Strip Fifa
- Thread starter Scouserjay
- Start date
I agree ! So here’s what I propose. Let’s get some help and make it an ai generated project. (Unless someone else feels like he can write the rest of the story). I don’t know if you’re good at using ai but if so let people give their ideas on what should happen next (forfeit, josh getting involved etc) and let’s continue this thing.
Well shit.....I was just as disappointed as ya'll but my horniness needs more so AI to start mixed with my own writing, let's continue? Let me know what you think!
Adam’s face went pale. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? A wank? On camera? No way, mate. That’s not what we agreed.”
Simon leaned back, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He gestured around the room with one hand. “Actually, it is. We agreed ‘pretty much anything goes’ as long as it’s not illegal or causes permanent damage. This fits the rules. You lost the bet. You’re naked, you’ve got two forfeits coming, and this is just the first one. Don’t be a sore loser, Adam.”
“But that’s… that’s well out of order,” Adam stammered, wrapping his arms around himself. The humiliation of being naked was bad enough, but this was something else entirely. It was a level of intimacy he’d never shared with anyone, let alone a guy he’d only known for a few months and who was currently gloating his arse off.
“Out of order is backing out of a deal,” Simon said, his tone hardening slightly. He picked up his phone from the bedside table and waved it. “The camera’s ready. You want to add a third forfeit for arguing? Because I can.”
Adam stared at him, then at the phone. He felt trapped. His own stupid rules, his own cockiness, had led him to this exact moment. He’d been so focused on getting revenge on Simon that he hadn’t properly considered what would happen if he lost. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Fine,” he mumbled, the word barely audible. “But you keep that video to yourself. If Josh or anyone else sees it, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Scout’s honour,” Simon grinned, holding up three fingers in a mock salute. “Now, get moving. The bathroom’s down the hall. Don’t want you getting cold feet.”
Adam stood up, his movements stiff and awkward. Every step felt like a walk of shame as he padded out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom, acutely aware of Simon’s eyes on his naked back. He could hear Simon following him, the sound of his bare feet on the floorboards a constant reminder of what was about to happen.
The bathroom was small and stark, with a shower curtain pulled across the tub. Adam flicked on the light and the fan, the sudden noise doing little to calm his racing heart. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until steam began to fill the small room. It offered a slight bit of cover, at least.
“Alright, I’m ready,” Simon’s voice came from the doorway. He was holding his phone up, the red recording light clearly visible. “Let’s make this a good one. Think of it as your big performance.”
Adam shot him a death glare over his shoulder before pulling the shower curtain closed. He stepped into the tub, the hot water instantly hitting his skin and making him flinch. He stood there for a moment, just letting the water cascade over him, trying to block out the fact that Simon was just a few feet away, filming him.
“You’re not getting paid by the hour, mate!” Simon called out, his voice muffled by the curtain and the sound of the water. “Get on with it!”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Adam reached down and closed his hand around his flaccid cock. It felt alien and strange. He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything, anything at all, that would get him hard. He tried to picture girls from school, models from magazines, but the image of Simon standing there with his phone kept intruding, killing any arousal he managed to build.
He started stroking, his movements clumsy and forced. He could hear Simon chuckling softly from the other side of the curtain. “Having a bit of trouble there, Adam? Need some inspiration?” he jokingly squeezes his crotch.
“Fuck off,” Adam grunted, his face burning with a mixture of shame and anger. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, focusing on the sensation of the hot water and his own hand. Slowly, reluctantly, his body began to respond. Blood started to flow, and his cock started to stiffen in his palm. It was a betrayal, his own body obeying the terms of a forfeit his mind was screaming against.
He started to stroke properly now, his hand sliding up and down his shaft. He tried to lose himself in the physical sensation his foreskin repeatedly sliding off down off his head. He pulled harder on his cock, angrily urging for this forfeit to end and trying to pretend he was alone the embarrassment almost overwhelming. He could hear the water, his own breathing, and the faint, tell-tale sound of Simon and the camera capturing it all. The pressure built in his blonde hairy balls, a tight, coiling sensation drawing them closer that was both a relief and a final humiliation.
He leaned his forearm against the tiled wall, his head bowed. His strokes became faster, more desperate. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just reacting, chasing the inevitable end to this ordeal. With a guttural groan and a final moment of shaking pleasure that he tried to stifle, he came, his release spurting out hard splashing on the wall, instantly washed away by the stream of water from the shower head. His knees shaky, he turned and a final spurt urged past the shower curtain toward Simon.
He stood there for a long moment, panting, the water washing over him as he tried to process what had just happened. He felt hollowed out, completely and utterly degraded.
“Got it,” Simon’s voice announced cheerfully. “And that’s a wrap. You can come out now.”
Adam slowly turned off the water and pulled back the curtain. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around his waist, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet Simon’s gaze. Simon was lowering the camera, a look of deep satisfaction on his face as he noticed the drop of cum on his pant leg.
“Well, that was entertaining, but fuck dude you got me even more dirty” Simon laughed wiping the drop up with his finger. “ Fuck it, one forfeit down, one to go. Let me shower and we'll get back to the game. I can't wait for you to see what I've got in store for you next".
Adam’s face went pale. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? A wank? On camera? No way, mate. That’s not what we agreed.”
Simon leaned back, a triumphant smirk spreading across his face. He gestured around the room with one hand. “Actually, it is. We agreed ‘pretty much anything goes’ as long as it’s not illegal or causes permanent damage. This fits the rules. You lost the bet. You’re naked, you’ve got two forfeits coming, and this is just the first one. Don’t be a sore loser, Adam.”
“But that’s… that’s well out of order,” Adam stammered, wrapping his arms around himself. The humiliation of being naked was bad enough, but this was something else entirely. It was a level of intimacy he’d never shared with anyone, let alone a guy he’d only known for a few months and who was currently gloating his arse off.
“Out of order is backing out of a deal,” Simon said, his tone hardening slightly. He picked up his phone from the bedside table and waved it. “The camera’s ready. You want to add a third forfeit for arguing? Because I can.”
Adam stared at him, then at the phone. He felt trapped. His own stupid rules, his own cockiness, had led him to this exact moment. He’d been so focused on getting revenge on Simon that he hadn’t properly considered what would happen if he lost. He swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Fine,” he mumbled, the word barely audible. “But you keep that video to yourself. If Josh or anyone else sees it, I’ll fucking kill you.”
“Scout’s honour,” Simon grinned, holding up three fingers in a mock salute. “Now, get moving. The bathroom’s down the hall. Don’t want you getting cold feet.”
Adam stood up, his movements stiff and awkward. Every step felt like a walk of shame as he padded out of the bedroom and towards the bathroom, acutely aware of Simon’s eyes on his naked back. He could hear Simon following him, the sound of his bare feet on the floorboards a constant reminder of what was about to happen.
