Author: Carrick Moore

The first thing you need to know is that I was already really horny that morning. It explains why things happened the way they did. My dick was so hard when I pulled up to the house I had to wait in my truck until it went down. My friend Elana cancelled the night before. We hook up and hang out sometimes, that’s all. But I hadn’t seen her in a while and I hadn’t even jacked off in like five days.

Sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself.

My name is Adam. I guess that’s obvious. I’m nineteen years old, six-foot-one and a hundred fifty-nine pounds. It’s hard for me to put on weight, muscle especially. I mention all that because people seem to want to know the numbers.

My dad is half Black, half Polish. Mom is all Korean. I look like a lot of guys. Whatever you’re imagining I look like, you’re probably pretty close.

Okay, you’re wondering why I was at this house in my truck waiting for my dick to go soft. I work part time for a pest control company, spray for bugs, set bait boxes for rodents, that sort of thing. My first stop was a new customer, Peter Clarke. Big house. I think it was a Tuesday or Wednesday morning. That part doesn’t matter.

Mr. Clarke answered the door in gym shorts, no shirt. He was in his forties, muscular. I noticed that because, like I said, I have a hard time putting on muscle. It’s not that I’m into guys. But, I envy guys with muscles, if that makes sense.

So I went in and I noticed this room off the entryway, an office. And right there, in the middle of the office, I saw this guy in a chair. He was naked and rock hard.

Mr. Clarke said something like “Is that okay?”

I didn’t know how to answer. “Is what okay?” I fumbled. “Yeah, no worries.”

The guy in the chair chuckled. I glanced back over. He was wearing a blindfold.

“I’ll let your get your work done.” Mr. Clarke said to me and turned back toward the office. “We won’t be too long.”

I said “yes sir,” because that’s how I talk to customers.

By the time I finished the first floor, I could hear the guy in the chair moaning. The stairs to the second floor were in the entryway and I had to pass the office again. I know what you’re thinking and yes; I looked. Mr. Clarke was giving the guy a blowjob. And yeah, it turned me on. No, I’m not gay. But it was like porn, live porn. And I already told you I was horny.

I went upstairs as quietly as I could, sprayed all the rooms. I heard the guy cum. There was some laughter. They talked. Then the front door opened and closed.

“Busy day today?” Mr. Clarke asked when I came back down.

I said, “not too bad.” I only had three customers that day.

“Want some water or something?” He nodded with his chin toward where the guy had been sitting. “Take a turn in the chair?”

“Um, what do you mean?” I knew what he meant. “Water, yeah, that would be good.”

Mr. Clarke laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. “What do I mean? That’s funny.” He massaged my neck a little.

“I, um, I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to….”

He interrupted. “It’s okay.” Mr. Clarke stepped away, rested his hand on the chair. “How about this? I’ll go get you your water. If you’re sitting here when I get back, then I’ll….” He smiled. “Well, then you’ll be next. Sound good?”

“Um,” I shook my head, smiled and made a noise that was kind of like a laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

You didn’t know this, but I let a guy suck me once. We were both fourteen. He kept gagging on it, so he gave me a hand job. Elana sucks my dick, too. I don’t know if she likes it. It’s foreplay. I’d never cum from just getting head. I didn’t know if I could.

Mr. Clarke was still smiling. He looked right at my crotch because, yeah; I was getting hard. He gestured to an ottoman pushed against the wall. “You can set your clothes over there, in case you decide…”  He paused and looked me over again. “I’ll get you your water.” He left me standing there alone.

You already know I didn’t leave. I thought about it. What if it was a trick? I’d seen him with the other guy. It wasn’t a trick. What if he told someone? That made no sense. Who would he tell? And who cares? I was horny.

I took my boots off, stripped down, and sat in the chair. Don’t act surprised. You knew I was going to.

When Mr. Clarke came back, he didn’t say anything. He handed me a bottle of water. I set it on the floor. He knelt on a small pillow and moved my knees apart. I leaned back. He rested my balls in his open palm. I flinched. My cock throbbed.

He licked a bead of pre-cum from the head. It throbbed again. He kissed my scrotum. His lips were soft, wet. He traced his tongue around and under my testicles. Another droplet of pre-cum trickled down my shaft. He met it, followed its path up to the slit, and rested his lips on the tip of my dick.

You’ve heard the staying about gay guys sucking better because they know what feels good. I didn’t believe it, too cliché. But I also didn’t know what to expect or if I’d even cum. Then, he opened his mouth, took me right past his tongue and into his throat. I’m not that big. Don’t get me wrong. But, when he took me all the way, all at once, I gasped. My balls lifted off his hand.

He sucked hardest on the way up, pulling like a vacuum. And every time he went back down, he pressed me deep into his throat. His nosed brushed against my pubes. He was slow, rhythmic, down and up, and down and up.

I felt a stirring low in my abdomen. No, it was deeper than that.

He didn’t use his hands. He caressed my cock with his lips, massaged with his tongue, gripped it with his throat. I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t like a pussy. It was something else, intimate, intense in a different way. Giving. Taking.

