by Van Barrett
“Oh, God, yeah!” I roared, my hand going to the back of his head.
His tongue swirled around my virgin rear. Tapped and traced my anal rim. He toyed with me. Poked me with his tongue, pressed me to the limit until I shut myself. And then, with a coy grin, he went to work. Gentle love bites, light nibbles. Until I opened for him again. A never-ending game of cat and mouse.
My swollen cock in Lane's fist. Even with his face between my cheeks, he'd never stopped stroking me. I grew fatter, thicker, longer – great spasms shot through my shaft and swelled in my tip.
“Laaaaaane!” I growled breathlessly when he'd taken me so high with his tongue, I wasn't sure I'd ever come back down. I couldn't stop convulsing.
Smug, Lane switched tactics. He ran his tongue up my tingling, quivering manhood. When he reached the summit, he slurped and sucked it down. His tight lips slid lower, lower, lower – until his nose touched my pubic hair.
“Ohh Lane!” I cooed.
His head bobbed up and down my length. Lane set his finger at my ass. I fought it at first, but quickly opened. Lane pushed in. He finger-fucked me. Gently, his finger curled in and out.
“Ohhhh!”
Lane found my prostate. Hell, so did I – I never knew what it felt like it until that very moment. He rubbed it. It swelled under his finger.
And just like that, he'd broken me.
“Oh my God! Oh my God I'm fucking cumming!” My chest, my abs, my hips all quaked.
Lane let my cock pop out of his mouth. He wanted to watch the fireworks. Still his finger stroked and massaged my prostate. He milked me for my cum – one great blast after another.
“Uahh!”
Spurt. A long, creamy thread shot high into the air and over my shoulder.
“Ahh!”
Spurt. Another thick streak splattered onto my neck and shoulder.
“Ahh!”
Spurt. Spurt, spurt, spurt.
Lane watch, astonished, as I went off like a geyser. I drizzled my hairy chest and abs with my own seed, and made a mess on the floor behind me.
“Whoa,” Lane gasped when it was over. “That was hot, River. Oh my God.”
I laughed, my whole belly shaking, hiding my face in my hands. “I've never cum like that before, dude.”
“So much of it!” Lane crawled up my belly and licked my hot load off my hard pecs. “Oh, man. Yes. You're delicious.”
“Oh, damn, dude … that's hot.”
My mouth hung open while I watched Lane slurp up my cream. “Damn, Lane.”
He sucked his fingers dry. “Love it.”
“Fuck.” I grunted while I watched him clean up. And when he was done, I couldn't help myself, I had to say it – “So, … You still want me to make you that protein shake?”
Lane chortled and gave me a good whack on the side. “I obviously just had it, River.”
***
Lane had to run to the bathroom to get me a towel. I patted myself dry.
“Does cum stain leather?” I asked, a little shell-shocked as I wiped up the big mess I'd made on the couch cushions.
“Uhhh. I don't think so?” His eyes rolled upward in contemplation. “But I dunno.”
I gave him a panicked stare. “Shit. You think it's gonna be alright?”
“I dunno, River.” Lane laughed my concerns away. “You're gonna be a millionaire next year, aren't you? Just buy a new one.”
“I guess so.” I chuckled bashfully. “Sounds so weird when you say it like that though.”
“Well, it's true, isn't it?”
“Fingers crossed.” I held up my two fingers. “I like the things I have, though. I wanna keep 'em around.”
“Yeah? You're not just gonna spring for an upgrade?”
“No, I don't think so. Not my style.”
“Tell me about your style.” Lane jumped onto the cleaned-up couch and pressed himself into my body. “Tell me what River Brame will be like as a millionaire.”
“Probably … not much different. I don't think I'll have the desire to go on a bunch of shopping sprees or spend it all on a bunch of luxury things. Hell, I probably won't even have the time.”
