If ever there was a week when a distraction would be welcome, this is it. Sadly about the best news I can give you is that you'll find part three of my latest story "Hayden" below. As always, thank you to everyone who has emailed or messaged; it's greatly appreciated.
Wondering where I've been? This should explain: https://medium.com/@alexp336/what-i-didnt-realize-until-i-was-a-published-erotica-author-929a36080af1
As ever, consider me hungry for feedback at alexp336@gmail.com or via my deeply-NSFW tumblr, http://dirtyanon.tumblr.com/
Play safe, and remember - fictional boys don't get STIs but that doesn't mean you shouldn't use a condom. Oh, and donate to Nifty, okay?
-Alex
Hayden - Part 3
I'm not wearing a belt, and so there's only the button fly of my jeans to be tugged apart. Standing on the denim as it bunches under my heals, I tug my pants down, then kick them off from around my ankles. I know my t-shirt is just about covering my erection, but it takes an effort not to self-consciously yank it down further all the same.
When I look at him, Hayden is staring fixedly at me. Eyes occasionally roaming down my chest, but always coming back to meet my own gaze. His expression is just on the attentive side of glazed, maybe. It's enough to freeze me in place.
As I watch, he reaches out - hand still gripping the vodka - and presses the mouth of the bottle against my sternum. Pushes slightly up, the fabric of my shirt bunching around the glass where my lips were just moments before. Raising the hem half-inch by half-inch.
Hayden looks down, and I know he can see how hard I am. My cock bulging fiercely against the narrow confines of the pale red C-IN2 briefs I'm squeezed into.
"Damn, Puppy," he says, quietly. I can feel myself starting to blush, but my dick flexes uncontrollably at the attention, throbbing against my left hip.
"Come on, Hayden," I say, not sure if I'm pleading or something else, but he shakes his head.
I sigh, and then slip my fingers in underneath the broad elastic waistband. I thought my brain would be screaming, on overdrive, by now, but it's like my head is filled with white noise somehow. Like it's all unreal.
I have to pull the briefs out to get them past my dick, which promptly snaps out straight in front of me. Just as I expected, the head is slick with precum, glistening and wet. Hayden looks down at me again.
We're not the kind of people to hang around in locker rooms together, bullshitting while we're both naked. Our high school didn't force everyone to shower together. Hayden might have seen me, briefly, naked while I was getting changed sometime, but it's not like I parade around him with my junk hanging out. Certainly not all boned up as I am now.
I bend down to pick up the briefs from where they've bunched around my ankles, and when I stand up straight again, he's still staring at my erection. Suddenly, I wonder if he's getting hard now too, then squash the thought down when a bubble of fresh juice comes oozing out of my slit.
Honestly, I expect him to say something disgusted about it, but he doesn't. When I look at him, he has this wide-eyed and sort of glassy expression on his face, like he's not sure what's going on but can't drag his attention away all the same.
Holding out my underwear, it's still a surprise when he reaches out and takes them from me. Red fabric hanging limply in his grip. I wonder if he notices the warmth still lingering from my body.
He's holding them still as he reaches for his waist, pushing two thumbs under the broad Calvin Klein logo until he can ease them down from around his narrow hips and - jeans pushed down with them - all the way to his ankles. As he steps out of them, and stands up - my precum soaked briefs still half-balled in his fist - I get my first glimpse of him, naked from the waist down.
Hayden isn't hard. I didn't expect him to be. But there's definitely something going on down there - his cock is hanging out from his body like it's halfway to boning up. I can't help but stare at it, just like he was staring at me; it's taking all my strength not to reach out and wrap my hand around it.
For a moment we're both stood there, frozen in place. Two guys wearing nothing but t-shirts, not even attempting to hide the fact that we're checking each other out. Maybe Hayden is thinking different things to the thoughts going on in my head - I'm pretty sure he is, in fact - but some invisible line has been crossed along the way and, with the help of plenty of cheap liquor and the competitive brinksmanship of close friends, we're suddenly somewhere I never could've imagined.
I almost groan when he bends down, starts to pull my briefs up his legs. It's like a striptease in reverse, but somehow all the sexier for it. By the time he's adjusting his cock so that it's held tightly across his hip by the stretchy red fabric, I'm practically drooling. The dark spot where I leaked through stands out obscenely, bigger than a silver dollar.
"They're tight," Hayden says, his voice low as if he's worried he might shatter the moment we've so unexpectedly found ourselves in. He runs his hand across the swell of his bulge, down the length of his dick and under his balls. "And a little sticky."
You'd have thought I'd blushed enough for one evening, but hearing him mention my cock-drool is enough to send color rushing back to my cheeks.
He lifts his t-shirt up, to mid-chest, and grins at me. "So what do you think?"
I can't help my chuckle in response. "I would've thought that was pretty obvious," I remind him. Hayden pointedly looks down at my erection, one eyebrow raised.
