Rebel
Ballsy Boys #1
K.M. Neuhold
Nora Phoenix
Rebel (Ballsy Boys Book One)
K.M. Neuhold and Nora Phoenix
Copyright ©2018 K.M. Neuhold and Nora Phoenix
Cover design: K.M. Neuhold and Nora Phoenix
Editing: Rebecca J. Cartee at Editing by Rebecca
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without the written permission of the copyright holder, except in case of brief quotations and embodied within critical reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.
This book contains sexually explicit material which is suitable only for mature readers.
Contents
Prologue
1. Troy
2. Rebel
3. Troy
4. Troy
5. Rebel
6. Rebel
7. Troy
8. Rebel
9. Troy
10. Rebel
11. Troy
12. Rebel
13. Rebel
14. Troy
15. Rebel
16. Troy
17. Rebel
18. Troy
19. Rebel
20. Troy
21. Rebel
22. Troy
23. Rebel
24. Troy
25. Rebel
26. Troy
27. Rebel
28. Troy
29. Rebel
30. Troy
31. Rebel
32. Troy
33. Troy
34. Rebel
35. Troy
36. Rebel
KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR MORE BALLSY BOYS!
Meet K.M. Neuhold
Meet Nora Phoenix
Prologue
Break-up artist for hire:
Why go through the hassle and mess of breaking up with someone when you can pay me to do it for you?
You can choose the method or just let me worry about the dirty details, and you can focus on picking your next lady or lad.
Don’t stay stuck in a bad relationship a minute longer. Email me now!
$100 up-front via PayPal or Venmo. The cost might be higher if your specific request is extremely out of the ordinary.
1
Troy
My stiff muscles twitch and spasm, letting me know I slept in one spot way too long last night. Which can only mean one thing… Someone broke my rule and slept over.
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer for patience, before rolling over to figure out who the fuck I took to bed last night, and what gave him the dumbass idea he could break my rules and spend the night?
Beside me is a cute little twink I’m sure I had a blast fucking last night. And the taste of garbage tequila in my mouth lets me know why I can’t remember a damn thing.
“Hey,” I rasp, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Um…” Fuck, I don’t have the first clue what his name is. “Dude, get up.”
He grumbles and rubs his face. When his eyes blink open, his expression goes from sleepy and annoyed to sultry. “Good morning, stud. You want another round and then we can talk about breakfast?”
“No, man. You’ve gotta go.”
His eyes harden and his lips pucker into a full-on bitch fit face. “Sorry,” he spits out sarcastically.
I settle back and watch as he gets dressed in a huff and then stomps out of my apartment without a backward glance.
I’m not always so dickish, but there’s an art to severing ties with someone. Not everyone needs to be dumped the same. Some need a gentle hand, others to be tricked into thinking it was their idea, and some people need to be told to fuck right off afterward.
Maybe I know too much about cutting someone out and not enough about getting anyone to stick around.
I sit up and attempt to roll the tension out of my shoulders. When that doesn’t work, I reach for my laptop. While it starts up, I get comfortable beneath the cool sheets. I reach down and give my semi-hard cock a lazy stroke.
My screen comes to life, and I click immediately on my favorite site, saved to the favorites bar. Ballsy Boys, the best damn gay porn site in existence.
A little shiver goes through me as the crystal blue, virtual eyes of Rebel meet mine. I was hooked on Rebel from first sight. His broad shoulders and stubble-covered jaw got my dick hard with nothing more than a glance.
When he fucks, he gets this passionately tortured expression that drives me fucking insane. I could get caught up for hours watching his toned ass flex as he thrusts into a greedy hole. And his moans, oh, his moans are otherworldly.
My stomach jumps with excitement when I spot a newly uploaded video labeled Rebel Tries Fleshjacking.
Be still my beating heart.
I click on it, and Rebel’s shy smile fills the screen. I’ve wondered if this is really the way Rebel is or if this is just a character. And if this is a character, who is he really? I know Rebel isn’t his real name, but what do his friends and real-life lovers call him? Does he fuck the same off-camera as he does on, or is that an act too?
“So, tell me Rebel, have you ever used a Fleshjack before?” an off-screen voice asks as Rebel holds up the box to the camera to show off for the company that paid for the publicity.
“No, I’ve never had trouble finding a willing partner,” Rebel banters.
“Are you excited to see how it feels?”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it feels better than the real thing. If that’s the case, maybe I’ll give up getting out of bed altogether.” He winks at the camera, and my cock thickens under my unhurried playing.
Rebel answers a few more questions, but I tune out the chatter and focus on his full lips, wishing like hell I could feel them wrapped around my cock.
Maybe Ballsy Boys is hiring; that would pay for the rest of my degree. Then I’d get paid and get the chance at fucking or getting fucked by Rebel. Not a bad idea.