The bathroom was small and stark, with a shower curtain pulled across the tub. Adam flicked on the light and the fan, the sudden noise doing little to calm his racing heart. He turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until steam began to fill the small room. It offered a slight bit of cover, at least.
“Alright, I’m ready,” Simon’s voice came from the doorway. He was holding his phone up, the red recording light clearly visible. “Let’s make this a good one. Think of it as your big performance.”
Adam shot him a death glare over his shoulder before pulling the shower curtain closed. He stepped into the tub, the hot water instantly hitting his skin and making him flinch. He stood there for a moment, just letting the water cascade over him, trying to block out the fact that Simon was just a few feet away, filming him.
“You’re not getting paid by the hour, mate!” Simon called out, his voice muffled by the curtain and the sound of the water. “Get on with it!”
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Adam reached down and closed his hand around his flaccid cock. It felt alien and strange. He closed his eyes, trying to think of anything, anything at all, that would get him hard. He tried to picture girls from school, models from magazines, but the image of Simon standing there with his phone kept intruding, killing any arousal he managed to build.
He started stroking, his movements clumsy and forced. He could hear Simon chuckling softly from the other side of the curtain. “Having a bit of trouble there, Adam? Need some inspiration?” he jokingly squeezes his crotch.
“Fuck off,” Adam grunted, his face burning with a mixture of shame and anger. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, focusing on the sensation of the hot water and his own hand. Slowly, reluctantly, his body began to respond. Blood started to flow, and his cock started to stiffen in his palm. It was a betrayal, his own body obeying the terms of a forfeit his mind was screaming against.
He started to stroke properly now, his hand sliding up and down his shaft. He tried to lose himself in the physical sensation his foreskin repeatedly sliding off down off his head. He pulled harder on his cock, angrily urging for this forfeit to end and trying to pretend he was alone the embarrassment almost overwhelming. He could hear the water, his own breathing, and the faint, tell-tale sound of Simon and the camera capturing it all. The pressure built in his blonde hairy balls, a tight, coiling sensation drawing them closer that was both a relief and a final humiliation.
He leaned his forearm against the tiled wall, his head bowed. His strokes became faster, more desperate. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just reacting, chasing the inevitable end to this ordeal. With a guttural groan and a final moment of shaking pleasure that he tried to stifle, he came, his release spurting out hard splashing on the wall, instantly washed away by the stream of water from the shower head. His knees shaky, he turned and a final spurt urged past the shower curtain toward Simon.
He stood there for a long moment, panting, the water washing over him as he tried to process what had just happened. He felt hollowed out, completely and utterly degraded.
“Got it,” Simon’s voice announced cheerfully. “And that’s a wrap. You can come out now.”
Adam slowly turned off the water and pulled back the curtain. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it tightly around his waist, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet Simon’s gaze. Simon was lowering the camera, a look of deep satisfaction on his face as he noticed the drop of cum on his pant leg.
“Well, that was entertaining, but fuck dude you got me even more dirty” Simon laughed wiping the drop up with his finger. “ Fuck it, one forfeit down, one to go. Let me shower and we'll get back to the game. I can't wait for you to see what I've got in store for you next".
Adam stood frozen for a moment, the towel feeling like a flimsy shield against Simon’s predatory gaze. The steam from the shower clung to him, but he felt cold to the bone. He had just done the most humiliating thing of his life, and Simon was acting like he’d just won a five-pound scratch card.
“Right, I’m all gross and sweaty,” Simon announced, gesturing towards the bathroom. “I’m jumping in the shower, don't put on your nasty clothes again, here" Simon reached into his dresser and threw a pair of boxer briefs, a t shirt and a pair of basketball shorts on his bed. As he turned, he peeled off his shirt and yanked down his pants, his untamed bush and thick cut cock flopping out as he stepped into the bathroom yelling out through the barely open door, "Get dressed, but don’t get too comfortable. Your next forfeit is waiting.”
Without waiting for a reply, Simon shut the bathroom door, leaving Adam alone in the bedroom. The sound of the shower starting up echoed in the silence. For a second, Adam just stood there, the towel wrapped around his waist, his mind replaying the last twenty minutes on a horrifying loop. The shame was a physical weight, pressing down on his shoulders.
He started pacing, his movements sharp and angry. He couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far, what had he done. His own stupid rules, his own cocky belief that he’d win, had led him to being filmed while having a wank, this all started as a bit of fun with Josh and here he's now revealed his best friends nudes to Simon behind his back and has now had a proper wank and cum in front of another guy on film. The image of Simon holding up that camera, that smug look on his face, was burned into his memory. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage towards him, mixed with a deep, gut-wrenching embarrassment.
He stopped and looked at his pile of clothes on the bed. Getting dressed felt like admitting defeat, like putting on a uniform of shame. He slowly let the towel drop, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps on his skin. He pulled on the boxers, then the shorts, and finally the top all of them way too big, hanging loose on his skinny blonde body. Each layer of clothing felt like it was weighing him down, a constant reminder of how he’d just been stripped bare, both physically and emotionally.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the bathroom door, and listened to the sound of the water. He stewed, replaying every stupid mistake he’d made in the game. The missed tackle, the conceded penalty. If he’d just been a bit more careful, none of this would be happening. He’d be the one gloating, the one thinking up humiliating forfeits for Simon. The thought of what Simon could possibly have in store for him next made his stomach churn. He’d been so sure of himself, and now he was paying the price.
After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the shower stopped. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Simon walked out, rubbing his hair with a towel. He was naked but the towel hung down covering all but a tuft of his pubes peeking out, his skin still pink from the heat, and he moved with a completely unbothered confidence that made Adam’s blood boil.
“Feeling better?” Adam muttered, not turning around.
“Much,” Simon said cheerfully. He dropped the towel on the floor and started rifling through his drawers for clean clothes. “All clean and ready for the second half. And, more importantly, ready to dish out your next forfeit.”
Adam’s heart sank. He’d been hoping Simon might have forgotten, or that the thrill of victory might have worn off. But no, he was just as eager as ever.
Simon pulled on a pair of boxers and shorts, then turned to face Adam, a wide, wicked grin on his face. “Alright, mate. Forfeit number two. I was thinking… since you got to have a little ‘fun time’ in the shower, it’s only fair that I get to have a little fun time now.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam asked, his voice wary.
“Right, I’m all gross and sweaty,” Simon announced, gesturing towards the bathroom. “I’m jumping in the shower, don't put on your nasty clothes again, here" Simon reached into his dresser and threw a pair of boxer briefs, a t shirt and a pair of basketball shorts on his bed. As he turned, he peeled off his shirt and yanked down his pants, his untamed bush and thick cut cock flopping out as he stepped into the bathroom yelling out through the barely open door, "Get dressed, but don’t get too comfortable. Your next forfeit is waiting.”
