Undercover as a university student inside a thriving, all-gay digital community, Torin starts experiencing unexplained, universe-wide glitches that progressively and seamlessly change Torin and everyone around him.
They checked their shirts at the door, Torin surrendering his soft black tee with bemusement to the winking attendant. They’d started the shirt check as a joke on the first April Fool’s Day after Torin had arrived, but the resulting ocean of buff, beautiful seminudity, combined with the added practical benefit of not having to worry about keeping track of them for the guys who hauled their tops off anyway, made the policy so popular with the club’s patronage that they’d made the shirt check permanent. A lot of guys had started coming to Waldo’s with their shirts left behind at home, an easy enough decision in Mountain View’s year-round temperate clime, though to Torin there was something about giving up your shirt on entry that appealed to him. It created a deliberate transition that made the space within more of an indulgence—a secret sanctum of male hotness and uninhibited carnality that was at a useful and necessary remove from the ordinary, mundane world.
Torin watched as Kristof, bringing up the rear of their little group, handed his Lovers All Tour tee over with an indifferent shrug and paid the cover for them, then they all headed into the shifting lights and pounding noise of the club.
Shirtless men of all colors and descriptions ebbed and flowed around them. They came to the edge of the dance floor, and Torin glanced up at Yun, who was beaming. Where Kristof was the type of fun-loving guy to be at his most comfortable and at home in a party atmosphere like this, dialing down to his core level of ease and relaxation, Yun was a stimulation junkie and enjoyed being surrounded by energy and people so much he tended to ration out his own exposure to it, afraid of wanting it too much. Fortunately, performing in concert, or taking part in the creation of vigorous music in any context, was as intense a rush for him as going out dancing or cheering on the home team at a soccer match. Torin truly enjoyed seeing him happy. “Ready to have some fun, big guy?” he asked.
Yun gave him a goony grin, at the same time looking slightly abashed. He might be nearly a foot taller than his three friends, but he always seemed surprised when it came up. Which, of course, only made Torin want to tease him mercilessly about it.
Yun was already moving his shoulders to the thump of whatever song was playing, and instead of answering he just grabbed Torin’s forearm and pulled him into the throng, Kristof and Brick following.
Torin soon found himself in a sea of men, all gyrating to loud, vibrant, enchanting melodic dance music that seemed to be emanating from somewhere deep inside him and everyone else on the floor. Sweat-damp torsos slid against his. His friends were nearby—through a parting of the crowd he spotted Brick sliding his hands over a muscled twink’s bare shoulders, causing the ecstatic purple-haired boy-hunk to eagerly reciprocate, with another recruit, this one just as buff but more compact with more conventional black hair in a half-buzz, behind Brick with a huge grin and an almost dazed expression of sexual arousal. But they seldom stayed together when they were clubbing. They’d agreed early on not to complicate things by fucking each other, and anyway their tastes were fairly different. Though he was incredibly turned on by Brick, just as they all were, Torin’s usual type was someone thicker and a bit hairier than he was; Brick went for guys as close to his own hairless, sculpted hotness as himself (Torin speculated that Brick’s ultimate type was probably Brick himself); Kristof seemed to like several different kinds of guys, with no preference as far as Torin could tell; and Yun liked, well, tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned, stubbly hunks with impressive asses. On five previous nights out Torin had caught sight of Yun dancing or flirting with guys who could have been Torin’s brother, or even his clone. How aware of this Yun was Torin still had no idea.
A hand slid sensually along Torin’s flank, and he smiled at the burly, hairy-chested and extremely handsome stud in front of him. No—make that extremely handsome studs. Torin had been slowly noticing that, in contrast to the coupling he was used to on dance floors, tonight everyone seemed to be writhing in clusters of three. Brick usually pulled two at a time, but tonight… He looked around him. Everyone, and it truly was everyone, was moving to the music in groups of three. Some were face to face (to face), while others had two guys sandwiching a third, usually the best-looking or most attractive of the trio.