I hung my arms open wide, my legs open wide. My head lolled. My eyes cast about the room, shelves, paintings, a desk, a window, the door I’d walked through. I was going to cum. It had been building from the time he started. The point of no return was the very beginning. I looked down at him, veins bulging from his neck, my cock tugging with the lift of his head, disappearing when it dropped once more.

He never stopped, never changed the pattern or the pace. That stirring, low. It was like that feeling you get when you’re excited. Butterflies. A swarm of them spreading upwards from somewhere low, somewhere deep. My abs clenched at the feeling. My legs trembled.

“I’m going to cum.” It sounded like someone else saying it, but it was me.

My whole body shivered and went numb. Every feeling all at once was my cock. I made a noise, word, or a phrase from before words. A calling to my past self, the one upstairs who was still listening.

“I’m close.” I whispered.

He slowed, opened himself wider, took me deeper. A slick of pre-cum and spit ran over my balls. The feel was softer, no less sensual. He took me to the edge carefully and let me hang there. My dick swelled, ached.

I lifted my pelvis, offering my cock, my body pleading for release.

He paused.

It was like I was on that first hill of a roller coaster. You know the feeling. He started again, faster, just as deep. He held my ass and pulled me into him, twisting his head, frenzied. That roller coaster feeling, it was like the chair dropped from under me, like I went weightless. A cool rush hit me, like electricity down my arms and legs, adrenalin.

“Fuck.” Cum shot out with the word. “Fuck.” He swallowed even while more gushed out. “Fuck.” I closed my eyes and said it louder. How many times? I don’t know.

He kept me in his mouth until I relaxed, lightly sucking the last drops of cum.

Mr. Clarke smiled and stood. He gave me a gray business card with his number on it. “You’re welcome anytime.”

I got dressed and thanked him. No, it wasn’t awkward.

And no, you don’t have to ask. I went back. I was welcome anytime, every time, many times.

Carrick Moore writes gay fiction and erotica. His first book, Normal Boys MM gay erotic, is available on Amazon.

Ethan broke up with his boyfriend. Or his boyfriend broke up with him. It didn’t matter. Of course it matters, Ethan thought, standing in the security line at the airport. I broke up with him. It was the right thing. Ethan sent his carry-on through the scanner. He’d only packed for the long weekend. 

The arguing had started too soon. “I just don’t know how this long-distance thing is going to work,” one of them had said. Or maybe it was both of them. The break up was too easily agreed upon. And, no, that didn’t make the heartbreak any easier.

Ethan cut the visit short. He changed his flight to this god-awful redeye, middle seat, twenty-b. Back to the new city, the new job, new adventures. Fuck, he shook his head. Who are you kidding? Ethan was too busy for adventures. It was too soon to tell if the job had been a good move. And the new city was as loud and busy as the old one. 

He fumbled past business class. Ethan had lost his upgrade when he switched flights. “Sorry, that’s me in the middle,” he said to Twenty-C. She got up, bleary-eyed. It looked like she had already been sleeping. “Thanks,” Ethan said as he slid his bag into the overhead and shuffled past her.

“Hey,” Twenty-A said, window seat, curly blond hair. He might have been twenty-five. He might have been thirty-five. That age range was so hard to nail down. 

Yeah, you’re hot, Ethan thought. But he just said, “hey,” back.

Twenty-A dragged his backpack out from under the seat in front of Ethan. “I was hoping your seat was gonna stay open.” He laughed.

“Yeah, sorry,” Ethan said. “Full flight.”

“No worries.” Twenty-A shoved the backpack under the seat in front of him where it belonged. “Glad it’s you, for sure. Could have been worse.” Twenty-A laughed again. He pulled his right leg up and let his knee rest under the window.  

Ethan wasn’t sure what he saw at first. Holy fuck. But then he just stared. “Um,” Ethan said and forced himself to look away. 

Twenty-A’s cock and balls were hanging halfway out of his shorts. No one in the line of passengers streaming by seemed to notice. 

“Um,” Ethan said again, with a chuckle. Twenty-A looked at him. Ethan glanced down at Twenty-A’s junk and back up.

“Oh,” Twenty-A said flatly. “Haha.” He set his shorts right. “More comfortable this way.” Twenty-A winked. “Right?”

“Right, yeah.” Ethan smiled. “Yeah.”

There’s a rhythm to flying. The taxi. The safety video. The takeoff. Drink service. 

Twenty-C, the lady on the aisle, slept through all of it.

Twenty-A whipped out two drink vouchers, ordered a bourbon and ginger ale. “What do you want?” He nudged Ethan’s arm. 

“Oh, um,” Ethan mumbled. “Same as you, I guess. Thanks.”

Twenty-A lowered Ethan’s tray table for both drinks. He left his up, reclined his seat, adjusted his shorts. “Here’s to a fun flight,” he said and raised his little plastic cup.

Ethan drank. The flight attendants turned off the cabin lights. Ethan turned off his video monitor. 

“Good idea,” Twenty-A said. “Do hers too.” He gestured to the sleeping woman. 

Ethan drank some more. He thought sleep might take him. Twenty-A drank, shifted in his seat. The captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Besides the constant roar of the engines, the plane went quiet. Ethan emptied his cup, reclined, closed his eyes. 

