A gay story: The Wide Receiver Scores Pt. 02 “I told you Mom, I’ll be there Wednesday. I have a project that’s due at midnight on Tuesday, and knowing my group, we won’t be done anything before 11:59!”
“Don’t your professors know that Thanksgiving is for FAMILY?” She complained, “I don’t understand why they have to make these projects due right around the holidays!”
I let out a sigh and smiled.
“I know Mom. You and me both. I’ll be there as soon as I can!”
“Alright,” she sighed back, accepting my explanation lovingly (and begrudgingly), “and John is going to see his family too I hope?”
Ugh. I was worried she’d ask about him.
John is my football playing stud of a roommate that I had a pretty wild night with about a month ago (my mother didn’t know that though). Things have been a little awkward between him and I since. More on that in a minute.
“No, I don’t think he is,” I confessed to her, “I guess he has practice starting again Saturday afternoon, and with his family out in California, he didn’t want to make that trip just to have to come back as soon as he got there.”
“So he’s going to be ALONE for THANKSGIVING?!” My mom shrieked, appalled at the thought.
I rolled my eyes.
“Mom, I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’ll probably be with a girl or something.”
“Does he have a girlfriend?” She asked.
“I mean, I guess I don’t know. I don’t think so?”
“ADAM!” Now she was in full mom-mode, “You were going to just let your roommate be by his lone self on a holiday when you knew he was welcome at our house??”
There was no talking her out of it when she got like this. I didn’t even open my mouth, she just kept going-
“You are going to invite John to Thanksgiving. We only live a couple hours from campus. He can have a nice family Thanksgiving and be back in time for his practice.”
I was not very eager to extend that invitation on my mother’s behalf. I thought I might have an “out” though.
“Mom, he’s a pretty big dude (I tried not to let my mind wander thinking about how true that statement was). It’s not like we can just put him on the couch.”
She was a step ahead of me.
“Your father is in the basement finishing up the new guest room as we speak! He’s so pleased with it, and I have to say: It’s quite well down. Like a little hotel down there! John will be perfectly comfortable”
My only real excuse as to why I didn’t want to invite John wasn’t exactly something I could disclose to my mom. I mean, she and my dad were both well aware of the fact that I was gay. But I didn’t exactly go out of my way to tell them about my sexual endeavors.
So, I conceded but made no promises.
“I will invite him. But if he doesn’t want to come, I’m not going to force him.”
“Of course he’ll want to come,” she responded matter of factly, “what college boy doesn’t love a good home-cooked meal?”
And with my marching orders received, the call closed.
I smacked both my hands to my face and dragged my cheeks away from my eyes. I should have just told my mom that John had other plans. One little lie, how bad would that have been?
Last time you heard from John or I (Part 1 of this series), he’d turned one of the most embarrassing nights of my life into one of the most unforgettable nights of my life (but for different reasons). His muscular body and rock solid cock had filled my body in a way I had never imagined possible. At the time, I didn’t know if it meant anything for a future between the two of us, but I would be lying my if I didn’t admit that I definitely hoped that it did.
The day after our affair I had dragged my friends Ashley and Jess to the football game as I had promised John I would be there. I didn’t want the girls to know about my night with John, so I tried to be as nonchalant as I could about wanting to be there. When John scored the go-ahead touchdown late in the third quarter, it was all I could do to keep it together. Shamefully, I thought to myself, “This must be what Taylor Swift feels like watching Travis Kelce.” Talk about in over my head.
After the game was over and the team had won, I couldn’t help myself: I sent him a text-
“Hey, great game! Your touchdown was awesome :)”
I felt a little strange sending it. John and I didn’t exactly text with one another unless it involved something related to the apartment. This would be the first time either of us would have texted the other person about something…personal? I tried not to think too hard about it.
10 minutes went by. No response.
23 minutes. Still nothing.
“He’s just showering.” I told myself. “He’s with his team! He probably doesn’t even have his phone!”
47 minutes. No text back.
I was starting to feel foolish. Not because John had done anything wrong; it was just stupid that I had let myself get so worked up over this! And not just the text; all of it. How ridiculous that I thought for a second that John and I were going to have a relationship. He probably only thought I was attractive the night before because I was dressed like a woman!
*Buzz*
John texted back.
“Hey thank YOU! 🙂 Were you at the game?”
I could breathe again.