Torin looked back at his own conquests. He was closer now to the thick-muscled, furry, blue-eyed and goateed stunner with the questing hand, and as the masses shifted around them Torin found himself closer still, the hand sliding easily onto Torin’s left butt-cheek. Meanwhile the other man—even thicker and darker than the first guy, though with his short hair dyed bleach-blond for some reason—was now right behind Torin, his hands on Torin’s hips. Now he was the one being sandwiched, Torin thought. Did that make him the hottie? He found the idea difficult to accept. They were both more impressively swole than he was, after all, with perfectly proportioned bodies full of corded muscle Torin couldn’t wait to get his hands on.
They danced on, barely noticing the hundreds of sexy, libidinous men around them. The bleached blond behind him gyrated closer, bringing his erections in contact with the creases of Torin’s ass as though the two layers of denim between them might melt away at any moment. At the same time his protruding pecs brushed against Torin’s shoulder blades. Blue-eyes in front of him moved closer too, so that his fat hard-ons were suddenly pressed firmly against Torin’s own, his hand sliding up on to Torin’s lower back as the three of them danced as one. He could taste the other man’s breath—cinnamon and whisky. Their eyes met, and Torin could see the hunger.
Blue-eyes glanced behind Torin, making eye-contact briefly with the bleach-blond stud grinding his cocks gently against Torin’s ass. The music shifted suddenly, becoming faster and more intense.
Blue-eyes brought his lips to Torin’s ear. “D’you want to go out back with us?” he asked, his query just audible over the frenetic soundtrack.
“Out back” meant the much darker and quieter secondary space in the rear of the building behind the main club where make-outs and blow-jobs (but nothing more serious than that, per the house rules) were a nightly occurrence. And then, in that moment, Torin suddenly understood. He’d been thinking tentatively that the tripling-up thing was somehow related to everyone having three legs now. But, of course—it was that everyone had two dicks to suck off now instead of one. If he went “out back” with his two studs, they’d kneel down together in front of him and give him a double-blow job, just like the scores of double blow-jobs that were probably happening back there right now at this very moment.
Suddenly, and without any warning, Torin was close. His cocks twitched and jumped against the hard-ons being pressed against them, and blue-eyes instinctively pulled the three of them closer, still shifting to the music as Torin fought off a colossal orgasm.
That’s when it happened.
Something in the air seemed to snap almost imperceptibly, but Torin felt it, even in the midst of this welter of overstimulation—and then, all at once, instead of big, thick boners barely contained by their pants, Torin and everyone else abruptly had enormous, steel-hard wangs no pants could possibly contain. Torin’s own healthy pricks went from nine inches hard and two fingers thick, a size that, positioned straight up, had had them almost poking over the waistband, to (he measured later) fifteen fucking inches each and wrist-thick, jutting indomitably up out of his pants and drooling copiously all over his hard-carved, fuzzy eight-pack. Not only that, but his two newly gargantuan erections were pressing skin to skin and head to precum-slick head against a pair of enormous iron-hard cocks even wider than Torin’s—while, at the same time, two equally monumental raging hard cocks rocked against the cracks of Torin’s ass through his tight, butt-hugging jeans, the heads sliding urgently against Torin’s bare lower back.
Torin stared at his blue-eyed, hairy muscle-hunk with wide eyes. The other guy grinned, instantly understanding, and dove in for a kiss as the three men hugged each other tight, right there in the middle of the dance floor. Torin started cumming uncontrollably, shooting arcs of hot spunk onto his and his partner’s abs and chest as Torin gasped into the kiss, and suddenly the other two were cumming too, the three of them sharing a massive public orgasm to the thrum of the dance music and amidst the heat of a thousand impossibly beautiful men. The sensation of fresh, hot jizz painting his back and his front made Torin try to cum even harder, as the music seemed to shift again into something solid and steady. The three of them kept on holding each other tight as their climaxes peaked and ebbed, and though a few dancers around them laughed and clapped no one seemed to care too much.