Without waiting for a reply, Simon shut the bathroom door, leaving Adam alone in the bedroom. The sound of the shower starting up echoed in the silence. For a second, Adam just stood there, the towel wrapped around his waist, his mind replaying the last twenty minutes on a horrifying loop. The shame was a physical weight, pressing down on his shoulders.
He started pacing, his movements sharp and angry. He couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far, what had he done. His own stupid rules, his own cocky belief that he’d win, had led him to being filmed while having a wank, this all started as a bit of fun with Josh and here he's now revealed his best friends nudes to Simon behind his back and has now had a proper wank and cum in front of another guy on film. The image of Simon holding up that camera, that smug look on his face, was burned into his memory. He felt a surge of pure, unadulterated rage towards him, mixed with a deep, gut-wrenching embarrassment.
He stopped and looked at his pile of clothes on the bed. Getting dressed felt like admitting defeat, like putting on a uniform of shame. He slowly let the towel drop, the cool air of the room raising goosebumps on his skin. He pulled on the boxers, then the shorts, and finally the top all of them way too big, hanging loose on his skinny blonde body. Each layer of clothing felt like it was weighing him down, a constant reminder of how he’d just been stripped bare, both physically and emotionally.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to the bathroom door, and listened to the sound of the water. He stewed, replaying every stupid mistake he’d made in the game. The missed tackle, the conceded penalty. If he’d just been a bit more careful, none of this would be happening. He’d be the one gloating, the one thinking up humiliating forfeits for Simon. The thought of what Simon could possibly have in store for him next made his stomach churn. He’d been so sure of himself, and now he was paying the price.
After what felt like an eternity, the sound of the shower stopped. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened and Simon walked out, rubbing his hair with a towel. He was naked but the towel hung down covering all but a tuft of his pubes peeking out, his skin still pink from the heat, and he moved with a completely unbothered confidence that made Adam’s blood boil.
“Feeling better?” Adam muttered, not turning around.
“Much,” Simon said cheerfully. He dropped the towel on the floor and started rifling through his drawers for clean clothes. “All clean and ready for the second half. And, more importantly, ready to dish out your next forfeit.”
Adam’s heart sank. He’d been hoping Simon might have forgotten, or that the thrill of victory might have worn off. But no, he was just as eager as ever.
Simon pulled on a pair of boxers and shorts, then turned to face Adam, a wide, wicked grin on his face. “Alright, mate. Forfeit number two. I was thinking… since you got to have a little ‘fun time’ in the shower, it’s only fair that I get to have a little fun time now.”
“What are you talking about?” Adam asked, his voice wary.
Thanks for picking the story up mate! Off to a good (re)start!
Amazing that you’re continuing, can’t wait to discover more
Adam’s stomach twisted into a knot. "No. No fucking way. We didn't agree to anything like that."
"We didn't agree not to, either," Simon countered, his voice smooth and reasonable, which somehow made it worse. "The rules were 'pretty much anything goes.' You had your fun. Now it's my turn. My forfeit. You're going to make me to cum."
The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Adam stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. He felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over him. This was a million times worse than the shower. Simon had been watching with the video camera but it was his own cock for Christ sake. This was up close. Personal. Simon was taking this to a level he hadn’t even yet considered. Felt like a violation.
"You're joking," Adam finally managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper. "That's not a forfeit, that's just... gay."
Simon chuckled. He was still standing there completely naked from his shower, his skin still pink from the heat, his happy trail leading down to a tuft of dark bush peeking out above his towel.
"Mate, it's not about being gay. It's about winning and losing. You lost. These were your rules, remember? I'm the one who gets to call the shots. It's about power. And right now, I have all of it." He let the towel drop to the floor, his thick, cut cock already beginning to stir. "You either do it, or we’ll switch it up and add a third forfeit. And trust me, I can get a lot more creative. Maybe I'll post that video for the team. Or maybe I'll make you walk down to the 24-hour shop for a pint of milk with your cock out. Your choice."
The threat landed like a punch to the gut. Adam knew Simon wasn't bluffing. He was backed into a corner, and the walls were closing in. His own stupid rules had created a monster, and now that monster was demanding its due. He looked at Simon’s body, then up at his smug, expectant face. There was no pity there, no hint of backing down.
Simon walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside him. "Come on. Don't be shy."
Adam stood up on legs that felt like they were made of lead. The baggy clothes Simon had given him felt like a pathetic costume. Each step towards the bed was an act of surrender. He sat down heavily beside Simon, the mattress dipping under his weight, keeping a few inches of space between them. He couldn't bring himself to look at Simon's face, focusing instead on a poster of some band on the wall.
"Good lad," Simon said softly, the condescension in his voice making Adam's skin crawl. He felt Simon shift on the bed, and then a hand was on his wrist, guiding it. "Go on. You know what to do."
Adam closed his eyes, his whole body rigid with protest. He let Simon place his hand directly on his warm, semi-hard cock. It was the most surreal, disgusting moment of his life. His own hand, a part of his own body, was being used as an instrument to pleasure his tormentor.
He started to move his hand, his fingers clumsy and reluctant. His cheeks flushed and he felt a shudder of revulsion, but he forced himself to keep going, his mind a blank wall of static. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to erase the last hour from his life.
"That's it," Simon murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leaned back on his elbows, watching Adam's hand work on his now fully erect shaft. "See? Not so bad, is it?"
"We didn't agree not to, either," Simon countered, his voice smooth and reasonable, which somehow made it worse. "The rules were 'pretty much anything goes.' You had your fun. Now it's my turn. My forfeit. You're going to make me to cum."
The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Adam stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. He felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over him. This was a million times worse than the shower. Simon had been watching with the video camera but it was his own cock for Christ sake. This was up close. Personal. Simon was taking this to a level he hadn’t even yet considered. Felt like a violation.
"You're joking," Adam finally managed to say, his voice a hoarse whisper. "That's not a forfeit, that's just... gay."
Simon chuckled. He was still standing there completely naked from his shower, his skin still pink from the heat, his happy trail leading down to a tuft of dark bush peeking out above his towel.
"Mate, it's not about being gay. It's about winning and losing. You lost. These were your rules, remember? I'm the one who gets to call the shots. It's about power. And right now, I have all of it." He let the towel drop to the floor, his thick, cut cock already beginning to stir. "You either do it, or we’ll switch it up and add a third forfeit. And trust me, I can get a lot more creative. Maybe I'll post that video for the team. Or maybe I'll make you walk down to the 24-hour shop for a pint of milk with your cock out. Your choice."
The threat landed like a punch to the gut. Adam knew Simon wasn't bluffing. He was backed into a corner, and the walls were closing in. His own stupid rules had created a monster, and now that monster was demanding its due. He looked at Simon’s body, then up at his smug, expectant face. There was no pity there, no hint of backing down.