It’s a throw-away notion. I can’t see doing porn myself, and who knows how it could affect my future prospects in video game development. In many ways, these days, being a game designer is a public persona, and with all the judgment and political correctness, it’s easier to avoid a misstep as epic as fucking on camera. Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with doing porn, but unfortunately the world doesn’t always see it that way.
Rebel lays back with the Fleshjack in one hand and his hardening cock in the other. I match his strokes, my eyes roaming over his body the same way I wish my tongue could. What I wouldn’t give to taste every inch of his tan flesh or run my fingers through the dusting of hair on his chest and stomach.
He slicks his cock with lube, a sticky sloshing clearly audible. Then the camera pans in for a close up as he attempts to position his tip at the now slippery entrance of the toy.
My ass twitches, imaging Rebel lining up his cock to fuck me. I reach between my legs with my free hand and tease my middle finger around my fluttering hole. On screen, Rebel's broad, purplish head enters the toy with even more obscenely wet slurping sounds.
“Ooooh. Wow.” Rebel gasps, his hand stilling.
The veins on his thick cock throb, and his balls are already pulled tight. My mouth waters imagining the musky taste on my tongue as I’d suck and lick his full, heavy balls.
My own cock aches, a clear sting of pre-cum rolls down along the little V where the head meets my shaft. I gather it with my thumb and rub it around the head, shuddering with restraint. I could come in seconds flat if I just fucked into my fist hard and fast. But I want to draw it out. I want it to build until I’m sure I’ll go insane if I don’t come.
Rebel strokes himself with the Fleshjack in a long, smooth motion. His hips twitch, and his breathing is heavy. He lets out desperate little moans that grab onto my balls and don’t let go. That’s what I fucking love about Rebel. You don’t feel like he’s hamming it up for the camera. It feels like every gasp and moan is just for you.
“Fuck, this is really good. It’s so fucking tight. Holy fuck.”
I can see the tremble in Rebel’s muscles that lets me know he’s close, so I speed up my own tugs, adding a little twist at the head.
“Oh fuck, fuck. I want to come so bad.”
“Yeah, come,” I encourage through the screen.
Rebel lets out a long, low moan, whips the toy off, and grips himself with his other hand. I gasp out my own impending pleasure as I put my feet flat on my bed and thrust into the tunnel of my fist.
I close my eyes and just listen to every strangled groan as Rebel is wracked by his orgasm. I imagine him kneeling over me, thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock onto my stomach, his head thrown back and his muscles taut.
The tight ring of my ass clamps down around my finger shoved inside, and heat rushes from my center and out through my cock. Every hot spurt drains the tension I’d been feeling when I woke up.
I open my eyes just a slit as aftershocks ripple through me. Rebel’s expression isn’t far off mine as he plays with the cooling cum on his skin and uses his eyes to flirt with the camera just a few seconds longer.
“Thanks for cumming,” he says and then winks again before the screen goes blank.
Fuckin A’, I love my Ballsy Boys.
I let out a long breath and close my laptop. Then I reach for a crumpled shirt beside the bed and use it to mop up my release. I chuck the soiled shirt in the direction of my hamper and grab a joint out of the little box beside my bed. I light it and inhale the acrid smoke into my lungs, holding it until my head starts to swim a little and my lungs and throat burn.
Somewhere in my apartment, I can hear the alarm notification on my phone chiming.
“Oh, fuck.”
I’m going to be late to my morning class if I don’t get my ass out the door. I take a few more hits before stubbing out my joint and placing it back in my stash box. Then I roll out of bed and throw on a pair of worn in jeans and a red henley. I run my fingers through my hair, likely making a worse mess of it, but fuck it.
I find my phone under my couch, and then I’m out the door, only a few minutes late. So basically, I’m crushing it this morning.
2
Rebel
The downstairs neighbors are at it again, so I plug my headphones in to listen to some Fall Out Boy while I’m reading a fascinating book on script writing. I swear to god, if I’m eighty years old, I do not want to be spending my life fighting with my significant other.
Fred and Grace are super nice to me, but apparently, they’ve gotten to the point where they can’t stand each other anymore. All I hear from them is bitching and fighting, and at that age, it’s not pretty.
My mood improves slightly now that I’m able to drown them out, but happy is still a ways off. The fact that Tom hasn’t replied to my last text may or may not have something to do with my mood.
If you send a guy a dick pic, the least he can do is reply with a thumbs up or something. Especially if it’s such a nice dick, like mine.
I’ve seen my fair share of cocks in my line of work, trust me, and mine compares rather favorably, if I do say so myself. It’s a good eight inches, but more importantly, it’s thick and perfectly curved upward. Seriously, when I’m hard, it’s a fucking work of art.
