Learning To Show Off My Cock in High School 03: Fucking a Stud (Patreon)

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Chapter 3: Fucking a Stud

I didn't sleep much that night. I had weird, erotic dreams, and every time I got close to sleeping deeply, my brain would drag me back to the same anxiety point, that "WHAT" from Jake, in all caps. His brother had messaged me the same day I'd had his throat balls deep on my cock in the bushes at the park. I lay there running through the possibilities in circles in my head, until I finally closed my eyes again.

I woke up, and through all the uncertainty, I knew one thing: I was going commando again today. That had been a successful experiment. I looked at all the clean underwear my mom had put in my drawers for me, and left it where it was. I pulled on a fresh pair of grey sweats over nothing but my heavy boy dick and stood in the mirror and adjusted the pile of my junk until it sat where I wanted it, obvious, heavy, front and center. Yesterday it was an accident I got lucky with. Today I was showing up to school with a loaded weapon.

And my reputation had already spread. I felt it the second I came through the doors, and walked into it with my chest out, letting them look. There was a girl at her locker who whispered to her friend, who did a double take that started at my face and dropped to my crotch. Ten feet past them, two guys by the trophy case went quiet as I passed, pretending not to be looking at my bulge. I scratched my balls over the pants right in front of them and they both turned their heads away, confirming what their focus was. I saw Robert by my locker. He threw me a chin-nod and came over. 

"Bro," Robert said, keeping his voice down, "You're famous."

I chuckled, digging through my locker.

"People think it's fake," he said.

"Wait til they see the real thing," I said as I pushed my hips forward, letting the heavy print of it stand out against the front of the sweats, fully showing the outline of the head and shaft. His eyes dropped and stayed down for a second.

He glanced down the hall, then straight at my crotch with zero shame about it. "Honestly you should just show me so I can verify it firsthand. For science."

"You want to see my cock," I said, reaching for my waistband right there in the crowded hall.

His face turned red as he looked around and back down. I stopped, just barely showing a bit of my pubes, and let it snap back against me.

"Shut the fuck up," I said, shaking my head.

"Jesus," he said. "Okay. Real question. Has a girl ever actually been able to take that? Like has anyone survived it?"

"I'm a virgin," I said, quickly and confidently. Two days prior, I would have mumbled that quietly, if I could even say it out loud.

"Not for long, I bet." He slapped the locker next to mine and pushed off it. "The sluts are coming for that thing, dude."

As he walked away, I would have thought that my mind would picture all the big titty porn chicks, or the hot girls at school, slobbering for my dick and begging me to fuck them, but all I could think about was Jake.

At first passing period, I went to the bathroom by the gym, the one nobody uses because it's out of the way. It was kind of a wank shack, honestly, so it was extra disgusting. But after what I had been through the day before, it seemed like the right place to go if I was going to pull out my cock, even if just to piss. 

There was one guy already in there at the urinal. I recognized him a little, or knew his type at least. I think he was new, with dark hair buzzed short on the sides, and a lean, somewhat athletic build, with slightly sunburned forearms. Baseball, I figured, from how he stood, or maybe I just made that up in my head. I took the spot two down from him and stood back farther than I normally would from the urinal, my hips forward, leaving some space so there was a foot of open air between me and the porcelain.

He peeked out of the corner of his eye. I wouldn't have noticed if I wasn't hyper aware after my "cruising" experience the day before. It was just a flick of the eyes at first, a common thing among males subtly sizing up their mates. He looked away quickly, his head avoiding turning all the way toward me, but then his eyes came back.

And I let him look. I didn't cover up or angle away, if anything, I subconsciously turned a couple degrees toward him, and gave him viewing access the whole floppy thing, feeling a little blood flow into it from the attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his jaw come slightly loose.

"Damn," he said, quietly, like it slipped out on accident.

I had finished peeing long before. At this point I was just "shaking it" loosely, and instead of tucking it away I gave it a couple extra moments of appreciation time. He wasn't peeing either anymore, just standing there, not zipping up. And I let it swing there, heavy, while he watched. I heard a teacher's voice talking on the phone as he opened the door to the bathroom, and I finally pulled my waistband back up. But just as I tucked it away, I saw the face of the teacher, and his eyes shooting down to my bulge, and suddenly he forgot what he was saying on the phone, mid-sentence. 