Simon walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside him. "Come on. Don't be shy."
Adam stood up on legs that felt like they were made of lead. The baggy clothes Simon had given him felt like a pathetic costume. Each step towards the bed was an act of surrender. He sat down heavily beside Simon, the mattress dipping under his weight, keeping a few inches of space between them. He couldn't bring himself to look at Simon's face, focusing instead on a poster of some band on the wall.
"Good lad," Simon said softly, the condescension in his voice making Adam's skin crawl. He felt Simon shift on the bed, and then a hand was on his wrist, guiding it. "Go on. You know what to do."
Adam closed his eyes, his whole body rigid with protest. He let Simon place his hand directly on his warm, semi-hard cock. It was the most surreal, disgusting moment of his life. His own hand, a part of his own body, was being used as an instrument to pleasure his tormentor.
He started to move his hand, his fingers clumsy and reluctant. His cheeks flushed and he felt a shudder of revulsion, but he forced himself to keep going, his mind a blank wall of static. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to erase the last hour from his life.
"That's it," Simon murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. He leaned back on his elbows, watching Adam's hand work on his now fully erect shaft. "See? Not so bad, is it?"
"Oi," Simon said, his voice suddenly sharp. Adam flinched but didn't stop. "Look at me."
Slowly, reluctantly, Adam opened his eyes. He forced his gaze away from the wall and down to the scene unfolding on the bed. He saw his own pale, slender hand wrapped around Simon's thick, 7” cut cock, his dark bush trimmed up around the base meeting his hairy swinging balls. The sight was so alien, so wrong, it made his stomach lurch.
"No, not there," Simon commanded. "Look at my face."
Adam's eyes flicked up, finally meeting Simon's. The smirk was gone, replaced by a look of intense, burning concentration. There was a hunger in his eyes that scared Adam more than the gloating had. It was the look of a predator enjoying its kill.
"This is a bit dry, mate," Simon said, his voice dropping to a teasing, condescending tone. "You're not going to get me off like that. Get it wet for me. Go on, spit in your hand."
Adam hesitated, the thought making his stomach turn.
"Or," Simon continued, a wicked glint in his eye, "you could just spit right on it. Your choice." He arched an eyebrow, waiting.
Defeated, Adam pulled his hand back. He gathered a small amount of saliva in his mouth and awkwardly spit into his palm before re-wrapping his fingers around Simon's shaft. The slickness was immediate, and his hand now slid with a friction that made Simon groan in approval.
"That's better," Simon sighed. He leaned back further, propping himself up on more pillows. As Adam's hand began its slick, rhythmic motion again, Simon brought his own hands up to his chest. He started teasing his own nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they were hard points; his cock start drooling pre. The spit was good but mixed with his pre, Adam’s hand continued slipping up and down the length. He watched Adam's face, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the mixture of disgust and resignation in the blonde's eyes.
Then, Simon stretched his arms high above his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck. The movement exposed his body completely, pulling the skin taut over his lean torso and showcasing the dark, damp hair in his armpits. It was a deliberate, animalistic display of dominance and ownership. He was showing off, presenting himself as the victor, and Adam was forced to watch it all as his hand continued its shameful work.
"I said you're going to make me cum," Simon said, his voice a low growl, his arms still raised. "This is just a start. A hand job is for amateurs. I want you to use your mouth."
The words hit Adam like a physical blow. He snatched his hand away as if he'd been burned. "No. Fuck that. No way. That wasn't the deal."
"The deal is that I get to decide the forfeit," Simon shot back, sitting up straight, his arms dropping back to his sides. His hard cock bobbed in the air between them. "And I've decided. You're going to suck me off until I cum. Or we go for forfeit number three. You really want to risk what that is? Because I promise you, it won't be as simple as this."
Adam's mind raced. He thought of the video on the camera; thee threats. He was trapped. Every way out led to even more humiliation. He looked at Simon's cock, then back at his unyielding face. The sheer injustice of it all made him want to scream, but the scream died in his throat, choked by defeat.
He couldn't speak. He just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head, a final, silent plea.
Simon just smiled, a slow, cruel smile. "I'll take that as a yes. On your knees, mate."
Adam's body moved on its own, a puppet with its strings cut. He slid off the bed, his knees hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. He was now eye-level with Simon's erection, the sight of it filling his vision. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the air thick and hard to breathe. He could smell the clean, soapy scent from Simon's shower mixed with the musky, undeniable smell of his arousal.
"Don't just stare at it," Simon said, his voice laced with impatience. "Get to work. And make it good."
Slowly, reluctantly, Adam opened his eyes. He forced his gaze away from the wall and down to the scene unfolding on the bed. He saw his own pale, slender hand wrapped around Simon's thick, 7” cut cock, his dark bush trimmed up around the base meeting his hairy swinging balls. The sight was so alien, so wrong, it made his stomach lurch.
"No, not there," Simon commanded. "Look at my face."
Adam's eyes flicked up, finally meeting Simon's. The smirk was gone, replaced by a look of intense, burning concentration. There was a hunger in his eyes that scared Adam more than the gloating had. It was the look of a predator enjoying its kill.
"This is a bit dry, mate," Simon said, his voice dropping to a teasing, condescending tone. "You're not going to get me off like that. Get it wet for me. Go on, spit in your hand."
Adam hesitated, the thought making his stomach turn.
"Or," Simon continued, a wicked glint in his eye, "you could just spit right on it. Your choice." He arched an eyebrow, waiting.
Defeated, Adam pulled his hand back. He gathered a small amount of saliva in his mouth and awkwardly spit into his palm before re-wrapping his fingers around Simon's shaft. The slickness was immediate, and his hand now slid with a friction that made Simon groan in approval.
"That's better," Simon sighed. He leaned back further, propping himself up on more pillows. As Adam's hand began its slick, rhythmic motion again, Simon brought his own hands up to his chest. He started teasing his own nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger until they were hard points; his cock start drooling pre. The spit was good but mixed with his pre, Adam’s hand continued slipping up and down the length. He watched Adam's face, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the mixture of disgust and resignation in the blonde's eyes.
Then, Simon stretched his arms high above his head, lacing his fingers behind his neck. The movement exposed his body completely, pulling the skin taut over his lean torso and showcasing the dark, damp hair in his armpits. It was a deliberate, animalistic display of dominance and ownership. He was showing off, presenting himself as the victor, and Adam was forced to watch it all as his hand continued its shameful work.
"I said you're going to make me cum," Simon said, his voice a low growl, his arms still raised. "This is just a start. A hand job is for amateurs. I want you to use your mouth."
The words hit Adam like a physical blow. He snatched his hand away as if he'd been burned. "No. Fuck that. No way. That wasn't the deal."
