Micah Just Wants to Have Fun
Micah just wants to have fun
Part 1
Todd Dunne
Comments very welcome. Send to todd.dunne at protonmail.com.
All characters are fictional; this is pure imagination. Disclaimer: If fictional sexual stories involving consensual sex between adult men offend you or are illegal for you read because of your age or location, do not read. Do not read if sexual relations between family members offend you or are illegal to read about where you are. This story is the property of the author, and is published on Nifty under its standard non-exclusive license.
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I met Micah the summer before last. He saw me first, dancing at a club with my friends. I was wearing a tight mesh black tank top and acid-wash jean cut offs, so my massive tanned pecs were almost totally visible and my ass and prominent bulge were well highlighted. This outfit was perfect because I desperately wanted to fuck something after breaking up with my previous boyfriend. My friends swore they would be my wingmen, trying to help me accomplish that goal. Scott, my best friend, suggested that we get up on the stage, so that I could show off the hard-won muscles I’d earned at the gym since breaking up three months ago. I doubted I’d had any gains, but Scott assured me I was looking “huge,” and he’d never steered me wrong. I was dancing suggestively with another friend, grinding against his ass, when I noticed hot guy down in the crowd on the main floor. I would come to know him as Micah, my boyfriend.
Micah may have worn a shirt to get into the club, Swallows, but he wasn’t wearing it anymore. What he did wear was a tiny pair of red booty shorts, he looked delicious. He was svelte, muscular, and mostly smooth, with only a light dusting of dark brown chest hair between his pecs. He was looking at me, and I was looking at him as I ground my semi-hard dick against my friend’s ass. He smiled, and I smiled back. I was about to wave when the friend I was grinding against turned around and kissed me. This was Eric, a cute-ish guy, but not my type, and tonight he was too drunk and I really didn’t want to kiss him. I’m a sucker for making out, though, and I got lost in the moment, so I kissed him back. We were making out for about 15 seconds when Scott came up and grabbed me by the arm. He knew Eric was getting too handsy, and came in to rescue me. “Let’s go. Onyx is going to get busy if we don’t get there before long.” This was a lie. Onyx wouldn’t be getting busy for another couple hours, but it had great cocktails and was good for conversations before midnight. Scott was rescuing me from Eric, which I was soon grateful for.
I finished grinding against Eric, nodded to Scott, and quickly followed him out. Only when we were near the door did I remember the guy in the red shorts, whom I’d wanted to chat up before Eric stuck his tongue down my throat. I looked back in the direction of where that guy had been standing, but couldn’t see him. Scott pulled on my arm, and I turned and we left the place. As we walked out, I wished I’d jumped down from the stage to meet Mr. Red Shorts. ‘Oh well,’ I thought. ‘There’ll be someone else at Onyx.’
Three hours later, I was drunk out of my mind and standing at the urinal, squeezing out the last drop. It was dying down now at Onyx. Cocktails had been good, and Scott had listened to me moan about not having a boyfriend, about missing my ex, hating my ex (who’d cheated on me), and being super horny. He was a great listener, and assured me that I was a catch, that anyone would be an idiot to cheat on me, I’d find a great guy before long, and that we really needed to keep dancing and drink hard tonight. I really loved Scott, whom I’d grown up with and with whom I’d moved into the big city after college.
I finished at the urinal, stroked my 7-inch dick a couple times for good measure (bigger bulge, of course), put it back in my jock strap, and zipped up my shorts. As I was walking out, I saw Mr. Red Shorts. He was walking around the corner into the long corridor with urinals.
In my drunken stupor, I just stared at him. I couldn’t quite place him, but he was looking heavenly. He’d clearly been dancing, because he was glistening with sweat, which emphasized his lithe muscles. As I realized who he was, I started to open my mouth to say hi. “H—,” was all I got out before Mr. Red Shorts walked up, placed his hand on my crotch, and squeezed.
“Mmmm,” he said. “I was hoping to find you.” Then he leaned in and kissed me. This time, the tongue was quite welcome. Before I knew it, his hand had made it into my shorts and he was stroking my cock.
We were making out and he was stroking me in the middle of a busy club’s wall of urinals. Classy. And that’s what Scott thought, when he walked around the corner and sneered. “Dude, Billy,” he said to me, “Not here. Take him home, man.”
