Hey friends!
Look, there's just something about a cocky yob, who can't keep his hands off his own junk, giving you the sort of smirk that says he could ruin your world - or maybe just your ass.
That idea of 'impossible to resist' is the topic of my newest book, too: it's called "A Boy To Order" and it's all about a shy, geeky camboy and the "straight" jock he ends up performing with. If you like super-high-heat gay romance, check it out - it's available now on Amazon, Apple Books, Smashwords, B&N, Kobo, and more!
As always, I appreciate you reading, and I love getting emails - alexp336@gmail.com! I've got a free newsletter at my site www.AlexPendragon.com, too, and you get a bonus story for signing up...
-Alex Pendragon
** You Can't Say No To Bad Boys **
It was childish, to think I could close my eyes and be rendered invisible to them, but I still wanted to try it.
Only the thought of being watched, assessed, without seeing it happen left me staring fixedly ahead. Cautious not to make eye contact; willing my face into a mask of disinterest. Even as my whole body clenched with anxiety, nails gouging my palms, and a three word mantra cycled through my brain.
Don't sit here. Don't sit here. Don't sit here.
I was damned, of course, by my own antisocial tendencies. Taking a seat on the at the back of the bus, because the idea of strangers watching my head from behind, my neck, my shoulders left me writhing with discomfort. Skin prickling, as though even the most casual glance was something physical.
These three men didn't know me, but they did covet my bubble of relative privacy.
Swaying in the aisle as the driver pulled away from the curb, laughing loudly as they bumped and shuffled. No second-guessing their own volume, no tempering their boisterousness in deference of their fellow passengers, even though they were few in number. Effortlessly blasé, in a way I'd never managed to accomplish for myself.
Sharks' smiles, flashed my way as they closed on the rearmost benches.
Swinging in around me, jostling me as I pressed myself closer to the window and then felt the stab of regret and frustration. Wishing I'd kept up my stoic guise, not let on that their very presence was stressful and unnerving. No guarantee, of course, but some scolding part of my brain insisted that had I simply waited it out, ignored them, they'd have occupied themselves.
"Alright, mate?"
Said with a smirk, not so much a question as a challenge. A grinning face under a cap, early twenties but cockiness adding years.
I glanced at him, out of the corner of my eye, and shrugged.
"Yeah, you?"
Brevity was the key, I figured. Brevity would make me seem uninteresting.
He winked at me. "Oh, we're doing fuckin' grand, don't you worry about that."
The other two cawed with laughter. I risked a nod, half a smile.
"So, is it a job interview," he asked, looking me up and down, "or court?" He laughed, setting the other two off again.
It wasn't even like I was dressed that smartly. Black jeans, new enough not to be faded from washing yet; a gray button-down shirt. I had lots of the same outfit in my closet, favoring the surreptitious.
Then again, compared to his white tracksuit with its dark blue stripes, I probably did look funereal.
"Neither," I said, shortly.
He raised his eyebrow at the other two, turned back to watch us from the row ahead. "Get a load of Mister Mystery, here, lads."
I winced.
He leaned into me, as he dug in his pocket. Extracted a battered looking vape. I resisted the urge to glance up at the conspicuous "No Smoking" sign on the window.
Not that it mattered; he sucked on it in vain, no telltale puff of sickly-sweet smoke.
"Well, fuck me," he complained, gesturing with the empty pipe. Then used it to tap me on the arm. "Hey, Mister Mystery. You gonna spot me for a refill?"
I shrugged, shoulders tight. "No cash. Sorry."
That grin again. He dug his hand into the opposite pocket, knuckles brushing my thigh as he pulled out a phone. "No problem, I take it all ways."
I turned my head just enough to look at him, taking in his sly expression and the outstretched handset. Knowing, as well as he did, that this wasn't really a request, or a favor. I swallowed my sigh, as I slipped out my own phone.
His smile broadened, as he twisted alongside me to tap his against mine. The movement felt inexplicably intimate.
"Five okay?" I said, blithely. Or trying for it, anyway.
He chuckled, then reached over to nudge my fingers away from the screen. "Let's say ten, just to be safe, right, mate?"