A hand touched his. Ethan lay still. A hand grasped his, fingers curling under his palm. Ethan returned a gentle squeeze. A hand lifted his. Ethan glanced to his right. Twenty-A guided Ethan’s hand. Ethan followed. It landed on his seat-mate’s warm, rigid cock.

Ethan pulled back, looked over. It was too dark to see Twenty-A’s lap, or that he’d pulled down his shorts. Ethan could barely make out the smile, or the man’s eyes looking back. Ethan set his hand on the armrest. No one spoke. A minute passed. The plane trembled, then settled. 

Ethan’s hand wandered back to Twenty-A. He found the thigh and rested there. He found the scrotum. The balls rolled heavy on the seat. Twenty-A leaned back. Ethan found the towering dick again. His fingers barely met around it. The stiff cock extended far above and below his fist. 

Ethan looked straight ahead. He pumped. Ethan looked out at the empty aisle. He dry stroked Twenty-A’s penis. Ethan glanced at the sleeping woman in the seat to his left. He found a bead of pre-cum and worked it over the shaft in the seat to his right.

Twenty-A lolled his head toward Ethan, feigning sleep. 

Ethan paused. He spit in his palm. He regained his target. This is insane, he thought. But he kept jacking off the stranger next to him. 

Twenty-A sat up. Ethan startled. No one was coming. Twenty-A fumbled in the backpack in front of him. Ethan heard a cap open, saw the bottle in a glint of light. The man cupped Ethan’s hand, poured a dollop of lube, set Ethan back to work. 

Ethan slid the length of it. Two hand widths plus, he thought. Ethan twisted up and rolled over the head. Twenty-A pulled in a short, quiet gasp. Seven-and-a-half, probably, Ethan mused. He worked down to the thick base. Eight maybe. 

The plane shook. The seatbelt sign came on. The captain made the announcement. Ethan lifted the scrotum up, let the balls slip from his hand. He stroked fast, long strokes, off the tip, on to the base. It swelled. I’m gonna make him cum. Ethan did not let up. Every so often he added a turn of his wrist near the tip, medium grip, moderate speed. Consistent but also consistently inconsistent.

The plane rumbled, dipped, and surged. Twenty-A opened his eyes. Ethan smiled, glanced at the woman on the other side. Still sleeping. Twenty-A pumped against Ethan’s hand, meeting his rhythm. Twenty-A tensed, held his breath. His cock bucked. A zip-splash hit Ethan’s seat next to his ear. Twenty-A let out a long sigh. Another rope of cum landed on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan aimed three more onto Twenty-A’s abdomen. A fountain spilled over Ethan’s grip and down the subsiding cock.

Twenty-A gingerly reached into his bag again. He opened a packet of moist wipes, cleaned Ethan’s hand, offered him another for his seat and shoulder. He stuffed the towelettes in his empty drink glass and fell asleep. 

The sun rose. Fight attendants passed with bags for garbage. Seat backs and tray tables returned to their full and upright positions. Twenty-A stared out the window. They landed, taxied, and parked. Everyone stood and waited.

“You live here?” Twenty-A asked.

“Yeah.” Ethan nodded.

Twenty-A passed him a scrap of paper. “Let’s catch up for drinks again sometime.”

Ethan looked at the scrap, a phone number, a name. Danny.

“I’m Ethan.” He extended his hand.

Danny took Ethan’s hand in his own. “It’s a pleasure,” he said.

 

Puck was fifteen when he first sucked cock. It was Greg Willis. Puck and Greg had sleepovers; they played video games long into the night. They’d jacked each other off before. But one night Greg kissed Puck. Puck froze. Greg stopped for a second and then they both went at it. Neither of them said a word. After a while of making out, Puck just went down on him. It was all so natural, the feel of Greg’s erection in his hand, then in his mouth. Greg came fast. Puck swallowed. Greg jacked Puck off. They fell asleep. They had sleepovers almost every weekend after that.

Michael Puckett was his real name. Friends called him Puck because he played the role in his high school production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Puck certainly looked the part, especially at fifteen — lean, Elven, impish, gray eyes. People forgave his flat acting. Shakespeare is hard. Truth is, Michael never let the character fully take him. But the Puck name stuck, anyway.

“Shit, that feels so good,” Greg Willis whispered one afternoon.

“Mmm,” Puck answered, his mouth full of Greg’s dick.

Puck’s mom was an ER doc; she was working a long Saturday shift. Puck and Greg had the house to themselves. Neither of them heard the front door open. Puck’s mom had been dating this guy, Kevin. Kevin had a key. He let himself in to fix a clog or a leak or something in the main bathroom. Why he opened Puck’s bedroom door without knocking that day was anyone’s guess.

“Whoa, dudes. Sorry,” Kevin said. But he didn’t immediately shut the door again.

Puck stood as fast as he could. Greg grabbed a towel to cover his tall cock.

“Y’all… man…” Kevin stammered. “It’s cool… I’ll….” And he finally shut the door.

Greg mouthed the word “Fuck.” 

Puck stared at the door wide-eyed, like it might come crashing open again, like the house might blow up.

They could hear Kevin working in the bathroom. 

