Everyone is 18+ and fully consenting.

Chapter 5: School Year

The guys used me for the rest of that night, and by the end of the weekend an unspoken rule had developed: I was a hole for my friends to use. Two holes, rather.

I woke up in my own bed Monday morning, with a strange mix of feelings. Was this going to be a regular thing? Did I even want that? My ass was killing me, but my memories of the weekend were amazing. I had never felt so free and sexually liberated, and it had been right under my nose all along. It had all started with Grant whipping out his monster in a frenzy of male hormones and a prioritization of pleasure and joy over modesty and inhibition.

While taking five dicks was a lot of fun, I would have been fine with just one. Grant was the one who sparked my interest, and he was the one who actually made me climax without even touching my dick. The others were useful to try out, and I would let any of them fuck me again if they wanted, but Grant was the guy I trusted the most, and the only one I would seek out independently. 

The next phase of my life was solidified mid morning at school, when Grant found me in the hall between classes and told me he had something to show me and led me into the boys room. I could hear students chattering and walking by right outside the door, and when I asked what it was that he wanted to show me, he yanked me into the lone toilet stall.

I realized what was happening, and my heart skipped a beat. Grant pulled my face to his and kissed me while our crotches rubbed together, his hand pulling me against him by my ass.

After a minute I dropped to my knees, knowing our time was limited and it wasn't going to be over until Grant shot his load.

I unzipped his pants while he took care of the button, and we pulled down his pants and underwear together. When I saw that long, straight, pink rocket pointed at my face, I got to work, having had plenty of practice over the weekend. Within a minute he was holding my head and rubbing himself against my tongue at his preferred angle, going fast and making my mouth slosh around, spit dripping down my chin. I worked his thickness with my hand, knowing all the spots that made his body twitch with pleasure. 

I reached down to pull myself out, but I didn’t even rub myself, knowing that I would be done at the first touch. The bell rang, and he pulled my head down hard. Water ran from my eyes as I squinted, taking whatever he wanted to give me.

Within two minutes he was pressing into my throat, stretching me out again and reigniting the soreness I hadn’t really gotten over yet from the weekend, as his steel pole dropped his seed directly into my stomach. I grabbed myself and rubbed furiously, accidentally coating his shoes with my load while I finished swallowing him down.

We cleaned up side by side at two adjacent sinks, and just as he finished wiping his big, swinking, red dick, the door opened. A guy walked in, saw us both looking at him, watched Grant fumble to tuck himself away, opened his eyes wide, and went to the urinal without saying anything.

Grant and I shared a look, dried our hands and left, turning separate ways in the hall.

—[]—

Grant and I hung out a lot that week, and it almost seemed like we were gay boyfriends after a couple days, but neither of us seemed to be able to push it to the next level. We just never talked about it.

To my horny delight, things ramped up again on Friday night at the football game. The bleachers on a Friday night were loud enough that you couldn’t hear anything going on underneath them, and nobody would know. Tyler had apparently figured this out.

It was halftime when he found me in the crowd and leaned close enough that I could smell some random cologne he had put on. He leaned into my ear in the and said, simply, "Come with me," and I followed him down through the metal risers to the dark underneath, where the grass was trampled flat and the noise of the crowd above us was loud.

Mark was already there, leaning against one of the support beams with his hands in his jacket pockets, grinning at me. He'd been waiting.

"Thought you'd never come," he said.

"Funny," I said as I looked around nervously, scared and excited to do something bad in public.

“Grant says you might be down to… you know…?” Tyler said quietly.

“I’m down,” I said quickly, “As long as Grant is cool with it.”

“He your boyfriend now?” Tyler said back, like he was honestly asking, which surprised me. 

I didn’t answer, I just got on my knees and started fumbling at his crotch. 

Before long, I had both their dicks in my hands, and I was choking myself on one at a time, letting them push my head down and insert their warm meat into me.

It was cold enough that their breaths showed above my head when I looked up, both of them watching me intently, one watching my lips wrap around their desperate dick, the other waiting impatiently while I stroked them. The metal was just a few feet above us, and it shook every time someone stomped, which was often. Tyler had been groaning since I started. Mark pushed me down onto Tyler’s dick, like he wanted him to cum quicker so he could use me for himself.

