Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.
Chapter 2: Chore Boy
At practice, Ryder treated me like he always had, maybe even more “normally” than usual. He ran drills beside me and complained about the conditioning sets and in the showers he stood under his showerhead with his eyes closed, same as always, but no smirk, and no knowing glances at me. Just Ryder being Ryder, easy in his skin, unbothered by the whole world.
I quickly developed a small theory over the first few days. He had confirmed the thing he'd suspected about me, and he hadn’t been worried about it. And now we had a little secret between us. When we were all standing around in various states of nudity after practice, toweling off, talking about things, he knew exactly what was going on in my head. And he was completely fine with it. That ease of his, that total comfort, extended to me now in a new way. It was almost like being accepted.
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Within two weeks it had become a pattern so established it didn't need to be discussed. Most afternoons after school I would end up at his place. He would strip down to his underwear, never fully naked for some reason. I would drop my laptop and notebooks on his desk or his bed and he would pull them toward himself and get started, and I would get to work on my end of the arrangement, removing his underwear and slobbering on his body, licking the most boy-smelling parts of him I could. I had no limits, and he didn’t seem to have any restrictions on what I could do.
He was on his side mostly, or his stomach, phone in hand or laptop open, sometimes writing in a notebook, doing his thing while I did mine. Sometimes it was straightforward. Sometimes I would work my way around his body slowly, hands and mouth, taking my time on his thighs, his stomach, the crease where his legs met his balls.
Sometimes he would angle his body a bit so my head would end up down toward his balls, and I would take them into my mouth and just keep them there, both of them resting warm and heavy on my tongue, stretching my lips, and I would hold that position for several minutes while he scrolled through whatever he was looking at, my eyes closed, my brain gooned. Those were the sessions I thought about most afterward. There was something meditative about it. Something that bypassed thinking entirely.
He barely reacted during any of it. A little tension in his thighs when he was getting close. A breath that changed in volume. When he finished he would go still for a moment, and then his should would erupt wildly into my mouth for a minute, before he would go back to whatever he was doing. And that was it. I had never had a sexual experience like it in my life. I was fully gooned from the arrangement and I knew it.
—[]—
A few weeks passed, and I was wondering if he would ever get bored of our arrangement. He never said anything about it at all. We didn’t discuss it. I just pushed boundaries, and as long as I had given him homework to copy, he received my lips and tongue wherever I found cause to put them.
Then testing season ended, and the workload thinned out, and one afternoon I came over with nothing for him to copy.
He didn't seem bothered. He just turned on a game and lay back on the couch. I settled in beside him and after a few minutes I reached for his waistband. He rolled away from me, smooth and unhurried. I waited a beat and reached again. He put his hand over mine and moved it off without looking away from the screen.
I sat back. I felt the frustration move through my chest like something physical.
He scratched the back of his neck. "I told my mom I'd hose down the back deck before she got home."
I was already standing up before he finished the sentence. I went out back and found the hose and had the whole deck done in minutes, moving fast, feeling something in my chest that took me a second to identify as joy.
When I came back inside he had relocated to the couch and removed most of his clothes. I watched his rippling back with as much excitement as if it were the first time I were gazing at it. He was in just his boxer briefs, the tight, red pair that I secretly liked the most. Maybe he knew they were the sexiest ones.
He was propped up on one elbow with his phone in his hand, his legs loose, the fabric of his underwear doing nothing to downplay the mound of flesh underneath it. He adjusted himself once, shifting his muscular weight, and did not look up.
I crossed the room and got onto the couch beside him and brought my face down to his lap. He lay on his back while I dug my nose into his bulge, breathing in through the aroma of cotton and warmth and the specific smell of Ryder’s balls after a practice and a shower and an afternoon on his couch. I mouthed at him through the fabric, feeling the weight of him shift under my lips as he started to stiffen.
"You like that?" he said.
It was an honest question. He actually wanted to know. He had seen me do it for weeks at this point, but now he was suddenly curious.
"Yeah," I said, without lifting my face from where it was, deep in his man funk.
He was quiet for a second. Then he reached down and grabbed the back of my head and lifted his legs at the same time, pulling his underwear down and exposing his ass for me. He pushed my face directly between his muscular butt cheeks.