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I got through two more periods of class with minimal disruption before it happened again. I was at the water fountain between classes, and a guy I actually knew sort of came up quietly. The hall had thinned out after the second bell, but I waited there because I could tell he wanted to talk to me. He came up close to my side as I stood up.

"Can I see it?" he asked, bluntly, looking me in the eye. 

I wasn't even really surprised at this point. I checked over my shoulder, then pulled the waistband forward so he could look down at it.

To my surprise, he reached down INTO my sweatpants and squeezed it quickly, making me flinch. 

"Damn," he said, which was starting to sound like the word of the day. "It's real. It's like a rubber baseball bat."

I just nodded as he pulled his hand away.

"No homo," he said, wiping his hand on his pants like he was worried about germs.

"Of course," I said as I adjusted myself over my pants, and he laughed in a sort of shaky way as we parted ways, going in opposite directions to our next respective classes.

It happened a few more times over the rest of the day. In the stairwell, I gave a peek to two juniors who were staring at me and whispering to each other, and they started laughing but couldn't take their eyes off of it. After lunch, I was sitting on a bench in the courtyard with my laptop open, and a guy I'd never spoken to in my life sat next to me and mumbled, "Is your bulge real or fake," and I just raised my eyebrows. 

"Can I," he said, and I moved my laptop slightly, angling myself so it was clearly visible. 

He stared for another moment, and I gave him a two-second flash of the head of it, and he just nodded like he was contemplating what he saw.

A few of them just got shown because I felt like showing them. I was handing out the same peek I'd been rationing to grown men in a park the day before, and I just kept feeling like a bigger and bigger person every time a mouth fell open.

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I saw Brody by the science classrooms right before lunch. He gave me a casual nod first, but my stomach sank a bit, wondering what he knew. He peeled off the wall and came over. We hadn't really talked in a while, and I still never opened his snap message, so I had no idea if something was about to happen or not.

"So," he said, and did this little scan of the hallway before he lowered his voice. "I heard you've been, like, showing your dick to people?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. Couldn't tell yet if it was a trap.

"Yeah," I said. "Why, you wanna see it?"

He huffed a laugh and looked off to the side. "I mean. I guess I could've looked all those times we..."

"Okay," I said, cutting him off before he could finish. "Well. It's bigger now."

He smirked. "It already wasn't small back then."

I laughed. My mind was doing quick, sloppy math on exactly what he meant. And I wondered if he was a freak on the inside like his brother. I mean, plenty of guys wanted a look given the size of it, but it takes a certain kind of dude to do what Jake did. And maybe the apple doesn't fall too far, and his brother might be into the same shit. I liked the idea of that.

Brody just held the smirk for a second as his eyes dropped to my crotch, then back up. Then he knocked his knuckles on my arm and walked off.

I watched him go, and I still couldn't tell what he knew or didn't know about his brother, or exactly how much he was reminiscing about old times. But he definitely wasn't weird about it. Whatever it was, it seemed okay.

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After school I took the park route again out of habit, and there were some of the same faces near the brick building, including the bench guy, the first one to see it in the flesh, and the older guy with the grey sides of his hair. They both did the slow turn as I passed, but I kept my hands in my pockets and kept walking. The show wasn't free today. Not for them.

I was just about to start my gooner ritual for the night, fantasizing about all the things that people would do to serve me and my big cock, when Jake texted me.

Jake: You out tonight?

Me: Can be

Jake: I can pick you up in ten mins

I checked that everyone was asleep, and carefully stepped out the front door, walking down to the corner of my street. The headlights swung around the corner and it was the Mercedes, with the top down, rolling to a stop at the curb. For a second I felt fourteen again, standing there in my sweats while my friend's cool older brother sat behind the wheel of a fancy car. 

He leaned over and pushed the passenger door open from the inside. I got in and shut the door, and he said "hey," and his voice cracked on the word. He cleared his throat.