I disengaged my mouth from Mr. Red Shorts, smiled at Scott, and said, “Okay, Scott.” Then to my make-out companion, “That cool with you?”
“Take me and fuck my brains out.”
“So that’s a yes,” Scott said. “Get out of here, Billy and—oh, what’s your name?”
“Micah,” Mr. Red Shorts said. This Micah stuck his hand back into my shorts, grabbed my swollen cock, and started to walk me out.
“Night, Scott!”
“Don’t forget brunch!” Scott replied.
And that was how I met Micah, whose brains I did indeed fuck out. Twice, that night. During that first fuck, Scott had called, just to make sure I was home safe. I actually think he was looking for a late-night pizza companion, but whatever, I was fucking this hot dude, so when I answered I switched to FaceTime and focused in on my cock plowing in and out of this hot Micah. Scott appreciated that, I think.
The next day, at brunch with Scott and other friends, I brought Micah. Again, Micah couldn’t get enough of it. He insisted that I join him in going to the bathroom, and we were in there for 10 minutes loudly fucking before I heard Scott at the door insisting that I come out. Micah was always horny. Whether in private or public, we found ourselves fucking all the time over the next several months.
Yes, we were boyfriends within the week. Waaaay too fast for me, but what could I do? I loved his tight ass, and he was nice too. Later in the summer, at the end, when my parents came into town for a weekend, I introduced him to them. My mom liked him, she told me. “He seems to really like you,” she said. “And you’re very happy around him.” I was, and I told her so. I didn’t mention to her that he’d insisted on blowing me in the back of the SUV Uber we’d taken to the airport to pick up my parents.
Micah was always finding ways to suck my cock. In fact, it was bliss with Micah, those first few months. Sex almost daily, often multiple times a day. He practically moved in, would often clean the house, hung out with me and my friends. I was more into this guy, whom I still called Mr. Red Shorts occasionally, than any other guy I’d ever been with. It was way too early, but I was already fantasizing proposing to him someday. I was in love.
Then, in the fall, work got busy, Scott lost his job and had to move in, and things got complicated.
We had sex a lot, Micah and me, but not because I was horny. Don’t get me wrong: I’m a horny guy—I’ve been told as much by plenty of guys I’ve “run into.” But as horny as I am, I was downright prudish compared with Micah. Micah always, always wanted cock in his ass. I would wake up in the middle of the night with him holding my cock and rubbing it against his asshole. At work, I would get photos of him from inside various bathrooms, texting me how much wanted me inside him. It was fun, usually. Sometimes, though, when I was trying to focus on writing a business plan or handling a complex matter for a client, he could be a little exhausting.
More than once a coworker at my consulting firm would ask what I was blushing about when his dirty texts would buzz on my phone. I had to turn off the message preview after my boss nearly saw his pink rosebud pop up on the phone I’d left sitting on my desk. Micah was a nymphomaniac, I realized.
I would soon realize just how horny he really was.
Scott, my best friend, had moved in earlier that week, and was crashing in the tiny little den in my apartment. He was embarrassed to have to stay with me, but his accounting firm had shut down its office in the city earlier that year and he’d found it harder than he’d expected to land another job. After a couple months, he couldn’t afford rent and asked if he could crash for a few weeks. Of course I let him. My place was barely larger than a closet, but I had an air mattress he could use in the living room, which gave him somewhere to rest his head with almost the semblance of privacy. Scott didn’t mind. He was almost an exhibitionist, so because it was hot in the unusually warm fall when he moved in, he would usually sleep either naked or in one of his small bits of underwear. I didn’t know one could own so many sheer jockstraps. At the same time Scott showed up, Micah wasn’t officially living with me, but he stayed over nearly every night. His roommate and his roommate’s dog were filthy, so we only ever sleep there when we hung out at a bar near there and were too drunk to care at the end of the night.
So there we were, three people basically living in my one-bedroom-plus den apartment, which had only one bathroom. Tight, but we were all friendly and we’d make it work, especially since it was only supposed to be for a few weeks.
Three weeks after Scott moved in, it was an early October Saturday morning, and I’d gone into the bathroom to have my morning piss, then jumped in the shower quickly. While I was lathering my hair, I heard the door open, then the shower curtain open, then there was a mouth on my dick. Micah had woken up, horny. I started moaning, and that only encouraged Micah to suck harder. He was downright vacuuming my dick when I heard a knock on the door.
