24 Mart 2023

Getting Naked For New Buds Pt. 03

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Author’s notes:

● Content Warning: Description of historic sexual assault (character was 18 at the time)


Chapter 3: “Do You Mind If I take This Off?”

I woke up in his arms a few times during the night. Just a few brief lapses into consciousness while I remained mostly asleep. I remember feeling his plump, firm dick pressed up against me. It lay along my lower spine, almost burning with heat. When I pushed my back further into it, I felt it pulse.


At one point I woke to find it perfectly wedged in my asscrack, the heat of it even more intense there. As I arched my back I felt his shaft rub along the sensitive skin of my hole. As I recall in that sleepy haze, he pushed even deeper. Not inside my hole, but he pressed his shaft along it so tight that it felt like it formed a seal. Once my anus connected with his shaft, the skin from each clung to one another. With most of the little movements we made, they would stick together. Every now and then one of us would shift enough that his rod would move along the skin, tightly pressed, and I’d feel a tingle all over.


When I woke up for real, the blinds were still closed but the slivers of daylight breaking through were enough to illuminate the room. Danny was gone. I was really hoping he’d be there.

I sat up in bed. Eric was also gone. Josh was still in bed, on the pullout; on his stomach; head to the side; hair covering one of his eyes; the other eye open, looking at me.

“Aaaah!” I cried, alarmed by his stare.

“Sorry,” he said, rousing himself, “I just woke up, too.”

My head ached, but not intolerably. I tried to orient myself. I was still naked. I remembered last night.

I had brought my clothes up to the bedroom, but they were nowhere to be seen. My phone, keys, and wallet were all on the bedside table, next to a full glass of water–from which I took a big gulp. I had left all those things in my pockets, I thought.

I reached for my phone. “11:30 AM”, it read, along with, “4 missed calls.”

It could be worse, I thought. It also could have been better and they could have texted, so I could just text back, but whatever.

I called the house line. My mom answered. I got the usual reminders and tiny guilt trips about how I need to call them and blah, blah. I indulged them–I usually did.

“Yes, I know, I’m sorry I was just having fun with friends,”

Josh nodded knowingly and smiled as I expertly deflected the parental guilt-trip with an implicit appeal to my social well-being. I got an ‘all right, son’ (in Urdu) in response, which means I had won. I told her I’d be home in a few hours.

Being the youngest of three children–by a whopping nine years–my parents tended to be pretty permissive with me. They weren’t with my older sister and brother–as those two were keen to remind me–but I think they got the chance to see that their strict, hands-on parenting didn’t really work out the way they wanted. It tended to just make everyone unhappy; perhaps them most of all. So they took a light touch with me.

They didn’t know I was gay. Not officially, though, I sometimes wondered how they could not. Especially my mom. I was good about covering my tracks, porn-wise, but there were other tells. I used to mess around with one of my few close (and gay) friends, Latif, in our house. I was constantly in my room singing and dancing to pop divas. I went through a Taylor Lautner/Twilight phase. Part of me wonders if it was just wilful ignorance.

After hanging up the phone I turned to Josh, who was now sitting up in bed. He was shirtless. He had a nice chest.

“Eric and Danny are probably in the kitchen,” Josh mumbled, “They usually get up a bit before me.”

Josh was stumbling out of bed, rubbing his head.

“You coming downstairs?” He asked me.

“In a minute; just gonna have a quick shower,” I said.


I came down the stairs wrapped in the towel, my skin all fresh and tingly from the shower. Eric and Josh were chatting at the dining table with empty bowls of cereal in front of them. Danny was at the sink, filling what looked like a plastic tub with water.

“Good morning, fellas,” I said, cheerfully, walking past the table towards Danny.

He was wearing a gleaming white tank top and a pair of light blue mesh shorts. A little tuft and a few wisps of dark hair poked out from his underarm, just above the curve of his bicep. He looked good, as always.

“There he is!” Danny shouted, spotting me as he carried the tub over to the espresso machine on the counter. “You want a cappuccino? Some cereal?”

“Sure, cappuccino, in a second,” I said, “I was actually just looking for my clothes first.”

As I began speaking Danny fired up the coffee grinder, its screeching buzz drowning out most of what I was saying.

“Sorry, what was that?” Danny asked.

I fixed a disapproving stare on Danny and said nothing, knowing full well that he’d spin up the grinder the moment I opened istanbul travesti my mouth.