Torin regained his breath enough to give blue-eyes another kiss. The nameless man grinned at him, then spoke into his ear again. “I should have seen you were too far gone to make it to the back,” he said. The bleached blond chucked as he kissed Torin’s neck.
“Sorry,” Torin mouthed, when blue-eyes pulled back. He just smiled and winked, then nodded his head toward the back, renewing the invitation, his brows arched in question. Torin leaned in and said into the other man’s ear, “Maybe next time?”
When he pulled back, the other man nodded, and the three of them danced and made out for a while. Torin, however, realized he was parched, and with a few final kisses for both of his guys he took his leave and headed for the bar. On thew long journey across the vast, crowded club he tried very hard not to be self-conscious about his bare, sweaty, muscular torso being covered in smelly spunk, or the two impossible-to-ignore erections thrusting tall and huge out of his jeans and pushing the waistband out from his tight waist; but everyone else had the same exposed erections, and Torin even spotted a few guys here and there painted with streaks of damp or drying cum, as if the occasional inability to contain your orgasms was a natural by-product of being huge-cocked, achingly hard, and surrounded by countless, sweaty, dancing twinks, bears, and muscle-hunks.
He got to the bar and, after wading through the ranks of people, he caught the attention of the bartender—a blond, sweet-smiling Adonis-A, as it turned out, with a physique slightly more developed than Brick’s and two enormous uncut cocks that seemed to be straining to reach the guy’s impressively ponderous pecs emerging from vivid purple, snug-fitting pants. Seeing this guy without warning gave Torin a fresh twinge of violent arousal even through his post-orgasmic haze, and his pricks would have immediately stiffened up again, if they hadn’t been rock-hard already.
The bartender grinned and nodded down at Torin’s tall, fat, unrelenting cocks. “Nice ones!” he said.
Torin stared at him for a second. “Uh—thanks!” he said. “Yours too!” The sound of the music was field-dampened enough here there it was just background noise, so there was no need to shout his awkward reply, which Torin appreciated.
The bartender wiggled his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “What can I get you?”
“Bottle of cold water?” Torin said.
The bartender nodded. “Be right back with that. Damp towels at the end of the bar,” he added, pointing with his chin before turning his broad back to Torin and heading down the bar in the other direction.
The way he said it made it seem like it was a rote reminder to all his customers, but Torin didn’t quite get it. Momentarily mystified, he moved in the direction indicated. At the end of the long, busy bar he found, sure enough, a row of dispense-boxes that gave out warm, slightly damp towels about a half-meter square. Next to them was a deep, narrow bin, currently about half-full, to toss the used towels in. The contents smelled like a heady mix of spunk mixed with sweat.
“Huh,” Torin said. He took one and started wiping down his chest and abs, wishing one of his buddies was around to get his back. As he worked, a lanky, red-faced guy with damp, strawberry blond hair and a big grin came up and started doing the same. Torin tried not to stare—though they were not even half as thick as Torin’s, the guy’s cocks were easily the longest he’d seen yet, topping out halfway up his long, almost ten-pack abs.
“These guys, they just won’t stop,” he said conversationally. “Hey, can you get my back? I’ll do yours too,” he added.
Torin agreed wordlessly, and soon they were all cleaned up. Tossing their towels in the bin, Torin turned found his water waiting for him on the bar, the Adonis-A bartender tossing him another wink as he moved off. He took a swig and watched as the lanky guy with the long cocks grab two more towels from the dispense-box and drape them over his hard-ons. “They’re so leaky anyway,” he explained happily. “I might as well try it this way!” Then he was gone, before Torin could even wish him good luck.
Torin intended to sit the rest of the night out, feeling a little overwhelmed by the changes, but he ran into a pair of platinum-blond Adonis-B brothers at the bar, almost alike enough to be twins (supposedly, lookalike brothers and twins were both very common among Adonis Bs, who weren’t quite as instantly arousing as the Adonis-As but instead tended to cause an intense and hard-to-ignore need to kiss them). The two of them dragged him back to the dance floor with them; this time Torin managed to hold off cumming for almost 20 minutes of serious sandwiching and rhythmic kissing, and the next time nearly fifteen. The two laughingly helped wipe him down afterwards, though Torin unexpectedly came again watching them clean each other, spitting huge quantities of cum he shouldn’t have had all over his chest and belly for the fourth time that night. The brothers laughed and handed him a new towel before disappearing into the crowd, and Torin shook his head and started scrubbing cum out of his chest hair all over again.