Of course I noticed that he sent a smiley face, and obviously I was going to over analyze the fact that he wanted to know if I was actually at the game and not just watching it on TV. But I had to play it cool. I didn’t want him to know my emotional well being for the last hour had hinged on his response back. I was going to make him wait a bit.
12 minutes seemed long enough.
“Yeah, I went with Ashley and Jess. It was a lot of fun!”
He was more prompt this time. 7 minutes later:
“Cool :)”
Cool. Cool! Cool?!
Not, “That touchdown was for you, babe”? See, THAT would have been cool.
But it was certainly better than nothing.
I decided not to text him back. I was sure he was with teammates and they probably had football things they needed to do. And after all, last night I’d told him not to worry about our little night together. It would be a bad look to go back on that now.
I didn’t see or hear from John for the rest of that day. He got home pretty late that night and I had felt like it would be weird if I was just there waiting for him. The next day I had gotten up early to go home to visit my family, so we didn’t see each other then either. I had thought about texting him again, but thought that might be weird. I hoped maybe he might text me instead, but he didn’t do that either.
A day turned to days. And days to a week. John was out of town for an away game. I spent extra time in the library for midterms. It didn’t seem like we were deliberately avoiding each other, but we didn’t seem to see each other either.
In the brief moments where we did cross paths, our interactions were just like they were before. Brief, but friendly. The only thing that was awkward about it was the fact that we both knew John had filled my ass with his ejaculate a couple weeks earlier. Otherwise, it was totally normal.
There was one evening where I thought things might change. I had been sitting at the kitchen counter when John popped in to grab a snack. He paused his scan of the kitchen contents and turned to me.
“Hey man, do you have a minute?”
My heart was in my mouth. I know that I had been wanting to have a talk, but now I wasn’t sure I was ready. My legs weren’t shaved and my hair was messed up from the hat I had been wearing. If I was going to listen to this boy tell me that he wasn’t gay and that he was just confused one night and did something stupid, I at least wanted to look my best while he did it.
But I did have a minute.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I asked as if it wasn’t glaringly obvious what was up.
He turned to me, placing both his hands on the kitchen counter. Sitting in the chair at the island, I was looking up at him. Even with the island countertop between us, it felt like he was towering over me.
He took a deep breath to speak-
-a knock at the door.
He turned to look at the door, and then back to me. A small smile crept over his face, and then a shake of his head. I smiled back at him. It was like the universe was making a joke at this point and we were both in on it.
I could hear, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” muttered under his breath as he reached for the door.
On the other side were a pair of blonde sorority girls and someone who I assume was John’s teammate.
“JOHN! What are you still doing here? You know it’s Wings Night at Barry’s! We’re all going!” One of the girls piped up.
“Ah, right.” John replied with poor effort at showing enthusiasm.
The other blonde continued.
“John, you have to come! We promised Sarah you’d be there! You know she’s crushing on you BAD…”
He smirked and looked down at the floor.
“Yes, I am aware.” His interest level unchanged with the new information.
The first blonde spoke again-
“Gosh John, SORRY a cute girl likes you! Didn’t realize it was such a burden for you.” She was starting to get annoyed with his lack of mutual excitement.
I could see his eyes roll from the back of his head.
“It’s not that-” he started, turning back to look at me, as if trying to gauge my opinion of him walking out on the talk that was weeks in the waiting.
As badly as I wanted to finally get everything out in the open, I could tell this wasn’t the moment to be a needy boyfriend.
I gave him a small shake of the head as if to say, “No problem”.
His gaze lingered on me for just a moment to confirm his understanding of my signal before slowly turning back to them.
“Come in. I’ll be right there.”
As they stepped through the door, he darted back to his room. None of them seemed particularly interested in meeting me, so I sat there quietly while they murmured amongst themselves.
As soon as John came back, they were headed out the door. As he trailed behind them, halfway through the door, he stopped and looked back.
“I don’t actually want to go.” He said quietly, as if he needed my blessing to be on his way.
I laughed softly to myself and smiled at him.
“I could tell.”
He gave me a quick wink and was out the door.
I really really wanted to be mad at him for this weird game we were playing, but he was making it awfully hard.
And now here we were in the present day. We still hadn’t talked. Things were still awkward. And my mom wanted me to invite this boy home for Thanksgiving.