“I didn’t hear what you said,” he continued, leaning towards me a bit.

I shook my head, contorting my mouth as I tried to not smile.

“C’mon, what did you say?”



He grinned as I simply continued to shake my head until he released the grinder. I waited until his hands were off it. Rather than say anything I just gestured at myself, wearing only a towel, and gave him a questioning look.

“Yeah, you look good,” he said, grinning like the mischievous, sexy, demon that he was, and slotting the espresso machine together.

“Gee thanks,” I gushed, sarcastically.

He finished assembling my fancy coffee. He placed the cappuccino on a saucer, and reached into an earthen jar, producing a small plastic-wrapped biscotti that he laid next to the cup.

He slid the whole thing over to me.

“Sugar?” He asked.

“No, thank you,” I said, lifting the cup to my lips.

It started as an affectation to feel more adult and sophisticated. My parents didn’t drink coffee, only tea. My older siblings drank their drip black and their lattes without sugar. So, I did too. It didn’t take long for me to develop a real taste for it. I now specifically enjoyed coffee for its bitter sting.

This cappuccino delivered, the espresso shocking my tongue awake and a subtle, natural sweetness from the frothed milk to smooth it out.

“This is really good, thank you,” I said.

“I’ve been making one for Ma’ every morning since I was, like, 10,” Danny said, stepping a little closer to me, and casually pinching my left nipple; a little jolt of pain and pleasure.

From the table, Eric interrupted his chatter with Josh to yell something vaguely Italian-sounding–almost certainly not real words–in an affected feminine voice that I assume was meant to be Danny’s mother.

“Close, you’re getting much better,” Danny said. “Soon I won’t be able to tell you apart.”

The reminder of all the history they shared no longer felt alienating, only endearing.

“So, about my clothes–“

“Oh, you don’t need those,” he said, putting his right hand on my upper chest and tracing his thumb down.

“Pretty sure your neighbours will disagree.”

“Wait, you’re not leaving yet, are you? We were gonna go swimming; you don’t need clothes for that. Yours are in the wash and won’t be ready for another hour.”

I appreciated the effort he was putting into keeping me naked. I was also a bit annoyed. I had worn those clothes for maybe three hours before removing them for the night. There’s no way they actually needed washing. At this point he could have just asked me to strip and I would have!

“An hour-and-a-half, max,” he added, sounding almost contrite. “Maybe I should have asked. But then I might have missed all this,” he said, slowly slipping his thumb under my towel.

He looked at me and I met his gaze. His thumb was tickling my pubes. Trying to remain as expressionless as possible, I took a sip of my cappuccino.

It wasn’t a surprise when he tugged and the towel fell to the floor. He continued running his thumb down, along my soft penis, which he took a gentle hold of. Josh and Eric perked up in their seats, but couldn’t quite see. The kitchen counter was in the way.

Danny stroked my cock a bit, but he mostly just fondled it; caressing, inspecting. I felt myself chub-up in his rough hand.

“Fuck!” Josh yelled, capturing all our attentions, “I’m supposed to be at my dad’s place, like, 25 minutes ago. I completely forgot.”

Josh, panicking, looked from Eric to Danny. Eric offered to take him. He had driven Josh last night and he was only planning on staying for an hour or two anyway, he said. They hurriedly packed their things and were almost out the door.

“Moh, nice to finally hang out with you for real,” Josh said, giving me a hug, unfazed by my nudity. As he broke off from me he gave my cock a few tugs before backing away.

“What he said,” Eric said, giving me a fist bump.

Then they were both gone and it was just Danny and me.

“So, are we going for a swim?” I asked.

“Why don’t we skip swimming,” Danny said, looming over me and running his finger in circles over my nipples.

He kissed me. We kissed. It felt so natural to feel his mouth on mine, the little pricks of stubble on his upper lip, his hot breath. My dick stiffened against his shorts. I grabbed the hem of his shirt and he lifted his arms. I pulled the shirt off of him as he swiftly removed his shorts and underwear.

We embraced again, our legs and arms moving to entwine each other, our naked bodies and plumping cocks pressing together, and our wet lips still smacking away. My hands travelled up his sides, caressing his obliques and his lats, until reaching his pits.