"The deal is that I get to decide the forfeit," Simon shot back, sitting up straight, his arms dropping back to his sides. His hard cock bobbed in the air between them. "And I've decided. You're going to suck me off until I cum. Or we go for forfeit number three. You really want to risk what that is? Because I promise you, it won't be as simple as this."
Adam's mind raced. He thought of the video on the camera; thee threats. He was trapped. Every way out led to even more humiliation. He looked at Simon's cock, then back at his unyielding face. The sheer injustice of it all made him want to scream, but the scream died in his throat, choked by defeat.
He couldn't speak. He just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible shake of his head, a final, silent plea.
Simon just smiled, a slow, cruel smile. "I'll take that as a yes. On your knees, mate."
Adam's body moved on its own, a puppet with its strings cut. He slid off the bed, his knees hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. He was now eye-level with Simon's erection, the sight of it filling his vision. The room suddenly felt incredibly small, the air thick and hard to breathe. He could smell the clean, soapy scent from Simon's shower mixed with the musky, undeniable smell of his arousal.
"Don't just stare at it," Simon said, his voice laced with impatience. "Get to work. And make it good."
Adam knelt on the floor, the rough fibers of the carpet digging into his skin. The world had shrunk to the space between him and Simon, to the hard, imposing length of Simon's cock standing towering before him. The clean, soapy smell from the shower was still there, but it was overpowered by a thicker, musky scent of arousal that made Adam's stomach clench. He could hear his own heartbeat, a frantic, trapped drumming in his ears.
"Go on," Simon's voice was low, a command wrapped in a layer of mocking softness. He shifted on the bed, spreading his legs slightly wider, a gesture of absolute ownership. "You lost the game. You know the rules."
The rules. Adam's stupid, fucking rules. They were a cage he had built himself, and now Simon was locking the door. He thought of the video on the camera, of the smug look on Simon' refused. He thought of the team, of Josh, of the utter, complete ruin that awaited him. There was no choice. There hadn't been a choice for a long time.
He squeezed his eyes shut, took a shaky, silent breath, and leaned forward.
The first touch was electric in its wrongness. The soft, velvety skin of Simon's head against his lips was a sensory overload. It was alien and intimate in a way that made him want to recoil, but he forced himself to stay still. He felt Simon's hand come to rest on the back of his head, not forcing, just resting. The weight of it was heavier than any shove.
"Get it wet," Simon murmured. "Like you did with your hand."
Adam's tongue darted out, a quick, tentative flick. The taste was salty, slightly bitter. It was the taste of defeat. He swirled his tongue around the head, copying what he'd seen in videos he never thought he'd have to replicate in person. As he explored the ridge, a clear, viscous bead of pre-cum welled up from the slit. Adam froze, staring at it. "Lick it up," Simon commanded, his voice a low growl. Hating himself with every fiber of his being, Adam leaned in and dragged his tongue across the tip, scooping the salty fluid into his mouth. It was the first appetizer of his humiliation.
"Good," Simon sighed. "Now show me you mean business. Lick my balls."
Adam’s stomach turned. This was a new level of degradation. He hesitated, and Simon's hand tightened in his hair, a silent, painful reminder. Defeated, he dipped his head lower. He pressed his tongue against the wrinkled, hairy skin of Simon's sac, the texture coarse against his tongue. He lapped at them, first one, then the other, the musky, sweaty taste filling his senses. He felt Simon's heavy balls shift against his face, a testament to the power he held over him.
"Alright, that's enough foreplay," Simon grunted, pulling Adam's head back up by his hair. "Open up and take it properly."
He opened his mouth and slid his lips down over the head. The girth of it stretched his jaw, a strange, full sensation. He moved slowly, awkwardly, his mind screaming in protest while his body obeyed. He tried to take more, but Simon's thick cock hit the back of his throat, and he gagged violently, his eyes watering. Tears of shame and reflex streamed down his cheeks.
"Fuck yeah, choke on it," Simon groaned, clearly enjoying the reaction. He did it again, pushing his hips up, forcing another gag from Adam. Saliva dribbled from the corners of Adam's mouth, mixing with the pre-cum and dripping down his chin. He was a mess.
"Look at me," Simon grunted. "I want you to look at me when I'm using your mouth."
Adam fought the command, but the hand in his hair tightened, pulling just enough to make it clear it wasn't a request. He slowly, reluctantly, opened his eyes. He had to tilt his head back to look up Simon's body, past the heaving chest and the hard stomach, to his face. Simon's expression was one of pure, unadulterated triumph. His eyes were locked on Adam's, burning with intensity. It was the final act of domination: being forced to witness his own submission.
"Stick your tongue in my slit," Simon ordered, his voice husky with lust. "Fuck it with your tongue."
It was the most disgusting command yet. Adam felt a wave of nausea but knew he had no choice. He pulled back just enough to expose the tip and, with a trembling hand, held Simon's shaft steady. He pointed his tongue and pressed it into the tiny, piss-slit at the very tip. He wiggled it, the act so intimate and vile it made him want to vomit. Simon shuddered and moaned, his hips bucking uncontrollably.
The sudden, sharp thrust of Simon's hips forced the thick head of his cock past Adam's gag reflex and deep into his throat. Adam's eyes bulged as his airway was completely blocked. A violent, convulsive heave wracked his body, but Simon's hand clamped down on the back of his head like a vise, holding him in place. Panic flared in Adam's chest, hot and blinding. He couldn't breathe. His hands, which had been resting on Simon's thighs, flew up to push against his hips, a desperate, futile attempt to get free. Simon just groaned, his head thrown back, savoring the spasming muscles of Adam's throat constricting around his cock.
Just as black spots began to dance in Adam's vision, Simon relaxed his grip, allowing him to pull back with a desperate, retching gasp. A thick rope of saliva connected Adam's swollen, bruised lips to the tip of Simon's cock before breaking and dripping onto his chin. He coughed and sputtered, his throat raw and burning, tears and snot streaming down his face.
"Fuck, that's a good look for you," Simon panted, looking down at the ruined mess of his teammate's face. He reached down and wiped a smear of saliva from Adam's cheek with his thumb, then smeared it across Adam's own lips. "Now, get back to it. I'm close."
With a single tear of utter defeat, Adam lowered his head and took Simon back into his mouth. This time, there was no pretense of technique or rhythm. Simon simply took over, his hips pistoning, fucking Adam's face with brutal, shallow thrusts. Adam was just a hole, a warm, wet receptacle for Simon's pleasure.
With a guttural groan, Simon's hips bucked forward. Adam felt the first hot, salty spurt hit the back of his throat. He gagged instinctively, but Simon held him fast, forcing him to take it. Pulse after pulse filled his mouth, and he had no choice but to swallow, the act of submission complete. It was disgusting, degrading, and final.