I watched him tap the numbers in, holding my breath.
Another stare. "Go on, then," he said, voice softer now. As though we were both finding this as quietly amusing as he was. "Help a guy out."
Swallowing, I hit the button and watched the screen ripple as the "help" left my account and entered his. "You just paid Kieran" popped up on the screen.
He waited, until I looked up again, to wink. "Thanks... Sean."
Obviously it'd just revealed my name, too, but I still jerked slightly at hearing it come out of his mouth.
The other lads snickered.
Kieran shoved his phone back into his pocket; I felt the scrape of it against my leg, through my jeans. Then he sat back, arm stretching out behind me. Not touching, no, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiate off him.
"So where're you off to, Sean?" Somehow, he managed to say my name like it was a sneer.
"Into town," I said, blandly. Hoping that, with money extracted and if I seemed suitably dull, he might get distracted.
Another laugh. "Going to see your girlfriend, is it?"
His arm tightened, rocking me in against him momentarily. His two friends laughed again.
"No," I told him.
Another squeeze. "Your boyfriend?"
More snickering from in front of us. I willed my face not to blush.
"No."
Kieran ruffled my hair. "Ah, ain't nothing wrong with having a boyfriend, is there, lads?" A chorus of amused-sounding agreement. "As long as you're getting some action, right, Sean?"
He was staring at me, at the side of my face, I knew he was. His attention had weight to it, ominous and threatening. As though, if I turned and met his gaze, he'd be able to see right into my brain and all my secrets would be laid bare.
"I'm not seeing anyone," I said, forcing coolness into my voice. A stability I didn't feel inside, my stomach churning.
For a moment - drawn-out and horrifying - he kneaded the back of my neck with his fingers. I fought the urge to scream out loud.
And then, just as sudden, Kieran released me. Looking ahead, at where his friends were poring over a phone screen and making lewd comments.
It felt like every muscle in me was singing with tension. As if all it might take would be one, sharp snap, and I'd unravel like a coil of steel wire.
Worse still, I was hopelessly turned on.
Unmistakably, terrifyingly, shamefully so. Cock rigid in my jeans; chest tight with something beyond just anxiety. Every breath I took filled me with his scent - something pungent and earthy, mixed with sandalwood and the sweet hint of vape smoke - and set my head spinning.
The fact he was dangerous only made me throb all the harder.
Dangerous as in unpredictable; dangerous as in all too likely to betray me, or - more accurately - to lure me into betraying myself. I'd known guys like him in school, grown up surrounded by them, loud and cocky. Brashly confident, and more cunning than most gave them credit for. I was familiar enough to know a trap when I saw one.
My problem was, just because I was smart enough to see a trap, didn't mean I was smart enough not to walk into it. Or, at least, to imagine what that would be like.
Slowly, as if my eye sockets had rusted through, I eased my gaze down. Away from the braying pair in front of me; down the ripped seat with its scratched metal frame. Kieran's legs sprawling, one almost pressed against my own and the other splayed with the casual grace of someone who has never questioned the space he took up in the world.
I held my breath, as I dragged my stare up along his thigh. Part of me almost wanting to be caught, to be called out on my perversion; that way I'd be forced to stop, and in the process put an end to the sick fascination I was suffused with.
No interruption, though, even as my eyes landed on the fullness of his crotch. Vague shapes and unmistakeable heft, that had me chewing my lip in desperation.
The bus shook, a bump in the road setting us rocking against each other. Kieran's arm tightening, just briefly, around my shoulders - whether merely instinctive, or to keep me upright, or him, I wasn't sure - as his other hand shifted to his crotch. Fingers resting casually around the meat of his upper leg, fingertips just trailing against the edge of that mesmerizing swell between his thighs.
"Careful, Mister Mystery," he murmured. Soft enough, there seemed little chance of his friends hearing.
Said casually, too; ever so slightly teasing, if anything. Not that I didn't react as though I'd been scalded, head snapping up to stare straight ahead, as my heart hammered in my chest.
"Sean," I said, equally softly.
"Sean," he echoed, the smile clear in his tone.
