Take My Boyfriend: Part One (Patreon)

I'm making an unexpected change. I know I only just shared part one of the new story I'd tentatively titled Trade, but right now when I try to write more I'm just not feeling it. I'll come back to it when the inspiration hits, because I still think it would be fun to write. But right now there's another idea that I've been much more excited about.

This one is going to be pretty short - it's not a several chapters long story like my last one. All the action is over a single weekend and a single cucking experience. It's an opportunity for me to try and make each character a bit deeper and hopefully tell a story in enough detail to really make you feel like you're there. Hopefully, if I do an ok job of it. I guess we'll see!

This one is also a little darker than the lighthearted, Bob's-Burgers-esque story of sex puns I'd been working on with Trade. It's exploring what's definitely not a healthy relationship between a cuck and his long-time friend, but hopefully it's a hot scenario nevertheless. I know some for some of you that'll be music to your ears and for others you've just let out a big sigh of disappointment. But give it a read, and who knows, you might like it - and if not, Trade will be more up your alley and it's still coming!

So, here's part one of what I'm tentatively calling Take My Boyfriend.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done this. I almost certainly shouldn’t have done this. But I was here now, and soon they would be too. It’s not like I could stop the wheels I’d already set in motion.

Anyway, it was bound to happen at some point so I might as well get on with it. There’s no point fighting nature.

As I waited I fiddled with the coaster on the table, turning it around ninety degrees at a time and tapping each edge on the table, creating a rhythm like a ticking clock counting down towards the moment of truth. I tapped my phone to wake it so I could check the time again, even though I knew it had only been a minute since I last checked it which meant it was still almost ten minutes till they were supposed to arrive. I shouldn’t have got here so early. All it meant was more time sitting alone letting my nerves get the better of me.

Steven arrived early though. That’s like him. He’s conscientious and highly organised. I was seated on the side of the table that looked across to the door, so I saw him as soon as he walked into the bar. I got butterflies when I saw him enter the room, I always did, even though it had been two months now and the novelty should have probably worn off, shouldn’t it? 

It wasn’t just that he was handsome. He was handsome — that diamond face with angular jaws that met in a delicate chin, the bottom lip that was just a little more plump and pouty than the top one and always looked like it needed to be kissed, that lopsided smile he always did that would crease a dimple into his right cheek — but it wasn’t just that. It was that serious look he’d give when he was listening intently. The poise he carried himself with, as though he’d been to finishing school and been trained to carry a book on his head. 

And it was the way he looked at me, as though he was feeling the same things about me that I was about him. Maybe that was just projection, or wishful thinking. We weren’t even serious yet. But I could still imagine anyway, and I liked it.

This one was a keeper. Which made it a shame, I guess, that I wasn’t going to keep him for long.

I tried to catch his eye as he scanned the room looking for me; when he finally did spot me he gave a little wave and headed over. He sat down opposite me at the table, leaned over and kissed me. “Hey,” he said. “You been waiting long?”

I shook my head, lied. “A few minutes.”

He asked how my day had been. I had to think about it for a few seconds because my mind had been so consumed with thoughts of this evening’s meeting that I’d all but forgotten the contents of my day. It had been fine, I told him. I asked about his day, he told me about work, some drama with some project. I was too churned up inside to pay attention, as much as I would have liked to know everything about his life.

I had an eye on the door constantly, so I noticed the instant Hunter walked in. The whole room probably noticed Hunter walk in, to be honest, he has that kind of effect wherever he goes. No matter the size of the room he always manages to fill the space, become the focal point of the group, the room, wherever he is.

I never knew his secret to picking jeans but, man, he always looked good in them. Loose enough yet tight enough so you could tell he was blessed to both be packing and have a great ass. Maybe there was no secret, maybe if you have a body like that you look good in anything. His gunmetal grey t-shirt was also perfectly proportioned so that the armholes hugged his thick biceps and sat just tight enough across his chest to give you a clear impression of how good his body must look underneath. Caramel-brown hair stuck out from underneath the backwards cap on his head, giving fuckboy energy and looking like someone who didn’t take life too seriously.

Steven must have noticed some kind of change in me. Maybe it was the way my body tensed up at the sight of him. Maybe it was something written across my face. But it must have been obvious because he stopped talking and followed my eyes to the door.

“That him?” he asked. Maybe I was just imagining it, I don’t know, but I thought there was a hint of something in his voice that sounded a little like awe.

“Yep,” I said, burying my nerves and sounding as casual as I could. I gave Hunter a wave, and he headed over.

I got up from the table to greet him. He wrapped me up in a tight hug. “Hewie!” he growled as he enveloped me, “Good to see you, bro.”

When he let me go I gestured to Steven, who’d also stood. Hunter, this is my boyfriend Steven. Steven, Hunter.”

Steven put his hand out tentatively, but Hunter was having none of it. “Bring it in, bro,” he said, wrapping his broad chest and thick arms around Steven before he had time to think about it. By the time they were done Steven looked almost embarrassed.

