This story contains sex between consenting males. If you're underage, or if this sort of material is illegal where you live, then turn back now! This story is a work of FICTION. While the characters exist, this FICTITIOUS work is in not meant to imply anything about the actual sexual orientation of the characters. The members of Dream Street and those people in their immediate universe are, unless we are told otherwise, real-life heterosexuals.
My Macho Valentine by Tony Idolatry
Chris Trousdale looked into his bedroom mirror and sighed. He used his last bit of styling gel to perfectly straighten his eye-catching tall black hair with lighter brown streaks, the hair he loved so much. This time, though, his heart just wasn't in it. It was a gray, windy, rainy early Valentine's Day evening in Manhattan, and Chris didn't have a special boy in his life. It wasn't that he couldn't find another gay guy to steam up the sheets with. Plenty of them openly chased after Chris and the rest of his Dream Street bandmates. If that wasn't enough, his bandmates were all gay, too. (Everyone thinks it's a cliche, but truly, what can you expect from guys who grow up starring in Broadway musicals?)
And they all lived in the same bitchin' house! You'd think, with that much tasty teenage flesh in one building, it'd be an x-rated, all-male version of "Friends" or something, but it wasn't. The boys had decided from the very beginning not to fool around with each other, for the sake of keeping the band free from inter-couple squabbles. Some of them found outside boyfriends pretty quickly, but Chris was still waiting for the right one to come along. He believed deeply in the need for a meaningful relationship, but lately his horniness had begun to scream for satisfaction. Realizing how loveless - and sexless - he was on Valentine's Day sure didn't help.
He reached for a simple gold necklace and stared into his own sad brown eyes while he put it on. Fashion-wise, he was both outrageous and scrumptious, dressed in a red knit sweater, velvety brown slacks that clung to his dancer's legs, and funky neon hi-tops that added bounce to his step. He and his bandmate, Jesse McCartney, another heartthrob and hopelessly single gay boy, planned to spend the night at a Times Square movie theater, catching a preview of the new Britney Spears chick flick. He and Jesse had been best friends forever, and each of them would've had to be dead not to notice how hot the other one was, but neither of them ever made a move towards sex. Chris always thought it would ruin the friendship. He and Jesse were different in a lot of ways. Chris thought that was alright for a friend, but society seemed to tell him that he should want a boy similar to himself, a soul mate, for a lover. He guessed Jesse felt the same way.
Chris was about to get up and go downstairs to make sure Jesse was ready when his bedroom door suddenly opened behind him, and his bandmate Greg Raposo walked in.
"Hey True," he muttered, calling Chris by a nickname, before closing the door behind him and laying on his back on Chris' bed. Greg brought his hands up behind his head and sighed.
Chris recognized the sounds of sorrow and was concerned, but he couldn't help looking Greg up and down first. Greg was only older than Chris by a month, but puberty and a little time in the gym had given him a taller, ripped body to drool over. Chris looked up from between Greg's legs, which were covered in gray PVC pants dotted with sparkles, a pair Greg often wore on stage. Chris was sure Greg didn't even realize it, but the outline of his thick Italian sausage was clearly visible beneath the fabric. Chris felt his own erection stirring as his eyes ran up to Greg's tank top. The shirt nestled in the crevasses of Greg's six-pack abs. Further up, his golden, curvy biceps popped up and down as Greg flexed his arms.
"You gonna sit there and stare like a retard?" Greg suddenly asked.
"No," Chris said, slowly catching himself. "What's up? Why aren't you dressed up for dinner with Mark? In a tux or something?"
Greg tilted his head up and threw his hands out, beckoning Chris to take a wild guess.
"You ended it with him?"
"HE did!" Greg sat up, shaking his head in violent disbelief. "Can you fucking believe it?"
"I really can't."
"I know! And we had only been together a couple of weeks but I thought we clicked really great. Didn't it look that way?"
Chris nodded, still a little distracted by the bulge.