From my mother’s perspective, this was nothing more than a friendly gesture between roommates. There was no way for her to be aware of the unaddressed sexual tension that had been slowly simmering over the past month. But that didn’t make it any less real either.
On the Sunday before Thanksgiving, my opportunity presented itself. John was sitting on the couch watching an NFL game while scrolling on his phone. Fortunately, he was fully clothed, which wasn’t always the case when he was in this position. Having this conversation was going to be hard enough; I didn’t need to be staring at his exposed chest while it happened.
As I stood there in the living room like an idiot while I waited for my brain to send words to my mouth, John broke the silence, albeit in reference to the game.
“If I play in the NFL one day, I hope it’s for one of these teams that actually use tight ends in the pass game too. I’d get so bored of just blocking.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I took it as an ice-breaker.
“Yeah for sure. Do you want to come be with my family for thanksgiving?”
Way to ease into it, Adam, I scolded myself.
John looked up at me, visibly surprised at the question.
“Thanksgiving? Like, this week?” He stammered out.
“No, next year’s Thanksgiving.” I chirped back, perhaps a little too sarcastically. Ugh, why was I choosing now to be bitchy with him?
“Uhh…” his voice trailing off as he thought about it, “I mean, yeah. That would be great. I was just going to hang out here. Is that going to be a burden on your family?”
“No, not at all,” I reassured him, “my mom practically insisted that you come.”
“Oh okay, cool,” he paused as he processed that, “you talk to your mom about me?” He quizzed with a smirk.
“Only about THIS.” I said, trying to keep his head at a normal size.
He laughed.
“Well of course,” he replied, amused with himself, “what else would there be to discuss?” He teased, adding another one of his little winks.
How this boy could be so brazen truly bewildered me. I matched it though.
“I sure can’t think of anything.” I winked back at him.
“Oh ho HO!” John’s smile was huge as he looked away and laughed. I could tell he was biting his cheek.
I could feel my dick quiver from the conversation. The tension was begging me to say, “Maybe you should remind me,” but I didn’t.
He turned back to me, only to say:
“I see how it is.”
“Do you?” I asked genuinely, “Because I don’t.”
John could sense me being more serious and changed his tone.
“It’s a two hour drive to Akron, right?” He asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to talk then.”
I didn’t love the answer, but it was true. We’d have the time.
He continued.
“I have practice Wednesday morning. We’ll leave in the afternoon?”
I stared at him. Part of me felt like this was all just a big game to John. He had to know I could make his life miserable if he did me wrong with this. I could accept it if he felt like he’d made a confused mistake. But it was starting to feel like this was all a lot of meaningless flirting. If I was just some sort of unique notch in his belt, I wasn’t going to be too pleased.
I agreed to the plan and left the room.
**************************************************************
When John had acknowledged the fact that he and I had a two hour drive coming up together, I had assumed he meant we’d take a moment to discuss our little situation. I had not thought it would mean we would be on a mini road-trip together talking about all sorts of others things while listening to music. Was I having an enjoyable time? Undoubtedly. But were we addressing the situation? Not at all.
In fact, it was probably making things worse.
Part of the drive was spent with John telling me about his younger brother who was in high school and wanted to play college football, just like John. But John didn’t think his brother should go down that road because even though John loves football, he feels like his brother should put more of his energy into the school robotics club that his brother is a part of. John said that his brother was already receiving scholarship offers from all over the country because of the robots he could build and John was so proud of him for doing so well.
John also told me about how when he was a kid, he always wanted to a veterinarian when he grew up. But sometime in high school when it was time to start learning about biology, he realized he just liked petting animals, and he didn’t really care to learn about what made their bodies work.
All the while, I’m learning more and more about this thoughtful and funny guy who I thought was just a great cock. I mean, I knew he seemed nice, but I never expected someone so reflective too.
The whole conversation was doing nothing more than place me deeper under his spell.
When I saw our exit to get off the interstate and enter my home town, I snapped out of it. I knew that I couldn’t walk into my home without at least some better understanding of what our dynamic was.
“Can we just talk about THAT night really quick? You know, before you come into my childhood home, meet my family, etc.?” I pleaded with him.
At first he didn’t say anything. He just turned his head to look out the window, facing away from me.
Ten seconds went by that felt like a minute.
“Great,” I thought to myself, “we were having a lovely conversation and I couldn’t help myself.”
