Sophomore Year

Sophomore Year 46

An after-dinner wrestling show on TV prompts a hands-on lesson on the importance of athletic support. An unexpected interruption to his laundry folding leads Hank to wind up his Friday as he never imagined.

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Chapter 46

When the stink had cleared, Zack with his head still in my lap hummed "Mmm, somethin' smells nice, kinda like Jack."

"Now, why do you think that is?" his dad asked. When Zack reacted with a confused look, Buck added, "See if you can figure out where that good smell is comin' from."

Curious, Zack rolled over to face me, his nose just inches from my crotch. He started sniffing and at one point poked his nose into my balls. I almost jumped, but then remembered that this sort of close contact was not so unusual among the men of this house.

"Gettin' warm there, Bucko." Buck encouraged, "Now, take a nice deep whiff and see whatcha think."

`Like father, like son.' I mused, remembering that just the night before Buck had thrust his nose into my nuts in search of a scent. The move had shocked me at first, but in doing so, Buck had been able to distinguish the presence of cum from more than just one source.

That was how we determined that behind my back both Mr. Akins and the Captain had shot their loads in my briefs, loads which I had later slathered all over my dick and balls and then stroked to unimaginable effect. And that was the scent that now infused these briefs as well.

"Reminds me of Jack." Zack purred as he wiped his nose back and forth across my nut sack taking in the aroma. I truly appreciated the level of trust and acceptance that this demonstrated, but I was not used to such intimate contact and could tell the stimulation was starting to get me hard.

Worried that I might come across as some kind of weirdo, I looked over at Buck with what I'm sure was an expression of alarm. Always quick to the rescue, Buck asked his son, "Why doncha see if it's comin' from anywhere else?"

Pausing the testicular stimulation for a moment, Zack leaned back to look up at me. A few moments later he exclaimed, "Hey, that's dad's shirt!"

"Yeah," affirmed Buck, "notice anything different about it? "

Zack studied the shirt for another moment and then his eyes grew big as saucers. "Is that dried up daddy cream? Dad, did you sperm all over your shirt and then let Hank wear it?"

"Well, sumpin' like that." Buck chuckled.

Zack's excitement grew. "Did you shoot all that cream at once, Dad?"

"Take a mighty set of nuts to pump out a load like that, huh?" Buck winked at me as he said it.

Fascinated Zack asked, "Was that like for a prize or a present or somethin'?"

"Ha-Ha!" laughed Buck, "That would make quite a present, now, wouldn't it? Think you'd like one of those?"

"Yeah, of course! Will you do one for me?" Zack enthused, "That would be so cool!"

"Well, let's see how you behave this weekend," and Buck winked at me, "and we'll maybe look into that."

At that point, the commercial ended and another match started. Zack rolled back over to face the TV; the side of his face resting squarely on my thigh, just grazing my crotch. Once again, I was touched by the level of trust this demonstrated, even if it distracted me a bit from focusing on the match.

Glancing over at us, Buck suggested, "Why doncha slide back a little? Ya both prolly be more comfortable."

Zack lifted his head so I could slouch down a bit, which provided more lap space for him. When he laid his head back down, it rested right on my dick. I didn't want to make a scene that might disrupt our cozy evening so I tried to act like nothing was unusual. I took several slow breaths and tried to focus on the program.

As we sat in the flickering light of the TV like almost every other household in America that night, I had to admit that the more I got used to it, the close contact felt pretty nice. However, while I appreciated the intimacy, I was still a little nervous about getting hard. I was already starting to drip.

Both Buck and Zack seemed oblivious. I noticed Buck, engrossed in the program, would absent-mindedly stroke his fingers along Zack's leg and up across his exposed butt cheeks. Watching that made my own butt cheeks tingle.

Trying to distract myself from the mounting buzz in my balls, I took advantage of the next commercial break to ask Buck what he needed me to do for his `buddies' workout session the following morning. We had not yet discussed my upcoming gym assistant duties in any detail.

"Oh, glad you brought that up," Buck straightened a bit and set his beer on the coffee table. "As it turns out, Zack's gonna start swim practice tomorrow at the Y and I'll need ya to drive him and his friend Teddy."

"Aye aye, sir." I said, relieved. "Glad to do it." I was relieved because I didn't feel totally at ease with this vague new role with his gym group that awaited me at some point.