I lifted up his right arm and nestled my face in the dewy pocket of dark fur. His little armpit hairs tickled my nose. I took istanbul travestileri in a deep breath, inhaling his rich, earthy aroma, like leather and moss and oil. My nose clung to his sweaty pit as I dragged it around, salivating.

“You,” Danny whispered, “are a dirty boy.”

I let my tongue out and licked his musky pit. The hairs in my mouth weren’t terribly pleasant, but the rest was; the heat, the moisture, and of course the smell. I was so turned on, and so was he. Our dicks were rising together. I long held a fascination with armpits, but I had never felt comfortable enough with someone to indulge it. I always thought they would think it was gross. (I mean Danny had just called me a ‘dirty boy’, but in-context and coming from him, that was certainly a compliment.)

I brought my mouth down to his nipple and licked it, then kissed it, then gently nibbled it. Danny’s breath quickened and I took his growing cock in my hand, stroking it as I teased his little hard nipple and burrowed my face in his firm chest. In a few moments, we were both fully hard, dicks thwacking against one another as we swayed our hips.

“Get on the sofa. Kneel on it,” I said, adding, “with your back facing out.”

Danny grinned and ran over to the couch. He arched his back and bent over, letting his big muscled cheeks part, revealing his tight, little, pink hole. I wasted no time; I swooped down and plunged my tongue in. Ever since Danny had mentioned that he wanted to get rimmed more, I had been eager to help him out.

The hot, sweaty skin enveloped the front of my face like a mask, his musk sealed in with my nose and mouth. My tongue lapped at his smooth, puckered skin, the tip swirling around to feel every little groove, the taste of salt, skin and metal on it as it flexed inside Danny’s juicy ass.

We both moaned as my wet mouth slicked about his butthole. He started slamming the couch headrest with his hand. He bit into it and let out a muffled scream. I slapped his muscled ass as I continued feasting on it, admiring the sight of his rippled back. His body broke out in sweat, my nose and lips sliding along the moisture beading on his supple, creamy skin.

He gripped the headrest with both hands, tightly, the veins bulging in his red fists. His body spasmed–a sort of twerking motion, his back arching, his butt undulating–but I kept his sweet, smooth hole firmly pressed against my slobbery face.

I slapped his ass with both my hands, the sound clapping in my ears, the skin under my hands turning red. I kept tonguing him as he moaned, and couldn’t help but let my teeth scratch his sensitive skin, making him yelp and shiver. I wanted to devour him like his butt was devouring my face.

We took tiny breaks, only a few seconds at a time, as things got too intense for him. Then he’d shout for me to keep going. We switched position; my head resting on the couch seat while he sat his big ass on my face.

He gyrated and screamed expletives, without the muffling of a mouthful of sofa. His butt was smothering my face like two firm pillows, covering my nose and mouth. I became lightheaded; I could barely breathe–I couldn’t breathe, for the most part–only taking in little gasps of air as the seal momentarily broke.

I rimmed for a long time. He was insatiable. Every time I thought he was done he’d just keep squashing my face, his puckered, wet hole and my puckered wet lips trying to swallow each other.

Eventually he ground to a halt and breathlessly unseated himself from my face. He was sweating, his broad chest heaving. I could have kept going. I loved feeling him twitch and spasm, seeing the muscles ripple across his body like a wave, the feeling that I could make this adonis quiver with delight.

He took me by the face and kissed me, slowly and passionately, no doubt tasting the lingering musk of his ass. He gently stroked my cheek with his fingers and gazed into my eyes.

He kissed me again, more chastely this time, using only his lips, before saying, “I wanna fuck you.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat. Gone was his usual silliness; just a smouldering intensity. He seemed almost sad or distressed compared to his usual upbeat self, but he was really just fixated.

As I was nodding my head, whispering “Yes,” he kissed and delicately licked my ear.

“I need to fuck you,” he whispered, nibbling my ear.

We headed up to his room. My heart raced as I watched those sculpted haunches flex their way up the steps. I was about to get pounded by a very strong, very affectionate stud; I was excited and terrified.

As we got into the bedroom I was struck by the lingering boy-smell in the air. He threw open the drapes, flooding the room in bright daylight. The light gleamed off his beautiful, sweaty body. His thick, hard dick cast a massive shadow on his leg.

He hoisted me up in his arms and slammed my back down on the mattress, his mouth locked on mine. He grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside table. He lifted travesti istanbul my legs and started licking my hole, plying it with his lubed up fingers.