I heard the door crack open. “Hey! I really have to pee. Sorry, can I come in?” It was Scott. The shower curtain was opaque, so he couldn’t see in, and I stopped moaning for a second to say sure. Second later, the familiar sound of peeing could be heard echoing in the tile-walled room.
Micah kept sucking, and before I knew it, I was moaning again. The peeing was stopping, I kept moaning, and Micah released my cock for air. “Wow, you guys are really going at it,” I heard Scott say as pissing continued in the background. Micah looked up at me, smiled, then leaned back and open the shower curtain to look at Scott. I couldn’t see anything, but from the look on Micah’s face I could tell he wasn’t expecting what he saw.
“God, what a big boy you are! Might have to try that sometime when I’m not going at it with this one.” He licked his lips and smiled, then looked up at me and winked.
“Ha!” Scott laughed. “Maybe—,” he trailed off. Micah returned to my penis, and Scott said “I’ll leave you two to your business.”
I was amused at Micah’s joke, but didn’t think much of it. I put my hand on the back of Micah’s head and facefucked him.
After we finished, Micah and I dried off. I noticed that Scott had left the bathroom door open, but again didn’t think much of it. Micah and I returned to my bedroom and got dressed. We went out to the kitchen to have breakfast, and saw Scott at the table finishing eating some eggs. Scott was shirtless, which was normal since he normally slept in some pajama bottoms or boxers.
“Coffee’s ready, if you want it. I can make you guys omelets, if you want.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” said Micah.
“Me too,” I said. I went to the counter to grab some coffee, then turned around to return to the table. Scott was walking toward me on his way to make some eggs and I noticed that unlike his normal sleepwear, he was wearing a jockstrap. And this was no regular jockstrap, which would have been skimpy enough. Instead, this was made of a slightly sheer black material, so now I could see his cock. It wasn’t the first time—we’d seen each other in locker rooms for years—but it was more show-off-y than I’d ever seen before. It wrapped around his cock like a sock, and his cock and balls were weighing it down so heavily that I could see his pubes, which were trimmed but present and heavily dark. Scott, who is of mixed Lebanese and Irish heritage, was very muscular, and this was quite an attractive sight. I noticed my own dick stir a bit. “I see we’re showing off,” I said.
“Well, if you guys are going to get it on practically right in front of me, I don’t think I have to pretend to be a nun,” he retorted, smilingly. “And this just happens to be what I was going to wear for underwear today.”
Micah jumped in: “I like it!”
“Yeah, no worries, buddy. It’s all cool,” I said. Micah, I noticed, was staring intently at Scott’s underwear region. ‘Hmm,’ I thought.
“Then we’re all agreed,” finished Scott, walking to the refrigerator to pull out eggs for our omelets. “So, what are we up to after breakfast?”
We were planning on going costume shopping for Halloween, and he was welcome to join, I explained. Scott enthusiastically agreed to join us. The entire breakfast, Scott stood and chatted with us. He never sat down, and would occasionally reach into his jock to adjust his penis. Micah and I both kept looking at the cock. At the end of the meal, we both sat there for good 30 seconds just staring at Scott’s cock, not realizing that we were both just sitting there, ogling.
“Ha!” said Scott. “Made you look.” He leaned over Micah, nearly putting his cock on my boyfriend’s face, to grab his plate. He then did the same thing to me. “I’ll put these in the dishwasher, then I’ll get dressed and we can go.”
We all agreed, but only when Scott walked out of the kitchen was the spell broken. Micah and I looked at each other, and I said, “He’s a very attractive man.”
“Yeah,” Micah replied. “You have some hot friends.” He seemed lost in thought.
We went to a couple of secondhand stores looking for good costumes. Micah was planning on dressing as Robin and while I was planning on playing Batman. Scott wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but was thinking of something from the sexy public safety person: either a cop or a fireman or maybe a medic. None of the secondhand stores had anything that really worked. We found a pair of tall black boots that would work either for Batman or for a cop, and a belt that was perfect for Batman, but everything else was too big or too expensive (especially considering it was secondhand stuff).
Micah started to complain that he wanted to do something more creative than just another superhero–sidekick costume. Every gay couple did that. I asked him what he was thinking of. He wasn’t sure, but as we were walking out of the secondhand store we walked by a men’s clothing that catered to gay men. Scott mentioned that his friend worked there and said he wanted to say hi, so we went in.