"Thanks. And Zack can direct ya to his friend's house. But come down to meet the guys before ya go." Buck added, "I'd like em to see ya at least. And wear your new lace-ups. Get em excited `boutcha joinin' us next week."

While I really liked modeling my new cut-off football pants for myself in the mirror, the idea of wearing something so revealing in front of a group of men I'd never met made me feel nervous. I suppose I was a little excited, too, but mostly nervous.

I thought Zack had been too absorbed in the wrestling to follow our conversation, but he piped up. "Hey, Dad, it's still ok for Teddy to come over after practice and spend the night, right?" The vibration of his voice and warmth of his breath tickled my dick and balls pushing out another drop of sweet.

"Yep," Buck assured. "Y'know, his mom called the other day. I guess his dad's been away for a while? She asked if I'd mind givin' him the talk about the birds and the bees. I told her sure, I could get out the slides we used with you. Remember those?"

"Oh, yeah!" Zack enthused, "I like those slides. They're fun. Hey, Dad, when I was tellin' him about our house, he got real excited. Y'know, he's never even worn a jockstrap before? An' he's real nervous about changin' in front of the other guys on the team."

"Well, can't really blame im with no dad around." Buck offered. Even though he meant it for this friend of Zack's, it felt like Buck was affirming my own experience. "I bet there's lots we can show im and teach `im a thing or two."

"Thanks, Dad. You're the best." Zack said through a yawn, already fading. Buck gently massaged his son's feet and nodding to his head resting in my lap smiled warmly. "'Bet that's his new favorite pillow," he whispered though by then I thought Zack had fallen asleep. "He's sure to have sweet dreams tonight," he added with a wink.

The final bout began, a tag team match featuring two well-known veterans of the ring each paired with a younger newcomer. Each team wore matching trunks, and I couldn't help but notice the sporty cut and snug fit.

I really liked the style and for a moment fantasized about Buck and me in matching trunks or even singlets. As soon as I thought it, I was embarrassed, afraid that Buck might ridicule such a childish idea.

But Buck was evidently paying close attention to their trunks as well and launched into a detailed analysis of the shape, volume and contour of the bulges of each and the type and quality of support likely responsible.

This was back before professional wrestling became a glitzy spectacle of laser lights and smoke machines managed by corporate behemoths; before those stiff satiny trunks that flatten a guy in front and sanitize the visuals for a mass audience by erasing the obvious indicators of the male anatomy.

These trunks were of some stretchy knit fabric that conformed more pliantly to the male shape and did not stifle the shifting of the contents. At certain moments I could actually tell what time it was (as Buck put it) on a particular wrestler's crotch.

Both of the veterans Buck deemed above average in the quality of support their bulges indicated, while the younger grapplers he derided for `sloppy packaging,' which made me chuckle a bit to myself.

"What the hell these senior guys doin' if not teachin' the next generation how to secure their balls? The way that one young guy's got his meat sittin', he looks like a dang girl. I guarantee you, with the right jock and pulling it all up front, he'd look twice the man."

I was struck silent, fascinated by his commentary, yes, but at a loss for how to respond. I'd always been a bit of nerd and liked getting into the minute details of a topic. So, I was happy to have someone like Buck with his expertise to guide me into this aspect of manhood.

Buck elbowed me and asked, "Am I right?" I said that I had to admit that I really didn't know much about it but liked listening to him.

Buck paused and looked at me, his gaze clearing as though suddenly realizing who he was talking to. Then he broke into a smile and said, "Of course you're learnin'. No sweat. We'll set you straight. As long as you're willin' to learn, we'll make an expert out of ya."

Buck gently lifted Zack's feet off his lap and stood up. He walked over to stand beside the TV and started pointing out and commenting on the shape and movement of each wrestler's bulge. I did my best to follow along, but the action on the screen was nonstop, and I'm sure I looked a bit lost and confused.

Showing the patience of a good teacher, Buck walked around the coffee table and stood close, between me and the television set. He lifted one leg and set that foot on the other side of me, splaying his crotch right in front of my face.

"Now, the reason I say briefs are not enough support for sports is the movement they allow." He pinched the front waistband and tugged upwards several times, setting the contents jiggling. "Ya see that?" he asked, "Ya see how I'm bouncin' around in there?"

"Uh...yessir, I guess so." I was flummoxed. Zack's head was still resting in my lap and as I leaned forward to pay attention to Buck's lesson, my belly pressed his face more firmly into my crotch squeezing out another drop of precum.