"Sorry, my throat is sore," he said, and I heard the nerves in his voice.

"I wonder why," I said, and I saw his face turn red.

His thumb drummed on the wheel already as he put the car in drive. In my head I thought, Wow, he's been sitting at home all day nervous about ME.

Neither of us said much on the drive out there. We both adjusted ourselves in our pants along the way, anticipating what was about to happen. He drove us out past the edge of town, and up a road along the reservoir, checking his mirrors nervously the whole time like we might be followed or spotted in some way. 

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The pullout was a dirt half-moon, up on a cliff where the town spread out below in a grid of orange-ish lights. Teens were known to come up here and hook up. I could see the silhouette of him sitting in the driver's seat waiting.

Once we stopped, we were quiet for another minute. He was different now, his knee bouncing. He reached into the door pocket and came out with a bottle of lube and set it in the cupholder.

"So it's, uh. It's ready," he said. 

"What is?" I asked.

"I warmed up, with a toy thing. I did it before I left so we wouldn't have to..." He stopped. "I want you to record it. When you do it. Is that okay."

"When I do what?" I said, teasing him at this point.

"C'mon..." he said, shy again.

"Just get in the back like a good boy."

He climbed over the console quickly, into the back seat and I followed him, and it was cramped and neither of us really fit, even after he moved the seats forward, but the cramped space somehow made it better. He got his shirt off first and I looked at him in the orange light coming up off the town, every line of him cut out like a statue, and then this Adonis form got down between my knees in the footwell and pulled my sweats down and let my flesh hit him on the forehead as he closed his eyes.

"Damn," he said. "It's so big."

"You just gonna talk about it, or you gonna..."

He interrupted me by shoving his face down onto it, taking me deep on the first go. He worked me with everything he had, clearly having been thinking about it for an entire day. I worked my hand into his hair, gripping him as I started guiding his head down, and when he'd get to the part that wouldn't fit I'd push, just a little more each time, and feel his throat fight it and give. It was a different position than yesterday, but I felt like I could get it in there with time and motivation. He gagged, his whole back tensing in the dark and his shoulders bunching up, and he pulled off coughing with strings of spit still connecting us and looked up at me with his eyes already running.

"Good boy," I said, and he seemed to be in a daze as he went right back down for more.

I got my phone out, opening the camera, and held it up over him to get the whole event in frame, the top of his perfect head bobbing on me, one of the most wanted guys choking himself on a high schooler in the back of his own car. He saw the camera light was on and moaned around me, working harder for it, arching his back so the top of his ass came up into the light for the lens.

"You like being filmed," I said. He pulled off just to say "yes," breathless, before I put his head back on me.

I guided him by the torso off of my dick and up onto the seat, on his knees facing the back window with his forearms braced on the ledge and the town lights out in front of him, and I got behind him. The lube was simple enough to figure out. I greased up my ample meat and lined up against him, pushing forward. He really was warmed up like he said, as far as I knew, but I'm not a normal size, and he groaned a long, slow exhale as he dropped his forehead against the glass, while I fed it into him inch by inch.

"That feels good," I said aloud, feeling the gentle breeze of the night across my body, contrasting with the warmth of his ass on me.

He didn't respond. He was struggling.

"Breathe," I said. "Take it. You wanted this all day."

"I did," he got out. "Fuck. I do."

I bottomed out and held it there, feeling the tightness of his body tensing on my organ. I looked down at where we met, this skinny kid's hips against all that defined muscle, this guy who had two sorority girls begging for him in a video, bent over a car seat taking every inch of me because I decided he would. I put a hand flat on the middle of his back and pushed him down harder onto the ledge and started to move, feeling like I had no natural rhythm, hoping that my size made up for lack of experience, if that even mattered in this context.

I propped the phone in the back window ledge, angled down, so it caught his face and the town both. Then I picked it back up and held it low behind us, showing my ass and the whole length of me disappearing into him as our balls almost touched. I heard my own voice come out of me talking for the camera.

"Look at you," I said. "Big tough guy. Look how much cock you can take."

"Say the thing," he said into the fabric of the car. "Please."