While they were talking, Micah wandered around the store. I followed him, suggesting this and that. “Oh, we could do disco!” He rejected that, and kept walking. Finally he grabbed a thin leather jacket, the kind with fringe on it. It was super old and I wasn’t sure what he was going to do with it. “I know!,” Micah said, “We can wear loincloths!” His idea was to use the jacket, cut it up into pieces, and add jewelry and paint to make Indian costumes. Somewhat offensive, but sexy, so I agreed. We walked up to the front where Scott was talking with his friend.
When I explained what our costumes were going to be, Scott said he liked the idea. “Everyone will be drooling over you guys.” We kept talking, discussing other hot costumes we remembered from earlier Halloweens, when my phone started ringing.
That was strange—the only people who ever called me were Micah, Scott, and my parents, and my parents called on Sundays. I looked at the screen. It was the office. I excused myself and took the call. A big client had just called my boss, asking about a projection for the quarter, which were supposed to have prepared an analysis on by yesterday. My boss had forgotten to tell me about it, but now it needed to be done immediately. Nothing that would take too long, but for this I would have to go into the office (stupid security protocols that this client insisted on). My boss apologized, but that didn’t mean he felt bad enough to do it himself. I told him I’d head into the office right away.
I went back to Micah, Scott, and Scott’s friend. They were talking animatedly. “Scott’s going to do the loincloth thing too!” I looked quizzically at Scott for a moment.
“It’s just such an awesome idea. And Micah thought I’d look great in a loincloth.” Scott was grinning at me.
“Let’s buy necklaces and stuff here,” Micah interjected. “We don’t have the loincloths, but we can just wear our underwear to see how it looks.” I immediately thought of Scott’s hot, see-through jock strap, and started to get a little hard, in spite of myself. I noticed Micah glance down in the direction of Scott’s package. I twinged a little, to see that.
Before I let myself get carried away, I responded: “Sorry, guys, I won’t be able to try stuff on today. That was my boss on the phone. I have to go into the office now. A stupid projection analysis. Shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be home by dinnertime.”
“Oh, okay, we’ll just try it on and buy stuff for you, honey,” Micah said. He came over and kissed me.
“See you, man,” Scott said.
I left, a little nervous, thinking about Micah and Scott. Micah seemed a little interested in Scott’s package. And I couldn’t blame him. It was impressive.
As I took the subway from the shopping district to my office downtown, I kept turning the image of Scott this morning over and over in my mind, that massive cock straining against the jockstrap. Then I was thinking about Scott and Micah going in and out of changing rooms. As I walked out of the station, I got a photo with a text from Micah.
It said:
[11:46 A.M.] Hey how bout these necklaces?
The photo showed both Scott and Micah, shirtless in a dressing room, from the belly button up. Both were smiling, and wearing too many necklaces. I was reminded, yet again, how muscular Scott was. Between the two of them were couple silver necklaces, one turquoise, one made with amber on a leather chain, and one that appeared to be hemp twine with a coin shaped stone hanging from the middle.
‘Hmm,’ I thought. ‘Shirtless?’ I needed to reply quickly, though. No time for dawdling. I replied:
[11:48 A.M.] Nice
Now, trying to think this through logically. The two appeared to be in the dressing room together. Were they both in the underwear? Maybe? Probably, I concluded. I didn’t need to wait long for confirmation.
[11:54 A.M.] Isnt Scott so sexxxy with the turquoise?
Now the photo showed was from a very different angle. This time, Micah’s face right next to Scott’s crotch smiling at the camera, with the pictured angled from the crotch up to Scott’s face. Scott was also smiling. Way up there at the top, you could see a tiny little turquoise necklace. I guess the turquoise looked good, but the cock dominating a third of the photo was much more impressive.
I gulped. What was Micah doing?
After getting those dirty texts and videos, I knew I needed to get home fast. I wrapped up my work and headed home. I got one more message: in this one, Micah hand his hands inside the crotch of Scott’s underwear, around his cock. Scott’s caption with the message was, “It gets so hard!!!!”
I wanted to hurry. What was happening? On arriving home, I saw Scott first. He was kneeling on the couch, shirtless, and grunting. As I got closer, I saw that Micah was under him, lying on his back with his legs in the air. He was moaning as Scott fucked him. Scott looked up, saw me, then winked at me.