Just as he was finishing, Kristof found him. Torin glanced down his muscular torso to see if Kristof was packing big guns like the rest of them. Sure enough, Kristof’s rigid, uncut cocks were standing tall out of his baggy trousers, both listing to the left and, while not as long as Torin’s raging boners, they were even thicker than his were.
“I thought I’d find you with the cum-rags,” Kristof said cheerily. “How many times did you nut yourself on the floor tonight?”
Torin grimaced and tossed the towel in the bin. “Three,” he said. Kristof seemed to sense he was holding something back, though, and Torin decided the last one probably counted too. “Or four,” he amended.
Kristof laughed. “Man, you never make it to the back,” he said. “Me, I got a good, for real blow-job from these two muscle-nerds, it was so hot—”
“Hey guys!” Yun said, appearing out of the crowd next to them. Torin gaped at him. He was so taken aback by Yun’s long, monster hard-ons, which were so big they stretched way they hell up Yun’s extra-long, deliciously defined torso and actually topped out almost exactly at Yun’s pert, erect nipples (!), that he barely registered how the two guys he had his arms around looked pretty much exactly like Torin—and did look exactly like each other. “I’ll be ready to go soon, okay?” Yun promised. Then he turned and they melted into the throng again, clearly headed in the direction of “out back”.
Kristof moved up next to Torin, like him staring at the spot where Yun had disappeared, and carded a hand through his long hair. “Dude, when is he going to figure out it’s you he wants?” he asked.
Torin was starting to wonder that as well. “Yeah,” he joked, “but there’s only one of me.”
Kristof snickered, elbowing him. “I didn’t mean for blowjobs, dude,” he taunted. “I think he’s in luuuurrrve.”
Torin snorted and shoved his friend back with his shoulder. “Shut up, or I’ll cum all over you,” he said.
Kristof scoffed. “Like you’ve never done that before,” he said with a grin.
Before Torin could get him to elaborate, Brick appeared, flanked by the same fresh-faced, eager twunks Torin had spotted him with at the start of the evening, their gently curved cocks looking short and hefty compared to Brick’s perfect, succulent, red-tinged whoppers, though Torin guessed the twunks were both sporting at least footlongs. Torin wasn’t surprised they were the same pair he’d seen before: Brick tended to stick with the same guys when he went out, and often brought them home, mostly because his intense arousal tended to fixate on one guy—or guys—at a time. Also, like most Adonis-As his libido was so high he need to cum six or seven times a night before he hit his true, ultra-euphoric climax, an orgasm-bomb so concentrated and so potent that it tended to trigger simultaneous instant orgasms in anyone within twenty meters of its detonation, as Torin knew all too well from repeated experience.
“You guys about ready?” Brick asked, his bright mango eyes faintly phosphorescent in the dim, swirling atmosphere of the club.
“Just waiting on Yun,” Kristof said with a leer, indicating the back area with his scruffy chin.
“Good, we def want to grab a bite before we head back,” Brick replied. The twunks, whether previously consulted on this point or not, nodded vigorously. Brick tended to work up an appetite on the dance floor, Torin knew. Though he was fairly ravenous at the moment himself, come to think of it, and he could practically hear Kristof’s bottomless stomach growling.
“I could totally go for double beef-burgers and crispy fries at Toledo’s,” Kristof agreed.
“Sounds like a plan,” Torin said.
They chatted a while, Brick’s twunk recruits hanging back politely and occasionally exchanging excited glances, until Yun suddenly appeared again. He was looking fresh-faced and slightly embarrassed, his towering boners just as hard and immense as they had been before, if a little redder. He was alone, much to Torin’s relief—there was no sign of his surrogate-clones.