"You're my good boy," I said, and drove into him hard enough to bounce him forward slightly. He made a strange sound as his body startled, then relaxed back onto me. 

"You like fucking me," he said. "You like owning my ass."

I gripped his muscular cheeks in my hands. "Good boy ass."

I leaned forward for a different angle, and got a fist in his hair. I pulled his head back so his throat stretched into one long line, and held the phone up to catch his face like that, wrecked on cock, the jawline that could be a model, slack and open, and I could feel myself getting close just from the look of him in the little screen, knowing he was my bitch tonight.

I switched angles twice more because I wanted all of it, the front, the back, his hands gripping the seat ledge, my hips smacking against him loud in the small space. He kept begging for the words and I kept giving them to him, calling him mine, calling him a good boy, telling him how bad everyone who ever wanted him would lose it if they saw him like this. That was the part that got me: not his body, but the distance I had ascended in conquering him.

"I'm gonna cum inside you," I said.

"Do it," he said, but he sounded scared. "Cum inside me."

I grabbed his hips with both hands, dropping the phone on the seat still recording us from below now. I pumped into him rapidly and got myself to the edge fast, burying to the hilt as I let it go. I felt myself throb and squirt into him, in long, hard pulses while he shook and pushed back onto me for every one of them. 

"I can feel it," he muttered, almost to himself.

I stayed in him until I was empty, his back heaving and my legs turned to jelly underneath me.

We slowly peeled our sweaty bodies apart, ending up in the front again, both of us exhausted from sex in a strange position, wrung out like dish towels. He had his seat leaned back and one arm behind his head and I could still see the shine on his stomach in the parking-light glow. I looked at his nude form. It was peak masculinity. His abs were little hills, and there were eight of them, pointing right down to a hairy dick that screamed "man".

"That was the first time I'd ever done anything with a guy," he said, out of nowhere, looking through the windshield. 

"Yesterday, I mean. In the park. I always thought about it. Like for years, but I thought it was just a porn thing. Besides a few minor incidents with my buddies over the years, but they weren't like you, and I never..." He turned his hand over. "You were just standing there flashing your dick and I kind of knew it was time. I kind of lost my mind."

"I just thought you were a lady-killer stud," I said.

"Well," he said, "Until yesterday, I guess I was. Or I still am. Whatever. This feels like a release."

He laughed like he was realizing something for the first time. "Okay, well, to be honest, my porn's been all big dicks for like, years. Then it was, like, guys. Just guys. With big dicks." He gestured a lazy little circle at the two of us. "Send me the videos from tonight, by the way. I wanna see all of them."

I picked my phone up off the console and started scrolling back through what I'd shot, thumb-dragging up through the clips, his face in the back, the low angle, the one where he begged.

"It's a lot of my dick," I said.

"Perfect."

"And you moaning."

He got quiet for a second.

"I talked to Brody, by the way," he said, while I was scrolling. "Today. Felt him out about it. I don't think he knows anything. I don't know how he even would." 

He blew out a breath. "Hoping he was just randomly saying hi to you."

"Yeah," I said, only half listening, tapping clips to include them in the message, one after another. "Yeah, he was normal about it. Seems fine. Everyone at school is sort of talking about my cock today. Maybe it was just that."

I hit send on the batch, watched it churn up the little loading bars, and put the phone face-down on my thigh.

He rolled his head toward me and reached over and put a hand on my leg, working up slowly as the blood returned to my crotch, and I let my head go back against the seat as he leaned down to take me in again. This time he was rubbing himself at the same time. I was just starting to wonder when he was going to want me back in his ass when he stopped.

"Wait," he said. He was frowning as he reached for his phone. "Why didn't I get a text from you?"

"I sent them," I said, and reached down and turned my phone over to show him it went through, the thread right there where I'd left it. 

Except it wasn't Jake's name at the top of it.

It was Brody's. Because he'd been talking about his brother, saying his name while I scrolled and tapped and send. I had sent it to the wrong person without looking. My eyes went wide as I scrambled to delete the texts. I had dropped every single clip into it.

To my horror, under the stack of videos in the message chain, the little words appeared, "Read".

I turned and looked at Jake.

"Fuck."