When Simon was done, he released his grip. Adam pulled back instantly, coughing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stayed on his knees, head bowed, unable to look at anything but the floor. He could taste Simon in his mouth, a lingering reminder of his total defeat. He ran his tongue over his teeth and felt something coarse and foreign. With a sickening lurch of his stomach, he realized it was one of Simon's dark, wiry pubes, stuck there like a trophy from his violation.
Simon leaned back on the bed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He looked down at Adam, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. "Well, that was forfeit number two," he said, his voice casual, as if they'd just finished a game of pool. "And you know what? I think I'm done with FIFA for tonight. But I'm not done with you." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. "Now... about that third forfeit."
"Go on," Simon's voice was low, a command wrapped in a layer of mocking softness. He shifted on the bed, spreading his legs slightly wider, a gesture of absolute ownership. "You lost the game. You know the rules."
The rules. Adam's stupid, fucking rules. They were a cage he had built himself, and now Simon was locking the door. He thought of the video on the camera, of the smug look on Simon' refused. He thought of the team, of Josh, of the utter, complete ruin that awaited him. There was no choice. There hadn't been a choice for a long time.
He squeezed his eyes shut, took a shaky, silent breath, and leaned forward.
The first touch was electric in its wrongness. The soft, velvety skin of Simon's head against his lips was a sensory overload. It was alien and intimate in a way that made him want to recoil, but he forced himself to stay still. He felt Simon's hand come to rest on the back of his head, not forcing, just resting. The weight of it was heavier than any shove.
"Get it wet," Simon murmured. "Like you did with your hand."
Adam's tongue darted out, a quick, tentative flick. The taste was salty, slightly bitter. It was the taste of defeat. He swirled his tongue around the head, copying what he'd seen in videos he never thought he'd have to replicate in person. As he explored the ridge, a clear, viscous bead of pre-cum welled up from the slit. Adam froze, staring at it. "Lick it up," Simon commanded, his voice a low growl. Hating himself with every fiber of his being, Adam leaned in and dragged his tongue across the tip, scooping the salty fluid into his mouth. It was the first appetizer of his humiliation.
"Good," Simon sighed. "Now show me you mean business. Lick my balls."
Adam’s stomach turned. This was a new level of degradation. He hesitated, and Simon's hand tightened in his hair, a silent, painful reminder. Defeated, he dipped his head lower. He pressed his tongue against the wrinkled, hairy skin of Simon's sac, the texture coarse against his tongue. He lapped at them, first one, then the other, the musky, sweaty taste filling his senses. He felt Simon's heavy balls shift against his face, a testament to the power he held over him.
"Alright, that's enough foreplay," Simon grunted, pulling Adam's head back up by his hair. "Open up and take it properly."
He opened his mouth and slid his lips down over the head. The girth of it stretched his jaw, a strange, full sensation. He moved slowly, awkwardly, his mind screaming in protest while his body obeyed. He tried to take more, but Simon's thick cock hit the back of his throat, and he gagged violently, his eyes watering. Tears of shame and reflex streamed down his cheeks.
"Fuck yeah, choke on it," Simon groaned, clearly enjoying the reaction. He did it again, pushing his hips up, forcing another gag from Adam. Saliva dribbled from the corners of Adam's mouth, mixing with the pre-cum and dripping down his chin. He was a mess.
"Look at me," Simon grunted. "I want you to look at me when I'm using your mouth."
Adam fought the command, but the hand in his hair tightened, pulling just enough to make it clear it wasn't a request. He slowly, reluctantly, opened his eyes. He had to tilt his head back to look up Simon's body, past the heaving chest and the hard stomach, to his face. Simon's expression was one of pure, unadulterated triumph. His eyes were locked on Adam's, burning with intensity. It was the final act of domination: being forced to witness his own submission.
"Stick your tongue in my slit," Simon ordered, his voice husky with lust. "Fuck it with your tongue."
It was the most disgusting command yet. Adam felt a wave of nausea but knew he had no choice. He pulled back just enough to expose the tip and, with a trembling hand, held Simon's shaft steady. He pointed his tongue and pressed it into the tiny, piss-slit at the very tip. He wiggled it, the act so intimate and vile it made him want to vomit. Simon shuddered and moaned, his hips bucking uncontrollably.
The sudden, sharp thrust of Simon's hips forced the thick head of his cock past Adam's gag reflex and deep into his throat. Adam's eyes bulged as his airway was completely blocked. A violent, convulsive heave wracked his body, but Simon's hand clamped down on the back of his head like a vise, holding him in place. Panic flared in Adam's chest, hot and blinding. He couldn't breathe. His hands, which had been resting on Simon's thighs, flew up to push against his hips, a desperate, futile attempt to get free. Simon just groaned, his head thrown back, savoring the spasming muscles of Adam's throat constricting around his cock.
Just as black spots began to dance in Adam's vision, Simon relaxed his grip, allowing him to pull back with a desperate, retching gasp. A thick rope of saliva connected Adam's swollen, bruised lips to the tip of Simon's cock before breaking and dripping onto his chin. He coughed and sputtered, his throat raw and burning, tears and snot streaming down his face.
"Fuck, that's a good look for you," Simon panted, looking down at the ruined mess of his teammate's face. He reached down and wiped a smear of saliva from Adam's cheek with his thumb, then smeared it across Adam's own lips. "Now, get back to it. I'm close."
With a single tear of utter defeat, Adam lowered his head and took Simon back into his mouth. This time, there was no pretense of technique or rhythm. Simon simply took over, his hips pistoning, fucking Adam's face with brutal, shallow thrusts. Adam was just a hole, a warm, wet receptacle for Simon's pleasure.
With a guttural groan, Simon's hips bucked forward. Adam felt the first hot, salty spurt hit the back of his throat. He gagged instinctively, but Simon held him fast, forcing him to take it. Pulse after pulse filled his mouth, and he had no choice but to swallow, the act of submission complete. It was disgusting, degrading, and final.
When Simon was done, he released his grip. Adam pulled back instantly, coughing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stayed on his knees, head bowed, unable to look at anything but the floor. He could taste Simon in his mouth, a lingering reminder of his total defeat. He ran his tongue over his teeth and felt something coarse and foreign. With a sickening lurch of his stomach, he realized it was one of Simon's dark, wiry pubes, stuck there like a trophy from his violation.
Simon leaned back on the bed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He looked down at Adam, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face. "Well, that was forfeit number two," he said, his voice casual, as if they'd just finished a game of pool. "And you know what? I think I'm done with FIFA for tonight. But I'm not done with you." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air. "Now... about that third forfeit."