It could have seemed like an act of aggression, Buck pushing his privates in my face, but I was very familiar with bullying and that was not at all the sense I got. Buck was a generous teacher and free with this body. Still, I'm sure I looked a bit lost.

"Go ahead," he insisted, "point with your finger where you're seein' movement."

Bashful but determined, I tentatively raised my finger and pointed to one of the jiggling parts. "Uh..here?"

"That's right!" Buck encouraged, "And what do you think that is you're seein' bounce there?"

"Uh...one of your balls, uh, I mean, testicles, Sir?"

"Real good, Son!" Buck enthused, "And don't be afraid to say `balls;' that's what they are." Nerd that I was, I was starting to feel proud of my progress. He repeated the test several times more." It was almost always one of his balls that I noticed bouncing.

The next time he jiggled his package, I pointed somewhere between the head of his dick and the ball it was lying over. One thing Buck did not like was imprecision. "Touch it. Show me what you're pointin' at."

My finger first made contact with the tip of his dick and then slid down to his nut. I thought I'd made a mistake, but Buck approved. "That's right, we got lotsa things goin' on, don't we?" Buck spread his legs a bit further and leaned over to tap the bottom of his ball sack a few times, setting the entire contents to jiggling.

"See how we got the whole bag o' goods shakin' an' quakin'?" I nodded my head, fascinated by this lesson. "So, we know there's no way this is enough support for most sports, right?" I nodded again.

"Go ahead," Buck urged, "bounce em with your own hand and see." Then he laughed, "just don't rack my nuts, ok? They still got some life in em. At least I hope, ha-ha."

Once again, I found myself in what seemed like a surreal movie or something. As if in a trance, I lifted my hand and very gently tapped the bottom of his ball sack, perhaps giving it more like a firm touch. The soft cotton felt like a warm caress on my fingertips.

"Ok," Buck laughed, "that's maybe too gentle. That's what the boys to when they're tryin' to get their way with Dad. But it's not gonna demonstrate tonight's lesson. Give it a little more oomph."

This time I tapped a little more vigorously, at least enough to set things in motion. It was a warm night, so his balls were hanging low and loose. The initial contact with his scrotum made was soft, offering little resistance. As my fingers moved upward, they met the firmer texture of his actual testes inside.

The thought hit me that I had just touched what might be considered the very center of this man who had so effortlessly turned my entire world inside out. Well, maybe not inside out, but had busted open windows and doors. I was totally absorbed in this stage of the lesson.

"Ok, we'll do some more of these over the comin' weeks and I guarantee we're gonna see results." To my disappointment, Buck stood up straight and adjusted his briefs.

The show ended about then. Buck asked me if I wanted to keep watching or turn it off. Since the next day would start early, I was ready to hit the rack and said as much. Buck nodded in agreement and went to pick up Zack.

Placing one arm under Zack's knees and the other under his shoulders, Buck went to lift him. Then to my astonishment, instead of lifting straight up, Buck gently slid him sideways, his hand rubbing over my balls.

"Did he drool on ya? He does that sometimes." He repeated the movement rubbing the back of his hand around my crotch damp with the leaking precum. "Hmm," he added, "feels drier that I expected, to tell the truth."

He winked again as he lifted Zack up with ease and started walking to the stairs. He paused and turned to add, "Feel free to stay up and watch somethin' else if ya want." He nodded towards the shelf of videotapes.

"We got some pretty decent wrestling bouts, mostly amateur stuff but pretty good and you'll see some outstandin' trunks. And there's some muscle flexin' videos that are kinda fun, and with both of those you can start analyzin' the support each guy's usin'."

"We also got some nice massage demos we filmed with Jack and some of the buddies, but you won't find much support in those!" and he laughed.

"Wow, thanks..." I paused, trying to take it in. All the videos sounded interesting to me, but I was starting to feel tired.

"Also got some decent porn stashed in my room you can borrow," Buck stage whispered, "just don't let it fall into the wrong hands." He winked once more with a quick glance to his sleeping son. I almost choked I was so caught off guard by his offer.

"Only, make sure to put a sheet down first. I mean, we already know what kinda loads spurt outa that cum cannon of yours!" he laughed.

I sort of laughed too but was also so embarrassed by his words that I just shook my head `no' and said, "Thanks, think I'll take a rain check if that's ok."

I followed him upstairs where he carried Zack to the boy's bedroom while I stopped at the laundry closet. The load of clothes in the dryer was now dry so I took them out and moved the next load from the washer to replace them.

