This story depicts sex between adult men where consent may not be explicitly given, but instead is assumed. In the mind of the author, it does not depict rape, and the sexual themes and acts are non-violent. Any similarity to people in the real world is coincidental. If depictions of these themes are difficult for the reader, or if they are illegal based on the age or region of the reader, you have been warned.
Thoughts and feedback are welcome at jonathanonielsen@gmail.com.
I pulled into one of the parking spaces labeled "guest" and turned the car off. It was already dark, even though it was barely approaching seven in the evening. I shouldn't have been surprised, it was normal to be this dark this early in November, but I was still getting used to the time change away from Daylight Savings. I opened my phone and went to my company's messaging app to review the message Mike had sent earlier.
"Hey John, hope your work week has gone well. I'm having a few buddies over tonight to play some party games, and I wanted to see if you'd be interested in coming by? Here's my address if you're interested ..." I reviewed the address he sent and double checked that I had parked near the right apartment building.
Despite working on the same team for a little over a year and living in the same city as one another, Mike and I had never met up before except for at work-related events. We both worked at a growing software company, and were part of a really small team of specialists for the general Support team. We had interacted quite a bit as part of our work duties, but I wouldn't have considered Mike to be a friend by any means, more a work acquaintance. So the message he sent right before I clocked out for the day was a little surprising. Honestly, I was tempted to decline, but I figured it might be fun to get out of the house for a change as opposed to my usual Friday nights of playing video games in my room.
I had gotten to his housing complex just a few minutes early (I hate being late to things!), so I sat in my car for a bit, casually scrolling through Tumblr and the deluge of attractive, half-naked dudes on my feed. A few minutes after seven, I figured it would be appropriate to show up and I got out of my car and headed towards the "B" building.
Mike's apartment was on the third floor, so it was a bit of a hike up - I was a little winded by the top when I knocked on his door.
"Hey John, glad you could make it!" Mike said as he answered the door. He opened it a little wider, welcoming me into his apartment. It was furnished like your average bachelor pad, but with a southern twist. I could see a camouflage jacket hanging on his coat-rack, as well as a few different baseball caps.
In the living room there was a matching set of sofas arranged around a coffee table, and a large television with the newest gaming consoles hooked up to it.
"Wow, nice place, Mike - and yeah, thanks for having me over."
Mike gestured to the kitchen counter, which was joined directly to the living room. There were some snacks and treats laid out on the counter long with an assortment of beverages.
"Help yourself to whatever you'd like to drink. We have soda or some beers if that's your thing."
I was a little surprised that Mike was offering beer - we both lived in a fairly religious area and I had always assumed he practiced the religion here, which strictly forbade drinking alcohol of any kind. Personally, I had been raised religiously, but I left around the age of 14, shortly after coming to terms with being gay - as with a lot of sects of Christianity, this one was not accepting of gay people. But maybe I read the situation wrong and Mike wasn't a church-goer. Around here, it was usually safer to assume people were and be pleasantly surprised if they weren't.
"Oh, sweet!" I walked over to the counter and grabbed one of the beers that were sitting out. It was chilled, probably just having come out of the fridge. "Sorry I'm the first one here" I apologized. "It's a little weird to show up right on time, eh?"
"Not at all, John! I'm really pleased you could make it. My other buddies should be showing up soon - I got some card games ready for us to play once they show up." Mike chuckled and grabbed a soda for himself.
We sat down on the couch and talked for a bit - mainly about work and the rough week we had. It had been a difficult last few months at work as the company was growing and could never quite figure out how many people we needed on our team in order to keep up with the workload.
Mike was sitting across from me on the opposite couch. He was wearing short but baggy sweat shorts and a sports jersey of some kind (don't ask me, I couldn't tell you what team it represented). This was the first time I really noticed how fit he was, too. We had only really seen each other in person at work events. Our work didn't have any kind of dress code or anything, but this was the first time I had seen him in anything other than jeans and a sweater or jacket - the more casual clothing showed just how toned he was. I also couldn't help but notice just how short his shorts were, and how thin the fabric was.
It had been about forty-five minutes, and nobody else had shown up. Our conversation had mostly died down after we ran out of work things to complain about, and he and I had both slowly reverted to looking at our phones. I went to take another sip of the beer and realized I was dry.
"I'm gonna grab another beer - you want one?" I asked
"Help yourself! And no thanks, I don't drink actually. I just figured you might want to and so I wanted to make sure you were comfortable, y'know?" Mike gave me a very genuine smile as he said this.