He got two fingers in real quick, his tongue zipping around them as he kept pleasuring my ass. He applied more and more lube. I whimpered as he breached me with a third finger, still passionately slobbering on my hole.

He slapped the fat head of his dick on my anus.

“Ahh,” I moaned, swallowing and gasping. My body was tingling with pleasure feeling his bare dick against my anus, but I finally managed to spit out, “Condom?”

“Oh,” he said, with an unmistakable look of surprise and disappointment, “Um, yeah sure.”

Most of my straight friends didn’t really use condoms. All my gay friends did. I had heard of a new anti-retroviral: a pill, supposedly taken prophylactically every day, which more or less completely prevented the transmission of HIV. Truvida or something? I should have known, I was going to major in Biochem. Regardless, until I was on it, raw sex was just too risky.

I had only had bareback sex once in my life. And it wasn’t my choice.

Brett was his name. He fucked me doggy style, outside the school at night, in the cold grass. He was using a condom, one that I had put on him. And then, at some point, he wasn’t. He didn’t tell me, much less ask me, about taking it off. When I realized, I told him I had another one in my pocket and that he should put it on. He ignored me and kept pounding. I asked him to stop. He ignored me and kept pounding. I froze. And then I just tried to pretend I wasn’t there.

I felt a brief wave of dizziness and exhaustion. Thinking about it always made me tired.

Danny reached over to his bedside cabinet and retrieved a gold foil wrapped condom. Magnums, obviously.

I unwrapped the condom and rolled it all the way down his fat, hard cock. I laid back down and lifted my legs, which he gripped onto. A thin layer of latex now pressed against my hole. He pushed gently and slowly and once again penetrated me.

I felt a sting and a surge of pleasure as my hole stretched around the girth of Danny’s manhood. He pushed in a couple inches and I struggled to take him any further. Flanked by my legs, I saw him fix a smouldering gaze directly at me, making precise and intense eye contact while he gently hammered his way into me. I met his stare, but then quickly looked away, intimidated perhaps by looking him in the eye.

He brought his face down to mine.

“Look at me,” he said.

My heart raced and I turned my head to face his, our noses tapping together as he thrusted. I directly met his stare this time and didn’t look away. His piercing gaze was at once frightening and inspiring. It made me feel both vulnerable and powerful.

He put one hand on my cheek and kissed me. I moaned as he pushed, his huge dick had to have been more than halfway inside me now. I could feel him stretching my insides. A dull ache and a warm sensation travelled through my abdomen.

“Oh fuuuuuck,” I panted, directly in his face.

He kissed me aggressively, biting my lip and licking me savagely, like a predator, his tongue sweeping through my mouth and occasionally along my face. He bit my cheek; as I felt the sharp sting of his pearly white teeth, he thrusted even more–now he was all the way in.

My entire upper body seized with pain and pleasure as I felt his big cock filling me, the firm meat pressing against my prostate and stretching my anus. His kisses became more tender as he started thrusting. He moved slowly at first, but within seconds my ass had learned to take him fully, and he was pounding me.

He started jackhammering. His body clapped against my ass with stinging force. I felt the shockwaves of his cock charging through my rectum, travelling throughout my body with every pump. It was bliss, I grappled him as tightly as I could with my legs and arms as he pounded away at me.

I was sweating ferociously, my body slippery to the touch. We kissed again. As our tongues twirled together, I couldn’t help but feel a kind of restraint on his part. Restraint may not have been the best word, but there was something.

Even in this short time, I felt I had gotten to know Danny’s body language. With every touch he gave so much attention and passion, and right now, some minuscule part of that was absent and I could tell. I had a pretty good idea why, too. And I wasn’t sure if I should ask him. I had a feeling I knew where this road led.

“What’s wrong?” I finally asked him, while he was diligently pumping me full of cock.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused and concerned. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong?”

I lifted my head to kiss him.

“I just get the feeling that you’re liking it, but you’re not loving it,” I said.

He chuckled, recognizing that I was quoting his words from last night. He kept thrusting, but slower.

“I don’t want to be an asshole or anything,” he said, looking a little embarrassed, adding, “but, do you mind if I take this off?” Referring to the condom (the only thing he was wearing). “I don’t have to! I’m kind of a fuck machine; I can fuck all sorts of ways,” he quickly added, making a show of thrusting harder and flashing me his pearly whites.

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