"Eat my hairy ass," he said, but my tongue was already dug way in there.
His ass was not very hairy. It was smooth with just a little fuzz, barely anything, but I registered the gap between what he said and what was actually there. It was hot that he thought of this in a degrading way. I pressed in and worked fast circles with my tongue like I was lapping up ice cream, and I felt him shift his weight to give me better access.
"Lick my balls," he said, in the same tone.
I moved up and took them into my mouth one at a time and then together, and he made a low sound and his thighs tensed on either side of my head. He was saying the things guys always said to each other as a taunt, the things meant to be degrading, and I was actually doing all of them, and he knew I loved it. There was a joke somewhere within the dynamic, and I was in on it, in a weird way.
He reached down and grabbed my hair and pulled my face back to his ass, laughing a little, sort of just light-hearted, even as his big dick throbbed with the stimulation I was giving him. He was having fun. That was new, and it was good.
He was hard, fully, pressing against his own stomach. He let it sit there and throb while he steered me around with one hand.
He pulled my head up further, all the way up to his armpit, and pressed my face into it. I went with it and wrapped an arm around his torso, basically dry humping his naked body, latched on while I pressed my lips against the muscles of his arm. I slid my tongue down to the hairy armpit and tasted the difference. It was a concentrated spot of pure boyhood. I worked my way across his chest to the other side and licked his second pit clean as well, groping him along the way, gently pressing my boner into him, if only for the calming relief it gave my otherwise aching hard-on.
I licked down the center of him, feeling his abs contract under my mouth as I moved south. He let me kiss along the cut of his hip and mouth at the base of his girthy pole without pushing down, which meant he was enjoying the tease as much as I was. Then his hand found my head again and redirected me back down to his ass, laughing quietly, at himself, or at me, or at the whole situation.
"Back to work," he said as I dug my tongue into his hole, pushing deep and feeling his body tense against my tongue. He held my head firmly and ground my face into him. He liked it as much as he liked watching me do it.
He let me go for a long time. My jaw ached and I kept going. At some point he pushed himself up off the couch and got up onto his knees, and I felt the shift in weight, and then he swung his leg over me, pushing my body back, and I fell flat, and he was above me, his large cock hovering over me. He settled his weight over my face and pressed down, balls and the base of his shaft resting across my mouth, and it was intense feeling the pressure come from him instead of just licking him myself. I ran my tongue around everything I could reach.
He tensed his thick thighs as he dragged his ass and balls across my face, almost chuckling while he did it, one hand braced on the arm of the couch, looking down at me. I said "yum" out loud without meaning to at all, and he laughed for a second.
Then he shifted forward and pressed the meaty head of his dick into my mouth, saying, "Take my spunk."
I felt his hips start to move under my palms as his girth pressed into me in short, controlled thrusts, his hand finding the back of my head, and this was different from everything else had been, this was the most like actual sex anything had ever felt, his weight above me and his hands on me and my mouth being stuffed with his meat. I was almost scared for a second, having lost control of the situation, or maybe because I was suddenly realizing that I never had any control in the first place.
At the height of the adrenaline rush, without thinking about it, I reached down into my own pants and wrapped my hand around myself, barely moving, mostly just holding on tightly, because I was already so close it only took the pressure of my own grip to get there.
He watched me. I could feel his eyes on my face, even as my vision got blurry from my eyes beginning to water, my throat starting to stretch.
His thighs tightened on either side of my head and he pushed in once more, and held it there.
I felt the pulse of him, the heat of his release hitting the back of my throat, and I swallowed and kept swallowing, while my jaw was held open by cock, and somewhere in the middle of that, I finished in my pants without moving my hand at all.
He stayed where he was for a moment, breathing. Then he pulled back and sat up. He reached for his underwear off the floor.
I lay on my back on the couch looking at the TV, not registering at all what was on it, clearing my throat and coughing and catching my breath. I was still fully dressed.
"I should probably make a chores list,” he said.
"You can have one ready for me," I replied quickly, still looking at the TV. "Like. Tomorrow."
He looked at me.
"Why not right now?"