we found a guy who didn’t belong on our floor the following morning. If the guy looked smashed, we’d presume he’d just crashed in someone’s room.
Nathan shuffled his feet a bit, looking at me. He seemed so damn uncomfortable that he can’t have noticed anything different about the way we were behaving. “No-one- I just- tired- night-”
I smiled a little. “Oh come on, you can tell us.”
“Well- I- um- Jill and me… Shit, I hope you don’t mind.” Too late now, anyway.
I lied before when I said the me and Jill were just sleeping together as an extension of our friendship. It was serious, else I wouldn’t have told Dad about her. What Nate said had me feeling quite fucked off. It shouldn’t have, seeing as I had moved on. I suppose I thought that Jill might wait longer. A bit of a double-standard, I know. I guess it’s ‘cos I adore Jill; I don’t exactly love her yet really I do. It sounds strange, but that’s how it is. I still act like her Dad sometimes and rip into anyone she brings over. It would just break my heart to see some guy mess her up, especially a guy I knew, like Nathan.
It didn’t work between me and Jill, up too close and personal, it just didn’t. We were at the point of hating each other if we didn’t stop and back-off. There was the thing I had for Neill, complicating it all, and Neill and her- Well, it didn’t work. Still didn’t stop me feeling like I had to scare off any guys that came sniffing around her, as if she were still mine.
“Course not,” I grunched. “How long’s this been going on?” You bastard.
“Um- Arr- Last night- Since then.” Fuck you, Nate. Go to hell.
“Hey, we’re going to McDonald’s for breakfast, want to come?” Neill asked. I could have kicked him.
“Yeah, that’d be great. We’re cool, right Seam?” Arsehole. One of the reasons why I don’t like my name, sometimes? People who shorten it to ‘Seam’=’Shame’.
“Of course,” I said. What the hell was up with Jill? I was feeling hellishly possessive. Of all the guys she could have chosen, why Nate? And why last night? Jill didn’t just sleep with guys at the drop of the hat.
“God, you look like shit,” Nathan repeated. “You took off so fast- otherwise I would have taken you to get checked out by a doctor. As it was, coach had to sort out Liam. Good job on that, by the way. He sure had that coming and one of us had to do it.”
“Just had to be me, did it?” I asked, glumly. We had started up the stairs on the way out of the wing to join the parking building. I was having trouble walking, but Neill wasn’t helping, which pissed me off a little more. Fuck Liam. Fuck you too, Neill.
“I’m sorry mate. Once you left, me and Weaver,” our captain, “did try and gang up on Prentice,” our Coach. “He’s gonna leave contacting the disciplinary staff, if you guys can sort it out off field. I know that sucks, but disciplinary is far worse. This way, you guys are still going to be playing in the finals. I wish Liam would get kicked off, but Coach’ll hear nothing of it. I’m really sorry about everything. You just shouldn’t have gone him like that, with all the team arriving for practise-”
I wheeled on Nate. He’s a nice guy, he was just pissing me off that day, first with Jill and then with assuming that it was my fault that the fight happened. “You really think it was me that started it? It was that fucker, you understand, not me, okay? So just shut-up about it.” Be glad I don’t bash your face in to go with it.
As I spoke, I heard Neill swear. He was ahead of us on the second floor of the parking garage, jangling the keys to my car. He was looking for where I’d parked it. We’d already agreed that I probably shouldn’t drive. “Seamus, you’d better come look at this.”
Someone had backed into my car, side on, even though it wasn’t jutting out of the park. The left tail-light was broken, the bumper dented, and the rear side-panel crumpled a bit like a dented beer can. More than one point of impact. An unlikely accident. If it was, whoever had done it hadn’t left any note. I still wonder whether I was paranoid to assume Liam was involved. I wanted to go find him and rip his head off, but somehow I was persuaded to have some shitty McDonald’s breakfast instead. Probably because I really had no energy to protest what Neill and Nate were saying.