Paul spent the afternoon watching football at the local grounds. He liked the game well enough, but what really kept his attention were the muscular young men sprinting around the oval in their tight shorts. Every now and then, one would catch his eye—lean, sweaty, thighs like tree trunks—and Paul would feel that familiar throb of arousal stir below his waistband.
After the match, he ducked into the restroom and noticed something scrawled on the wall that hadn’t been there before. Need BJ. Call 0412 356 789.
His breath hitched. Restroom graffiti had always turned him on, but this? This was something else. His cock swelled instantly, rock hard in his jeans. He looked down at his thick, throbbing member winking up at him, gave it a slow, teasing stroke, imagining the daddy who’d left that message, desperate for a mouth on him.
He saved the number in his phone; his fingers slick with sweat. Adrenaline surged through his body, making his hand tremble so much the phone nearly slipped from his grip. Still, he managed to type out a message: I need a blowjob.
On impulse, he unzipped his jeans, pulled out his aching cock, and snapped a quick photo—thick, flushed, and dripping at the tip. He attached it to the message, hit Send, and stared at the screen for a moment, heart pounding.
As he stepped out of the restroom, he whispered a silent prayer under his breath: Please let him reply.
The reply came almost instantly. Paul’s throat burned, his chest heaved, and the adrenaline-fuelled tremors returned with force. The message read: Need to be discreet. Have a girlfriend.
A moment later, another image arrived—a selfie. Paul’s breath caught. The guy looked to be in his mid-twenties, still in his football uniform, dark hair damp with sweat, a cocky half-smile on his lips. He was exactly the kind of man Paul had been fantasising about all afternoon.
I can be discreet, Paul replied, fingers still shaking.
Within seconds, the next message came through—an address.
As Paul stepped inside, he was immediately struck by the scent of sandalwood and raw armpit musk—it hit him like a wave, masculine and intoxicating.
The young man stood in the hallway, shifting slightly on his feet. “I’m Theo,” he said, his voice low and a little uncertain.
He looked nervous, but his eyes betrayed something else—hunger. He sat on the couch, legs spread just slightly, and the energy in the room shifted. Thick with anticipation. Theo stared at Paul with open sexual longing, and after a brief moment of silence, he gestured for him to come closer.
Paul didn’t hesitate. He moved toward him, already aching to touch and be touched.
Theo placed a hand over Paul’s bulge, slowly caressing it through the fabric. He leaned in, pressing his face to the crotch, inhaling deeply. His eyes fluttered closed like he was high on the scent.
Without a word, he tugged down Paul’s shorts, revealing a damp patch in his underwear where precum had pooled. Theo ran a finger through the sticky spot, brought it to his lips, and sucked it clean—eyes locked on Paul the whole time.
Then, as Paul stepped out of his underwear, Theo snatched them up and inspected the soaked fabric. His tongue darted out, licking the patch greedily, slurping up every drop he could. He inhaled the scent deeply, like it grounded him.
When he looked up again, that same cocky expression from the photo spread across his face—hungry, confident, and ready for more.
Before long, Paul was sitting naked, legs spread wide, while Theo—also stripped bare—knelt between his thighs. He didn’t wait another second. Theo leaned in and took Paul’s cock into his mouth, groaning softly at the first taste.
The sheer size of it made him pause for a moment, precum salty on his tongue. Then he began moving—slow at first, lips gliding up and down the thick shaft, struggling not to gag as Paul’s cock hit the back of his throat. One hand gripped the base while the other gently cupped and caressed Paul’s balls, rolling them slowly in his palm.
“Mmm, yeah… squeeze those balls,” Paul muttered, voice barely more than a whisper.
His eyes fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped his lips—a sound that came out more like a whimper. He placed his hands on Theo’s head, running his fingers through his hair with surprising tenderness, encouraging him, guiding him.
Theo stroked his own cock while he sucked Paul’s, desperate to feed off the moment, to lose himself in it. He kept edging closer to orgasm, dangerously close—but he knew if he came now, it would ruin his rhythm, kill the high he was riding. So, he held back, gritting his teeth, focusing instead on Paul’s growing urgency.
He could feel it—Paul was close. If it weren’t for the fact that Theo’s girlfriend would be home soon, and that he was so fucking hungry for a hot load, he might’ve slowed down, drawn it out. But not tonight.
Instead, he kept the pace steady and deep, bracing himself for that divine moment.
“Ah—yeah, I’m getting close,” Paul moaned, voice loud and raw, eyes squeezed shut, his hand still guiding Theo with gentle, possessive pressure.
Theo just grunted in response, mouth full, eyes blazing.
Paul erupted like a volcano. He let out a series of loud, guttural grunts, his whole body jerking with each pulse. His hand stayed locked on the back of Theo’s head, holding him in place, making sure every thick, hot spurt of cum shot straight into his mouth.
Theo moaned softly as he felt the semen hit the back of his throat—spurt after spurt, salty and warm. His own cock throbbed between his thighs, red and slick from how hard he’d been edging. His abs tensed as he fought the urge to cum himself, his balls heavy and aching from restraint.
He didn’t move until Paul finally slumped back, spent and satisfied, chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths. Only then did Theo lift his head. His lips glistened, his cheeks flushed, and his toned chest rose with a shallow breath.
He looked up at Paul, eyes smouldering. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he swished the cum in his mouth, showing Paul he still held it—and swallowed it in one long gulp, never breaking eye contact.
“I’m hoping we can make this a regular thing,” Theo said, casually pulling his shorts back on as he walked Paul to the door. “I wanna start some kind of… dependency.”
There was a glint in his eye—playful, but with an edge of seriousness that made Paul’s stomach flutter.