It was a mistake, of course it was. A weakening of my defenses, when I should've been shoring them up. But it was hard to think straight when Kieran's hand was very nearly resting on his dick.
"Fuck, will you look at the tits on her."
A phone brandished by the guy sat in front of me, accompanied by a broad grin. Some topless - and top-heavy - model on the screen, pouting in what I figured was the way straight guys were meant to find appealing. Kieran leaned forward, his arm snaking from behind my neck.
I had just enough time to take a relieved breath, before his fingers gripped my thigh.
Something close to casual about it, distracted. Plausible, even, that he was simply supporting himself as the bus jounced. Was ignorant of my shocked reaction and the reasons for it.
He turned, to look at me. Winked. "What do you think, Sean? Is she your type? You wanna suck on her tits?"
Two things, I knew for sure. One, that she was definitely not my type. Two, there was no way I was going to admit that now.
I shrugged, trying to look uninterested. Or, at the very least, like the fact that his fingertips were still digging into my leg wasn't pushing me toward hyperventilating.
"Mister Mystery," Kieran repeated. His knowing smirk suggested my efforts at seeming casual had been ineffective. Eyes glinting under the curved peak of his cap. He gestured, with his chin, at the guy holding the phone. "What about Gav, then? You wanna suck his dick instead?"
No way to avoid my eyes widening, in shock, even as the others cracked up laughing. Seemingly treating this all as a joke, just another way to tease an uptight stranger. Almost able to believe that, too, if it wasn't for Kieran's hold on my thigh. The way his fingers had dug in, between my legs, his palm hot through the denim.
"Yeah, Sean," the third guy, the one whose name I still didn't know, crowed between snorts. "If you're not into girls, maybe you fancy a shrimp?"
"Fuck you!" Gav shouted, still laughing, as he reached across the aisle to punch his friend in the shoulder. The two play-sparred for a moment.
"It's funny," Kieran explained, voice soft and his lips suddenly close to my ear, "because Gav's fuckin' hung."
I cut my eyes at him, barely daring to breathe, much less move. Waiting for the moment his expression would twist into amusement, the sign that we could both laugh too, perhaps. Make entirely clear the fact that this was all a joke, even if it was one that strayed uncomfortably close to topics I really didn't want to discuss. Not just with brash, crude strangers on a bus, but with anybody.
The smile didn't come, though, liberation withheld. Just that knowing look, the corner of his mouth ever so slightly twisted, and then - slow, pointed, unmistakable - his stare dipping down. Focusing on my crotch, where I knew with nauseating clarity that my hard cock was straining in my jeans, just inches from Kieran's fingers.
"No shrimp yourself, Sean," he observed.
Fittingly, my face went lobster red.
Quick as a flash, he pinched the swollen head of my dick. The shock more than the stab of sensations causing me to twist on the seat, squirming and gasping, as Kieran slung his arm around my neck and pulled me down close to him. Almost pinning us to the frame of the seat in front, as I fought the urge to yank myself away.
"Come on, Gav, show Sean your shrimp," he teased.
Gav rolled his eyes, but that didn't stop him from leaning back and tugging down the front of his sweatpants. Boxer shorts too, a glimpse of well-washed plaid before my eyes were hooked on the smooth, fat length of cockmeat laying soft between his thighs. Obviously far from hard, but still more than impressive.
"What do you think, Sean," Kieran purred in my ear, "is that more your type?"
It was ridiculous, unbelievable, my brain was screaming. That some stranger should be exposing himself to me, in public, at the back of a bus. While his friends crowded round, and apparently expected me to give a verdict on just how appealing his dick was.
Ridiculous, and yet I couldn't drag my eyes away.
"You wanna suck it, don't you, Sean."
Kieran asking, but it could've just as easily been my own, internal voice. Forcing me to own up to the lust swelling inside me, the truth that - despite my fear, and my discomfort, and the knowledge that what was happening now was wildly risky - there was some part of me that did want to suck him. Wanted to feel Gav's slab of cock swell in my mouth, how the thickening knob would push at the entrance of my throat.
"Wait," I said, weakly. A miserly protest, not even believable to my own ears.
