Hello, hello! Merry Christmas to y'all! Sorry for the delay but I struggled a bit to get a good enough picture for the character ref. And I only managed to get a clothed one. It seems the AI I found is mainly good for female and Futa character creation. Feel free to experiment and let me know if you managed to get it to work.
Enjoy!
Preview:
"Fucking waste of time." Ryan mumbles under his breath. His gaze sweeps the room full of drunk, high and horny teens dancing and grinding to the loud beat of the music. "I'm so gonna make you pay for this Yuuta." He promises to himself, looking down at his reflection the the murky liquid in his red cup. He raises his head once more, his bored eyes looking for a reason to stay a minute or two longer at this godawful party.
In the corner of his half-lidded, bored eyes, he spots a young man walking towards him. He is tall, 6'0, brown, shaggy hair and piercing blue eyes. He is athletically built, and is holding a cup of beer in each hand as he approaches the femboy. "Hey there. Never seen you here before." He says, clearly hoping to get lucky tonight. The frat boy looks drunk, but weither he is drunk enough to mistake Ryan for a girl or not remains a question for the shorter boy as he glances at the cup, then back at his face with a flat, unimpressed expression. "Probably 'cuz most parties here suck ass. Like this one." He says and turns to leave, his shoulders already angled toward the door.
**************************************
"This better not be some sketchy setup, Adam, alleys and secret knocks scream 'bad decision' in every horror game I've binged." Ryan mutters half under his breath, his red eyes flicking warily to the shadowed corners, but there's a spark of curiosity cutting through the skepticism as the dim bulbs buzz overhead like angry insects, casting jittery pools of yellow light on the peeling paint of the stairwell.
"Trust me." Just as he says that, the heavy door swings open and a goth girl with black-dyed hair falling in choppy layers around her pierced lip, steps out. Ryan hangs back a step, arms crossed loosely over his chest as the girl sizes the two of them up with an appraising stare. "Hey, you're back! Who's that? New blood?" She says with a crooked grin, her voice carrying a raspy edge from too many late nights, black nail polish chipping on her fingers as she holds the door wider.
"You better believe it, yeah. Found Ryan here at a party and knew he'd want to see this place." Adam replies, his tone is casual and friendly, the kind one would have with an old friend.
Ryan shoots her a quick nod, polite but distant, his lips pressing into a neutral line while his wild bangs drip a stray water bead down his temple. "Ryan." He says quietly, simply, not volunteering more as she waves them in with a theatrical flourish, her combat boots thudding against the worn floorboards. He follows Adam and the girl through the metallic door, a long corridor stretching before them with walls alive with faded band posters, Nirvana peeling at the edges, some underground metal acts Ryan has streamed on obscure playlists, interspersed with glowing neon graffiti that pulses in sync with a low electronic hum vibrating through the floor.
They reach another door at the end of the corridor. The girl and Adam share a nod before she pushes through. The place is a massive room exploding into view with rows of VR rigs glowing under strips of RGB lights strung across the exposed rafters. The air buzzes electric, thick with the sharp tang of heated circuits and energy drinks cracked open on side tables cluttered with controllers and half-eaten snacks, while shouts erupt from players locked in their haptic suits, grunts of frustration mixing with triumphant whoops as virtual explosions flicker across translucent screens. Ryan freezes for a beat, his intense gaze sweeping the setup, taking in the high-end headsets humming softly, the ergonomic chairs vibrating with feedback, and clusters of people gesturing wildly mid-air, their bodies twitching like they're dodging bullets in some post-apoc shooter. "No fucking way!" The words slip out low and genuine, his guarded posture loosening as he steps forward, drawn to a nearby station where a guy in a full-body suit is slamming haptic gloves together, mimicking a melee takedown that makes the floor panels thrum faintly. "This is legit? An underground VR arena?" He turns to Adam, he stern expression cracking into something closer to a real smirk, red eyes lighting up under the neon wash as he absorbs the chaos.
"Yup." Adam says, a big shit eating grin on his face. "Told you to trust me, didn't I?"
****************************
The drive back is quieter, the purr of the McLaren’s engine now a familiar backdrop to the rhythm of the wipers sweeping away the lingering drizzle. Ryan stares out the window at the blurred city lights, his reflection ghostly in the glass, thinking about that receipt as Adam pulls up to his building, a sleek, modern structure with a glass façade and discreet, recessed lighting. The trap lets out a low, quiet whistle through his teeth. “Decent enough apartment.” Adam says, and a dry, amused huff escapes Ryan as he unbuckles and slides out, his sneakers hitting pavement still glossy from rain. “Yeah, if ‘decent’ means ‘looks like a tech billionaire’s zen cave.’” He mutters under her breath, though there’s no real bite to it, just observation.