Greg snuck out Puck’s window. Puck was afraid to come out of his room, not because Kevin was ever mean. He wasn’t. Puck just didn’t know what to say. After a while, he heard the shower going. He mustered up some courage and went out to the kitchen to fix something to eat. He’d just pretend nothing ever happened. 

“Hey man.” Kevin came out of the bathroom. He was stark naked, tall, muscular, hairy chest. He stood there drying himself off like it was no big deal. “Grab me my clothes out of the drier? They should be done.”

Puck stared and then tried not to.

Kevin hung up his towel, walked back into the living room swinging. 

That’s Mom’s boyfriend, Puck thought to himself. “Um, here.” He handed Kevin his clothes with one hand and covered his eyes with the other. 

“Dude, you can look at it. It’s okay,” Kevin said. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell your mom what I caught you doing. Guys have urges. It’s alright.”

Puck uncovered his eyes. Kevin’s dick was huge. At least that’s the way Puck remembered it.

“We were just being stupid,” Puck said. 

“Nah, everyone plays around.” Kevin took Puck’s hand gently, didn’t force it. “Feel my dick,” Kevin laughed. “It’s getting hard.”

Puck took hold of it.

“Do you want to suck it?” Kevin winked. “I’m serious. I’m not gonna tell your mom.” 

 

Puck earned a reputation in high school that followed him to university. He was good at sucking dick and he loved it. And it wasn’t a terrible reputation, not at all. 

Guys gravitated to Puck, gay guys, straight guys, bi, and non binary. Not that Puck was hot. Yeah, he was cute. But he was also the type of guy people could easily overlook. Neither handsome nor ugly, he was just Puck. Still, somehow, young men found out about him and they found him wherever they could. Puck sucked jocks in the shower. He sucked dudes in the library. He sucked in his college dorm, big dicks and little ones, guys who came fast, and guys who made him work for it. He took on each one like an intimate performance, no two alike. 

He’d heard of an old porn movie where the star actually had an orgasm when she gave head. Her clit was in her throat. Sucking was the only way she could get off. It seemed like a silly concept for a porn film, but Puck kind of got it. He got off getting guys off. Not that he didn’t do other things. He did. Still, nothing matched the feel of a man in his mouth, the sounds a man made when Puck brought him to the edge and then over it, the way a man’s body writhed and pulsed. The taste.

Puck’s first year in law school, he met Caleb. Caleb was an undergrad theater major, tall, with sandy blond hair. If Puck had a type, it was definitely Caleb. Then again, Puck had a lot of types.

“Stop,” Caleb said. He was kind about it, but firm.

“What?” Puck asked.

“Do you like this?” Caleb looked down at his cock resting on Puck’s cheek.

“I love it,” Puck said.

Caleb McCoy. Just a few years later, he’d become action film icon Caleb McCoy. That Caleb McCoy. Lean. Big dick. He and Puck had met backstage after one of Caleb’s plays.

“Your technique is amazing,” Caleb said.

“But,” Puck said. “I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming.”

“Let go,” Caleb said. “Let yourself love this,” Caleb smiled. 

“You are so hot,” Puck said. 

“Suck me like I’m hot, then,” Caleb said. “Like you can’t get enough. Like you never want it to end.”

That was a turning point for Puck, one he never forgot. “Technique is everything,” he told someone years later. “Truly wanting the other man’s body, hungering for his dick and cum, giving into the moment… that’s everything else.”

Puck sucked Caleb often enough that it sometimes felt like they were dating. They weren’t. Their dates were always in Caleb’s apartment and they always ended with Puck swallowing several mouthfuls of Caleb’s cum. Caleb could have two, sometimes three, orgasms in a row. All of that was perfect so far as Puck was concerned. Years later, when Caleb was famous, his lawyers offered to pay Puck to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Puck signed, of course. “But you don’t have to pay me,” Puck clarified. “Caleb is a friend.”

 

“You don’t look thirty-two.” The kid was nineteen. 

“I get that a lot,” Puck said.

They’d connected on a hookup app.

“What’s your name?” Puck asked.

“Chase.”

They met in person under the pretense of Puck teaching Chase the art of the blowjob. First set the scene, Puck mused.

“Something to drink?” Puck asked. “Water?”

“I’m good.” Chase was tall, broad shouldered. He wore a tank top and running shorts.

“You’re free-balling?” Puck didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s good. You wanna be comfortable.”

Chase laughed. “Is that the first lesson?”

“No, actually hydration was.” Puck grinned. “A good blowjob starts with a wet mouth.”

“Makes sense.” Chase adjusted his dick. “Nice house.”

“Thanks,” Puck said. “I’m still unpacking.” Puck had just made partner at his firm. This was his first weekend off in a month.

“You have a pool.” Chase walked to the wide glass doors and looked out.

“You want to go for a swim?”

“Nah, I didn’t bring a swimsuit.” He adjusted himself again.

Puck smiled. “It’s private. No one can see in. But, yeah.” He paused. “You could borrow one of mine.”

“You suck a lot of guys?” Chase asked.

“I do,” Puck answered. “When I have the time. Work has me pretty busy.”

“So, dress comfortably and hydrate?” Chase chuckled. 