“It’s good to meet you,” Hunter said to Steven. “I’d like to say Hewie’s told me all about you but that would be a lie. So I’m looking forward to finding out.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Steven said. He glanced at me before saying in a conspiratorial tone, “He hasn’t told me much about you either.”

“He’s pretty cagey, this one,” Hunter replied. “Let me get a drink and then we can compare notes.” He looked down at the table and when he saw no drink in front of Steven he asked him, “You want something?”

Steven put in his order for a gin and tonic, and Hunter disappeared to the bar. The two of us sat down, and in the long silence that followed I could sense that Steven wanted to say something but was holding back. I knew what it was, too: I knew he wanted to comment on how hot Hunter was, but he couldn’t think of a way of saying it that wouldn’t seem inappropriate. That was my theory, anyway. Maybe I was just projecting again. But I’d bet twenty bucks that I was bang on.

Hunter came back with the drinks and sat down. He raised his glass in a toast, and after we all knocked our glasses together he took a long skull, during which time I couldn’t help notice the way his thick, muscular neck pulsed with each gulp.

“So,” he said, putting his drink down. “Hit me with the origin story. Where did you guys meet, how did you get together, all of that?”

“We met about three months ago,” Steven replied. “Been seeing each other properly for two.”

“We met the traditional way,” I added. “Networking.” 

“By networking he means two photos on a grid,” Steven elaborated. I realised then that he must have assumed Hunter was straight. Easy enough mistake. I wondered how long till he’d realise.

“I got that,” Hunter said. “So Hewie catfished you and you still stuck around once you saw the real thing?”

“Dickhead,” I said, laughing. “All my shirtless pics were the real deal.”

“I’m sure, man,” he said. “Seriously though, you’re looking good my friend. You’ve obviously been working out.”

“Thanks.” It felt awkward taking his compliment, especially considering how scrawny — yet also flabby — I looked compared to his statuesque build. But it also felt good him noticing. “Yeah I joined a gym a few months ago, and I finally stuck with it this time.”

“Nice. Well if you ever need any pointers or anything, let me know.” I could tell me meant it genuinely, and that he would help me in a heartbeat. But it still felt a little condescending having him assume that he’d know better and I’d benefit from his guidance. Even if it was probably true.

“So you guys went to uni together,” Steven said. Not really a question, because I’d already told him that much. More of a conversation starter.

Hunter nodded as he took a swig of his beer. “First year we were in the same hall of residence. Second year we lived in a flat together.”

“And then?” Steven asked.

“I dropped out, he kept going,” Hunter said. He paused like he was going to continue, and I silently willed him to not mention anything about the flat I lived in during third year. 

“What was he like back then?” Steven asked.

Hunter thought about it for a second, and while he did I thought about how best to describe the version of myself I was when we lived together. A simp. A beta. An adoring fan. A sidekick. A horny little creep getting off on his best friend’s sexual conquests. 

“As a roommate? Best roommate you could ask for,” he said, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “Very responsible. Very tidy. I think we would have been living a pile of our own filth with our electricity cut off for unpaid bills if it wasn’t for Hewie.” I couldn’t argue with that, he was a slob, as were our other two roommates, and I’d managed everything. In truth, I’d been their bitch.

“And as a mate? Hewie’s one of the best guys you’ll ever meet,” Hunter said. “Loyal, thoughtful. Maybe was a bit uptight at times, but once you got a beer or two into him he could be pretty hilarious.”

“Is that right?” Steven said, looking at me with eyebrows raised. He’d never seen me have more than two cocktails in an evening since we’d been together; grown-ups don’t drink the way we did at university. “Maybe I’m going to need to get you drunk,” he said.

Honestly, maybe that would be a good idea tonight. Might help me settle those nerves, chill me out and let me fully enjoy what I knew was coming. On the other hand, I knew it wasn’t wise to do anything that might make me more emotional.

“It’s quite an honour to get to meet Hugh’s longest friend,” Steven said to Hunter.

“He told you about that?” Hunter replied, feigning mock surprise. Steven looked confused for a moment, till Hunter brought home the joke. “Did he tell you I’m his… thickest friend too?” A pretty poor pun, but I knew humour wasn’t the point. And when I saw Steven’s eyes drop involuntarily in the direction of Hunter’s crotch, even though it was hidden by the table, I knew that it had served its purpose.

For the next hour Hunter proceeded to share a bunch of stories from our uni days, all mildly embarrassing, but thankfully never touching on the truly shameful things I was desperate for him to keep quiet about. I was on edge the whole time though, wondering if the next sentence to come out of his mouth was going to be something that clued Steven in to just how pathetic I really was.

Steven, for his part, was clearly enthralled. I knew the look; I’d seen it on countless other guys, and girls, as he listened to Hunter’s stories and laughed at his jokes. So it was no surprise that when Hunter knocked back the last of his beer and suggested we go hang out at his place, Steven replied, “Sure,” a little too quickly and a little too enthusiastically, before guiltily looking at me to innocently ask, “Want to?”