He turned back to me and asked a question back, “What do you want me to say about that night?”
I could think of a lot of things.
“I had a wonderful time.”
“Your ass is better than any woman I’ve been with.”
“We should do it again sometime.”
I settled for, “I’d just like to know if you feel like it was a mistake.”
“A mistake?!” John scoffed. “Okay, sure. That’s easy. No, I do not feel like it was a mistake.”
His small affirmation already had me feeling much better about things, and I would have been content to leave it at that for now, but he continued:
“The only thing that was a mistake was probably opening that door at all. Because now it’s something I think about. And I don’t know how to feel about that.”
“Like, you don’t want to think about possibly being gay?” I pressed.
“I mean, to be honest, yeah. And I’m sorry if that’s offensive, I really don’t mean it like that. I just…I don’t know. The guys on the football team aren’t really great about the whole ‘being accepting’ thing. And I’m still attracted to girls like I was. It’s just…”
His voice trailed off. We had turned onto my street.
“It’s just what?” I implored, trying to drive a bit slower without being obvious.
John turned and looked at me.
“It’s just sometimes I find myself thinking about that night more than I probably should.”
I didn’t say anything back. “More than I probably should”? What does that even mean, I asked myself. Like it’s bad for him to think about it?
We pulled into the driveway. Somehow I found myself even more frustrated than I had been before. Was that his was of telling me that he had a good time but we couldn’t do it again? And the reason we couldn’t do it again was because the football team? Or was this just a convenient excuse? Either way, It just seemed so STUPID.
I went through the evening pretending I hadn’t been bothered by the ending to the car ride. Everyone loved John, which was not a surprise in the slightest. Mom thought he was just ever so charming, and dad was impressed when he offered to take of the dishes after dinner. My little sisters giggled and whispered between themselves about how cute they thought he was. I guess the cousins were going to be there the next day and they were all excited to play football with him. As per usual, he was in prime position to be the faultless hero.
I know it sounds bitter and I shouldn’t have been. I understood that John was probably pretty confused after our rendezvous, and I also recognized he had a lot of people that looked up to him. A sexual relationship with his twink roommate just didn’t fit the image that he had formulated for himself.
It just kind of stung to be cast aside because I didn’t fit his image just right.
When it was time for everyone to head to bed, I was ready to have a little bit of space to myself. Instead, I was met with more unfortunate news: My mother had forgotten to mention that my youngest sister had taken up residence in my old bedroom during my time away at college, so my new accommodations involved joining John in the basement guest bedroom. My dad had managed to convert it into a pair of twin beds when he found out we were having company. Mom thought it would be “cute” to have the roommates stay as roommates.
Tired and annoyed, I joined John in the guest bedroom. I had to admit; it was pretty nice down there. With fresh white carpet installed and a pair of new beds, it did kind of look like a little hotel room. Complete with the attached bathroom, it may have been a little on the small side, but it was certainly chic, yet cozy..
John was already under the covers (sort of) when I entered the room. At 6’3″ and 210 lbs, his body wasn’t exactly contained by the sheets of the twin mattress. He slept on a queen size bed in our apartment back at school, so it was a bit bizarre to see such a large man on such a measly bed.
After brushing my teeth and completing my bedtime face routine, I offered him a quiet “Good night” before turning out the light and slipping under the covers. I didn’t really want to be there in that room with him. It’s not that I felt unsafe or even rejected by John; it just seemed apparent that he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of any sort of future relations.
“Hey,” his voice cut through the room’s quiet darkness, “I’m sorry if what I said in the car came out wrong. I just want you to know I have really appreciated how patient you’ve been this last month.”
I turned to face his direction, and I thought I could barely make out some of his facial features as if he was turned looking back at me.
“It’s alright John. I know you have lot on your mind.” I assured him, trying to seem sincere, “I just felt like we had a good time together, so I wasn’t sure what you were thinking.”
I heard him let out a deep sigh, followed by-
“We had a great time together.”
And then nothing more. I heard him rummage around and bed, and it looked like he had turned his back to me. A few minutes later, soft snores began from the other side of the room.
********************
“YOU are going to play football with the boys?” My 13 year old sister asked in disbelief.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I called back, knowing damn well why she was astonished. I hadn’t played in the family’s Thanksgiving football game since I was about 9 years old. But I thought it might be worthwhile to show John I possessed at least some athletic ability.