"Oh, wow, yeah thanks man." I said, a little stunned by what I just heard. This was pretty atypical for someone who went to the predominant church here. But if he didn't go to church, why did he not drink? I decided to pry a little more. I'm a naturally curious guy, and I thought it was the kind of more personal thing you might discuss with a coworker in this setting.
"You don't drink because..." I said, trailing off and giving him space to respond. I cracked open the second beer and stood next to the kitchen counter.
"Yeah, just my religion, you know? But I don't care if other people do - some of my buddies do as well, so I try to have some on hand for when they come over."
"Oh yeah, speaking of which, shouldn't they be here by now?"
At this point, I was starting to get a little suspicious. Being late wasn't that uncommon, but forty-five minutes late? And the fact that Mike was offering me beer when it was a strict rule in his church? I wasn't totally sold on his explanation, either. I couldn't be sure why, but my intuition said there was more to the story here.
My mind started replaying information I had learned about Mike over the years. One of my best friends at work had actually gone on a date with him at one point - I remember her talking about Mike being a little shy and insecure about his height. He was a shorter guy, about 5-6 inches shorter than me, which for me was neither here nor there. Still, I guess in our current culture of toxic masculinity, being a short king was a bit of an unlucky lot. He wasn't a twink or anything - in fact he was kind of stocky and muscular for his height. I just couldn't place a finger on the "vibes" so-to-speak. Maybe I was just nervous and overreacting in a new social situation. Yeah, that had to be it, I decided.
"Oh yeah... I've been texting with them and it looks like a few of them bailed. So we'll have a smaller group than I expected, but a few should still be coming." Mike said, in response to my last question. His blue eyes flashed to mine as he said this. "Maybe we can start with some card games and they can join in once they get here?"
"Yeah, sure thing." I said, grabbing an extra beer for when I inevitably made it through the one I just opened and heading back to the couch. This time, I grabbed a spot on the sofa closer to Mike so we'd have an easier time dealing out the cards.
Mike leaned over to get to the hidden shelf underneath the coffee table nestled in the "U" of the three sofas. While he was rummaging around, I stole a glance over at him. His jersey had slid up his back, and I could see some exposed skin disappearing into the elastic waistband of his shorts.
I did a double-take when I noticed the elastic strap of his underwear. I was expecting, at the very least, a typical white brief or boxer like Hanes or Calvin Klein. Instead, it was a black strap with the Nike logo on it, and underneath the strap, but in between his shorts was bare skin. Was Mike wearing a jockstrap?
I was immediately on high alert, and I could feel a jerk in my jeans as my dick started getting allerted too. I had a kind of thing for jockstraps. Not quite an obsession, but definitely a fetish.
What was happening? Weren't jocks a pretty tokenized item by the gay community? I don't think many straight people still considered them in fashion. I couldn't look away from the exposed bit of skin and its light dusting of hair in between the two waistbands. Without thinking, my mind wandered, extrapolating what the rest of Mike looked like.
Mike was fairly attractive - he had brown hair and a nice, neatly-kempt beard. His body hair was light blond, so it almost didn't show up, and where the jersey came to a V around his neck, there was some chest hair there as well. He was pretty fit too, probably went to the gym more often than I did.
"Hmm.. how about this one?" Mike said, re-emerging from his bent over position. I quickly tore my eyes away, feigning intense interest in the beercan in my hand. Had he noticed my fixated gaze, I wondered?
"Huh? Oh uh..." I glanced at the box he was holding. I couldn't tell what game it was, but I needed something to distract me from the thoughts I was having about Mike. "Yeah sure!" I agreed.
Mike gave me a funny smile. He could tell something had put me off, but he was kind enough to not say anything about it. He opened the game box and started shuffling the cards. Then he handed out two pads of paper and a marker (also from the box).
"Okay, so for this game, we each draw a card, and then we have to draw what the card describes. If you can guess the prompt, or get close, then you get a point. Whoever drew the prompt gets a point as well." Mike explained.
Easy enough, I thought. I had always felt like I had some modicum of artistic talent, and so I loved drawing games. In fact, in virtual team meetings, it was common for us to play an online game much like this one. It's possible Mike remembered that when picking out the game.
"How about you go first." he said.
"Alright", and I drew a card.