Meanwhile Buck came back out to the hallway from Zack's room carrying a dark T-shirt. He reached over me to grab the pair of scissors he'd left on the shelf. "Gotta an idea here..." and he laid the shirt down on the floor and started cutting off the sleeves and a few inches from the waist. It looked like an old worn T-shirt, so cutting it did not strike me as particularly wasteful.

"He's such a sweet boy," Buck muttered as he carefully put scissors to shirt, "and he's been really good today, I'd like to make him a little prize, like he said."

I nodded in agreement as I pulled the dry clothes off the dryer. Buck picked up the newly trimmed shirt to admire his work. "Now, let's see if we can't add a little icing on the cake," he smirked as he headed to his room, and I headed to mine to do some folding.

I dumped the load of laundry on to my bed and got to work. I knew I could just leave it in the `clean' basket, but I thought it would be a small way to express my gratitude for this unforgettable week in my new home.

Also, after tonight's `lesson,' I could not get the look and feel of Buck's briefs out of my mind. I supposed I had not wanted the lesson to come to an end, so the idea of handling Buck's T-shirts and socks and briefs appealed to me.

I couldn't remember feeling so good in a long time and softly hummed the tune of "Sabor a Mí" while I separated the laundry to begin folding. I decided to start with the socks, a mix of crews and tube socks. I thought I'd next fold the T-shirts and leave the briefs for last.

While I folded, the sound of Buck huffing and puffing floated across the hall. It sounded like maybe he was trying to move a piece of furniture of something. I wondered if he could use some help but then thought he would surely holler if he wanted any.

Like at Mel's a few days ago, I heard Buck grunt a few times, as though he'd finally got something where he wanted and then could hear his heavy breathing. It was such an intimate arrangement upstairs; without doors, I could hear a lot going on in the other rooms very clearly.

I had finished up the socks and the T-shirts and picked up a pair of Buck's briefs. They were Hanes, the same brand he'd been wearing during our `lesson.' Remembering the feel of those I touched earlier, I pressed them to my face. They smelled fresh and clean and perhaps it was wishful thinking, but I was pretty sure I could also detect a very faint scent of Buck.

I then heard his footsteps approaching and quickly went back to folding. I figured he was maybe stopping by to say good night or to finally ask me for help or an opinion on some new configuration of things in his room.

I dropped the briefs in shock when Buck appeared in my doorway, stark naked and holding the newly cut T-shirt in his left hand. I was especially stunned by the sight of his dick, engorged and shiny wet, swinging heavily in full view. A string of cum stretched from its tip to the T-shirt, which I now saw was splattered in fresh `daddy cream,' as he sometimes called his seed.

Buck did not betray the slightest sign of embarrassment or shyness as he walked in, and I couldn't help but stare at he approached. "Decided to follow your good example," he joked as he laid the shirt out on my bed.

"Oops," Buck said noticing the rope of cum still linking him to the shirt, "forgot to get that last little bit..." He then wiped a glob off the shiny tip with his finger. Holding it up between us, he whispered, "Some say that last drop is the sweetest..." Holding my gaze, he brought it to his mouth and licked a small bit off his finger.

Slack-jawed, I glanced transfixed from his face to his finger to his shiny pendulous dick. Slowly, he brought his finger towards me until it gently touched my tongue. Without a second thought, I wrapped my lips around it and licked and sucked it clean of his dad juice.

It may have been my imagination, but I swore I could sense the testosterone coursing through me like electricity, feeding me strength and vigor. I rolled the tangy cream around in my mouth before swallowing several times. I smiled at Buck and whispered, "Thank you, sir."

Buck's face lit up and he affectionately pinched my nipple. "Ah, such a boy the heavens have sent us!" Wrapping a fatherly arm around my shoulder, he nodded to the sticky T-shirt and added, "Y'know, I thought about seein' if ya wanted to christen it together, but I figure ya still kinda shy about that stuff."

"Uh, thanks..." I was stunned and kept glancing from shirt to shiny dick.

"Butcha know, ya ever up for it, just say the word," he winked. "I love spurtin' with my boys." The idea made my head swim. I'd never jerked off with another guy, and like I've said, barely admitted even to myself that I ever jerked at all. Now it seemed like for every guy I'd met over the past week it was open season on circle jerks.

