I made a point of being nice to Robert during the week to try to restore our close friendship and while he was cordial and in front of everyone, including his roommates when I dropped by his room at night, he was clearly still upset with me. When we were alone he barely spoke, and was not at all interested in kissing me or reaching into my pants, and as I was trying to avoid jacking off I made no move of my own.
Then, when breakfast was over on Saturday morning, Robert told me to follow him, which I did and he led me to the last stall in the senior school locker-room like he had the week before.
I understood the week before. I had avoided Robert all week (a hard thing to do when you share three meals a day at the same table) and had used him for an alibi without forewarning or so much as a thank-you afterward. But he didn't know what I had been up to (or did he?) and we had been so intimate and romantic (though admittedly that had shifted over time with him having increasingly moved to fuck my mouth holding my head firmly in his grip as he finished himself off even before the previous Saturday when he had basically raped my mouth for the duration in anger).
As he pushed me down on my knees and started undoing his pants and pushing them and his briefs down his thighs, I resigned myself that last week was the first of what had now become a routine. I was one of his sluts, as I dreaded becoming from the first week he had seen the slap marks on my ass. More centrally I was a bottom for all the boys I liked to be used simply for sex, more particularly for their own gratification.
Taking hold of my head in both his hands, Robert proceeded to fuck my mouth and throat as I knelt there on the tile floor.
Having lost any illusion I was anything more than some holes boys could use, I set about taking enjoyment from the face fucking. Whenever I sucked cock I used my mouth, the tongue and cheeks and roof, to feel around the contours of the boy's penis. I tried to imagine in my mind every curve and vein along the shaft and the shape and size of the head. Now I was using my throat as well as my mouth.
Robert's mushroom head was large enough that it actually stretched my throat as he shoved it deep into my face. Relaxing not simply to prevent myself from gagging but so I could feel that head move along my throat I felt it go deep and then slide up my throat like a lump as Rob pulled back. A brush of his precum on my tonque when his cock head was almost out made me salivate before I felt that big lump of his cockhead slide all the way down my throat.
The more I surrendered myself to his using my mouth and throat like this, the hornier I became (having not jacked off for most of the week and having a butt plug in my ass didn't help). So when Robert pulled out of my mouth like he had done the week before and shot his load all over my face I started cumming in my jock without having to touch myself - and boy did I cum.
As Robert pulled up his pants and underwear, did them up and walked away, I was still orgasming in my tight jockstrap. I did my best not to collapse on the dirty washroom floor it was so intense.
Once I finished cumming, which involved scooping up Robert's cum off my face and off my hair and neck and into my mouth, the need to get the butt plug out of my ass took over. Fighting it, I ran the four flights of stairs up to the senior residences and got my enema kit and ran back down to the bathroom to the same stall Robert had just fucked my face in. With great relief, I sat on the toilet and expelled the plug. I sat like that for a few minutes enjoying the post orgasm post-butt plug pleasure.
I then proceeded to use the enema to clean myself. While this was earlier in the day than I usually did it (I usually did it right before I left for Brian's) I would just have to hope I would still be clean when 2pm rolled around. Once clean I put the plug back in and set about my day, which was really killing time until I could go to Brian's and wondering if he had forgiven me and would fuck me or if he would punish me more.
Whatever punishment Brian could think up I resolved to take it because I desperately needed Brian's cock inside me.
Where weeks ago I struggled with the question of if I had to choose between the romantic sex with Robert and being Brian's bitch which one I would choose, sex with Robert was no longer romantic and while it seemed I liked him using my mouth and coming on my face like the slut I was, it was Brian's big cock I desperately needed.
My priorities were now clear. Brian came before anything. I had wanted to be more than just a bitch boy but that had only cost me the one thing I wanted the most, that cock that had raped me when I was 15, an event that had stuck in my head ever since.
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