Paul nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
Theo smirked, his bare chest still glistening with sweat. “Good. I like knowing you’ll be aching for it.”
After the match, he ducked into the restroom and noticed something scrawled on the wall that hadn’t been there before. Need BJ. Call 0412 356 789.
His breath hitched. Restroom graffiti had always turned him on, but this? This was something else. His cock swelled instantly, rock hard in his jeans. He looked down at his thick, throbbing member winking up at him, gave it a slow, teasing stroke, imagining the daddy who’d left that message, desperate for a mouth on him.
He saved the number in his phone; his fingers slick with sweat. Adrenaline surged through his body, making his hand tremble so much the phone nearly slipped from his grip. Still, he managed to type out a message: I need a blowjob.
On impulse, he unzipped his jeans, pulled out his aching cock, and snapped a quick photo—thick, flushed, and dripping at the tip. He attached it to the message, hit Send, and stared at the screen for a moment, heart pounding.
As he stepped out of the restroom, he whispered a silent prayer under his breath: Please let him reply.
The reply came almost instantly. Paul’s throat burned, his chest heaved, and the adrenaline-fuelled tremors returned with force. The message read: Need to be discreet. Have a girlfriend.
A moment later, another image arrived—a selfie. Paul’s breath caught. The guy looked to be in his mid-twenties, still in his football uniform, dark hair damp with sweat, a cocky half-smile on his lips. He was exactly the kind of man Paul had been fantasising about all afternoon.
I can be discreet, Paul replied, fingers still shaking.
Within seconds, the next message came through—an address.
As Paul stepped inside, he was immediately struck by the scent of sandalwood and raw armpit musk—it hit him like a wave, masculine and intoxicating.
The young man stood in the hallway, shifting slightly on his feet. “I’m Theo,” he said, his voice low and a little uncertain.
He looked nervous, but his eyes betrayed something else—hunger. He sat on the couch, legs spread just slightly, and the energy in the room shifted. Thick with anticipation. Theo stared at Paul with open sexual longing, and after a brief moment of silence, he gestured for him to come closer.
Paul didn’t hesitate. He moved toward him, already aching to touch and be touched.
Theo placed a hand over Paul’s bulge, slowly caressing it through the fabric. He leaned in, pressing his face to the crotch, inhaling deeply. His eyes fluttered closed like he was high on the scent.
Without a word, he tugged down Paul’s shorts, revealing a damp patch in his underwear where precum had pooled. Theo ran a finger through the sticky spot, brought it to his lips, and sucked it clean—eyes locked on Paul the whole time.
Then, as Paul stepped out of his underwear, Theo snatched them up and inspected the soaked fabric. His tongue darted out, licking the patch greedily, slurping up every drop he could. He inhaled the scent deeply, like it grounded him.
When he looked up again, that same cocky expression from the photo spread across his face—hungry, confident, and ready for more.
Before long, Paul was sitting naked, legs spread wide, while Theo—also stripped bare—knelt between his thighs. He didn’t wait another second. Theo leaned in and took Paul’s cock into his mouth, groaning softly at the first taste.
The sheer size of it made him pause for a moment, precum salty on his tongue. Then he began moving—slow at first, lips gliding up and down the thick shaft, struggling not to gag as Paul’s cock hit the back of his throat. One hand gripped the base while the other gently cupped and caressed Paul’s balls, rolling them slowly in his palm.
“Mmm, yeah… squeeze those balls,” Paul muttered, voice barely more than a whisper.
His eyes fluttered shut as a soft moan escaped his lips—a sound that came out more like a whimper. He placed his hands on Theo’s head, running his fingers through his hair with surprising tenderness, encouraging him, guiding him.
Theo stroked his own cock while he sucked Paul’s, desperate to feed off the moment, to lose himself in it. He kept edging closer to orgasm, dangerously close—but he knew if he came now, it would ruin his rhythm, kill the high he was riding. So, he held back, gritting his teeth, focusing instead on Paul’s growing urgency.
He could feel it—Paul was close. If it weren’t for the fact that Theo’s girlfriend would be home soon, and that he was so fucking hungry for a hot load, he might’ve slowed down, drawn it out. But not tonight.
Instead, he kept the pace steady and deep, bracing himself for that divine moment.
“Ah—yeah, I’m getting close,” Paul moaned, voice loud and raw, eyes squeezed shut, his hand still guiding Theo with gentle, possessive pressure.
Theo just grunted in response, mouth full, eyes blazing.
Paul erupted like a volcano. He let out a series of loud, guttural grunts, his whole body jerking with each pulse. His hand stayed locked on the back of Theo’s head, holding him in place, making sure every thick, hot spurt of cum shot straight into his mouth.
Theo moaned softly as he felt the semen hit the back of his throat—spurt after spurt, salty and warm. His own cock throbbed between his thighs, red and slick from how hard he’d been edging. His abs tensed as he fought the urge to cum himself, his balls heavy and aching from restraint.
He didn’t move until Paul finally slumped back, spent and satisfied, chest rising and falling in slow, deep breaths. Only then did Theo lift his head. His lips glistened, his cheeks flushed, and his toned chest rose with a shallow breath.
He looked up at Paul, eyes smouldering. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he swished the cum in his mouth, showing Paul he still held it—and swallowed it in one long gulp, never breaking eye contact.
“I’m hoping we can make this a regular thing,” Theo said, casually pulling his shorts back on as he walked Paul to the door. “I wanna start some kind of… dependency.”
There was a glint in his eye—playful, but with an edge of seriousness that made Paul’s stomach flutter.
Paul nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
Theo smirked, his bare chest still glistening with sweat. “Good. I like knowing you’ll be aching for it.”