"And you're REALLY not gonna believe this," Greg said. "His reason. Are you ready for this? Are you really ready for this bullcrap? I'm not macho enough for him. Heh!"
"Heh!" Chris repeated Greg's flabbergasted laugh.
"I mean, I bench press. I do curl after curl. I make the punching bag my bitch. There's a NordicTrack in my bathroom, for Christ's sake!"
"I know!"
"Let me tell you something, True. I walk into a health club shower and a least half a dozen guys drop their soap."
"I know I would."
"Huh?"
"Well.....What I meant is that....."
"Yeah, uh-huh. Tell me what you meant."
Chris saw an opportunity. Greg was always the band member he was most attracted to. To hell with the agreement. To hell with society. It was Valentine's Day and he was lonely.
"You know what I mean, Greg," he said, leaning forward in his chair but still not daring to reach out and touch him. "You'd definitely be macho enough for me."
"You mean it?"
Chris leaned back again, this time to show Greg how excited his own pole was.
"Ohhhh baby," Greg groaned. He moved into a kneel and ran a hand across his hard chest and across his tingling crotch. "I never thought you'd let me give it to you. I thought you were on like a no-dick diet or something."
Chris laughed and licked his lips, quickly reaching to unzip Greg's fly. "Nope. My fast's over, foolish boy." He parted the fly and combed his hands over Greg's boxers, looking for the pesky second fly. Greg's eyes rolled back as he shuddered from the sensation of Chris' open palms against his trapped mast. The bed creaked, finally getting its first workout. When Chris finally fished Greg's big bone out into the daylight, his own eyes nearly popped out. It was a SOLID eight inches, with a shaft as thick as a golf ball and a gigantic tip that could rival the size of a lemon. Chris was under a spell, thrilled that he would lose his virginity to this freakish sucker. He ran his hands all over the satiny smooth shaft, getting goosebumps from how warm it felt against his own cool skin. A pearly dose of pre-cum slithered from Greg's slit and slowly began dangling off the head.
"Oh yeah, don't let that juice go to waste, man," Greg begged. "Lap it up with that hot mouth."
Chris looked up at Greg one last time. He wasn't sure. He thought he might be dreaming. But Greg nodded and groaned. Chris pulled his hands back and extended his tongue right underneath the falling drop of clear, gooey man fluid. It landed in a spiral across his tongue, Chris laughing devilishly the whole time. He'd always wanted to be a seductive blowjob artist, and he was off to a good start, which got even better when he hungrily worked his lips around Greg's king-sized glans. The pre-cum slicked up Chris' tongue enough for Greg to work the tip, plus another two inches, deep in towards the back of Chris' throat.
"Uhhhhhhhhh True, you're amazing for a girly boy," Greg sputtered. "More, honey. Take more of my beef. Yeah." Greg started to gently buck and thrust. "Fit it all in your pretty mouth. Get it all wet."
"Mmmmmmm hmmmmmmmm...."
Drool dripped onto Chris' sweater as he swallowed as much of Greg's monster dick as he could. It tasted delicious, tangy, smoky and warm. His lips smacked from the suction as Greg pumped in and out and Chris inched ever so slowly further down the glistening shaft. Chris was a pro at breathing through his nose. He put that gift to good work, hardly ever bobbing up for air. Sometimes he had a large enough reserve oxygen supply to press his nostrils against the top of the schlong, losing himself in the scent of a teenaged man.
"That's it. Ahhh fuck, you like it, don't you? You like getting a Valentine candy-gram from my cock. Choke on it if it makes you happy, True."
Greg looked down at the cutie blowing on his cream-filled chocolate and wondered why he hadn't lost his load yet. This would be like a body worship overload for any guy, but then again, Greg reminded himself, he was not any guy. He stretched his shirt away from his chest and spit a wad of saliva down to one of his nipples. He spread some to the other nipple and went to work with his strong hands, caressing himself until his nipples were rock solid. He looked down at Chris, who looked up and smiled with a full mouth. It hit Greg: Chris didn't even use his hands while blowing him. Fucking incredible.