“Relax. Breathe. Read your partner’s body. Listen to the sounds he makes. Lips, tongue, throat  — they all have muscles. Use them. Your hand can be an extension of your mouth. Don’t be afraid to use that too.” Puck added the most important part, the wanting, the hunger, the surrender. 

“Sounds good,” Chase said. 

“You nervous?” Puck asked.

The kid shrugged. 

Puck pulled out a small metal box of mints. “Want one?”

“Sure. Is this another lesson?” Chase asked.

“Peppermint oil,” Puck said. “It loosens the throat. But it has to be real peppermint oil.”

“Interesting.” Chase sat down and leaned back on the sofa.

“Yeah,” Puck said quietly. “I thought so.”

Chase smiled, broad and toothy.

Puck stepped closer. “What else do you want to know?”

Chase shrugged again.

Puck took a long drink of water.

Chase’s cock grew, snaked down his shorts, and then jutted out. It was thick from the base to the tip. A fat head peered from under his foreskin.

Puck popped an extra peppermint. “Take your shirt off.”

The kid scrambled, tank top, shorts, socks.

“No,” Puck interrupted. “Leave the socks on,” 

Puck started under the balls, licking, probing. Chase’s heavy scrotum rolled over Puck’s cheek and chin. Musk. Soap. 

Chase’s cock arced over his own bellybutton. It wept thick and clear. 

Puck worked up the taut shaft, paused, licked and coated his lips with pre-cum.

“Taste good?” Chase asked.

Puck looked up at him, smiled. He ran his tongue around and under the kid’s foreskin, coated his lips again. “Got more to feed me?”

“I do.” Chase grinned. He touched Puck’s face lightly, traced the line of Puck’s jaw to his chin, then to his lower lip. Chase put one finger in Puck’s mouth and gently pulled it open. “I’ve got a lot more.”

Puck sucked. The kid rolled his head back. Time fell away. A minute, ten, thirty. Puck took off his shirt, climbed up. Chase threw one socked-foot on the back of the sofa and propped the other on Puck’s curved spine. Puck curled over him, strength and fitness, athlete and artist, tireless succubus. He plied his craft in sweat and spit and a single tear.

“You gonna swallow my cum?” Chase’s voice was quiet and tight.

Puck answered with his throat, long pulls up, deep pushes down. He grazed the kid’s balls with the tips of his fingers. 

Chase let out a quick breath, then another, then a long sigh. His cock tensed, swelled, convulsed. He pumped cum in hard, fast bursts. Some went right down pucks throat. The rest filled his mouth. Puck swallowed. It filled again. He swallowed that, too.

Chase laughed. “Oh, my god.”

Puck kept Chase’s dick in his mouth. The kid relaxed. His cock stayed tense. Puck could feel Chase’s pulse along the length of it. He swirled his tongue, moved up to the tip, tugged the foreskin with his lips, and went back down. The cock pressed into the back of Puck’s throat, still rock hard.

Chase brushed a few strands of hair off of Puck’s forehead. “That was amazing,” he whispered.

Puck winked but didn’t come off Chase’s relentless erection. Instead, he slid up and down it, two long smooth movements.

The kid sucked in a breath and bit his lower lip.

Puck did it again, down and back up. He paused. 

Chase held his breath. 

Puck swiveled his head and took Chase’s cock all the way in. He worked back up it against a hard suck and came off it with a pop. Puck hovered over the kid’s dick and then fell open-mouthed all the way down once more.

Chase moaned, “Fuck.”

That was the cue Puck was waiting for. If the first round was a hard and steady beat to climax, round two was erratic. It was light and firm and quick and halting. It was a tongue, a hand, a throat, a breath, a lip, then two. Puck threw Chase’s legs onto his shoulders, white cotton heels on his back. He worked up and down, nuts and shaft, foreskin and bulging head. It was unpredictable, the dissonant orchestra, seemingly awry, but headed for a crescendo, nonetheless.

Chase screamed out. It wasn’t a word. It was a sound from before words. He tensed, sat halfway up, wrapped his legs tight, and pressed Puck’s head down. How could there have been more cum than the first time? How could there have been any more cum at all?

Puck came up, opened his mouth, showed Chase his load, and swallowed it.

Chase laughed like he had before. “Oh, my fucking god.”

Puck chugged water.

“That was…” Chase fell backwards, still laughing. “Fuck!”

“Good?” Puck asked.

“I’ve never cum like that,” Chase said. “Like twice in a row. Like that intense.”

“Good,” Puck smiled. “You wanna go for a swim?”

Chase sat up. “Aw, man. I really need to get going.” He was reaching for his shorts.

“Yeah, no problem,” Puck said. “Another time.”

“For sure.” The kid pulled on his shirt and stood up. 

“Yeah, sure,” Puck echoed.

“Cool.” Chase headed toward the door, but stopped. “So, okay, don’t take this the wrong way.” 

“Take what the wrong way?”

“I mean this like a compliment,” Chase said.

Puck chuckled. “Um, okay.”

“You ever hear of an app called ‘Suck Rank?’”