The six of them headed out together in a tight friend-formation, joining a few other similarly happy-looking groups of half-naked, double-monster-boned guys leaving around the same time. As they passed through the main vestibule and out toward the mild night air of the parking lot, Torin realized something and stopped. “Hold up, guys,” he said, and at his words they all halted and gathered close around him. “Aren’t we going to collect our shirts from the shirt check?” Torin asked.
They all gave him confused, what-are-you-talking-about looks. “Dude,” Kristof asked him, his brow furrowed, “what’s a ‘shirt’?”
Food sounded like a good distraction, and Torin kept an eye out for Ben, their half-naked, long-legged farm-boy server with the extra-wide, bent-half-way cocks, who should be bringing their overloaded plates of goodness out any minute. (Torin knew he was called “Ben” because his name had been markered onto his left pec in small block letters, more or less where a nametag would have been pinned to his uniform shirt a couple hours before. There was a little mole there that made it look like his name was supposed to be “Ben.”, period included.)
The diner was bustling with guys, a lot of them fresh from clubbing. Booths and tables were ringed with them, more groups passed in and out. They were different colors and heights, different physiques and dispositions, but to a man they were all shirtless, good-looking, and possessed of two monster erections that, whatever their shape—fat, thin, straight, bent, surfboard or torpedo—their pants could not possibly begin to hide them. Why did they still even wear pants? Torin mused, looking around the large, boisterous space. Was it just fashion, or was there still a perceived need to hide or contain the enlarged pairs of lemon-sized balls everyone seemed to have now on both sides as part of the monster-cock upgrade? Maybe the pants were next, he thought. His eyes caught on a fit, dusky-skinned lad with a dreadlock fade near the next booth. He’d paused in the act of leaving to make out with his taller, well-muscled blond companion, who was brazenly stroking the lad’s impressive, exposed cocks as they kissed.
Fuck, that might not even need a glitch, Torin thought. At this rate it’ll probably happen in a day or two just by mutual consent.
Kristof, on Torin’s left, followed his gaze and tsked. “No shame,” he said, shaking his head, before reaching over and giving Torin’s nearest boner a long stroke—right in front of their server, Ben, who was just then setting a towering pile of food directly in front of Kristof.
Torin gasped. “Hey!” he objected. “Are you trying to get me to blow a load all over your burger?” He was only half joking. Despite having cum spectacularly a total of four times in the club, Torin still felt like he was in a state of constantly simmering near-orgasm. It wouldn’t take much to set him off again, as Kristof, with his rounded, naturally large pecs and slabs of thick, hard cock, seemed to know all too well. On his other side, Yun watched Kristof’s antics with silent intensity. His cocks were chest-high now that he was sitting, nearly up to his elegant collarbones, and at the sight of Kristof’s cheeky grope they’d both spit thick arcs of precum in jerky approval. Yun’s long arm was behind him along the canted back of the booth, and Torin fancied he felt it twitch as well, as if it were considering a unilateral move down onto Torin’s muscular shoulders regardless of what Yun felt about it.
Brick was currently engaged in a three-way make-out with the twunks, Kev (he with the rhubarb-purple hair) and Rob (the compacter one with the half-buzz), one of whom (Kev) was on his lap; so they, at least, didn’t notice Kristof’s little grope. The bashful server finished laying out their food and disappeared, his cheeks perceptibly reddened.
“I do like the taste,” Kristof replied with a salacious smirk, before turning to his rugby-ball-sized burger and giving it his full attention. Torin watched him a moment, amused and bemused. Goading Torin seemed to be Kristof’s new favorite thing, and he just couldn’t tell if this behavior had been unleashed retroactively as a part of everyone getting giant exposed cocks, or if it had been building up as part of their increasingly playful relationship. Maybe both, Torin decided. He bent forward and hefted his own Toledoburger (with swiss, bacon, and barbecue), ignoring how Yun was still watching him, his cocks spurting occasionally onto his chest and shoulders, or the way Brick and his cute, muscley partners for the night were integrating the landmark restaurant’s famous crispy fries into their mutual mouthplay.