Lane chuffed at that last part. “Yeah …”
“You know, I think I'll be one of those boring millionaires whose lives don't really change all that much. I'll be the guy who still walks around the neighborhood wearing sweat pants and sneakers, and a fanny pack. And when people hear the rumors, they won't believe it – 'wait, he's a millionaire? No way!'”
“Oh, Lord, River. Please don't be that guy.”
“But I'll have a team of financial people who know what they're doing, so I can invest my earnings in a bunch of cool, exciting stuff, and then I'll have even more money.”
“So you can have more money that you won't spend?”
“Uh huh. Exactly. But hey, I'll enjoy knowing it's there. In my bank account and tied up in other assets. And that's where I'll enjoy it.”
Lane laughed. “You're like a dog.” He ran his fingers up and down my abs. “My Grandma always said a dog tastes a meal not in his mouth, but in his stomach.”
I pondered that. “Huh. Yeah, that makes sense.”
I wrapped my arm around Lane and pulled him closer. “Hey. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“My pleasure.”
“So like, when could I … er … you know.”
“What?” Lane blinked his long eyelashes at me.
“When could I--” I lowered my voice “take one.”
“You mean, take a dick in the ass?”
“Yeah. Hypothetically speaking.”
“You're not ready,” he laughed.
“Why not?”
“Do you want to, River?”
“Sure! I mean … maybe someday.”
“Well, that's the first step, at least.” He snuggled in closer. “You gotta want it. Second step is … taking it slow and easy. Stretching it.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. You have to work your way up to it.”
“Damn. Sounds hard.”
“Well it's certainly not easy. But once you can do it … it feels pretty good. As I'm sure you can imagine.”
“Huh. I thought you could just ram it in there.”
He recoiled back. “God no. I'm glad you didn't try to just ram it in me last weekend – you would've gotten a stern kick to the face!”
“Well.” I shrugged. “Guess I learned something new.”
Lane peered up at me. “So how did you like your ass being played with, Mr. River?”
I grinned. “It was alright.”
“Bullshit!” He slapped at my chest. “'Alright.' You should've heard yourself moaning and groaning.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I paused. “Seriously though? Fuck, man. Once you found my prostate, it was over for me. I was done – just wrecked. Why don't guys know about that shit?”
Lane raised a palm. “Uhhh, hello? We do?”
“Yeah …”
“You mean, why don't straight guys know about that?” His lips cinched into a small 'o' shape.
“Ha.” I scratched my head. “Yeah, I guess.”
“They're just afraid, River. Afraid to branch out.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“And see, when you branch out, you find new things you like. Things you never knew you liked.”
“Yup.”
“So what're you gonna get next time you're at Toasted Frog?”
“Uhh.” I stalled. “Probably the burger and fries?”
Lane went limp in my hold and let out a desperate, wailing groan – “waaaaaaah.”
“The other stuff you got was good though! I'm just boring, alright! I told you! I like what I like.”
Lane went quiet. I squeezed him tight again.
“And I … I like you, Lane.”
“Aw. I like you too, River.”
My hand trailed down his waist. “… I guess I should return the favor, huh?”
“Oh, you don't have to do that.”<
br />
“Naw.” I slunk off the couch and onto the floor. “But I want to.”
Lane sat up straight, his legs opening for me. “Well then! I certainly won't stop you.”
***
After teasing him with my tongue, I pushed my lips down Lane's length. He noticed right away – with a gasp and a sexy arch in his back – that I could fit more of him down my throat than before.
“Whoa! You've gotten better!” he panted.
“Well,” I said as I came up for air, “I've been practicing.”
I liked kneeling before him. I liked being between his thighs with my lips wrapped around his cock. It made me feel … powerful, really. That's what I'd learned about sucking cock – the act itself was a gift. And it feels better to give than to receive, right? The gifts I received in return were the signs of his pleasure. The breathy, sexy noises he made as I sucked him tighter and sloppier. He wriggled and squirmed in the couch. Whether he was buried in my throat or nestled between my cheeks, I felt his every spasm, tingle, and jump.
