Note: This is the beginning of an erotic book. The finished book as well as other works may be found at www.conormonaghan.com. The author would love to hear your feedback at conor.monaghan.writing@gmail.com. Please consider donating to Nifty!
Disclaimer: This story contains sexual acts between young adult males and/or females. If you do not enjoy this type of material or if it is illegal in your country or place of residence, please stop reading immediately. This story is not an accurate depiction of reality, and any relations to real persons or acts are unintentional. This is fiction. It should not be reposted or reproduced without the writer's consent.
Admittedly, I was the one who persuaded him; though in my defense, it was a topic that we'd discussed many times before.
Sometimes we discussed it jokingly and with the faintest hint of accusation, as if each of us was daring the other to betray some sign that the playful exchanges were actually an admission of our truest sexual desires.
Sometimes we discussed it casually. One of us would be swiping through Twitter or TikTok and find the latest leaked nudes or a thirsty picture from a celebrity and send it to the other with caption: "Destroy me daddy."
And on occasion we would discuss it under bated breath, conjuring fantasies in whispered ad-libs as part of our foreplay (or even our hardcore sex), and the words would be joined by the sounds of our sweaty skin rubbing against each other, or the sounds of our sloppy kissing, or in the hardcore case, the sounds of lubricated asshole getting pounded by hard cock.
These whispered fantasies in the heat of sex were always incredibly filthy and graphic and detailed, and they always featured boys we knew in real life.
Chief among them was Jacob, my boyfriend's roommate who he had known his entire life. Notably, Jacob is straight, but that only makes us want him even more. Well, it makes me want him even more. Nick is wary of fantasizing about buttfucking his straight best friend.
Jacob is hot, too. He's a twink (like me and Nick, I guess). Blonde hair, blue eyes. A perfectly lean, muscular figure. And despite being straight, he's what you might call an "ally" I suppose, though he's perhaps a little bit too comfortable around gay guys. He has a wonderful habit of quietly sending dirty thirst trap messages to Nick at frequent intervals.
Nick always screenshots the messages and sends them to me. A personal favorite of mine was from a group chat of Nick's friends in which Jacob was casually complaining about how his dick always hits the water or the base of the toilet bowl when he sits on it. Subtle, Jacob. Subtle.
At any rate, there's no doubt that Jacob has a huge dick. Nick saw it two years ago for the first time, long before he and I met, at a party when they were freshman in college. Jacob, always the lightweight, drank way too much and went streaking around the party with another guy.
There's actually photographic evidence to document the event: one blurry image of Jacob's tight little white butt cheeks taken mid-run from across the room. But no pictures of his cock. So I have to rely on Nick's memory, and if that's reliable, his cock is way bigger than Nick's.
Jacob's only flaw, if you can call that, is that he's short, maybe 5'8'', but truthfully I've always found that to be a bit of a turn on in itself, because his waist is so slim and he has such a tiny little bubble butt that I imagine him being a bottom. Incidentally, that's exactly how Jacob has worked his way into my and Nick's fantasies: as an exclusive bottom. A tight little piece of straight ass getting turned out for the first time by his two gay friends: a newly made bitch for cock taking it from both ends. I have a thing for small, cocky, skinny guys with oversized cocks, just as I have a thing for big-dicked straight boys taking it up the butt, so Jacob just checks all of the boxes.
But I'm getting off topic here. This isn't about Jacob (right now, at least). This is about Nick and me and how we used to talk about disgusting group sex and fucking other guys.
And all of these moments were what led me to (mistakenly?) believe that Nick and I both longed for something more than sex with each other.
Somehow, months spent imagining pornographic scenes playing out between us and our friends seemed to leave out important details.
Like: Once you get a group of four guys who want to fuck the shit out of each other together, what comes next? Do you all just agree to meet up somewhere, and if so where? How do you decide who tops and who bottoms? Do you set up ground rules (No kissing?)? Do you drink and talk first? Or you just say fuck it all and meet up and head straight to the bedroom and fuck?
Fortunately, Mickey filled in the gaps for me and Nick. He selected the location (Nick's apartment); the time (Thursday night at "around" midnight); and the people (his boyfriend Bryson would be the fourth).
We had to devise a way to get Jacob out of his and Nick's apartment for the night (a shame, I know: I secretly hope that he walks in to find us buttfucking in the middle of the living room—and decides to join in).
The apartment is like any other college apartment, except it's positioned on the third (top) floor of the complex and features a surprisingly large balcony overlooking one of the busiest streets of the college campus.
I guess Mickey has a generous interpretation of the word "around" because he and Bryson didn't show up until after 2AM, both clearly wasted.
It felt like a power play.
Sure, Thursday night is the start of the weekend for college students, so midnight didn't seem completely unreasonable. And yet, something about it all did seem unreasonable. Nick and me were letting two barely legal, closeted high school (yes, they're still in high school) fuckboys dictate the terms of our gay buttfucking orgy at our (Nick's) college apartment in the middle of the night during the school week. And top it all off, they show up over two hours late with nothing more than an occasional "be there soon" message. And when they do show up, they're drunk and seemingly carefree, while I had spent the better part of the last week nervous about how all of this might play out.
It was a power play and a mind fuck, but it fucking turned me on.
So, they walked into the apartment sometime after 2AM. They were already drunk and judging by their bloodshot eyes, they must have smoked as well.
Mickey was already shirtless when he walked in and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants tapered heavily down his legs to cling to his thin ankles. His pants were lowered enough to show off the waistband of his Jockey underwear, a classic fuckboy symbol for members of our generation of "influencers."
I find myself wondering how this high school kid has the balls to walk around a college campus drunk and half-naked like this, but here he is.