Sorry took a turn but figured it was time to get the cocks out and play with them for once. And I know there's not supposed to be a third forfeit based on the story but we're going with it. Hope you all enjoy 
Adam stayed on his knees, a single, coarse pube from Simon's bush a constant, disgusting reminder on his tongue. He couldn't bring himself to pick it out, the act too intimate, too acknowledging of what had just happened. He just knelt there, head bowed, a broken statue, waiting for the next blow to fall.
Simon, meanwhile, was the picture of relaxed satisfaction. He stretched out on the bed, his spent cock lying against his thigh. He watched Adam with a predator's calm, letting the silence stretch, letting the humiliation soak in. Finally, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, completely naked and unashamed. He walked over to his dresser and grabbed the bottle of lube he kept in the top drawer, holding it up so Adam could see.
"Forfeit number three," Simon announced, his voice casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "You've used your hands and your mouth. Now we're moving on to the main event."
Adam's head snapped up, his eyes wide with a fresh wave of terror. "No," he whispered, the word a ragged, desperate plea. "Simon, no. You can't."
"I can," Simon said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I told you I could get more creative. You lost. You owe me three forfeits. This is the last one. Unless, of course, you want to argue and make it four?" He let the threat hang in the air, knowing it was a checkmate Adam couldn't escape.
"Get on the bed," Simon commanded, pointing with the bottle of lube. "On your hands and knees. Face the wall."
Adam's body moved on its own. He felt disconnected, watching himself from a distance as he shakily got to his feet and climbed onto the bed. The mattress was soft beneath his hands and knees, a cruel comfort. He positioned himself as instructed, facing the poster of the band on the wall, his body trembling uncontrollably. He felt Simon get on the bed behind him, the shift in weight making his stomach lurch.
He heard the slick, wet sound of the lube being squeezed out. Then he felt a cold, wet dollop of it being smeared against his clenched hole. He flinched at the touch, a violent shudder racking his frame.
"Relax, mate," Simon's voice was right behind his ear, a hot, mocking whisper. "This'll go a lot easier if you don't fight it."
Easy for him to say. Adam squeezed his eyes shut, his entire being focused on the single point of violation. He felt a pressure against his entrance, and then Simon's finger, slick and insistent, pushed its way inside. Adam cried out, a muffled sob into the pillow. It burned. It was a deep, intrusive pain that felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.
Simon worked his finger in and out, twisting it, stretching him open. "Tight as a drum," he chuckled. "Guess I'm your first, huh? That's a nice little bonus." He added a second finger, and the burning intensified, stretching Adam wider than he thought possible. Adam just buried his face deeper into the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pained whimpers. He wasn't just being defeated; he was being broken.
After what felt like an eternity, Simon withdrew his fingers. Adam felt a moment of relief, but it was short-lived. He felt Simon shift position, his knees nudging Adam's legs wider apart as Simon's hand landed hard slapping against his bare shaved skin. "Fuck you man" Adam whimpered out. Then he felt the blunt, thick head of Simon's cock press against his slick, loosened hole.
"Last chance to back out," Simon teased, knowing full well Adam couldn't. "Just say the word, and we'll think of something else. Like, maybe I'll keep your clothes here and you'll run down to the corner shop and ask the cashier for a condom."
Adam said nothing. He just lay there, thinking back to the first time he brought up Strip FIFA to Josh thinking it was just a fun way for 2 bros to blow off some steam on and old game; and just a few weeks later he was bent over ass up on Simon’s bed about to take a cock for the first time.
"Didn't think so," Simon grunted, and then he pushed.
The pain was white-hot and blinding. It was a thousand times worse than the fingers. It felt like he was being split in two. Simon's thick cock forced its way past the tight ring of muscle, burying itself deep inside him with one relentless thrust. Adam screamed into the pillow, his entire body convulsing with the shock of it.
Simon paused but just for a beat, enough for Adam to take a deep breath in. And then lunged back, hard enough his balls clapped against Adam as he bottomed out. He started to move quick pulling out and thrusting back in over and over. Each thrust sent a fresh wave of agonizing pain through Adam's body. The bed creaked in rhythm with Simon's pace, the sound a percussive beat to Adam's humiliation. He could hear Simon's grunts of pleasure, hear the slap of skin on skin, and it was all a soundtrack to his own personal hell.
He felt Simon's hands grip his hips, and he slowed after a few minutes Adam’s hole was screaming, another tear falling down his cheek catching Simon’s attention.
Simon slipped his cock out and leaned forward towards Adam his hand meeting Adam’s cheek wiping the tears away. Adam turned meeting Simon’s eyes and they stared for a little too long.
Simon chuckled, “damn mate, you’re good at this. You must like my cock huh?”
Adam smacked Simon hard on his chest. “Flip over, lay on your back”.
Adam obliged, rolling over realizing after all the pain his cock was rock hard and throbbing.
Simon bent down meeting Adam’s cock at eye level and spit hard on it. He opened his lips slightly and took Adam’s full length in sucking hard. Adam’s eyes opened as wide as they could, completely blown away at what was happening.
Simon took Adam into his throat once, twice, three times and came up for air “Nice cock mate, I figured you’ve let me have all the fun, I better return the favor”.
Simon spit in his palm, rubbed his big cock and placed the head back at Adam’s hole; this time taking it slow burying himself inch by inch allowing Adam to adjust to his girth. Both of them smirking as Simon bottomed out again before he picked up the pace.
Adam started pushing back with each thrust, forcing Simon even deeper. "Fuck... you're so tight," Simon panted, his voice thick with lust. “So much better than I imagined." He reached up and wrapped his arm around Adam’s head, shoving his head into Adam’s shoulder as he drove in deep over and over. Their eyes met and Simon leaned in for a kiss, messy and aggressive, all teeth and tongue.
Simon started stroking Adam's cock in time with his thrusts. The stimulation was a confusing, heady rush. The lingering ache was being completely overshadowed by waves of intense, undeniable pleasure. Adam's mind wasn't shattering anymore; it was exploding with a new, fierce desire. He was leaking pre-cum all over his abs. He could feel the pressure building in his own balls, a coiling sensation that was both terrifying and irresistible.
Simon's thrusts continued getting faster, more erratic. He was close. "Gonna cum," he groaned, breaking the kiss to pant against Adam's lips. "Gonna fill you up.”
“Do it” Adam whimpered out.
With a final, powerful slam, he buried himself to the hilt and Adam felt a hot, flooding warmth deep inside him as Simon emptied himself into his ass. The feeling of Simon's cum inside him, combined with the final, hard pull on his own cock, was too much. Adam's orgasm tore through him, a violent, shuddering spasm of pure pleasure. He came hard, spurting across his chest and stomach, a loud cry escaping his lips.
He collapsed onto the bed, his limbs giving out, completely spent. Simon lay on top of him for a moment, his weight heavy, his cock still twitching inside Adam's spent hole. Then he slowly pulled out, leaving Adam feeling empty and leaking.