I knew he was about to cum when his manhood swelled with a rising pressure. The panicked but ecstatic look in his eye said it all. He was about to blow.
“River, River,” he cooed, his head falling back. “I'm close, I'm real close!”
I knew he'd meant it as a warning. I wasn't brave enough the first time to let him finish in my mouth. I was determined this time, though. When the moment came, he put his hand on my forehead and tried to shove me off him. But I didn't budge. Instead, I fluttered my tongue against his underside, coaxing him for his seed.
“Hrrrrgh!” Lane bellowed as he spilled his seed in my mouth. It shot at the back of my throat. I swallowed and let it all roll down. I sucked the rest out of him and swallowed that down, too. Hell, that was easy.
Lane's eyes looked wild. He struggled for air. “Holy shit, River.”
I let him pop out of my mouth with a sneaky smile. “Hm?”
“You're … really good at that.”
“Thanks.”
With both of us now spent, we laid out on the couch – I spooned him – and watched the hockey games. One ended and another game came on. We might have fallen in and out of sleep.
When we both woke again, it was late. The games were over. A round table of talking heads were discussing all the games they'd seen tonight and who played great and who played terrible and what coaches' jobs were on the line.
Lane grumbled. “I should get going.”
“Really? It's so late though. You can stay if you want.”
“Yeah? I don't wanna intrude on you or anything.”
“Nah, man. It's fine. Just be warned – I do have to leave for practice early in the morning.”
“That's cool. I've got morning class so I'll leave with ya.”
I turned out the lights and we made our way to my bed.
***
My alarm went off at 6:00. We both staggered out of bed. I guess the morning after a night like last night will always be a little bit strange. When you're still tired and not thinking like you normally do and all the overflowing emotions from the night before have retreated and ebbed safely back into the sea. We had my normal breakfast – hot oatmeal with banana. We were both a little quiet, with only a stray comment here and there, followed by a sleepy laugh or nod.
“Hey. Thanks again for bringing dinner last night.”
“No problem.”
I hopped in the shower and put on my athletic under gear for practice. When I came out, Lane was waiting to say bye.
“I'm gonna head out now, River.”
“Alright, bud.”
We hugged.
“Hey. Call me sometime,” Lane said quietly.
“Yeah. Totally.” I paused. “I'm pretty busy the next few days. Class and practice today and tomorrow, then we're flying out to Boston for the first round of the NCAA tourny.” I shook my arms excitedly. “I'm so pumped.”
“Ha. I bet.” Lane put his hands in his pockets. “Well, you sure sound busy.”
“Maybe we can hang when I get back?”
“Sure.”
“Do you mind watching Deke again Friday and Saturday? If not, no prob, I'll ask--”
“Hey, I'd be glad to.”
“Thanks.” I paused. “Did you – happen to talk to your friend, by chance? About her and Jono?”
“Ahh, yeah, I did. Sounds like they're split up, alright. That's all I know. Well that, and Jono might be a jealous, possessive creep who tried to spy on her when she wouldn't officially take the girlfriend title.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. But don't take my word as gospel, because I didn't get much in the way of details. It's kind of hard to bring up, River. We normally share everything, but that also means she knows something's up with me, so I couldn't press too--”
“Wait, what?” my eyes narrowed. “She knows what, Lane? You didn't tell her about this, did you?”
“No.” He folded his arms. “I haven't told her anything about us, River. Just, you know, besides the obvious.”
“O … kay,” I trailed off. “Maybe I misunderstood what you said?”
“I –” He rolled his eyes. “It's difficult, alright?”
“As long as you're not telling people, Lane. If your friend tells Jono …” I shook my head. The ramifications were too much to even consider.
“I know, I know, okay? I get it. It's a tricky situation.”
“Yeah. Sure is.” I shook my head.
Damn.
“Well. Uh. I guess I'll see you later?” Lane grumbled. He looked both a little sour and upset.
“Yeah. Later man.”
“Bye. And good luck in your tournament.”