Mickey has medium-length brown hair and brown eyes. He's extremely lean, and I mean lean in the "high school" sense, not in the "manly" sense. His waist size must be somewhere in the 24-26 range, and he has a perfectly smooth six pack for no other reason than that he doesn't have an ounce of body fat.
He's shaved a few vertical lines (or disconnects) through the edge of his right eyebrow, another style I've noticed boys pick up from a certain influencer.
But his best feature: his lips. They're pink and smooth and wide (he has a big mouth), and they always glisten in the light. He also has a habit of running his tongue along them suggestively.
Bryson shares Mickey's attitude, but he's a bit more muscular. I'd guess that he weighs about 150 pounds and is several inches taller than Mickey (perhaps 6' to Mickey's 5'9''). He has blonde hair and brown eyes.
He walked in wearing black athletic shorts and a t-shirt. As Mickey, carefree.
They were laughing when they walked in the door, in the middle of conversation. They completely ignored Nick and me for several moments as they continued to joke and took stock of the living room and kitchen they were now standing in. Just as I began to worry that an awkwardness was beginning to settle in—what do we do next?—Mickey and Bryson looked at each other and shared a devious smile, and then these two high school fuckboys jumped on the two of us, Mickey on Nick, and Bryson on me.
From there, things escalated quickly and beyond our control. Within seconds, I had Bryson's tongue snaking its way deep into my mouth, and even though I tried to struggle with him for dominance, he quickly won and took ownership of the inside of my mouth; and I imagine the same for Nick.
Before I knew it, both Nick and me had been led, eyes closed and mouths full of twink tongue, out onto the balcony where we were now kissing in pairs in plain view of the drunk passerby on the street below.
My dick is rock hard as I feel Bryson's right hand wrap around my neck and gently apply pressure as we kiss, and even though he's hot, I'm a bit jealous of the fact that Mickey went straight for Nick because deep down I suspect that Nick is the only reason that Mickey (and Bryson) are here tonight. Though whether I'm jealous because Mickey is kissing my boyfriend or because my boyfriend is kissing Mickey, I don't want to say. Probably both.
As if to confirm my worst fears, after a few moments, Bryson pushes me down onto one of the seats on the balcony, gives me one last kiss, and then leaves me and turns to Mickey and Nick, who are still kissing.
He walks up behind Nick and his hands join Mickey's around Nick's waist and he leans in and starts to kiss Nick's neck. Gently, at first, peppering it with short, delicate kisses. But then they become longer, and finally he stops with the kisses and starts to suck on Nick's neck, pulling away only after a dozen seconds, leaving a dark red mark which will last for days.
The first of many.
Not to be outdone, Mickey's kisses grow progressively sloppier. It almost looks like he's fucking Nick's mouth from my angle, the way his tongue withdraws almost completely between kisses, leaving Nick's mouth wide open and waiting to receive his tongue again, before pushing in even deeper than before. I can hear the sounds of them swapping spit even over the drunken sounds of the college students below. And with each kiss, spit accumulates on their lips and then on the periphery of their mouths, until it forms glistening strands which fall from Nick's chin.
In the midst of it all, Mickey begins to unbutton Nick's shirt. Bryson's hands, which have spent this entire time wrapped around Nick's waist, start to rub Nick's bulge through his shorts. Finally, when Mickey has Nick's shirt nearly unbuttoned, Bryson unbuttons Nick's shorts.
At the same time, they let go and both shirt and shorts fall to the ground.
Suddenly, Nick, my boyfriend, is standing there in nothing but his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs while two high school kids dominate his body. His lower lip is already bruised and swollen, but that doesn't stop Mickey, who's still nibbling on it aggressively. His neck is marked with hickeys, and Bryson is busy adding yet another one. The front of his underwear are bulging now; he clearly has a boner. And I can hear soft moans coming from his mouth.
As if to deny his dick any relief, Mickey's and Bryson's hands have suddenly moved away from his crotch and waist and up towards his neck.
Bryson wraps a hand around his neck and squeezes, and Mickey grabs him by the back of the hair. They maneuver Nick closer to the edge of the balcony, closer to the wandering eyes of anyone below.
This whole time, I'm sitting just a few feet away watching. A piece of me is nauseous, as I see all of my worst fears coming to pass—Mickey was never interested in me; he's using me to get into Nick's pants. Another piece of me is screaming: Why the fuck don't you get off of your ass and go join in? Go show these assholes how to please your boyfriend. Or if you're too much of a bitch, then get on your knees and suck some big twink cock.
But the rest of me knows that I won't. That instead I'll sit right here and watch as these two kids lay claim to my boyfriend's body. That even though I'm sick to my stomach thinking about how much pleasure Nick must be in right now, and how I have nothing to do with it, and how much more there is still to come tonight, that this is exactly what I wanted to happen.
My dick is hard and leaking in my underwear, but I won't let myself touch it.
Instead, I just sit and watch as Mickey's and Bryson's slender fingers find their way into the elastic waistband of Nick's Calvin Kleins and, at the exact same moment, pull his underwear down to the ground.
I wonder if my eight-month long relationship with my boyfriend is dissolving before my eyes, or if it's simply changing. I should be angry to see this unfold, because these two kids have manipulated me to get into my boyfriend's pants, and they've stripped Nick in front of me and have him naked and exposed and standing on the edge of the balcony for anyone to see.
But all I can think about is how I want to more.
Author's Note: I'm a writer of celebrity fanfiction and original erotica. This is the first chapter of an erotic book called "More." If you would like to read more of this story or my other works before they're posted on Nifty, please visit www.conormonaghan.com