 

Suck Rank was a hookup app, but it had a couple of twists. It was only for blowjobs, thus the name. Users self-identified based on their role: sucks or gets sucked. They tested other labels like gives and gets — suckers and suckies. Those proved too confusing for some users. The real difference with Suck Rank, though, was in the follow through after the hookup. The app encouraged users to rate each other one-to-five stars, and write reviews. Suck Rank, again the name, ranked users by region and country, best sucks, best gets sucked. No one was sure how the algorithm worked. One review could bump you from the low one-hundreds in your region to number twelve or eleven. It probably had something to do with key phrases in the review. But, some suspected it had to do with how well your hookup partner ranked, as well. There was also the question of how many reviews one got in a single day and how consistently guys reviewed him. 

Regardless, a lot of guys were on Suck Rank. Yes, they were looking to bust or swallow a good load. But the brilliance of the app was the feedback loop. That’s what really drove membership, what got guys signed up and coming back for more. It was the drive to level up. The higher the rank, the hotter the guys. And the competition never ended.

Puck typed up a profile. @Puxucks. He loaded some photos. The paid version of the app was cheap. Yeah, why not? he thought. Puck read over what he’d written. Short. Simple. To the point. Good. He glanced at the pictures again. Good enough. Puck clicked the button marked Start Ranking. 

Puck scanned some profiles. There were a lot of dudes, some less than a mile from his house. By the time he got to the third one, his in-box started pinging. There were two, three, seven messages. Two ranked in the top one-hundred for his region. He could see why.

It was Saturday, not even noon yet. Puck smiled. I’ve got time.

 

The first guy was Korean, twenty-nine, flip-flops and linen pants. He told Puck to answer the door naked. “Take my clothes off for me,” he said. He wore a jockstrap, five stars tattooed just above the waistline. “Knees,” he said. Puck knew to sniff the jock, drag it down slowly. The dick was long, cut, with a well-defined head. Puck edged him for an hour. When he came, the Korean guy doubled over, cradling Puck’s head. He screamed something unintelligible into the sofa cushion where Chase had been lying just a short while earlier. 

Five Stars: I’m honored to be the first gets sucked to review @Puxucks. He took me somewhere I’d never been before. This is easily one of the top three blowjobs I’ve ever had. I nutted so hard. You need to experience this guy’s throat before he’s ranked out of your league. 

The second guy’s screen name was @MuscleMilkXL. He told Puck to let himself in, that the door would be unlocked. The man was in his early forties, dark hair, trimmed beard, over two-hundred pounds of muscle. The milk was in large, tight-hanging balls under a beefy cock. Puck found him blind-folded, laid out on a white-sheeted bed, under an open window. The breeze blew light and cool. Don’t talk, those were his instructions. Puck dropped his clothes in a pile, felt the man’s hard muscles, felt the man tremble to his touch. He traced his tongue from the thin line of hair under the man’s belly button, around the trimmed tuft of his pubic hair, down to the milk sac. 

Five Stars: @Puxucks knows his role. He did what he was told willingly. He loved it. I’d give him my cock to work again. He sucked it hard and deep. Took every drop. 

 

Puck had dinner with friends. His phone kept lighting up. How many messages were there? He scrolled through them in his car. Most were quick rejects. Five were definite possibilities. One was, “Hell, yes.” He said it out loud. 

@LatinMasc8mL: You look good. I like your lips.

@Puxucks: Thanks. You’re really hot. I’d definitely suck you.

The guy was offline. Later, Puck thought.

There was a late work email, a text from another friend, and a voicemail from an unknown number. 

Puck played it. “Hey, it’s Caleb. I know it’s been forever. Damn. Hope you’re doing okay. Hey, thanks for the non-disclosure thing. My lawyers insisted, sorry. But it was really cool how you handled it. Thanks for real. This is my private number. Save it. Hope to hear back. See ya.”

Back home, Puck turned on a show he’d been bingeing, watched a couple episodes, checked Suck Rank. 

There was a new review from Chase.

Five Stars: I was first, haha. Knew him before he was on here. He took two of my loads in a row. Kept me in his mouth the whole time. Would give ten stars if I could.

Puck smiled.

He looked at @LatinMasc8mL’s profile again. The guy had dozens of reviews, ranked twenty-first in the region. Wow, Puck thought. He scanned what other people had written.

Cums buckets.

Shot five feet.

So many ropes of cum.

Tried, but couldn’t swallow it all.

Pre-cum.

Cum.

Cum.

Cum.

Puck smiled again and turned off the TV. Eight milliliters, he thought. Of cum. He shoots eight milliliter loads. 

Puck went out back, took off his clothes, dove into the pool, and swam a few laps. Leave the phone alone. He was getting addicted. It was worse than other hookup apps. He knew it would be. Puck got in the jacuzzi, turned it on, tried to turn his mind off.

He thought about calling Caleb back. It was still early enough on the West Coast. 

Puck’s phone lit up. He could see it on the table across the deck. Just leave it. Whatever it is, it will be there later. Puck forced himself to turn away from the phone and stretch his legs out.

Hyperspermia affects less than five percent of men. A man with hyperspermia will ejaculate over seven milliliters of semen. Normal ejaculate is about one-and-a-half to five milliliters. The average orgasm will produce about four hard pulses of cum, followed by a few weaker ones. A hyperspermia guy will shoot eight to ten thick streams. The rest can sometimes look like a fountain of cum spilling over. 

