Drama Club Reunion

Martin turned the shower tap on, placing his greasy hand under the water to check the temperature. White, sticky seed was dripping from his happy trail, cascading into his brown, curly pubes, and onto his still-swollen cock. He took the hand that wasn’t waiting for the hot water in the shower and pulled the gland of his dick away from his body, massaging it as the final drops of crystal-colored ejaculate came out on his fingers.

“Water’s warm!” he shouted into the bedroom. “Come join, handsome.”

The athlete in the other room sauntered in. Martin smirked as he assessed the gorgeous pile of muscles he’d just brought to orgasm—the broad shoulders curving as he passed through the bedroom doorframe and into the small bathroom; the fat, brown cock glistening in lube, hanging freely between his massive legs; the sharp, manly jaw, and the slightly elegant way he carried his body, displaying a juxtaposition of his innate masculinity and feminine spirit. What a man. A strong, aggressive, soft, beautiful, confident gay man.

Felipe slapped Martin’s ass as he entered the room, and they both laughed as they hopped in the shower. Felipe took soap in his hands and lathered up, wiping down Martin’s jockish body. His furry tits, with just the right amount of grizzly colored hair on them, yielded to his vague six-pack, that brown happy trail that pointed a straight arrow to his heavy, white penis. Felipe scrubbed the underside of Martin’s balls, hanging loose between his toned legs, and grabbing once again at his hairy peach of an ass. They resumed kissing.

“Okay, so I think maybe we discovered that you’re a top,” Felipe laughed, flashing that wide, ear-to-ear grin that took over most of his face. Martin laughed.

“You think so?” he vocal fried. “Well look at me. Martin Rich, certified top daddy.”

“I think we should keep doing this,” Felipe said, locking into Martin’s blue-green eyes.

“Oh yeah? Well if that’s what you think,” he teased, raising one furry eyebrow. “I also think we should keep doing this.” Martin was glowing. He’d had a feeling this was coming. He and Felipe had been hooking up for about a month now—no, more like 3 weeks. They’d met at a birthday gathering where they were both brought as plus-ones. Neither knew the actual birthday boy. They first hooked up that night; Martin sucked Felipe’s dick, Felipe sucked Martin’s dick, Martin ate out Felipe’s ass until Felipe busted, and then Martin jerked off on Felipe’s hole. It was a fun, if brief, fling.

They ran into each other by accident about a week later, and ended up hooking up again. This time, Martin offered to bottom, but he wasn’t quite prepared, so they decided to change tack and jerk off to porn together. They busted at the same time, their tongues entwined, while Martin’s computer screen played some early 2000s studio scene where a tall muscle bottom cums hands-free while riding another man’s cock.

Their third dalliance was finally planned, and Martin actually prepped this time, making for a thoroughly enjoyable ass-eating from Felipe. Felipe later penetrated Martin’s furry hole for a few moments, and Martin busted almost immediately, his prostate exploding with sensitivity as Felipe’s 8-incher plowed into it. Felipe jerked himself off onto his hole, licking it up and kissing it into Martin’s mouth. They both found it incredibly hot, but Martin was beginning to feel insecure about his bottoming prospects.

And then came tonight, when Martin finally tried his hand at topping Felipe in that firm little ass of his. They found their cadence within a minute, Felipe riding Martin’s cock, his defined pecks bouncing in front of him as he slapped his prostate on Martin’s erection. Then, Martin was hitting it from the back, admiring the perfect arch of Felipe’s spine as Felipe grinded his juicy donker into Martin’s dick.

They went for a while like this, Felipe moaning out Martin’s name, begging him for more, crying out “is that all you got?” Martin clenched his abs, and used the ass muscles he was doing squats ad infinitum to build, propelling himself into that supple booty until Felipe was crying out in Spanish, “sí, papi, sí.” Felipe shot his load with Martin railing him from behind, before turning around and sucking him to completion. They snowballed their cum, and Felipe let it drip from his mouth onto Martin’s abs. The kissing, the cum, the lube, the saliva, the sweat, the passion, the undeniable chemistry, the budding romance. They’d found their rhythm.

He just knew that Felipe was going to ask him to be boyfriends.

“I mean,” Felipe continued as they showered, “we should keep doing this when I get back to New York.”

“You’re traveling?” he asked, now washing Felipe’s body with his melon-flavored body scrub.

“Well, technically I already am traveling,” he said, that cute, broad smile covering his face again. “So...I kind of didn’t tell you that I don’t live in New York.”

“I guess that never really came up.”

“Yeah, I live in Chicago. I’m here on contract for one month.”

“On contract?”

“Yeah, with the dancing company.”

“You’re a dancer?” Martin scratched his ribs, wracking his brain. “Wow, we really didn’t learn anything about each other.”

“We learned you’re a top!” Felipe consoled. “But anyway, I’m going home on Tuesday, but I’ll be back in New York probably in, like, 4 months. Or, no. Six months. For my sister’s bachelorette.”

“So you don’t want to be my boyfriend?” Martin whined like a kid, his dark eyebrows arched cutely, his lower lip making an exaggerated pout. He had perfected this look over the years, the mock sadness, the performative boo-boo face. It was Martin’s way to add a little irony to any instance of actual emotion. If he was mocking the idea of sadness or regret or god-forbid feelings, then no one could accuse him of actually experiencing any of those things.

“I don’t think it makes sense,” Felipe said, his voice calm. “You get it, right? We don’t even know each other.”

“Of course,” Martin said, rinsing soap off of his plump ass. He really did get it, even if the fake relationship he’d begun to invent in his head was now, quite abruptly, over. “Dude, text me whenever. And tell me when you’re back in New York.”

“You could come to Chicago,” he said, his boyish grin growing.

“Only for the pizza,” he said. They made out as the hot water ran.