Disclaimer: This story is entirely a work of fiction and implies nothing about the true sexuality / personal lives of the Home and Away actors featured in it. Their respective characters are property of the Seven Network, Australia.
Dex Walker sat in the surf club eating a gelato as he observed just how little had changed in Summer Bay during his years away...except for the hotties that swarmed the place. One in particular caught his eye: Tank. Although Dex had made many of the usual teenage mistakes, he was at heart a goody two shoes...someone who personified the words "sweet", "cute", "loveable", "funny" and "adorable". Or just a geek. The complete opposite of Tank. But getting fucked by Heath Braxton of all people had done wonders for Dex's confidence...
As Dex stared lustfully at Tank he flashed back to where it all started with Heath...
Heath had spooked Dex during a scary movie; with Dex vowing payback. After several lame attempts Dex finally succeeded, catching Heath off-guard when he suddenly leaped out from beneath a pile of clothes on Heath's bed.
Heath was enraged...well more embarrassed...that a wimpy teen had made a fool of him: a tough bad boy stud afraid of nothing. Dex felt himself harden under the table as he continued his memory, recalling how an angry Heath had grabbed him by the scruff of the neck...he was sure to be a goner...but Heath wickedly got revenge as he tore Dex's tee shirt off him, for starters. Dex tried pathetically to fight back as Heath continued to roughly undress him; preparing to sodomise the brainiac with his 9" salami. Objection would have been futile, but as Heath force fed his fucker into Dex's anal lips, Dex wasn't so sure he wanted to anyway. Only when Heath was inserted in his insides did he realise just how much he wanted this.
"You think you're a smart little cookie, don't ya? Well I'm gonna teach you something new...a lesson you'll never forget, square! Heath roared as his rod roughed up his nerdy nuisance...
Dex was defined by his brains with Heath by his braun. The fact they were so opposite was magnetic and electrifyingly hot. Neither would have ever dreamed they'd crave each other so much. As Dex laid flat on his back; his skinny body bent in half as Heath pushed his legs back almost to the point of touching his face, he was pleased to let Heath have carnal knowledge of him...Heath was such a dope it was probably the only knowledge he had, period.
"Mmmmmmm....ohhhhhhhhhhhh....fuck I'm about to mess you up good...." Heath moaned as he pulled out of Dex's dungeon and began racing his rod to the finishing line.
"Oh yeah...bring it Braxton...smother me in your stud syrup..." Dex replied.
Dex remembered the way Heath's tanned and tattooed, hunky body heaved as his breath shortened...how his muscles contracted...and the orgasmic screams as he erupted over Dex's pale body. Dex felt as if he'd stepped into the prom scene from Carrie; but instead of having a bucket of blood poured over him it was Heath's hot lava. Concurrently, Heath had never experienced such intensity...straying away from his usual type had proven refreshingly hot.
They had to do this more often...but how? Heath wouldn't be caught dead suddenly buddying up with Dex. Then it suddenly hit him: Dex was going to tutor him to ensure he got his personal trainer qualification - that seemed like a reasonable cover story allowing them to converse.
Thanks to Dex, Heath got his qualification through lots of blood, sweat, tears...and of course lots of sex. But that's all it was. Dex was just Heath's dirty little dork...a plaything for pleasure. Heath maintained his dominance over Dex, only ever fucking his tight ass. He was oblivious to the fact Dex had a nice 8" cock...never sucking it...not even touching it...and definitely not letting Dex fuck him with it. Even after all the time they'd spent together, Heath hadn't developed even a twinge of niceness towards Dex...
Dex was rudely awakened from his daydream as he felt a blast in his face...unfortunately it was icy cold, not the hot kind he would have liked...
"Quit staring at me dork!" Tank yelled, having just thrown his slushie over Dex, Glee style.
"What the?! Why'd you do that? Was that really necessary?! Dex asked as he tried to wipe away the frozen drink.
"I can feel your eyes raping me across the room. And I'm not interested!! But you just won't take a hint!!"
"Wait, what? You've been talking to me?" Dex was so consumed by his flashback he hadn't heard Tank repeatedly telling him to get lost.
"Hello? Earth to loser nerd?"
"Yeah I'm listening now. Sorry, I was lost in space."
"No shit sherlock. Now listen here...and listen good...because I'm only gonna say this one more time: You're NOT. MY. TYPE!"
Tank suddenly realised his yelling had caused a scene, noticing the surf club on pause as everyone stared at him in disbelief - he'd overreacted big time. Amongst the starers he noticed Oscar sitting at a table, seemingly minding his own business.
"See that dork over there?" Tank said, sarcastically sweet to Dex. "Here's $10 to buy him a juice and leave me alone. You two are perfect for each other!" Tank threw the money at Dex and stormed off.
"He's just being his usual charming self. You don't have to buy me that juice." Oscar said politely as Dex approached him.
"It's ok. I want to."
"Thanks, that's very nice of you..."
"Dex."
"Oscar."
The boys smiled as they shook hands. Although Tank had just stereotyped them, something told them this was possibly the beginning of a beautiful friendship...