Micah moaned again, then continued, “God, yes, you’re so big. Fuck me! You’re amazing! I haven’t felt like this in so long! You’re stretching out my hole so much!” At this, he opens his eyes. He shouts, “Yes! God, yes! Right there!”
He continued to moan and talk about how big Scott’s cock is. Then just in a moment of sudden ecstasy, as he moans he opens his eyes and immediately sees me. We lock eyes. I know that Micah can see that I’m hurt. I can’t believe that he’s letting Scott fuck him. Micah has turned around, and is just bouncing, forward and backward from the motion of Scott thrusting in and out of him. Micah keeps his eyes on me, and then starts talking more. “Oh, fuck, yes Scott. Please fuck me. Fuck me hard. I haven’t felt a cock this massive in me in so long. I miss it so much, fuck, yes, Scott.” Scott is bouncing and staring me in the eye. Micah continues, “Fuck, Scott. God. Come in me, Scott. I want your cum inside me. Today, tonight, tomorrow, forever. You can come in me anytime, Scott. Anytime, I don’t fucking care. As long as you promise to dick me.”
Micah is still staring at me in the eyes. I’m getting hard, just watching my boyfriend get rammed so hard by my best friend. Scott breaks my revery, as I stare, with my right hand slowly moving in the direction of my cock, which is fully hard. He says, “Yeah, you like that, you little bitch?” Micah moans, and Scott continues, “You like my cock up inside your ass? Is it big to you?” Micah nods and moans. “You think my cock is bigger than Billy’s, Micah? Does it fill you better?”
Micah responds, “So much better. It fills me up so much more than his cock. I need your cock in my life, Scott, no matter what. I’ll do anything for your big fucking manly cock, Scott.” Micah is staring at me in the eye. I get embarrassed, my hand now firmly inside my pants staring at my boyfriend getting fucked so hard.
Scott says, “So, bro, I guess your boy likes me fucking him in the cunt.” He smirks, and I nod, staring blankly. “I mean, who can blame him, with this cock.” He pulls out, then motions at his fat cock, covered in lube and precum, and dripping more precum. I stare at it. “So, I guess, you mind sharing your boy’s cunt, Billy? Letting me slip inside it whenever I feel like it? Whenever he needs it?”
Micah interjects, looking me in the eye. “You have to let me, uuhhhhhh, fuck, yessss! God, oh, Billy, ohhhhh, you have to let Scott fuck me, Billy. You have to let me feel his cock. It’s so much bigger than yours.” Staring me in the eye, he looked, then smiles: “I mean, it’s not like you can stop me.” Then, he screamed, “Ohhhh! Yes, fuck, Scott, yeah!” I look at Scott, then notice that he’s looking away from me and from Micah. I look where he’s looking, then I see that he’s staring at his phone, which is propped up on the table. They seem to be filming.
Scott says at the camera, “Yeah, you like that, dudes? You like how I fuck this cunt? Best Snap ever, am I right?” Micah screams agian, then Scott starts fucking harder. “Yeah, fuck Micah, squeeze down on that. Fuck, boy, squeeze that pussy!” Scott keeps thrusting, then starts thrusting hard, really hard. Micah is moaning, and Scott yells, “Fuck, bitch, take my load! Fuck, yeah!” He pounds his cock in hard then holds in there. “God! Fuck!” He leans his neck back, his face pointed toward the ceiling, then I see his abs start to clench as he rams his cock incredibly hard, just one more time.” He bellows, “Fuuiuuuuuuuuuuucck yeah, bitch!”
Micah screams at the same time. I see him starting to spurt. In my pants, I squeeze my hand hard on my cock, then I start come in my underwear.
Micah turns around, and leans back to kiss Scott. Then as he turns back around, he looks me in the eye and says, “That was the best sex I’ve had in a while.” He nods at me, then the stain in my paints where my semen hit. “Looks like you like it too.”
I half-smile at him. Scott says, “There’s more where that came from, pulling out of Micah.
Scott stayed with us for a while. He would show up in the bedroom late at night with his cock out, dangle in in front of Micah’s face, and Micah would began sucking it. They’d often fuck is the bed.