Eight milliliters. Puck stepped out of the jacuzzi. The cool night air felt good on his wet skin. He showered outside, dried, picked up his clothes. Puck looked at his darkened phone. Just turn it off and go to bed. He lifted the phone carefully. Not carefully enough, it lit up.

Chase: wyd

Fuck, Puck thought. Suck Rank showed Chase was just three hundred feet away. 

Puck: where are you?

Chase: Um, out front. lmao. You busy?

Puck wrapped a towel around his waist, walked through the house, and opened the front door. 

“Hey,” Chase said. “This is my friend, Dean.”

Puck laughed. “What are you doing here?” He’d just seen Chase that morning. Still, he knew why there were at his house. 

“Oh, sorry,” Chase said. “Um, I just wanted to thank you…”

Puck interrupted. “Come in.”

“Thanks.” They said it at the same time.

Dean was shorter than Chase, but lean like him. He looked younger, maybe too young.

“I’m eighteen,” Dean said.

“He is,” Chase agreed.

Dean was already pulling out his driver’s license. “Here.”

“It’s okay,” Puck said, but he checked anyway.

They stood in the entryway, all looking at each other. No one said anything until Chase nudged his friend. 

“Oh,” Dean took a deep breath. He rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous. “We were just wondering, like, what’s up? You wanna hang out or something?”

“It’s kind of late, guys.” Puck said. He did want to hang out, though. Dean was cute.

“He’s on Suck Rank, too.” Chase said. “New, like you.”

“Love your profile,” Dean said. “Oh, and…” he reached in his shorts pocket and pulled out a tin of mints. “For you.”

Puck smirked. “Thanks.” 

“Were you swimming?” Chase asked.

Puck nodded.

“We could,” Dean stammered. “You wanna, maybe…”

Puck let his towel drop. “Take your clothes off.”

They were naked faster than Puck had ever seen anyone strip down. Dean was smooth, etched, more toned than Chase. Chase had more bulk through the arms and shoulders. They were getting hard about as fast as their clothes had hit the floor.

You look like porn, Puck thought. “C’mon,” he said and walked back to his bedroom.

Puck turned off a light, turned another one on, moved a few pillows off the bed. He opened the window overlooking the pool. When he turned around, the boys were kissing, tongues licking at lips, then slipping deep into each other’s mouths. You are porn.

Puck got on his knees in front of them.

They stopped. 

Puck looked up.

Dean knelt down beside Puck, in front of Chase’s rigid cock. Puck kissed him, lightly at first, then deeper. He found the last bit of peppermint tumbling over the boy’s tongue. Puck smiled into the kiss. 

“Put that as far back in your mouth as you can,” Puck whispered. “The mint. Let it melt down your throat.”

Dean nodded.

“Have you sucked cock before?” Puck asked him.

Dean shook his head. “Nah. I’m gets sucked.” He glanced at his friend’s dick. “I just thought. I dunno.”

“It’s okay,” Puck said softly. He licked a clear, heavy drop from the slit of Chase’s dick. “You picked a good one to be your first.”

Dean licked the end of Chase’s cock like Puck just had. He paused, seemed to be thinking. Dean stood taller on his knees, gripped the base of Chase’s cock in his hand and put the rest in his mouth.

Chase sucked in a brief gasp.

Dean glanced over at Puck.

“You’re doing great,” Puck whispered.

Dean bobbed back and forth, still gripping the base. 

Puck guided Dean’s free hand to Chase’s balls. He loosened Dean’s gripping hand. “Better,” Puck whispered in Dean’s ear, barely a breath. “Get it good and wet.”

Dean went a little faster. He cupped Chase’s balls with both hands. He pushed himself as far onto the cock as he could and gagged. Dean pulled off with a thick string of saliva and pre-cum stretching from his lips to Chase’s penis.

Puck mussed the boy’s hair and grinned. “Good.” He kissed Dean again, slipping his tongue in, holding the boy’s face, easing the jaw open. Puck led them both back to Chase’s cock, sliding it between their kiss.

Chase moaned.

Tongues tangled. Lips met briefly. Dean took half the cock and pulled off. Puck worked the entire thing down his throat.

“Try it,” Puck whispered. “Drop your jaw. Relax.” 

Dean slid down Chase’s erection and back up. He held off the gag. 

“You got it,” Puck assured him. “Again.”

Dean opened his mouth wide and took it in, his nose almost to Chase’s pubic hair. He came up, but not off Chase’s bulging head.

“Breathe.”

Dean took a breath, went back down.

“Good. Use your hand if you want to,” Puck whispered.

Dean stroked and twisted with his hand, sucking up and down. Chase’s dick stretched even harder. Puck sat back and watched.

Chase guided Dean’s head. “Don’t stop,” he said.

Dean didn’t stop. He was hungry for it. Guys who love getting head are sometimes very good at giving it, too. He was more relaxed. Dean sucked deep, opened his throat, pressed his face into the thatch of hair under Chase’s abdomen. 

“Good boy,” Puck said.

“I’m close,” Chase said. “Don’t stop,” he said, “Just like that. Keep going.”

Dean sucked faster, looser grip, wider mouth.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m serious. Right now. Right now.”

