Alfie walked past Max through the short entryway into the main room of the apartment where he found Bruiser lounging on a couch that looked like it was made of denim. He had abeer in one hand and his baseball cap on backward—the perfect picture of a guy named Bruiser.
“Yo, cum dump,” he said, raising the can to Alfie in a friendly salute. “Thank fuck you’re here.” He dropped his non-beer hand to his lap and squeezed his package lasciviously. His sweats were full length, and he was wearing a t-shirt, but his guns were on display, reminding Alfie about what Bruiser had said he wanted to do to him.
“I didn’t know he’d be here too,” Alfie said to Max.
“What, you thought it’d be just you and me? It’s not adate.”
Alfie had a little bit been thinking of it as a date.
“Don’t worry,” Max said. “We’re not going to tear your ass up too bad. Bruiser would rather get sucked off.”
“Iamgoing to tear his ass up though,” Bruiser said, giving his package another squeeze. “Can’t fucking wait.”
“Yeah, well, hold off a fucking minute. Lemme be a good host first. Can I take your coat?” Max snickered like he didn’t mean it, but Alfie was getting hot standing there in his coat, so he removed it and draped it over the back of a second couch, this one upholstered in what looked like corduroy.
“Get the little man a beer,” Bruiser suggested.
Max went to the refrigerator and came back with a can, which he handed to Alfie. Alfie popped the top and took a swallow. It was cheap but cold, and he was uncertain about this situation. Between Bruiser and Max, they probably tripled his weight. He was kind of helpless here.
“All right then.” Max slapped Alfie on the back, causing a few drops of beer to spill out of the can onto the stained beige carpet. “Preliminaries over, let’s get to it.”
“He spilled beer on your carpet,” Bruiser pointed out.
Max shrugged. “Whatever.”
“No, he spilled beer on your carpet. He ought to be punished for it.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, sure. Do your thing. I can wait.”
Max settled himself on the corduroy couch, spreading his legs so wide Alfie figured he could probably get a peek at Max’s cock if he got down on the floor and tried. For all his shenanigans in the locker room, Max’s cock was the one he’d somehow never managed to get a clear look at.
“Come here, cum dump,” Bruiser said.
Alfie scowled. He didn’t like that term.
“Are you making a face at me? Max, he’s making a face at me. That’s gotta be extra punishment, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Max agreed easily.
“Also, I told him to come over here and he didn’t.”
“That’s a paddling,” Max said, which Alfie figured was a Simpson’s reference, but what if it wasn’t? Being spanked by Bruiser sounded scary enough. He doubted he would survive being paddled by Bruiser, so he crossed the living room to put himself in front of Bruiser’s couch.
Hecouldjust leave. He glanced over his shoulder at the direction he’d come from. He could turn around and walk out. They probably wouldn’t stop him. He could quit this job, tell Coach to shove it. And if Coach wouldn’t take off the cage, he would… he would go to administration. Obviously staff wasn’t allowed to put students’ dicks in cages.
He kind of wanted Max to fuck him, though, and he didn’t mind giving Bruiser a blowjob either. But shit, he hadn’t thought about the fact that if Max fucked him, then Max would see the cage and know what Coach had done to him. He was wearing a jock again, so if he kept it on, then—
Bruiser didn’t give him time to work through the question of whether or not he wanted this to happen and how exactly he would make sure no one saw the cage if it did. He yanked Alfie’s track pants down, then stared at the jock under it.
“What you got going on in there?” he asked, but it seemed like he knew because he didn’t wait for an answer. Alfie’s jock went the way of his pants, then Bruiser spun him around so he was facing the other couch. “Hey, Max, check it out. Coach has the cum dump locked up already.”
Max was watching SportsCenter and didn’t bother to actually look. “Just as well,” he said. “Don’t need his dick touching anything, least of all me.”
“I guess,” Bruiser agreed. “It’s kind of uncomfortable though.”
“Who cares if he’s uncomfortable?”
“I meant for me. Digs into my thigh.”