And it turned out that the fact that Micah was taking Scott’s dick was not exactly a secret among our friends. Scott had been streaming it to a group of 20 friends that first day. I started getting texts from my friends with screen caps of Scott fucking Micah. They all professed amazement at Scott’s cock, and mentioned how jealous I must be. The next time, I was included as a recipient on the stream, while I was out of town at on a work trip, I saw Scott fucking Micah in a stream during a super long meeting with clients. I couldn’t help but pop a woody almost immediately. It was crazy.
Scott moved out after about two months. By that point, it had just become a normal thing for Scott to casually start fucking Micah in front of me. There was even one day when I’d somehow gotten Micah to start blowing me—because Scott was out of the house—and as he was Scott cam in and started fucking him. Micah released my cock almost immediately and focused entirely on the massive schlong ramming his ass. He left me to get mysllf off.
After about two months, Scott found a job back in our hometown, a suburb about 45 minutes away. That meant he had to move back there, and was no longer around so often. We usually saw him over the weekend, but we returned to me and Micah fucking. I thought it was like it had been before. I was wrong.
One day, I came home from work and found Micah in the bedroom at the dresser. He turned when he saw me, and held up a jockstrap, one that looked like it had a sheer blue mesh pouch and tiny white straps. “Whose is this?,” he asked. He had been doing the laundry, and was putting it away after folding it. I looked at the jock for a moment, and he asked, “Is it yours? Why don’t you ever wear it?” I looked for a second longer, then remembered,” No, no, it’s my ex’s. That’s it. It’s been a while.” “Chris?” he asked, naming the last guy I’d dated, whom I’d left after discovering him cheating.
“No, not Chris.” It was the guy before him, I explained. Pablo. He was a muscular Latino guy, about 8 years my senior, in his mid–30s. We’d dated about a year ago. He’d been an incredible sex hound, constantly insistently on fucking me. Sure, I’d fucked him a couple times, but he’d fallen in love with my ass and insisted on fucking it nearly every day. So even though I’d usually been a top, I’d bottomed for Pablo all the time. We broke up after a big stupid drunk fight.
I hadn’t seen him since the fight, and there were a few things that he’d left at my place, including the jock. As I explained this to Micah, he asked, “And when exactly did he wear such a skimpy jock?” Pablo had been something of a show-off. He had impressive 10½-inch cock, and he like to hang out in the gym locker room in his jock or nothing at all. One day, late in the evening, he’d even done a workout in just his jock. He knew the shift manager at the time, and the dude had already blown him a couple of times, so he wasn’t going to object. Moreover, the clientèle was mostly gay men, so they weren’t going to object either. I’d been working out in the gym at the time, and this was actually the night that we’d met. He’d fucked me in the shower that night, with a half dozen other guys, the stragglers, the last people at the gym, watching as he did.
I explained this all to Micah, who seemed interested. He asked to see a picture of Pablo, and I showed him a photo on Insta. Pablo was wearing a tiny swimsuit on the beach and his cock was clearly outlined in his skimpy speedo. Micah seemed impressed, then returned to focusing on the jock.
“Well, it’s cute, can I try it on?” I said okay, so he slipped off all of clothes and into the jock. He looked amazing in it, and I told him so. “Really, you think it looks good?”
“Especially the ass,” I said, reaching over and squeezing it.
“Gee, thanks!” he replied. Then he asked if I’d take pictures of him in it. I agreed, and took several photos using his phone. His cock was fully visible through the fabric, and I told him to reach in and stroke it. As he did, I took a video. I told him to turn around and show me his pink asshole, as I kept recording. I knelt in and licked, still recording. He turned back around and I leaned in and rubbed his junk against my face, recording all the time. I started getting frisky, but then Micah reached to grab the phone. “Let me see.”
He looked at the couple photos and extended video I’d made. He watched the video all the way through then started to watch it a second time. “I look good,” he said. “My ass is amazing.”
“You do look so fuckable. Will you send that to me?” Micah just kept watching. “Well?”
Micah looked up and jumped slightly. “Oh! Yeah, sure. I’ll send them to you too.” As he said that, I heard the sound of a message completing send.
“Too?”
“Yeah, well, this jock is so cute, I think Pablo will probably want it back.” So, he explained, he’d looked Pablo up on his own Insta account and send him the photos and the video I’d just taken. He figured the photos would help remind Pablo what exactly he’d left behind. I looked quizzically at Micah, who just smiled. “Oh, yeah, here!” He looked down at the phone and tapped at it briefly. I felt my phone buzz. “There, I sent the photos and video to you.”