Sure enough, Kieran only chuckled. "You say wait," he pointed out, "but this says different."
Before, he'd only pinched me. A tweak, fast and shocking. Now, though, his hand was wrapped around the swell of my erection. Squeezing it through my jeans, as he gripped me against his side.
I didn't even bother arguing, when - with a quick glance around - Gav shifted to the back seat, and Kieran pressed me down across his own lap until my face was inches from his friend's crotch.
The heat of it, fierce against my skin, and the sweet musk setting my brain spinning in my skull. Suddenly mortified, when I realized I was already drooling onto him.
"Don't just stare, then, mate," Gav sniped, and then I felt the pressure on the back of my head.
Not overpowering, not more than I could've pressed back against. Extricated myself, pushed myself upright again. And yet the thought of arguing with the fingers nudging through my hair was impossible.
I was too busy, anyway, running my tongue down the length of his shaft.
Root to tip, practically; enough to taste him, enough to end up with a glaze of precum across my lips. The sharpness of that leaving me breathless, as I tilted to feed the head of his dick into my mouth.
"Yeah, fuck... suck me."
The words unimaginative, but I didn't care. Too focused on how he was swelling as I suckled on him, filling out until my lips began to stretch. Big when he was soft, sure, but Gav apparently a shower and a grower, as I slobbered on the increasingly stiff length spearing into me.
It didn't even take the hand on my neck to start me bobbing.
A grunt, muffled around the cock brushing my tonsils, as Kieran released my own, trapped erection from his grip. Pulling his hand free from my folded-over body, only to ease it down the small of my back and across my ass. Slow, and soothing, as though I was some flighty animal needing pacifying.
He pushed my shirt up a little more each time, until his hand was stroking my lower back before it followed the curve of my cheeks. A step from there, to pushing under the waistband of my jeans - the shocking realization that I'd been so focused on the blow job I was giving, I hadn't even felt him unbutton them before Kieran extricated his hand - and squeezing me through my briefs alone.
"Now, how did you get such a perfect butt, eh, Sean?" He sounded amused again. "Walking round, teasing everyone with this fuckin' bubble."
Another grunt, of denial, of protest. But unintelligible, not that I could quite bring myself to care, what with Gav's man-scale prick pressing into my throat while I tried, desperately, to swallow around him.
The surprise of Kieran's finger jabbing at my hole, his hand inside my briefs, gave his friend all the opening he needed to plug my gullet.
Body twitching across Kieran's thighs, as his finger pushed into me. Slow, careful almost, but unrelenting all the same; flexing just enough to lull my fluttering muscles and then grind all the deeper.
I knew I should stop him, when I felt him tugging my pants down, but my brain felt unmoored.
The cool air on my cheeks, and then the excruciating absence of Kieran's fingers for a moment. Swiftly followed by the sound of him spitting - the other two laughing, even as Gav's hips bucked underneath me, gently choking me with each upward thrust - and then he pushed into me again. The motion smoother, now, easier. So much so that I barely gasped when he worked the second in alongside the first.
I felt him move under me, easing to the side. Twisting as he did it, hugging my body as he shifted to the side. Fingers still plying my hole, that addictive, indescribable sensation of something foreign yet so incredible. Toying with and stretching my most intimate parts.
The rustle of his pants, and then the hot slap of what could only be his cock against my cheek.
"Fuck, mate, yeah... roast him." Gav's voice thick with lust, with excitement. Somehow even harder between my lips, wide shaft meaty against my tongue as I bobbed and drooled on him. I'd sucked dick before, been fucked before even, but those had been shy, almost coy assignations. Tentative; two uncertain queer kids exploring. Whereas this - dangerously public, anonymous, with no holding back from my greedy slobbering - felt otherworldly and bizarre.
A wrenching emptiness inside me, and then Kieran spat again. The slick, lewd sound of his fist, and then it was something altogether wider, more blunt, that was nudging at me. Patient only in as much as finding the perfect angle to skewer my hole took a moment, our bodies slumped sideways on the cramped bench, and then his hunger made clear as he drove himself inside.