Greg stopped bucking for a second to do some unbuckling. Chris pulled off the rigid wand and swatted his tongue at the black belt coming undone above his head. Greg pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees with one quick motion, then cradled Chris' head, moving the boy's wide open mouth right back over his prick. The suck job began again.
"Smack my ass," Greg commanded. "Feel how hard my glutes are." Chris did as he was told, never raising his lips off Greg's tip. He came down hard with a few open-palmed slaps against Greg's buns. Wow, Chris thought. It was true. He could feel the taut glutes twitching against his hand. He greedily swallowed more shaft and kept massaging Greg's lively behind.
"Now stick a finger in my hole," Greg ordered.
Chris felt so nasty, and he was with a nasty boy. He enjoyed giving him what he wanted. He pulled at one of Greg's butt cheeks with one hand and stuck his middle finger up at Greg with the other. The finger swooped in like a gunshot. Before Greg knew it, he was breathless, almost three inches of finger filling up his tushy.
"Oooooh baby, I like you. You fucking take me hard, Chris. Take me at both ends." Chris used his free hand to land more glancing spanks on Greg's happy butt, and Greg used his animal instincts to absolutely stuff Chris' throat with cockmeat. Chris was in mid-smack when the door opened.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh MYYYYY......"
Chris quickly spit Greg out. If he let his best friend get to "God" the whole neighborhood would come running.
"Jesse, shut up and close the door behind you," Chris said.
Jesse stood silently stunned. Part one accomplished, but the door was still open.
"PLEASE," Chris begged. "Come on. Matt might walk by."
Jesse, as if numb from the waist down, pivoted in place to quickly slam the door. He looked back at the frenzied lovers. Greg's manhood dangled in place, wet and throbbing, as if pleading for Chris to keep going. The two stared back at Jesse. The short kid's blond mop seemed to stand on end, his twinkly blue eyes wide with shock. He was all dressed for a quiet night at the movies - black sweater, jeans, sneakers. Chris saw the front of the jeans expand and realized that Jesse was far from paralyzed in his delicate area.
"What---?" Jesse began, only to be cut off.
"Wait a minute, dude," Greg said. "Before you say anything, just tell me, honestly, what's the first thing you want to do right now?"
"Scream and tell Frankie and Matt and call some other people and then scream some more," Jesse blurted out.
Greg shook his head. "Nahhhhh," he said. "You can do that later. What would you want to do even before that? Deep down inside?" Greg didn't take his eyes off Jesse's, but he did slap his dick across Chris' cheek a couple of times, trying to lead Jesse to the right answer. Chris couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected contact.
All of a sudden, Jesse, nervously gasping for air, pointed towards Chris, whose face quickly turned serious.
"Pull down his pants," Jesse finally answered Greg. Silence cut through the room for a moment. Then Greg smiled one of those ear-to-ear smiles you don't usually see, except on eight-year-olds who say "gnarly" or "radical." Chris grinned excitedly, too, then Jesse. The orgy was on.
Three minutes later they were all completely naked and lying across the bed. Jesse's pale skin was flushed with exertion as he carefully sucked Chris' sweet six inch stick. Jesse fisted his own impressive seven inches while, with the other hand, he played with Chris' slick, hairless balls. He had a hard time fitting a lot of dick into his small mouth, but Jesse made up for it by clamping down hard with his lips and using his tongue beautifully, sucking and tickling the tip until Chris moaned for mercy. Of course, the moan rang out from a full throat. Chris was lying on his back, his head up on the pillow, while Greg sat down just above and almost on top of his head. Greg splayed his legs, one on each side of Chris, and fed Chris some upside-down cock cake. Chris loved it. Greg's huge balls were right over his nose, and sometimes against his tongue, if that's what he wanted. He sucked on each of the nuts like they were ripe peaches, before inching his mouth down to swallow the massive dong. Jesse liked to look up and actually see Chris' throat contract and expand around Greg's salami. Not much more than deep, ecstatic groans and smacking lips heavy with boy oil broke the silence. Everyone was enjoying the fine taste of Dream Meat to say too much.