“Thanks.”
Lane walked through the door and I shut it after him. I leaned against the door, my head falling against the solid wood with a hearty bonk.
Fuck. I hope this doesn't blow up in my face.
34
The Spiel
– River –
On the flight to Boston, I sat next to Jono. He'd made himself hard to reach in recent weeks – he wouldn't answer phone calls or texts – and the only time I could really talk with him was with everyone else around. Which wasn't ideal, obviously. But it's what I had to work with.
Once the plane reached its cruising altitude, and everyone else put their ear-buds in, I got his attention.
“What's up, man?” I asked, shaking his knee.
I snapped him out of his trance – he'd been watching the land pass by out the window. “Huh?”
“How are you?”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
I chuckled. “You're so on edge lately bud. Just seeing if you're alright.”
“I'm fine, River.” But Jono didn't seem fine, he seemed annoyed. He stared out the window again.
I tugged on his sleeve. “Hey bud.”
“Yeah?”
“You know you can talk to me if you got something you wanna get off your chest.”
“Well, I don't.”
“Okay.” An uncomfortable silence came between us. I tried to change strategies. “Senior year, eh?”
“Yeah, what about it? You about to get all sappy on me, River?” He scoffed. He was trying to act light-hearted and jokey, like the Jono we all knew and loved, but I knew there was something darker lying under it.
“Maybe. So what if I am?” I grinned. “Remember freshman year? How four years of college seemed like it'd be an eternity? Four years, four chances to win it all.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Then, freshman year, we lost. And sophomore year too. And then junior year. Suddenly, here we are. This is it. Our last shot at it.”
“I wanna go out on top, Jono.”
“I'm sure.” He shook his head. “Thing is, even if we lose, you still come out on top.”
I leaned back, a little surprised by his tone. “What's that mean?”
“Nothin'. Forget it.” He turned to watch out the window again.
I sighed. “We need you, Jono.”
“Yeah, I get it. Thanks for the pep talk, captain.”
I swallowed. Yeesh. Okay. Maybe it was worse than I thought with him?
I didn't bother Jono for the rest of the flight. He somberly stared out his window the whole way to Boston.
When the plane landed, we boarded a bus that took us to our hotel for the night. We'd spend Friday night here in Boston. Saturday morning, we'd have a pre-game skate. At 7 PM, we'd play the Huskies. Whoever wins, advances to Round 2 of the tournament.
Excited for the game tomorrow, the whole team went to bed early.
***
We had our morning skate at 10 AM. Coach J went over the game-plan with us and we ran a few drills, but mostly we kept it light. Coach wanted our legs to be fresh. The team was a little bit nervous – there's always that ominous, knotty feeling in your gut before a tournament begins – but we tried to keep the atmosphere fun.
After the skate, we showered up. Outside the dressing room I spotted Carolina's team rep, Alan Rickert. He wore an expensive suit and a derby hat. He waved me over. Coach J stopped me and whispered that I didn't have to talk to him if I didn't want to. But I wanted to put this talk out of my mind and not have it hanging over me during the game.
“Hey Alan. Been a while.”
“Yes it has, River.” He nodded, his mouth pulled into a slight grimace.
“You come out here to watch the tournament?” I joked, knowing that wasn't the case at all.
“Ha. You know me, River. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't try to sell you on Carolina one last time.”
“I know, Al. Go ahead. Give me the spiel.”
“I've tried to give you time and space to think about this decision. The biggest decision you're about to make of your career.”
“And I appreciate it.”
“You know we're in the NHL playoffs this year, right? And we've still got a roster spot for you, River. Top six. First line, even! You'll be our go-to guy. We wanna win the Cup, River, and with you we know we can. We'll even wait for the tournament to end. All you have to do is sign the papers and make the jump.”
“… And leave UND in the process, and not get my degree …”
“You can always get that piece of paper later, River. I'm sure you could work something out with the school so all your course-work this year wasn't for naught.”
