Now, I’m sitting at the edge of my mother’s bed in my sexiest briefs waiting on my randy boyfriend to join me for what is sure to be a rare and undocumented experience. Despite my recent orgasm, my prick is intrigued enough by Adam’s proposal to sit up and pay attention. What will he surprise me with? A French maid costume perhaps? A leather harness and mask? Just as I’m beginning to get antsy, the man of the hour strolls into the bedroom with an abundance of swagger, dressed in what can only be his Pigeon Forge Pirates’ baseball uniform with a wooden bat slung casually across his shoulders and a lopsided grin.
Hot jock is a kink I’ve yet to explore, but… I like it.
“Whaddaya think?” he asks with a thick Tennessee drawl and lofts the bat to one side, tapping his cleated toe against the blunt end of it.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, trying not to salivate over every delicious muscle being compressed by the clingy polyester. He’s more built now than he was in high school, and the uniform is struggling to accommodate his various bulges and protuberances.
“I had Isaac mail me a few things. Thought you might like it.” He draws back his shoulders to puff out his broad chest like a rooster, making the buttons along the center of his sternum strain in a most tantalizing way.
“And why would you think that?” I ask because I’m not going to make this too easy for him.
“I’ve seen your streaming queue. You’ve been watching an awful lot ofHigh School Musicallately.”
True. Two and three in particular when the actors no longer resemble teens but are, in fact, full-grown men.
“And I know you’ve got a thing for Zac Efron,” he says with a wink.
“The whole trilogy is rife with homoeroticism,” I retort. I could write a dissertation about Troy Bolton’s journey of rejecting toxic masculinity and embracing his artistic, feminine-coded side, working titleYes Homo, but I digress.
“Have you been fantasizing about another man, Mr. Peacock?” Adam asks, tapping the bat against his open palm in a slightly menacing way. My dick likes that too.
“Maybe I have,” I challenge. I like that he’s been paying such close attention, since that’s usually my department. “You’ve been spending a lot of hours at the studio, and there are only so many times I can watch Holly fake her way through an orgasm. I need new material.”
“You should film us,” he says, thrusting his hips obscenely and stroking the shaft of the bat like it’s a humongous, wooden cock. “You know I’d be down for a little low-budget porn.”
“I should,” I agree as my mind sparks with ideas. I could set up the guest bedroom as my own little porno set where we could do this sort of thing on the regular. I might even invite a couple friends over to watch Adam get raw dogged on the big screen. Charge admission for the peep show. Not to mention, it’s a little added insurance in case he ever got the dumb idea to leave me.
“You ever fantasize about getting railed by the starting pitcher of the Pirates’ varsity baseball team?” Adam asks, kissing the side of his bat.
“You said you were an outfielder.”
“Fucking go with it, man,” he huffs. I laugh at that, my ridiculous boyfriend, and he steps closer, motioning to the giant lump in his pants. “You looking for a little locker room action? Bent over in the showers while your hole gets plunged by a big, fat dick. Or else down on your knees, choking on cock. Go ahead, babe. It’s not going to bite you.”
I shake my head at his bravado—hot by the way—and peel down his tight pants. He’s wearing a red jock strap that can hardly contain his big, honking dick. The shape of it strains against the material like a behemoth. I make a silent apology to my rectum.
“I don’t know how that monstrosity is going to fit inside my delicate virgin ass,” I tell him while running my hand along the swell of flesh with a sure hand.
He takes a shuddering inhale and says, “You said you were vers. No way that fine ass hasn’t been tapped before.”
“As I said, it’s been a while.” Perhaps too long, considering the Grade A beef he’s packing.
“You can take it, Peacock. Now quit your bellyaching and worship me.”
He yanks up his shirt to expose his navel. I kiss a trail up to his belly button, then run my tongue over his cum gutter abs.
“Yeah, baby, don’t stop there. Suck my dick too.”
I’m surprised to find that I don’t mind being ordered around by him. Is it the costume? The way he embodies his character so well? Or maybe it’s just his thick, eager dick. I yank down the front of his jock strap roughly and bury my face in his groin, rubbing my stubbled cheeks along his meaty shaft and inhaling his sweet musk. I lick along the base where his pubic hair is just starting to grow back and lap at his rather hefty balls. I wonder who’s bigger between the Bailey brothers. I should compare notes with Lucia.
“Fuck yeah,” he says, tossing the bat onto the bed behind me. “You like that?”
He grabs hold of his dick and aims it at my mouth. As it turns out, I do like that, even more so when I take his cock deep down my throat. Adam grips the back of my head and shoves me down on it, pumping his hips with one arm raised like a drunk frat boy. He glances over at the mirror, as do I, to watch his colossal cock get swallowed up by my mouth and throat. It’s unseemly but terribly arousing. Adam groans and humps my face like a dog.
“Were you a dweeb in high school?” he asks after my throat has been thoroughly wrecked by his one-eyed monster.
“Definitely not,” I sputter, coming up for breath while jacking him slowly. “I was filthy rich with a celebrity mother and absolutely no conscience. People loved me.”
“Bet,” he says and pets my hair with affection. “Think we would have fucked in high school?”