"Yeah," he concedes, "I guess so."
"Do I get to put some clothes on now?" I ask him. There's that damn grin again.
He shakes his head. "Nah, I don't think so." A shrug as I sigh, exasperated. "I was going to let you wear mine, but I think you'd just make a mess in them."
"Whose fault is that, then?" I fire back. Hayden shrugs again.
"Fuck it, dude. Whatever, just go for broke. Jerk off, strip naked, I don't care. I think we're far beyond that, y'know?" He snaps the waistband of his - well, my - briefs. "I'm stood here wearing your soggy undies and you look like you're about ready to bust a nut all over my leg. This may not have been how I thought the evening would go, but I lost track a long while back."
He drops back onto the couch, ass pushed almost to the edge of the cushions, legs spread. Framing his bulge too obviously, too temptingly for me to resist watching it. With one hand he snags the vodka bottle, upending it, throat pulsing as he swallows. By now the wince afterwards is almost second-nature.
"Dude," Hayden grunts, voice slurring now, "what are you waiting for?"
I sit down next to him, so close that our bare thighs are touching. The sparse hairs on his leg brushing against mine and leaving me tingling. I'm not sure if my glance at his face is to check whether he's not happy with that, or if he's giving me permission somehow, but all I see is him rolling his eyes at me.
So I put my hand on his thigh and, before I can chicken out, slide it up until my fingers are wrapped around his junk.
Hayden doesn't stop me. Doesn't say anything, in fact. Maybe he spreads his legs a little more; a slight wriggle where he's sitting, pushing the slump of his body further down on the couch as my grip shifts across the outline of his bulge. I can feel his cock twitching, the firmness of his balls. Unconsciously my right hand has found my own hardness, but I'm not stroking myself, not yet. Somehow, even through my daze, I know that if I allow even the barest of movements I'll tumble over the edge.
It doesn't matter, though, because all my senses are overwhelmed with the feeling of Hayden's dick gradually stiffening as my fingertips carefully knead at it. Shaft getting thicker and stretching out the cotton, as the ridged head gets more pronounced. All the time waiting for him to stop me, and yet realizing he isn't going to.
"God," he mutters, "fuck it."
And then his hand is on me, breaking my grip and his fingers circling my cock. I gasp, as he gives one long, slow stroke - up first, and then back down until the heel of his hand is buried in my pubes, a smear of my precum trailing behind - then a firm squeeze.
"Don't wuss out on me, Puppy."
Almost before I know what I'm doing, I'm leaning down until my face is in Hayden's lap. His arm trapped underneath my chest, my lips against his dick with just the thin fabric of my briefs between us. Slowly at first, then more hungrily I nuzzle against him, feeling him swell against my cheek.
It's only a matter of time until I'm sucking at him through the cotton, tasting myself as the whole pouch now struggling to hold his erection gets darker and wetter. Hayden's hand is a slow rhythm on me, too light to get me off but enough to keep me tottering on the precipice of an orgasm. The grunt that ensues is low and guttural, from somewhere deep in my chest.
"God, Puppy," he gasps, "suck it." I don't wait to be told twice.
Fingers yanking, I pull the front of the C-IN2's down until Hayden's erection jerks free. Let the elastic snap underneath the tight mound of his balls, then feel his hardness slap against my cheek. The heat from it almost fierce.
Turning my head, I run my lips up his shaft until they're kissing the thick, ridged head. Let my tongue snake out and circle it, before - the sound of Hayden's rasping breaths filling my ears - opening my mouth and sucking him inside.
For a moment I cradle the head of his dick, swollen like a ripe plum, between my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Lips stretched wide around his shaft, feeling the pulse and throb of his erection as it strains against me. Hayden's grip on my own hardness has frozen, fingers loosely wrapped around me; I can feel the tautness of his body like it's electrified, a tangible sensation radiating against my face.
Gently sucking in, I feel my cheeks dimple and Hayden's pelvis shift. I think he's fighting the urge to hump up against me, drive his whole length down my throat. For a moment I want it to happen, but instead I let my head dip slowly down into his lap, feeling the ridge of his cock grind against my tongue in the process.
It's not like I haven't sucked dick before. Okay, I may not have blown a huge number of guys, but I'm not a total beginner. So I'm not completely surprised when the tip of his erection hits the back of my throat, and I have to swallow to suppress the gag reflex. I guess that must do something pleasant to the way it's feeling, because a gasp comes hissing out from between Hayden's clenched teeth. I swallow again, and he gasps, the hand that's not cradling my cock coming to rest gently on the back of my neck.
"Suck it," he moans, a pleading note seeping into his voice as the pad of his thumb traces tiny circles at my nape. "Please, Puppy."
I suspect we've got one more part to come, but of course not before Hayden and Paul get their chance to cum. As ever, if you liked it, let me know: alexp336@gmail.com
-A