Yes, every year after our Thanksgiving meal, our family went out for a game of two-hand-touch football. During most years, the game included my uncles and my dad playing with my cousins while I sat with the ladies and we watched the nonsense ensue. But this year, we had added John to the mix, and I figured why not me too? Perhaps displaying a little bit of athleticism might spring the boy into action. I had played 4 years of soccer in high school after all.
As is always the case, the game was largely just an opportunity for the cousins to burn some energy. Every now and then the adults spring into the action, but historically this has a particularly high injury rate. So any more, it’s typically the kids doing most of the work.
They thought it was particularly fun trying to take turns trying to defend John. Standing an easy 6 or 7 inches above even the eldest cousin, there wasn’t really anything they could do to stop him, but it didn’t keep them from trying. After about a dozen of their failed attempts, John said to the boys, “Maybe we should see if Adam can show you guys how to do it?”
“Adam?!” My cousin Michael questioned, “I don’t know. He’s not much of a football player.”
“I don’t know….” John tilted his head as he looked at me, “I think he might have some spunk.”
He flashed that dumb little grin and a quick wink. What a tool.
But I’ll bite.
“Move aside boys,” I shooed my cousins away, “I’ll show you how to do this.”
Unfortunately, John stood a full 6 inches over the top of me as well, so he was able to catch the first pass thrown to him with relative ease.
“Damn Adam,” He turned back to me after catching the pass, “is that all you got? I think you can give me a little more than that.” He gave me a pat on the ass as he trotted by.
Fine. I’ll show him more.
This time, I made sure he couldn’t get running by me, so instead he had to settle for catching a crossing route. He caught the ball without issue. But I don’t think he expected me to lower my shoulder into his rib-cage, sending both of us skidding across the wet grass.
There was an audible “Ohhhh!” from my family standing by. I suspect they probably didn’t think this was the way to treat our guest.
But John loved it.
He popped right up and got right in my face, “WHOOOOO! There we go, I knew that was in there!” He laughed and gave my ass now a very firm smack. I tried not to blush.
The football festivities ended pretty shortly after that, which I was grateful for. I was happy to show John a little bit of fire, but truthfully, I think making that tackle probably hurt me a lot more than it hurt him.
We both headed down-stairs to clean ourselves up. Being the consummate gentlemen, John granted me first access our room’s shower. Part of me wanted to joke and invite him to join me, but I wasn’t sure how that sort of comment would go over.
Refreshed from the shower, I put on a crop top and a pair of my short track shorts. It’s not really something I would normally wear around my family, but I figured John and I would probably just hang out in the guest room until it was time for dinner anyway. I wore this sort of thing around the apartment from time to time, so I figured it would be fine here too.
I was laying on my bed scrolling on my phone when John emerged from the bathroom in just his towel. This wasn’t that out of the ordinary either; he was no stranger to perusing the apartment in just his towel until he decided he was ready for clothes.
What WAS a little unusual was when he stepped past his travel bag and began walking over to where I was on the bed. Also, I could see out of the corner of my eye that rather than looking for clothes to put on, he was looking at me.
Now he was basically standing over me in nothing but the towel. I looked up at him.
“Can I help you?” I asked, halfway laughing at how weird he was acting.
“I mean, maybe?” He replied, dropping his towel to the floor to reveal his half-erect cock.
“Oh my gosh, John!” I shouted at him in a whisper, “What is the matter with you??” My body was pulling me to the other side of the bed while my eyes stayed glued to his cock.
“Oh, come on, I saw that look in your eye out there!” John hastily whispered back, “I could see how badly you wanted to take me down! I may not be perfectly confident in the whole gay part of this, but I’m smart enough to feel the tension that has been in our apartment for the last month.”
“Well then why didn’t you do anything about it?” I snapped back, still trying to keep my voice down so as not to alert anyone upstairs, “Why have you been so insistent on pretending nothing happened?”
“I haven’t pretended nothing has happened!” John’s voice starting to seem a bit agitated, “I just haven’t had a chance to talk to you. And what was I supposed to say? ‘Hey Adam, I want to fuck your ass every time I see you walk out the door to go to your pilates class’?”
I could feel my dick start to rise in my shorts. It had an idea.
“Fine,” I said back, “if that’s how you feel, and if you really want to fuck my ass, then you have to suck my dick first.”