From the next booth Torin heard the unmistakable grunts of the dusky lad cumming as his larger companion kissed him and stroked him off. Everyone around them seemed to be pretending nothing was happening, Torin included, though the stimulus seemed to reverberate through at least his booth, and possibly through their whole corner of the restaurant. Brick and the twunks picked up the pace of their food fun, while Kristof smiled in his burger and Yun was nervously swallowing his cajun chicken fingers more or less whole.
Torin sat back a little, focusing on his meal as the smell of cum wafted over them. Yun’s arm slid onto his shoulder almost automatically. Torin ignored that, too.
Mmm, he thought. Good burger.
They finished fairly quickly despite the overgenerous proportions and didn’t dawdle, teasing Brick about still having the night ahead of him, which only made Brick beam in response. As they got out of the booth Torin noticed Ben watching them from the wait station, the two fat, bent cocks he had emerging from his heavy black work trousers looking warm and slick with his own pre. His eye caught Kristof’s and his cheeks reddened again. He looked like he was about to turn away, but Kristof beckoned him over with a wide, friendly smile that few could resist. Ben headed toward them, seeming more bashful than ever, and a few of the other diners took seemed to sense something happening and looked up to watch as Ben joined their group.
Kristof, at 6’4” just a shade taller than the corn-fed youth, looked down at him with a wicked smile. “We just wanted to tell you you did a great job tonight,” he told him, “and see if maybe you wouldn’t mind an… extra tip?” He shifted his brows up and down at that, so there could be little chance of mistaking his meaning.
Ben stared into his eyes. “Okay,” he said. Without further preamble, Kristof moved in and planted a kiss on him, at the same time giving his bent, slippery cocks three long, slow strokes. Torin watched this with hot arousal filling up all his inner recesses. Fuck, he thought, maybe Kristof is some kind of third Adonis level they didn’t even know about. He sure gets away with everything…
Kristof stepped back and gestured for Torin to take his place. When Torin didn’t move at first, Kristof goaded, “C’mon, Tor, be fair. He did right by the whole table, right? The tip should come from all of us!”
Knowing Kristof was not going to let go of it, Torin sighed and moved in front of the hunky server, who seemed slightly dazed. Kristof must be one hell of a kisser, he thought. He pressed his lips against the other man’s and felt him immediately respond, opening for him and deepening the kiss even before Torin had his hand’s wrapped around Ben’s hefty cocks. They were stone-hard and almost completely immovable… not unlike Torin’s own had been all night. They kissed deeply for a long moment, the server’s hands sliding unexpectedly over Torin’s firm, round ass as Torin jerked him languidly and deliberately.
Finally Torin pulled himself away, realizing he was close to cumming again. He gave Kristof a look that said he would get his. Kristof just grinned, casually brushing his hair back as he watched the spectacle he’d created.
Yun kissed him next. His kiss was hungry and his strokes firm, though he seemed to realize after a moment that Ben wasn’t the right person to exorcise his sexual frustrations on and stepped back, smiling contritely at the man in a way Torin found adorable.
Kev and Rob kissed him together, each giving the cock in front of them a playful stroke. They seemed honored to be included, though they were suppressing giggles as they stepped back.
Then Brick stepped in front of the guy—a little reluctantly, Torin thought. By now most of the restaurant was watching, waiting to see what would come next.
Seeing Brick in front of him, Ben gave an involuntary grunt of increased arousal, his cocks jerking and seeming to get even harder and thicker-looking. Brick gave him a brilliant, reassuring smile—itself probably enough to make Torin cum were it directed at him, he thought—and bent to give him deep, slow kiss while simultaneously giving his rigid, bent monster cocks a long, strong-fisted stroke.