Adam didn't move. He just lay there in a pool of his own cum and Simon's, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face.
Simon, meanwhile, was the picture of relaxed satisfaction. He stretched out on the bed, his spent cock lying against his thigh. He watched Adam with a predator's calm, letting the silence stretch, letting the humiliation soak in. Finally, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, completely naked and unashamed. He walked over to his dresser and grabbed the bottle of lube he kept in the top drawer, holding it up so Adam could see.
"Forfeit number three," Simon announced, his voice casual, as if he were discussing the weather. "You've used your hands and your mouth. Now we're moving on to the main event."
Adam's head snapped up, his eyes wide with a fresh wave of terror. "No," he whispered, the word a ragged, desperate plea. "Simon, no. You can't."
"I can," Simon said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I told you I could get more creative. You lost. You owe me three forfeits. This is the last one. Unless, of course, you want to argue and make it four?" He let the threat hang in the air, knowing it was a checkmate Adam couldn't escape.
"Get on the bed," Simon commanded, pointing with the bottle of lube. "On your hands and knees. Face the wall."
Adam's body moved on its own. He felt disconnected, watching himself from a distance as he shakily got to his feet and climbed onto the bed. The mattress was soft beneath his hands and knees, a cruel comfort. He positioned himself as instructed, facing the poster of the band on the wall, his body trembling uncontrollably. He felt Simon get on the bed behind him, the shift in weight making his stomach lurch.
He heard the slick, wet sound of the lube being squeezed out. Then he felt a cold, wet dollop of it being smeared against his clenched hole. He flinched at the touch, a violent shudder racking his frame.
"Relax, mate," Simon's voice was right behind his ear, a hot, mocking whisper. "This'll go a lot easier if you don't fight it."
Easy for him to say. Adam squeezed his eyes shut, his entire being focused on the single point of violation. He felt a pressure against his entrance, and then Simon's finger, slick and insistent, pushed its way inside. Adam cried out, a muffled sob into the pillow. It burned. It was a deep, intrusive pain that felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside.
Simon worked his finger in and out, twisting it, stretching him open. "Tight as a drum," he chuckled. "Guess I'm your first, huh? That's a nice little bonus." He added a second finger, and the burning intensified, stretching Adam wider than he thought possible. Adam just buried his face deeper into the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds of his own pained whimpers. He wasn't just being defeated; he was being broken.
After what felt like an eternity, Simon withdrew his fingers. Adam felt a moment of relief, but it was short-lived. He felt Simon shift position, his knees nudging Adam's legs wider apart as Simon's hand landed hard slapping against his bare shaved skin. "Fuck you man" Adam whimpered out. Then he felt the blunt, thick head of Simon's cock press against his slick, loosened hole.
"Last chance to back out," Simon teased, knowing full well Adam couldn't. "Just say the word, and we'll think of something else. Like, maybe I'll keep your clothes here and you'll run down to the corner shop and ask the cashier for a condom."
Adam said nothing. He just lay there, thinking back to the first time he brought up Strip FIFA to Josh thinking it was just a fun way for 2 bros to blow off some steam on and old game; and just a few weeks later he was bent over ass up on Simon’s bed about to take a cock for the first time.
"Didn't think so," Simon grunted, and then he pushed.
The pain was white-hot and blinding. It was a thousand times worse than the fingers. It felt like he was being split in two. Simon's thick cock forced its way past the tight ring of muscle, burying itself deep inside him with one relentless thrust. Adam screamed into the pillow, his entire body convulsing with the shock of it.
Simon paused but just for a beat, enough for Adam to take a deep breath in. And then lunged back, hard enough his balls clapped against Adam as he bottomed out. He started to move quick pulling out and thrusting back in over and over. Each thrust sent a fresh wave of agonizing pain through Adam's body. The bed creaked in rhythm with Simon's pace, the sound a percussive beat to Adam's humiliation. He could hear Simon's grunts of pleasure, hear the slap of skin on skin, and it was all a soundtrack to his own personal hell.
He felt Simon's hands grip his hips, and he slowed after a few minutes Adam’s hole was screaming, another tear falling down his cheek catching Simon’s attention.
Simon slipped his cock out and leaned forward towards Adam his hand meeting Adam’s cheek wiping the tears away. Adam turned meeting Simon’s eyes and they stared for a little too long.
Simon chuckled, “damn mate, you’re good at this. You must like my cock huh?”
Adam smacked Simon hard on his chest. “Flip over, lay on your back”.
Adam obliged, rolling over realizing after all the pain his cock was rock hard and throbbing.
Simon bent down meeting Adam’s cock at eye level and spit hard on it. He opened his lips slightly and took Adam’s full length in sucking hard. Adam’s eyes opened as wide as they could, completely blown away at what was happening.
Simon took Adam into his throat once, twice, three times and came up for air “Nice cock mate, I figured you’ve let me have all the fun, I better return the favor”.
Simon spit in his palm, rubbed his big cock and placed the head back at Adam’s hole; this time taking it slow burying himself inch by inch allowing Adam to adjust to his girth. Both of them smirking as Simon bottomed out again before he picked up the pace.
Adam started pushing back with each thrust, forcing Simon even deeper. "Fuck... you're so tight," Simon panted, his voice thick with lust. “So much better than I imagined." He reached up and wrapped his arm around Adam’s head, shoving his head into Adam’s shoulder as he drove in deep over and over. Their eyes met and Simon leaned in for a kiss, messy and aggressive, all teeth and tongue.
Simon started stroking Adam's cock in time with his thrusts. The stimulation was a confusing, heady rush. The lingering ache was being completely overshadowed by waves of intense, undeniable pleasure. Adam's mind wasn't shattering anymore; it was exploding with a new, fierce desire. He was leaking pre-cum all over his abs. He could feel the pressure building in his own balls, a coiling sensation that was both terrifying and irresistible.
Simon's thrusts continued getting faster, more erratic. He was close. "Gonna cum," he groaned, breaking the kiss to pant against Adam's lips. "Gonna fill you up.”
“Do it” Adam whimpered out.
With a final, powerful slam, he buried himself to the hilt and Adam felt a hot, flooding warmth deep inside him as Simon emptied himself into his ass. The feeling of Simon's cum inside him, combined with the final, hard pull on his own cock, was too much. Adam's orgasm tore through him, a violent, shuddering spasm of pure pleasure. He came hard, spurting across his chest and stomach, a loud cry escaping his lips.
He collapsed onto the bed, his limbs giving out, completely spent. Simon lay on top of him for a moment, his weight heavy, his cock still twitching inside Adam's spent hole. Then he slowly pulled out, leaving Adam feeling empty and leaking.
Adam didn't move. He just lay there in a pool of his own cum and Simon's, a lazy, satisfied smile on his face.
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