- Joined
- Jul 27, 2020
- Posts
- 20
- Media
- 0
- Likes
- 97
- Points
- 123
- Location
- Amsterdam, Netherlands
- Verification
- View
- Sexuality
- 80% Gay, 20% Straight
- Gender
- Male
This is the story of two friends who became lovers. It’s my story.
I’ve met Thomas through a pointless job I had as a student. We became fast and great friends. One lazy summer night, after lots of unexpected drinks in the park, we crossed a line. And never went back. Now, years later I’m trying to piece together what really happend between us.
The air in the room was thick, laden with the scent of beer and the heat of a long summer day. Empty bottles scattered across the coffee table, a testament to the night slipping by. Thomas lay sprawled across the couch, his sun-kissed skin glowing in the dim light. Across from him, Simon slouched in an armchair, his limbs heavy, head swimming with the effects of alcohol.
Thomas took a sip from his beer, missing his mouth, a clumsy giggle escaping him as it splashed onto his shirt. He looked down at the mess with a lazy grin, shrugged, and pulled his shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The silence between them stretched, thick with an unspoken tension.
His eyes traced over Simon slowly, deliberately, moving from the dusting of reddish hair on his arms to the slight fur across his chest, and down to the happy trail disappearing beneath his waistband. Simon’s lips parted slightly, throat bobbing as he swallowed, his eyes locked on Thomas, watching him just as intently.
Thomas shifted on the couch, stretching out, his legs spreading wider as his warm body sank deeper into the cushions. He exhaled slowly, his fingers trailing down his chest, circling one of his hard nipples, mixing the spilled beer with his skin. His eyes never left Simon, his hand moving down his stomach, grazing lightly before dipping beneath his waistband. He teased himself there, unhurried at first, the slow rhythm undeniably deliberate.
A low groan escaped him as his fingers brushed across his cock, already half-hard. He could feel the precum leaking, dampening his briefs. With a lazy grin, Thomas slipped his fingers down his length, gathering the precum that had pooled at the tip. He rubbed it between his fingers, spreading it along the shaft in a slow, deliberate motion, eyes still locked on Simon.
The sound of Thomas’ hand stroking his cock echoed in the quiet room, wet and slick. It filled the space between them. The rhythmic noise, the slick glide of skin on skin, made Simon’s pulse quicken. His own breath grew shallow, his cock twitched as he watched Thomas work himself slowly. The sound was intoxicating, raw, animalistic, and Simon felt his body respond, growing harder with every stroke.
Simon’s grip on his beer tightened, fingers digging into the bottle as he swallowed, throat working as he tried to steady himself. But he couldn’t take his eyes off Thomas, couldn’t stop the flush creeping up his neck as the sound of slick, wet jerking filled his ears. His cock throbbed, and a quiet groan escaped him, barely audible, but Thomas heard it. He gave a sly grin.
Simon’s breath became quick and erratic, eyes glued to Thomas as he stroked his cock, slow and deliberate. The room felt too small, the heat between them too much to bear. Thomas’ hand moved first, slow strokes beneath the fabric, teasing himself in full view of Simon’s heavy gaze. His cock thickened against the material, unmistakable. He tipped his head back lazily, lips parting in a low exhale. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushed his shorts down, baring himself completely. Simon had no choice but to look, to let his eyes linger on Thomas’ thick legs, heavy balls, and meaty cock. Thomas met his gaze again, a slow smirk curling his lips.
“Lose it,” Thomas murmured, giving a little nod towards Simon’s pants. His voice deep with something unspoken, dark and commanding. Simon, too far gone to resist, shifted slowly, deliberately. He stripped himself down, letting the warm air hit his skin. The copper hair on his lower stomach glinted faintly in the dim light. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock. Thomas watched, a slow smirk spreading across his face, lips tight as he groaned low, fingers tightening around his own shaft in response. Thomas’ eyes never left Simon, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he stroked himself long and firm. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the slick drops of precum, then brought it to his mouth, tasting himself.
Thomas spat into his palm, slicking himself up. His muscles tensed, veins in his forearm standing out, chest heaving with every breath. Simon matched his rhythm, hands moving faster, more desperate now. The tension thickened in the air, the room heavy with the stench of sweat and want. The sound of their strokes filled the room, the slick, wet noises of flesh meeting flesh, breaths quickening with every passing second. Thomas groaned again, louder this time, his grip tightening as the pleasure built, the wet noises of his jerking increasing in pace. Simon’s cock twitched at the sound, his own hand moving faster, the rhythmic wet slap of his fist becoming a driving force behind his need.
Thomas shuddered, legs tensing, strokes growing erratic, his moans breaking free, loud and primal. His body tightened, muscles locking, spiraling too fast to stop. Then—his orgasm hit hard. He pulsed in his grip, the first rope of cum landing high on his chest, the second splattering onto his chin, and the third across the floor. The rest spilled down his stomach and thighs as he groaned, body jerking with aftershocks.
Simon exhaled sharply, eyes glued to Thomas as he took it all in. His own hand moved faster, breath catching as he felt the tension building. His body arched, legs lifting off the floor as his orgasm crashed over him, a deep, shuddering release that splattered across his stomach, arm of the chair, and some places still unknown. His body trembled as he rode it out.
Then, silence.
The only sound in the room was the harshness of their breath, uneven and raw. Thomas ran a hand through his damp hair, blinking at the ceiling, a lazy smile curling his lips.