Ben, of course, lost it, as anyone would being ministered to in such a fashion by an Adonis-A. His cocks erupted with huge gouts of cum that, due to their almost L-shaped crook, sent his spunk not onto his own well-proportioned body, but instead splattering in long arcs all over Torin—he’d been so immersed in the shocking novelty of what was happening that he hadn’t realized he was standing in exactly the wrong place. Ben came a lot, grunting red-faced into Brick’s open-mouthed kiss as the Adonis-A continued stroking him firmly through his release, and Torin was quickly coated with more spunk than he’d gotten on himself the whole night in the course of his own four gargantuan orgasms.
It was probably a good thing in balance, he thought later. In that moment Torin was perilously close to the edge himself and might have been shoved into a huge climax at the sight of Brick making Ben cum with a stroke and a kiss; but having Ben cum bucket-loads all over him, and the resulting snickering from Kristof and even Yun, was ample distraction.
For a second everything seemed still and suspended, Torin aghast, Ben floating, Brick glad he’d made someone happy, Kristof snickering. Then the place started up again, and the restaurant filled with noise as people went back to whatever they were doing, leaving Torin and his group to their devices.
Still chuckling, Kristof turned to their table and picked up a few of the paper napkins that were stacked there—as if that would do anything. Muttering that he’d get a shower at home, Torin instead grabbed Kristof’s and Yun’s wrists and pulled them toward the door with a brusque “C’mon!”, the others falling in behind them. As they left together, Torin noticed another departing table tentatively giving their talk, lithe, and very hung waiter the same kind of “extra tip” Ben has just gotten. Ben, for his part, had emerged from his daze and started clearing up their table with a huge, dopey grin.
Outside they were all chuckling again, Torin included, exasperated though he was. “How do you always end up covered in spunk?” Brick said, shaking his head with a laugh as they headed across the lot to their cars. (Knowing Brick’s habits they’d gone out as usual with Brick driving his own car and the rest of them in Kristof’s comfy SUV.)
“He’s a spunk magnet,” Kristof suggested.
“No thanks,” Torin objected, not wanting other people jizzing on him to become a thing. “I’m sticking to cumming on myself from now on.”
Brick and Kristof laughed. They separated as they neared the cars, Kev and Rob following Brick to his sleek silver roadster while Yun and Torin went with Kristof. Torin tried teasing Kristof a little as they approached the SUV, testing to see where things lay between them. “That was a little crazy back there,” he said with a cautious smile.
Standing at the driver’s door, Kristof gave him a saucy up and down look. “Maybe I was just warming up for the big event,” he said with a smirk.
Torin glanced at Yun, who was standing close, watching them. Was Yun waiting for Kristof to breach the sexual taboo between the suitemates? Torin sighed deliberately and said, “Dude, we talked about this, right?” He hoped they still had, in this revised reality.
“I know,” Kristof said equably, though he moved closer as he said it. “It’s just—” And he give Torin a soft, tender kiss. There was no touching, no stroking, just the kiss; and it was so sweet, so gratifying, so unbearably pleasant that Torin almost—almost—came.
Kristof stepped back, brushing his hair back with his fingers as he gave Torin another top-to-bottom scope. When their gazes met again, Kristof’s hazel eyes were dancing, but there was more there beyond his usual playfulness that Torin wasn’t sure he understood. “It’s just,” Kristof repeated, “you happen to be slightly irresistible.”
Torin glanced up at Yun and saw his lips were working subtly, as if he were trying to taste the kiss Kristof had given Torin. Torin’s stare drifted down to Yun’s perfectly straight, nipple-high monster erections, which were spitting precum onto Yun’s pecs again. Torin swiftly turned away and started around the car. Funny, he though, before today he’d have listed Yun’s torso, especially those long, cut abs, as Yun’s second-best feature after his gorgeous face. It was almost a shame nobody looking at him would even see them now, thanks to the impressive distractions now rising in front of them.
He got in the car, pleased to note that the seat-backs were all reclined just enough to prevent unnecessary self-impalings. He settled his butt in the passenger seat and his three big feet in the foot-well in front of him, feeling pensive and unsure. As Yun got silently into the back seat and Kristof started up the SUV with a mischievous grin, Torin wondered if his night, too, was only just beginning.