Getting turned on at the worst time possible, the card read. I balked, nearly out loud, at the irony of this card. I thought for a moment and went to start drawing. Still shaking the thoughts about Mike, I tried a few times to uncap the marker before I realized it was still sealed shut. I easily found the perforated line and tore it off, noticing that Mike did the same with his. This must be a brand new game, I realized.
After I was done drawing, I held it up for Mike to see.
"Necrophilia?" he guessed, smiling at the silliness of my doodle. I had drawn someone getting a tent in their pants in front of a casket.
"Close..." I said, "but it's less about the dead and more that it's at a funeral?" offering a hint.
"Oh, just getting bricked at the wrong time?"
"Yeah, you got it!"
We both laughed at the absurdity of the prompt.
"Ok now me" and he drew a card.
I could see the gears in his head turning as he considered how to draw his card. He pulled his right leg up and rested his foot on the seat of the couch so he could use his knee to draw against. With his tongue barely sticking out of his mouth, he screwed his face up in concentration, intently focused on his drawing pad.
Stealing a glance, I could see the loose-fitting leg of his shorts had fallen down his right thigh because of its upright position, giving me an unhindered view of his thigh. Was my mind playing tricks on me, or could I just barely see at the base of his thigh where it rested on the couch a thin black strap of fabric wrapping around his bare skin and disappearing into the dark shadows?
Oh God, this was bad. I could feel myself getting more and more aroused by this. If we continued at this rate, I'd be fully hard in my jeans just from the knowledge that Mike was wearing a jock.
"John?" Mike's voice brought me back to the present. His pad was turned around and he was waiting for me to start guessing. How long had he been waiting? Had he noticed my persistent stare and what I was looking at?
The drawing showed a person with a ridiculously large ass and a second person standing behind them with the classic cartoon "oogle" eyes.
"Uhh... seeing someone with a lot of cake?" I guessed the first thing that came to my mind.
"Yeah, that's it. Well, not those words exactly" Mike said.
"Wow, first guess - nice!" I drew my card - Getting cum on your favorite shirt. "Uhh, are all of the prompts this suggestive?" I asked. I wasn't a prude or anything, but I was already having a hard time keeping my mind focused on things that would alleviate the pressure in my jeans.
"Well, this is the after hours version of the game" Mike said, grabbing another card and reading the prompt out loud, "Having your cake and getting it eaten too."
We both looked at each other and I think something clicked.
"Should we play a different game?" He said, echoing the same thought I had in my head.
"Definitely."
"Maybe a video game, instead?" He pointed over at the T.V. I nodded in agreement.
Mike got up and went over to the entertainment center. He read out a few different titles from the cases of video games he had lined up on a shelf before we decided on a party-style racing game. He bent down to grab two controllers from the shelf they were on, but he accidentally knocked one of them down and into the back of the entertainment center.
"Crap!" he muttered and he got down onto his hands and knees so he could reach farther back into the shelf where the controller had gone, pressing his head up against the shelf. In front of me was a glorious view of his ass, with the thin fabric of the sweat shorts stretched across his globes as he fished around in the back of the console. It could have been a trick of the light, but I swear the shadows accentuated where the straps of his underwear strained against his plump ass.
And for the third time that night, I found myself getting lost in lustful thoughts about my coworker, someone who I had never thought of in that way before. At this point, not just my dick was aroused. I was also getting even more suspicious of the circumstances I was invited here under. The beer, the short shorts, the friends who haven't shown up yet, the newly purchased suggestive board games... The jockstrap! On their own, each could be easily explained, but when you added everything up, it felt more and more like there was some kind of pretense for me being here tonight.
After all, Mike knew I was gay - it wasn't like I was always talking about it or anything, but I didn't do anything to hide who I was. I had brought it up pretty casually in team meetings before if me and a boyfriend at the time were doing something fun on a weekend.
Mike found the controller eventually, and as he walked back towards the couch, he signaled at me with one of his hands. I took it to mean that he wanted to sit on the couch I was on, so I started to move over so he could have my spot. With how close the coffee table was to the couch, he'd have to awkwardly step over my legs if I didn't move, so I assumed that would be the easiest way for him to take a seat.
I read the situation wrong, though, and worse yet, Mike didn't realize I was moving. So as he attempted to sit down, he ended up sitting right on my lap. This did not do anything to help alleviate my current half-aroused predicament, and I felt my dick jump a little in my jeans as his rear made contact with me.