"Meanwhile," Buck brought me back to the matter at hand, "I'll betcha have a nice load built up in them balls of yours, ready to spurt for my son all over his shirt."

"Uhh, yessir," I admitted half in a fog.

"Well, I'll leave ya to it then. Just bring it to my room in the mornin' without him seein' it, OK?" I nodded. He leaned in close to give me my nightly kiss on the forehead, and his warm, wet dick brushed against my hand.

When he'd left a few seconds later, I inspected my hand and found a tiny drop of cum where his dick had touched. I gazed at it fondly, then sniffed and sniffed it then finally stuck out my tongue and slowly, delicately touched it. I could swear I saw or felt tiny sparks.

Looking at the shirt he'd brought me I knelt by the bed to gaze at it up close. I stared at all the `daddy cream' Buck had spilled on it. The trembling gobs seem to glisten in the lamplight. I marveled at the sight of what must have been the very essence of this man.

Several odd urges coursed through me. I imagined ripping my shirt off and laying chest down in the warm cream. I then imagined wiping my face back and forth in it. Finally, I fantasized about dragging my tongue through it, a notion that both disturbed and excited me.

I did not need to be told twice to shoot out a load. I was so incredibly hard and hot from everything that had happened, well, truly, since I'd come to this house. But the heat had been building in intensity right up to tonight and peaked when Buck stood shamelessly before me after jerking off onto this son's shirt.

And now, with his fresh abundant cream before me, I marveled at the openness with which the man rode his sexual energy. It was mind-blowing as was his constant playful physical affection that hit me like water in the desert. I assumed it must be the unfamiliar freedoms I was feeling in this house that had me so aroused.

I was kneeling by the side of the bed that gave me a view of the captain's jockstrap, Jack's shorts and singlet and my new football shorts on the wall. I started to pull Buck's crusty T-shirt over my head, but then decided it would be more fun to keep it on while I jerked off.

I stood to take off my briefs and had just stuck my fingers under the waistband to pull them down when Buck popped back in my doorway, still naked and dick still shiny and swinging. He held out a small jar in his hand and nodding at my swelling crotch, with a smile said, "Thought ya might like to try some lube on that monster."

"`Course," he nodded toward Zack's shirt as he approached the bed, "ain't no better lube than a nice gob of warm jizz, but tonight we wanna leave as much on his shirt as we can, right?" I nodded in dumb agreement.

"Well, give this stuff a test run `n see if ya like it. It's effin' amazin'! Like silk!" I raised my hand to take it from him and he stepped closer. "And ya don't need much; this stuff really lasts. I mean," and he gently gave his shiny dick a leisurely pull, "this tool is still slick as can be."

He spread his legs wide and tilted his hips forward as though offering evidence of his claim. My fingers burned at the thought of touching him, but there was no way I'd get up the courage to do so.

Buck stood there for a moment with his hands behind his head, slightly swaying his hips making his dong gently swing back and forth as though in slow motion. "Yeah," he repeated, "just slick as can be..."

After a moment of awkward silence in which I stared as though paralyzed at the spectacle of Buck, he popped his feet together, causing his dick to bounce up. "Well, alright then, ya got your work cut out for ya," he teased and play-punched me on the shoulder.

He stopped at the door and turned around, "Oh, and don't worry about not makin' any noise. Zack's a sound sleeper and it's not gonna bother me one bit. I like goin' to sleep to the sound of my boys jackin'."

It took me a minute to process what had just happened and to assure myself it wasn't a dream. Buck, my host and landlord, had just walked into my room for the second time naked after obviously masturbating, and had just brought me lube to help me masturbate myself.

If Hollywood's best scriptwriters had been offered a million dollars to come up with the most diametrically opposed situation to my last renting experience with the old biddy, could they ever have come up with this?

So many crazy details from the evening were flying through my head: Zack's `butt-less' briefs, the spontaneous dance party in the kitchen, the close inspection of Zack's puffy butthole, Zack and Buck playing with my nips, bouncing Buck's nut sack with my fingers; there were so many.

But the one image that returned again and again, and each time more insistently, was that of Buck's thick pendulous sausage, nestled in its thick forest of fur, shining and slick as a baby seal and dripping sperm.

Arguably the most intimate part of this man who had known me all of four days, and one of the most intimate acts that a person ever commits, and he was nonchalantly sharing them with me as though no more important than a door knob.