Not long after, though, Chris gurgled "Fuck me," and everything changed again. Greg stood at the foot of the bed while Chris kneeled facing away from him. Greg smiled. Chris' tiny bubble butt was practically made for getting screwed doggy-style. Meanwhile, up near the pillow, Jesse kneeled in front of his best friend's face, eager to get the blowjob he'd always wanted but never dared to ask for.
"I love you, Jess," Chris said, looking up at his younger friend.
Jesse couldn't have been happier. "Love you too, Chris."
"Hey," Greg shouted, lining up his stony anal missile. "I don't get any love?"
"You know you do, big man," Chris said back with a wink. "We'll love you all night long, and maybe longer if we never find our clothes again."
Greg laughed, spread Chris' cheeks wide, and pressed in.
"OH JESUS CHRIST!" Chris had played with his ass before, but this was no child's toy popping along towards his prostate. This was an honest-to-God fuck stick. His moans of slight pain, then overwhelming pleasure, were muffled against Jesse's dick. Jesse nearly fainted away from the feeling of lips on his virginal penis. He ran his hands across Chris' tan, sweaty back and shoulders, holding him tight as Greg entered him further, inch by unbelievably thick inch.
"Wow," Greg said weakly, almost done in by Chris' sexual energy. He had half of his cock inside Chris now, thrusting deep in a burning hot tightness. "Nobody's ever taken this much," Greg said. Chris just smiled and kept on sucking Jesse. "Do you think you can take more?" Chris responded by moving his ass up and down.
"Ahhhhh I think that's a yes," Jesse chuckled.
Chris couldn't help laughing, too. He looked up happily at Jesse and began to devour the boy's small sack. Greg got another two inches into Chris and started moving inside of him harder and faster. Chris strained to pack as much prick as he could. Whenever their balls smacked together, Chris knew the rhythm was right. And whenever Greg struck that magical gland inside of him, Chris would cry out in joy. He thought his orgasm would come along and destroy him at any second, but it was Greg who was riding the fastest train to paradise.
"I'm gonna cum, True! Oh my God, I'm gonna cum up your beautiful ass!" Chris held still as Greg's last violent pumps drained six searing shots of semen deep inside his gut. Greg stayed all the way in after his load was spent, moving his hips in circles and making both he and Chris shake from the ripples of pleasure. Beads of sweat ran down the shaking legs of the self-proclaimed adonis. He had conquered, and been conquered, by a "pretty boy."
Jesse smiled and breathed deep as Chris returned his attention to blowing him, but as he delicately pulled out of Chris' flooded canal, Greg had other ideas.
"Oh yeah, oh you are two gorgeous boys," Greg said to his bedmate bandmates. He tapped Chris on the shoulder. "Come on, get up," he said. Chris looked puzzled, but Greg made things clear, pushing the couple aside to lay on the bed. Chris and Jesse both kneeled over him.
"Jerk off on my face," he said with a lusty look in his eyes. "All over me. It'll be so perfect."
Chris was more than happy to agree, and Jesse didn't care, either, so long as he could hold Chris. And that's just what they did, embracing each other with one arm, and wanking themselves for all they were worth with the other. Chris saw Jesse's eyes glaze over first, and it made his do the same. They kissed each other as they came. Chris' aching cock unleashed eight watery spurts onto Greg's cheeks, mouth and chin, while Jesse's smaller but thicker sperm deposit dribbled across Greg's forehead. The two best friends took a long time to unlock their lips, and when they did, Chris laughed at the sight of Greg's drenched, fully content face.
"Gotta hand it to you, Greg," he said. "Nothing says 'macho' like a face full of cum."
"Just for that," Greg shot back with a grin, "you two get to lick it off."
Chris and Jesse leaned over to lap up their delicious milk, and lap at each other, while outside the less fortunate drank only rainwater and lonely tears.
THE END
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