Mark's hands tangled my hair while Tyler kept his hands on my ears, gently keeping my head straight while he alternated shallow thrusts into my mouth and pulling me down deep onto his hard rod. When Mark took over for a while, Tyler positioned himself nearby, waiting for his next turn, his pale skin bright in the low light coming through the gaps in the bleachers. Above us someone scored and the crowd erupted, the metal shaking with it, and I felt the vibration of the crowd’s cheers through my gut.

When I switched back to Tyler, I played with his ass, fishing my fingers deeper between his tightly tensing glutes until I pressed onto his hole, and he finished first, quietly and quickly and without warning, pressing into the back of my throat with his hands on either side of my head.

Mark took over again, and had more stamina, lasting longer. Grant had been a quick trigger usually, unless we were going for a second round, so Mark’s stamina was making my jaw sore, which hadn’t happened since the previous weekend. He moved my head the way he liked, his thick fingers laced through my hair, pulling just to make a pleasurable sensation crawl across my scalp. 

He sighed. “I need to cum.”

Before I could say anything in response, he pulled me up by the arm and turned me around against the support beam, and I braced against the cold metal while shimmied my pants down for me, exposing my ass. I wasn’t expecting any of this, but I didn’t stop him. He pushed against my ass, his warm body radiating heat into me, his chest against my back as he tried to get his wet dick into my hole.

His breath made my ear tingle just as he found my hole, and pushed inside. I braced through the tension, thinking back to the pleasure of the previous weekend, and in seconds I was already finding a bit of pleasure in it.

A couple minutes in, his body started clapping loudly against me while Tyler just watched, and soon he froze, his mouth next to my ear, holding his breath while he pulsed inside me. 

I pulled my shorts up quickly, suddenly very aware of how open and risky we had been. We climbed back up through the bleachers separately, found our seats and watched the rest of the game like nothing had happened, which was the best part. It was like we had gotten away with a little secret.

—[]—

The sleepovers at Tyler's became a regular thing, sometimes even on weeknights if we could justify it with “group homework” and stuff like that. The group changed sometimes, occasionally someone new would be there, a friend of Tyler's or a guy from the team, someone who had heard something or been told carefully, and they'd look at me across the room with a particular expression and I'd know, and by the end of the night I'd have a piece of them inside me, one way or another.

The arrangement developed a rhythm. My mouth was available freely, openly, a known quantity that nobody made a big deal about. My ass was more of a special treat, that Grant could have whenever he wanted, but I really only gave it up to the others when it was a special occasion. Regardless, I'd usually end up on my knees or on my back or sitting in someone's lap, moving from one to the next when they were ready, and the guys on the sidelines would watch and touch themselves and wait their turn, and there was something in all those hours of hormonal ejaculation that made me feel like I was the center of the universe, just for a moment.

It was our group secret, even if others were brought in sometimes. I guess there was enough discretion that I never got any shit for it at school. If anything, it just made our friend group feel like more of a group, like a running joke. We never talked about it at school beyond the occasional look or the occasional hand on my thigh under a desk during class that meant something only we knew.

—[]—

The last week of school already felt like Summer. The smell of cut grass was pungent, and people were already wearing sunscreen to fight the onslaught of California sunshine.

Grant found me after last period, on the last Thursday of the school year, leaning against the wall outside my classroom like he'd been waiting for me. He grabbed my hand, not exactly crazy at this point, but a bit more public of a display of affection than usual, and we walked out through the side doors and onto the path that ran along the edge of the soccer field, where the groundskeepers had planted something along the fence line that had come up in a long unruly row of yellow and white flowers, the typical pre-Summer landscaping.

We walked without saying much. The sun was bright and warm on the side of my face. Grant had his other hand in his pocket and was looking at the ground.

When we stopped, I reached over and grabbed his crotch, just a firm, familiar handful.

"Do you realize," I said, "how much trouble this thing has started?"

He chuckled, looking down at my hand, and then up at my face, and he almost smiled and then didn't. His expression got somewhat more serious.

"I think I want you to be my boyfriend," he said.

The flowers along the fence moved slightly in a light breeze. Somewhere across the field a car door slammed. I looked at the side of his face, at the jaw I had looked at all year from various positions and distances, and I felt a familiar warmth settle in my chest that had apparently been waiting to settle for a long time.

I half smiled at him.

"I already am," I said.

He looked up from his hands. His expression was peaceful.

We started walking again. The flowers kept shifting slightly in the wind along the fence in their not perfectly straight row, yellow and white in the mid June sun.

“Cool,” he said.