Simon let out a breathless laugh, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well.”
Thomas turned, meeting his gaze. His smirk deepened. “Yeah. Well.”
I’ve met Thomas through a pointless job I had as a student. We became fast and great friends. One lazy summer night, after lots of unexpected drinks in the park, we crossed a line. And never went back. Now, years later I’m trying to piece together what really happend between us.
The air in the room was thick, laden with the scent of beer and the heat of a long summer day. Empty bottles scattered across the coffee table, a testament to the night slipping by. Thomas lay sprawled across the couch, his sun-kissed skin glowing in the dim light. Across from him, Simon slouched in an armchair, his limbs heavy, head swimming with the effects of alcohol.
Thomas took a sip from his beer, missing his mouth, a clumsy giggle escaping him as it splashed onto his shirt. He looked down at the mess with a lazy grin, shrugged, and pulled his shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The silence between them stretched, thick with an unspoken tension.
His eyes traced over Simon slowly, deliberately, moving from the dusting of reddish hair on his arms to the slight fur across his chest, and down to the happy trail disappearing beneath his waistband. Simon’s lips parted slightly, throat bobbing as he swallowed, his eyes locked on Thomas, watching him just as intently.
Thomas shifted on the couch, stretching out, his legs spreading wider as his warm body sank deeper into the cushions. He exhaled slowly, his fingers trailing down his chest, circling one of his hard nipples, mixing the spilled beer with his skin. His eyes never left Simon, his hand moving down his stomach, grazing lightly before dipping beneath his waistband. He teased himself there, unhurried at first, the slow rhythm undeniably deliberate.
A low groan escaped him as his fingers brushed across his cock, already half-hard. He could feel the precum leaking, dampening his briefs. With a lazy grin, Thomas slipped his fingers down his length, gathering the precum that had pooled at the tip. He rubbed it between his fingers, spreading it along the shaft in a slow, deliberate motion, eyes still locked on Simon.
The sound of Thomas’ hand stroking his cock echoed in the quiet room, wet and slick. It filled the space between them. The rhythmic noise, the slick glide of skin on skin, made Simon’s pulse quicken. His own breath grew shallow, his cock twitched as he watched Thomas work himself slowly. The sound was intoxicating, raw, animalistic, and Simon felt his body respond, growing harder with every stroke.
Simon’s grip on his beer tightened, fingers digging into the bottle as he swallowed, throat working as he tried to steady himself. But he couldn’t take his eyes off Thomas, couldn’t stop the flush creeping up his neck as the sound of slick, wet jerking filled his ears. His cock throbbed, and a quiet groan escaped him, barely audible, but Thomas heard it. He gave a sly grin.
Simon’s breath became quick and erratic, eyes glued to Thomas as he stroked his cock, slow and deliberate. The room felt too small, the heat between them too much to bear. Thomas’ hand moved first, slow strokes beneath the fabric, teasing himself in full view of Simon’s heavy gaze. His cock thickened against the material, unmistakable. He tipped his head back lazily, lips parting in a low exhale. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushed his shorts down, baring himself completely. Simon had no choice but to look, to let his eyes linger on Thomas’ thick legs, heavy balls, and meaty cock. Thomas met his gaze again, a slow smirk curling his lips.
“Lose it,” Thomas murmured, giving a little nod towards Simon’s pants. His voice deep with something unspoken, dark and commanding. Simon, too far gone to resist, shifted slowly, deliberately. He stripped himself down, letting the warm air hit his skin. The copper hair on his lower stomach glinted faintly in the dim light. He wrapped his fingers around his own cock. Thomas watched, a slow smirk spreading across his face, lips tight as he groaned low, fingers tightening around his own shaft in response. Thomas’ eyes never left Simon, tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he stroked himself long and firm. He swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the slick drops of precum, then brought it to his mouth, tasting himself.
Thomas spat into his palm, slicking himself up. His muscles tensed, veins in his forearm standing out, chest heaving with every breath. Simon matched his rhythm, hands moving faster, more desperate now. The tension thickened in the air, the room heavy with the stench of sweat and want. The sound of their strokes filled the room, the slick, wet noises of flesh meeting flesh, breaths quickening with every passing second. Thomas groaned again, louder this time, his grip tightening as the pleasure built, the wet noises of his jerking increasing in pace. Simon’s cock twitched at the sound, his own hand moving faster, the rhythmic wet slap of his fist becoming a driving force behind his need.
Thomas shuddered, legs tensing, strokes growing erratic, his moans breaking free, loud and primal. His body tightened, muscles locking, spiraling too fast to stop. Then—his orgasm hit hard. He pulsed in his grip, the first rope of cum landing high on his chest, the second splattering onto his chin, and the third across the floor. The rest spilled down his stomach and thighs as he groaned, body jerking with aftershocks.
Simon exhaled sharply, eyes glued to Thomas as he took it all in. His own hand moved faster, breath catching as he felt the tension building. His body arched, legs lifting off the floor as his orgasm crashed over him, a deep, shuddering release that splattered across his stomach, arm of the chair, and some places still unknown. His body trembled as he rode it out.
Then, silence.
The only sound in the room was the harshness of their breath, uneven and raw. Thomas ran a hand through his damp hair, blinking at the ceiling, a lazy smile curling his lips.
Simon let out a breathless laugh, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well.”
Thomas turned, meeting his gaze. His smirk deepened. “Yeah. Well.”