Adam chuckles at his comment. "Fair point. I suppose I got used to stuff like this." He heads inside and the other teen follows close behind. Inside, the lobby alone makes the broke college student pause, polished concrete floors, a minimalist sculpture in the center, and the faint, clean scent of lemongrass and sandalwood in the air. No peeling paint or sticky floors here. The elevator ride is smooth and silent, and when they reach the apartment and the door swings open, the pair steps into a space that feels more like a high-end magazine spread than a place someone actually lives. Everything is open concept, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sprawling view of the city’s glittering grid below, the lights blurred by the residual mist on the glass. The furniture is all low-profile, modern lines, a charcoal gray sectional, a glass coffee table, a state-of-the-art sound system mounted on a floating shelf. It’s intensely clean, almost sterile, and wildly different from Ryan's cluttered dorm with its band posters and cable chaos.
“Make yourself at home. Mi casa is su casa and all that shit.” Adam says with a smile. Ryan offers a half-shrug in response, his damp shirt clinging to his back as he takes few steps further in. “Bathroom’s that way.” He adds, pointing down a short hallway with a sleek, barn-style door.
Ryan nods, shifting his weight. “Cool.” his voice comes out even, but his eyes are still taking inventory, the kitchen with its marble countertops and appliances he's only seen in ads, and the abstract art on the walls that probably costs more than his tuition. He heads toward the bathroom, then pauses, glancing back over his shoulder with a pointed look, his red eyes holding Adam's piercing blue ones. “I catch you peeping...” He says, his tone flat but a faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth betraying the humor beneath the threat. “This place becomes a murder crime scene. Just FYI.” It’s delivered with enough deadpan seriousness to sell the warning, but the hint of joke is there, lingering in the space between them like the echo of their earlier gaming banter.
"If it's the last thing I do, I think I'll be fine with that." Adam shoots back, shaking his head with a small laugh. He pops the cork off a tall bottle of wine and pours himself a drink.
"Ha, fucking ha."
********************************
"G-go easy on me, would you?" The young anal virgin pleads, his cracking halfway as he tries hide his nervousness. The femboy doesn't reply right away, instead, he crouches behind him. "Relax and take notes, Adam." He says, his flat but not without a hint of amusement. "I'm gonna show you a whole new world." Then he leans in, closing the small distance, and presses a soft, closed-mouth kiss right against the virgin rim, the contact is gentle, almost chaste at first, just a warm brush of Ryan's lips against the sensitive, puckered skin.
Adam tenses in reaction, he shudders, his hands splaying against the glass as the femboy begins peppering his hole with a series of slow, deliberate kisses, each one lingering a bit longer, his breath warming the area between pecks.
Ryan takes his time, savoring the way the jock's muscles flutter under his mouth, the subtle shifts of his hips, the soft, choked sounds he’s trying to hold back, his parted lips, his clenched jaw, the flutter of his eyelids, as he slowly applies more pressure with his tongue, tracing light circles around his rim without breaching yet.
"Uurghh, fuck!" The buildup is deliberate, methodical, his nose nudging against the spot right above his hole as his tongue flattens and pushes more insistently against Adam's tight ring. The frat boy's moan finally breaks free, a low, ragged sound that vibrates through the glass under his palms as the femboy finally slip his wet tongue inside him, just the tip at first, breaching that resistant muscle with slow, persistent pressure. The sensation is intense, the velvety walls clamping around Ryan's tongue, as Adam's whole body jerks forward and arches back against the trap's face, his fingers leaving smeared prints on the rain-streaked window.
The petite boy works his tongue deeper in shallow, rhythmic thrusts, exploring the jock's inner tunnel with careful sweeps, his hands still spreading his cheeks wide to keep him open and accessible, as his own cock throbs heavily between his thighs, neglected but leaking steadily onto the rug beneath him. He curls his tongue, seeking that spot he found with his finger earlier, and when he brushes against it, his knees buckle visibly, a choked cry tearing from Adam's throat that makes Ryan hum approvingly against his ass. "Good boy." He teases, as he pulls back just enough to breathe, and glances up at the crumbling boy's reflection, his face flushed and eyes screwed shut, his mouth open in a silent gasp. "You're doing great, Adam." He murmurs, before diving back in, his tongue plunging deeper now that Adam's relaxed into the intrusion, the rhythm becoming more fluid, more confident.
After another minute of ass-eating, Ryan pulls back from Adam's rim with a final, lingering swirl of his tongue, and rises smoothly to his feet behind him, his knees popping faintly while his proud, boi-cock stands rigid, veins pulsing with the pent-up ache from all the teasing, the uncut foreskin pulled taut over the flushed head that's slick with precum, brushing heavy against the back of Adam's thighs as he positions himself. "Stand still for a second, dude." He says and hawks a thick glob of spit directly onto his hole, watching it land with a wet gleam on the puckered ring that's already glistening from the femboy's mouth. He then grips the base of his over-eager monster cock with one hand and thwacks the underside of his fat meat right against Adam's exposed ring, making him yelp in surprise. He does it once THWAP, twice THWAP, the heavy slaps echoing softly in the apartment, the impact sending a jolt through the boy, making him flinch hard with each cock-smack, his whole body jerking forward against the chilled glass with a muffled thud, as his heart spikes and his muscles lock up, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged pulls that fog the windowpane in erratic bursts.