I looked at Micah, mouth agape. “Did you have to send those photos to Pablo?”
Micah smirked. “I mean, you liked them, right? Seeing me in the tiny sheer jock?” I nodded. “Do you think Pablo would like them?” I paused, and had to nod. I was sure that he would like them. Micah continued, “That’s why.”
As angry as I was, I couldn’t be angry at Micah for very long. I was full of trepidation, though. What was going to happen between Micah and my ex?
Not much, it seemed. Micah reported back a couple of days later that Pablo visiting his cousins in Spain for the spring, and so he wasn’t around at all. I was relieved.
Later that same night, though, I walked into the bedroom thinking that I’d find Micah asleep. Instead, he was filming himself sliding a dildo in and out of his ass, saying, “God, Pablo, I wish it was you sliding in and out of me.”He saw me walk in, said, “Hey, Billy. Just a minute, let me finish this video for Pablo.” He kept sliding the dildo in and out, jacking off his cock at the same time. I watched him, as Micah moaned and as he kept sliding it in, he suddenly started going faster. “God, yes, yes!” Fuck! So far inside me! God, oh, Pablo!” I had stuck my hand inside my pants and was stroking, watching Micah pleasure himself. “Oh, oh! Pablo! Oh, oh! Ahhhh!” I saw Micah’s balls tighten, then saw his cock start pumping as he shot cum up, hitting his chest and then his nose. “Fuck! Pablo!” He came for what seemed like hours, but was probably just 30 or 45 seconds. He slowly slowed his stroking, pulled out the dildo, then looked at his phone. “Can’t wait till you’re here, Pablo. Then looked at me: “You like that, Billy?” He had angled himself so that he was on his knees, right in front of his phone and me. He turned off the filming, then turned to me and pulled down my pants, revealing my hard cock. “You like that I’m recording myself for Pablo?” He knelt in and started to suck on my cock.
“No,” I said. His mouth hit my cock and I jumped a bit. “Yes!” I moaned. “I mean, no. Fuck, Micah. I mean, I guess, I don’t know. Fuck!” He was sucking harder and harder. It took less than a minute for me to shoot down his throat. “Fuck! Micah!”
As I finished pumping, he pulled off my cock. “Yeah,” he said, swallowing and standing up. “I think the idea of Pablo sliding his cock in and out of my ass is fucking hot too.”
I was conflicted about being turned on by the idea of Pablo fucking Micah. But I was so turned on by it.
Micah sent the video of him fucking his own ass with a dildo to Pablo and me, so I got to see it. Pablo sent a reply back. It was an image of his own hard, massive cock in his underwear, along with the caption “nice. u make me hard.”
Then I got a video from Pablo alone. This time his cock was unsheathed from his underwear, and he was stroking it. He didn’t say anything in the video, which was just 2½ seconds of him running his hand up and down his cock, but the text message came through: “ur bf makes me so hard. can’t wait to fuck him.”
I started jacking off, watching the video. I went back to the video of Micah fucking himself, and came within one minute. I was ashamed, but so fucking turned on. What was happening to me?
I rewatched that video every day—sometimes twice, or three times a day—for the next couple weeks. Each time, I’d come as Micah moaned about Pablo. I would also regularly watch Pablo stroking his massive cock through his underwear. I got so fucking hard watching that.
I never quite caught Michal stroking himself off for a video again, but I could be sure that the sharing hadn’t stopped because I kept finding Micah coming out of the bedroom or bathroom with a hard but deflating cock, and his phone. He’d wink, and say that he was just getting ready or chatting with a friend. I would frown or try not to let him see my emotion at hearing that. It hurt to hear, but still, IO was also getting hard at the thought. Yesterday, he’d reached out and grabbed my cock. “Ah, I see you get hard at the thought of me chatting with people. DSO you like it when I’m friendly, Billy?” I shook my head, but he continued and insisted that my hardening cock demonstrated that I did, in fact, like that.
The next day, we were scheduled to go to a friend’s party. It was really the blowout party of the summer. It was at the house of this super wealthy guy—his dad had suddenly croaked a couple years back, and left all the money to his son (his wife predeceased him). He lived in what really had to be described as a huge glass mansion, with a double-Olympic–sized pool out in the back, and plenty of amazing views.
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