John stared down at my dick. My five inch pecker was not the specimen that he had attached to him, but it was enough that there would be no fooling himself into thinking he was doing anything other than sucking cock.
He looked back up to my face-
“Fine. I can give it a shot.”
I was in near shock as he moved to the base of the bed and he grabbed both of my ankles to pull my entire body towards him. With my legs now dangling off the end of the bed, he knelt down to where he was face to face with my penis that was now straining against the lining of my shorts. I found myself holding my breath as he gingerly pulled the shorts waistband down so my humble cock could spring free.
His oral efforts were exactly as you might think they would be: A man who’s seen and felt it done many times, but isn’t entirely certain how to do it himself.
At first he was a bit timid. It took him a moment to assess how wide his mouth would need to be to avoid grazing me with his teeth. With that established, he began to experiment with different combinations of tongue and hand involvement. It was the first time I’d ever seen John look like he wasn’t entirely sure of what he was doing.
Even if it wasn’t perfect technique, I was eating up every second of it. Looking down at this muscular man attempting to bury his face in my cock was a sight I had never thought imaginable. A football star, lusted over by many and adored by all, was right here giving it his best shot to make my dick explode. If the world only knew.
After about 10 minutes of genuine effort, I could see he was starting to tire out. I was as horny as I had ever been, so I was perfectly happy to call him off and offer my end of the deal. But just as I went to speak, he waved me off and increased his intensity. This boy was determined to make me cum.
Shortly there after, John had stumbled into a nice rhythm and I started to sense my first hints of an orgasm. My hips began to slowly rock in step with his tongue and hands. Suddenly, things were starting to feel very good.
He slipped his left hand under my ass as if to serve as a handle for pulling my dick deeper into his mouth. Now he was controlling the pace and depth of my bucking hips and I was just along for the ride. A soft moan began to escape my lips. Waves of pleasure starting to come crashing through my body faster and faster.
Well I’ll be: He was going to make me cum.
Just as I knew explosion was imminent, I heard an unwelcome sound: It was footsteps headed down the stairs, followed by the sound of my mother calling out, “Adammmmm, Johnnnn”.
But I knew that she was still just at the top of the stairs. We had enough time.
Understandably, John began to hesitate and I could sense him start to pull away. But he was too close to the finish line to give up now.
Was catching the back of his head and keeping his lips firmly sealed on my cock the right way to treat a guest? Absolutely not. But I didn’t care. After the past month, this boy deserved this facial.
His hands began to give my legs a pretty firm shove away, but it was too late. Between the pleasurable strokes of his tongue, and looking down at him helplessly trying to escape my load, I erupted into the back of his throat. I held onto his hair for a few extra pumps before letting him stumble backwards. I would have felt bad if the whole thing hadn’t felt so incredible.
I’m sure John would have loved to spit that semen out, or maybe go ahead and slug me, but we only had about five seconds until my mom was going to open the guest room door. It was just enough time for me to slip my shorts back up and for Adam to sneak back under his towel.
She knocked, and immediately entered.
“Oh John, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed.” she cried, embarrassed at herself.
I looked over at him. From the slight filling in his cheeks, I could tell he was in no position to talk.
Unfortunately for him, Mom asked another question-
“We were just about to put in a couple frozen pizzas. What toppings do you prefer?”
I couldn’t help myself.
“Mom, I think he likes sausage…” I said with a sheepish grin.
I heard the sound of swallowing, followed by a punch to arm that nearly felt like I’d been shot.
“Cheese is fine, thank you.” John corrected me as he smacked his lips, a rather disgruntled look on his face.
“Okay great. Sorry again!” Mom waved, and slinked back out the door.
I turned to face John, the reality of what had just occurred starting so sink in with my post-nut clarity. That probably wasn’t the best way to handle the guy’s first ever blow job…
He was now leaning against his own bed, his face stern.
“I just want you to know,” he began, his voice calm and even, as he dropped his towel to reveal a throbbing hard cock, “that you will be holding up your end of the deal later.”
I gazed down at his cock and then back into his eyes.
Hopping up from the bed, I strolled over to him. At first, gingerly pressing my body up against his, before violently shoving him backwards onto the mattress. I hopped up on top of him, my legs straddling his vascular frame, his cock sliding between my ass-cheeks.
Carefully lowering myself down to him, I whispered in his ear,
“I think I have waited long enough”.
The End