It’s one of the reasons why I’m in the top ten of the most popular Ballsy Boys. What can I say? Everyone loves watching me fuck. Or get fucked.
I’m vers, so it doesn’t make any difference to me. I give as good as I take, and I’m especially popular for threesomes. One cock, two cocks, fucking me on both ends, all fine with me.
We get quite the number of applications from guys who think they’re Ballsy Boys material, but Bear, my boss, is highly selective. People think being a porn star is awesome, but the reality is that it’s damn hard work. Sure, you get paid to fuck, or get fucked, but it’s a lot more than that.
You have to have chemistry with people, be easy going, sexy. You need at least some acting skills, because trust me, after you’ve been fucked for three hours, the last thing you want to do is look ecstatic. But it’s the job, so we moan and act and come on command. Well, we try anyway. Some of us are better at it than others.
I glare at my phone. Why isn’t Tom answering my text? Do I text him again? God, no, I’m not that desperate. Right?
It’s not like we’re dating for real.
We met a few weeks back at Bottoms Up, the local gay bar slash club. I don’t do a lot of hook-ups, because I usually get enough sex on the job, but he had a great smile and a fan-fucking-tastic ass, so we had a quickie in the bathroom. We exchanged numbers, texted back and forth, had a mutually satisfying phone sex jerk-off, and hung out a few times.
He doesn’t know what I do, obviously.
If men don’t recognize me, I’m not telling them. It’s none of their fucking business, especially since I’m not looking for anything serious anyways.
Hell, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Not with this job. The only thing that seems to work is to find someone in the business and be willing to share.
No one wants to date a porn star, no matter how much they seem to be okay with it at first. After, like, five failed relationships, I should know.
I’m not saying they were all super serious, but all five of them broke things off with me over me doing porn. I guess technically, in three cases, I ended it, because I didn’t want to give in to an ultimatum of having to stop shooting porn. I don’t do well with demands like that.
But if Tom doesn’t know who I am and what I do, why the fuck is he ignoring me?
I almost drop the phone when it suddenly rings. Bossman is calling.
“Hey, Bear,” I say.
“I have a new kid that needs to be broken in, you up for it?”
Bear doesn’t do pleasantries, which I can appreciate. He’s extremely nice, but professional. “Sure. When and what were you thinking?”
“Brewer had to cancel a shoot ‘cause he has the flu, so any chance you could do today? I’d already booked all the equipment and crew, and the new kid is available.”
“No problem. What’s the angle?”
“He’s a cute little twink. He’s got that whole innocent look that goes perfectly with your sultry sexiness. Go for sweet, honest attraction. Shouldn’t be hard, the kid is highly fuckable. Lots of foreplay, kissing. And make him suck you, ‘cause I need to know if he can deepthroat. If not, we’ll need to teach him.”
Sounds like a perfect shoot, getting paid to basically make out with a cute twink. “If he needs lessons, let Brewer show him. Nobody sucks cock like him.”
Bear laughed. “Fuck, yeah.”
“So I’m strictly topping? Do I need to prep?”
If I know I’m bottoming, I always adapt my diet a little. Makes the prep a lot easier. Not that that would be an option on such short notice, but I would prep as best as I could, obviously.
Bear makes a noncommittal sound. “Pixie’s not interested in topping, which is good, ‘cause I’m a tad low on pure bottoms. Depending on how he does, I might let him rim you, but nothing more than that.”
I grin. “Pixie? Who the fuck picked that name?”
“I did. I swear to god, it’s the perfect name for him. Wait till you see him. He’s a little imp, all boyish and cute.”
“What t
ime?”
“Would noon work?”
I hum my affirmation.
“Thanks, Rebel. I owe you one,” Bear says.
“You mean the little twink wasn’t your gift to me?” I joke.
Bear is still laughing as he hangs up.
My mood has radically improved. There’s nothing like the idea of breaking in a cute twink to brighten my day.
* * *
Bear wasn’t lying. Pixie, or whatever the fuck his real name is, is the cutest thing. Slender but toned body, angular face with a strong jaw, gorgeous misty eyes underneath dark eyebrows, and plump lips that will look damn perfect around my cock. Yummy.
“Hi,” I say. “I’m Rebel.”
I swear, a blush creeps up his rosy cheeks. Where in the world did Bear find this adorable imp?
“I know. I mean, I’ve seen your videos. You’re... I know who you are.”
This is why Bear likes to pair me up with newbies. Some of the more experienced guys can be real asses, but I have endless patience with nerves and shyness.
I wink. “Good. Which one was your favorite?”
He’ll probably say the threesome with me, Brewer, and Prez, who left Ballsy Boys a few weeks back. Brewer and I have great chemistry, and Prez is this massive muscled bear who fucked the shit out of us both. My ass hurt for days after that one, but damn, it turned out great. It was the single most popular video on the site the last few months.
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