I reflected for a moment on how I'd always longed for a close bond with a father figure type, hence my naively hopeful and submissive behavior towards a series of coaches and teachers. Looking back, I'm not sure exactly what it was I was hoping to find. I guess some sort of connection to help fill a void inside.

But never did I ever in my wildest dreams imagine the scene that had just played out in that room. Or, for that matter, the crazy dynamic that was building for me in this house and among this community of men.

As compelling as these matters were to contemplate, I was still a nineteen-year-old with raging hormones and those hormones pulled me out of my head and back into the moment. As if awakening from a spell, I became aware again of my hand and that it was still holding the jar of lube that Buck had brought me.

I brought the jar closer and turned it this way and that. I squinted at the label. It read "Jack Jelly." The name hit home for several reasons. I thought of the meanings of Jack and jack and that Jack was a real jacker. That made me smile at first, but then struck me as very arousing. The way the guys around here talked about jacking was very hot.

I felt like the moment had come. With my free hand I pulled down my briefs and stepped out of them. These were the briefs that had been Mr. Akins', soaked in his cum and the captain's that I had slathered over my own meat. Recalling Zack's reaction to the scent, I pressed them to my face.

The aroma was familiar but even richer than I'd remembered, maybe because it had merged with my own and ripened from the heat from my balls. I tried to imagine how it smelled to Zack and how it would have smelled to me when I was his age.

The scent seemed to somehow tap directly into my own gonads and got me so aroused that I could no longer wait. I unscrewed the lid on the jar and held it to my nose. The smell reminded me a locker room and the gym downstairs. With two fingers I scooped out a small dab and rubbed it on my forearm.

Amazed at the honeyed slickness, I then rubbed it next on my stiffening rod and thrilled at the cool silkiness. The first few strokes got me even hotter, that initial jolt of relief and satisfaction that my dick was finally getting the attention it had been craving.

In anticipation of the unforeseen pleasures to come, I yearned for even more stimulation. I walked over and opened the closet door so that the cum-crusted mirror faced me. I then carefully picked up Zack's T-shirt off the bed and laid it down on the floor before the mirror.

I positioned everything so I could both see the new accoutrements of my emerging masculinity: the jockstrap, the singlet, and the football shorts on the wall as well as my own image stroking my now gleaming dick in my hand.

I'd never watched myself jerk before. I guess I'd always been too embarrassed or ashamed. But these past few days I'd felt nothing but permission and encouragement to indulge in the joys of self-pleasure.

I decided to give myself a show thinking of how Charlie said he flexed his muscles for his little brother. I flexed my abs and stuck out my hips as far as I could, turning this way and that to get different views. In between strokes I'd flex my biceps or lock my hands behind my head and stare lewdly at the hard naked boy in the mirror.

The feeling of freedom to revel in the act and to watch myself enjoy it without fear of censure or ridicule compounded the pleasure. I turned around and spreading my legs, bent forward then looked over my shoulder to admire the meaty butt that I'd been ashamed of.

I spread my cheeks and studied my butthole, maybe for the first time. Though not as fair and smooth as Zack's, it was still pretty hairless, and I tried to imagine how it would feel to be kissed there. And then I pictured Zack giving it a little smooch. And then Buck, blasting it with a Bronx cheer. And then each of them taking turns kissing it. Where were these crazy thoughts coming from, I wondered.

The jack jelly started making a slick slurping sound as I stroked. I stopped for a second out of habit, but then remembered Buck saying not to worry about making noise, that he enjoyed hearing his boys jacking off across the hall.

Though at first embarrassed that someone could hear me, knowing that Buck encouraged what I was doing and that he liked the sound of it increased my own enjoyment. The thought that he was cheering me on from his room made me feel like the star quarterback in the jock poster downstairs, like a hero.

I looked down at the T-shirt before me, soaked in Buck's daddy cream. Before I could control myself, I moaned from the overwhelming bliss, then immediately fretted that I might be disturbing or embarrassing myself.

But just a few heartbeats later, Buck echoed the moan from his room. That was all it took. I howled as I witnessed the first blasts of cum splat across Hank in the mirror. I grunted as the next shots spilled onto Zack's shirt at my feet.

Rope after rope of jizz spurted from my nuts, the final beads dripping over my fingers and down my throbbing shaft. I swear I came like I'd never come before. I stood there panting, looking at my naked self in the mirror as I licked at my fingers and watched as the goopy gobs of my boy cream trickled down the mirror and dripped onto Zack's shirt.