I gasped around the cock in my throat, wriggling between the two men. Not sure if I was trying to escape, or simply because stimulation like that - what felt like every nerve-ending howling, as my insides rearranged to take his unstinting thrusts - needed some reaction, something to mark its incredible intensity.
It was hard, and fast, and feral. Fucking with one goal in mind, chasing friction and nothing more. My body a hole, a clenching, twitching sleeve for him to rut in.
Not that I could bring myself to care, not really.
A muttered "fuck!" through clenched teeth the only warning Gav issued, before his cum flooded my mouth. Foaming and slopping around his still-pumping shaft, the taste of it overwhelmingly intense in its sweet-sharpness. A smack, between my shoulder blades, in what seemed like near-desperation as I sucked on his suddenly delicate tip.
He yanked me away, an arm wrapping my neck as he held me - my cheek against his groin - tightly. Cock dangling still-hard, red, slicked with cum and my throat's slime. When I raised my gaze from it, it was to make eye-contact with their third, nameless friend, and the glint of his phone camera's lens. Realizing, with a sick twist in my stomach, that he must've been filming all along.
No room to protest, though, or even rational thought. Not with how Kieran was sawing at my ass, slamming home with each deep stroke as my untouched dick spooled precum onto the rough seat fabric.
"Fuck... fuck!" He sounded angry, a hissed intensity that might've cowed me had I not been near-delirious already from the constant strumming of my tender insides. "Mystery Sean gets a mystery load."
One last stab, what felt like the deepest yet. As though Kieran was trying to reach my cramping belly with the fat tip of his dick, release the tension there from being filmed, from being fucked, from having my willingness be so clearly obvious that even this pack of street rats could be sure of my compliance.
Holding there, as he unloaded in me. His fingers digging into my hip, as though afraid that I might jerk away at the last moment. Spoil this triumph of breeding me so thoroughly.
A beat, his fingers squeezing harder, and then he dragged himself free. Rolling away from me, wasting no time in yanking his clothes back into place.
Gav pushed me upright, brusque but not aggressively, so he could lift his ass and tug his sweatpants back up. With shaky hands, I tried to right my own clothes in turn.
The reality of what had just happened flooded through me, ice cold and mortifying. With a wink, the guy filming lowered his phone.
"Don't look so pissed," Kieran said, cheerfully, interrupting my spiraling. "Ain't like you're gonna get pregnant."
I blinked at him, trying to process, Knowing I should say something, should have some reaction, and yet all I could do was stare at the smirk on his thin lips and wonder what would happen - what anger, what aggression it might unlock - if I leaned in and kissed him. Not sure I even wanted to, my mouth still thick with the taste of his friend, and yet once conjured the thought was like a burr, needling me impossibly.
Kieran's tongue flicked out, snake-fast across his grin, and for a moment I had the dizzying paranoia that he'd read my mind. Knew that, far from being angry or regretful at what they'd done, at least some part of me was hungry for it to escalate.
Thoughts interrupted by the rough chime of the bell, and the squeaking of air brakes.
Kieran glanced out of the window. "This is us, lads."
Words still beyond me, nothing I could do but watch Gav and the other stand and - with barely a glance back - work their way down the aisle. I shrank back in the seat as Kieran stood to push past me.
No way not to notice the still-thick outline of his cock, in those three-stripe sweatpants. No way not to breathe in, fill my lungs with a heady blend of musk and fresh sweat.
When I looked up, a little fearfully, it was to discover he was already staring down at me. The grin knowing, now, as though he was fully aware that these few minutes had been all it took for him to imprint on me so thoroughly.
A wink, and then he was in the aisle. Made it a few rows down, before he twisted back.
"Didn't you hear me? This is our stop. Move your ass, already."
The frame of the seat in front was cold against my fingers, as I pulled myself to my feet. Loving and hating the expression of amused satisfaction on Kieran's face; the slight nod of approval, before he turned to move after his friends.
There was no point in closing my eyes now. He'd already seen enough to know I'd follow.
Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Better still, you can let me know what you thought at alexp336@gmail.com
If you're looking for more stories, meanwhile, I'm under "Alex P" on the Nifty authors page, and I have other books at www.AlexPendragon.com. Happy reading!