"Ahh!" I said, as he said "Oops!" and, in truly tragic timing, we both moved to occupy the other seat instead, both trying to correct the mistake. This resulted in an exchange of movement, pressure, and stimulation to my junk, and I felt my dick noticeably harden in my pants again. Mortified, I could see a bit of a wet spot forming on the brick colored jeans I was wearing as I passed the cusp of arousal and precum started being produced.
Mike stood up all the way and looked back at me, a wry smile on his lips. I couldn't tell if he noticed or not, but you'd have to be pretty ignorant to not feel someone's hard dick on your ass in that situation, especially given how little fabric was between our skin.
"Okay, you have the edge, and I'll take the middle." he said
"Deal", I agreed
We played a few different races. With all of the games I've played in my life, I thought I would stand a chance, but Mike blew me away in every map. He placed first in every race, with me coming in 2nd or 3rd usually. Finally, after a particularly unlucky race where I came second to last, I was saved by a "low battery" warning popping up on the screen.
"Oh, I need to plug it in. Can you grab the chord just to your left, John?"
I looked to my left, but I didn't see anything there. I leaned over the edge of the couch, but I couldn't find the cable he was talking about.
"Are you sure it's over here?" I asked.
"Let me see..." Mike said, and he almost crawled on top of me as he leaned over the edge of the couch. By this point, his ass was so close to my face, and there it was again - the strap of his underwear... taunting me, begging me to imagine the shape of the rest of his body. While he wasn't directly touching my lap, the closeness of his body and the heat coming off him was certainly doing things to me. "I think it must have fallen underneath..." he said, leaning even further over the arm of the couch, putting his firm-looking cheeks even closer to my face. Worse still, he was squirming around trying to fish out the cable, and I had to turn my face to the side to avoid his rump from brushing up against my chin and nose.
At this point, I was sure something was going on. Was Mike trying to taunt me? Was this some kind of fun joke for him? Invite over your gay coworker under the guise of having a party, get him drunk and then tease him mercilessly? Turn him on until he makes a move on you and then call him out for being predatorial? Was I reading too much into this? Had I just seen too much porn and I was reading into perfectly innocuous situations and falsely interpreting them? No, surely I wasn't that unhinged. Something was definitely going on.
"Uhh.. Mike?" I said, working up the nerve to confront the situation.
"Got it!" he said, emerging from his position and sitting up, a self-satisfied grin on his face. His left knee was pressed almost right up against my crotch now, his face only a foot or so away from mine. "What's up?" he said, seeing my look of concern.
"Uh..." I choked. "Were your other friends still gonna show up?" I settled for approaching the situation subtly - he really just seemed so sincere, and how else do you bring up such an outlandish claim anyway?
"Oh... Yeah they texted and said they couldn't make it, so it's just gonna be you and I." he said. Immediately, I caught the lie - he hadn't looked at his phone since the last time I asked.
"But your..."
"Do you want the rest of your beer?" he asked, cutting me off. He turned around and grabbed it from the coffee table. As he was turning back to offer it to me, his hand slipped, sending the can right onto my lap, spilling the contents all over my crotch.
"Oh shit!" he said as I grabbed the can, but the damage was done. My pants were totally soaked. "Here let me..." he took off his jersey and balled it up, pressing the fabric into my crotch.
At this point, it was too much. Between the ongoing sexual tension I had been feeling all night, having had his ass and jock waistband in my face just a second earlier, and him now applying pressure directly to my junk, I couldn't resist getting a full boner, whether I wanted to or not.
"Let me just get you dry." He said, as I threw my head back and suppressed a moan through gritted teeth - he was very much massaging the fabric of my jeans onto my hard cock and it was sending shivers through me. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"No it's just..." I said, exasperated at this point. I looked down at him, just then realizing that he was practically naked with nothing but his sweat shorts and a jockstrap on. I could now see his full torso - his body was just as I thought. He wasn't thin, but he wasn't thick either. Well proportioned with a tantalizing spattering of hair on his chest and belly, and that classic southern-white and pink complexion.
The rest of my sentence didn't come. He was looking up at me with a look of deep concern in his southern blue eyes. I realized, then, how only the innocuous barrier of my jeans was safeguarding the innocence of this scene. This could just have easily been me looking down at him worshiping my cock.
And with that thought, my mind was made up. I was done pretending this wasn't what it clearly was. Done pretending that I didn't want this to end the exact same way he did. You want to play these games? I thought. Well I hope you know what you're doing Mike.
"Maybe they'll dry better in the machine. Plus, my underwear is soaked too."