Dean pulled off, kept stroking fast. Chase shot a thick rope over Dean’s shoulder. Puck latched on to take the rest.

Chase yelled out, “Oh, fuck!” And he filled Puck’s mouth.

Five loads in one day. The random thought hit Puck as he swallowed. I think that’s a record.

Chase fell back onto the bed. 

Dean said, “sorry.” He stood up.

“Why sorry?” Puck sprawled out next to Chase.

“Didn’t swallow,” he said. 

Chase propped himself up on his elbows. “Nah, man. You felt so good on me. It was great.”

Dean smiled. He got on the bed with them but didn’t lie down. Instead, he spread Puck’s legs and shimmied up between them. 

Chase turned to get a better view. “You gonna suck him?” He nodded toward Puck. 

Dean looked at Puck. “Nah, I’m good,” Dean said. “Is that okay?”

Puck smirked and half-shrugged. “Yeah, you don’t have to.”

Puck’s cock was smaller. That’s not to say it was small. It was thick and rock hard. Yeah, I want you to suck it, he thought. But he stayed quiet.

Dean nodded. “You can…” he paused. “I mean, do you wanna suck mine?” Dean took his own hard cock in his hand. It was longer than Chase’s by a half-inch, maybe more.

Puck let out a long sigh and forced a smile. “Yeah, of course.” 

Puck propped a pillow behind his own head. He guided Dean up farther so the boy was straddling his face. “Fuck my mouth,” he said. 

Dean’s cock was straight and long, not thick. He was circumcised. The head was large and defined. 

Puck opened his mouth.

Dean pushed his dick in half way.

Chase kissed Puck’s jaw and behind his ear. 

Puck adjusted the pillow, so the angle was better. Dean moved in and out, but kept hitting the back of Puck’s mouth. Dean propped himself on his hands like he was doing pushups. Puck removed the pillow. It almost worked.

The esophagus is actually perpendicular to the oral opening. It makes a nearly ninety-degree turn down from the mouth. Changing the angle of the head makes it easier for a cock to slide in. It’s why cocks curved down at the end are easier to deep throat. Adjusting the angle is easiest when kneeling; it’s a perfect position for giving head or getting face fucked. Lying down flat and taking a cock from in front is particularly difficult. The throat is at an odd and opposite angle. Rookie mistake, Puck thought to himself. 

“Hang on,” Puck said. “Let’s try this.” He slid himself around to the edge of the bed. “Stand here.”

Puck bought a taller bed for this very purpose. He hung his head backward over the edge. Straight line from the mouth into the throat, he thought with a little smile. Like a sword swallower.

Dean stood in front of Puck’s upside down head. 

“Slowly at first,” Puck said.

Dean put his dick in Puck’s mouth cautiously, just an inch or two. His balls hung lower than Puck had noticed before. They had a light scent, that natural smell of a young man who’d been hanging out with a friend all day. 

“Oh, my god, this is so hot.” Chase rolled off the bed and stood next to Dean. “Fuck, yeah, man. Start slow.”

Dean rocked in and out a few times. 

Puck reached back and took Dean by the hips. He pulled him in all the way. Dean’s cock slipped down his throat. 

Puck relaxed. He was just an open sleeve for Dean’s hard dick.

Deans took a small step forward, adjusted his balance, kept his cock all the way in. His balls draped over Puck’s nose and rested on his eyes. He pulled out to let Puck breathe. Then his pelvis pivoted in again. Out and in, he face fucked with a same steady rhythm. 

“I’m gonna come quick like this,” Dean said.

“Slow it down,” Chase said with a laugh. He was shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean, watching.

Dean pulled out. 

Puck left his mouth open.

Dean looked down at Puck.

Puck nodded.

Dean put his cock back down Puck’s throat. He fucked it a little harder, a little faster. 

Puck breathed with him.

Dean’s nuts slapped Puck’s face. Dean’s hands griped Puck’s head.

Puck held his own dick, waited to get himself off. He couldn’t see. He could only feel Dean working the pump. The cum would feed directly into the gullet. There’d be no swallowing. Dean’s cock was past Puck’s mouth.

Dean was moaning. “Fuck. Fuck, yeah.”

Puck started stroking. They’d cum at the same time.

The pump stayed steady. The cock engorged.

“Ohmygodfuck,” Dean yelled. His legs tensed. He shuddered. The boy’s cock throbbed and pulsed.

Puck was on the edge.

Dean exploded down Puck’s throat. 

Six loads, now. 

Puck stroked faster. The muscles from his cock to his chest seized.

“Move.” It was Chase’s voice. The two boys shuffled. Dean came out. Chase’s cock went in. It hit Puck’s throat like a piston. “Fuck yeah,” Chase yelled out.

Puck shot like a cannon. He squirted cum over his face onto Chase’s torso. The rest striped his chest and stomach.

“Fuck yeah,” Chase growled. “Here it is, fuck. I’m cumming. Fuck, I’m cumming.”

Seven. 

 

Puck wrote reviews that night for everyone he’d hooked up with. “Write from your role,” Chase had instructed. “Review us from your perspective as a sucks.” And then to Dean, “Review Puck from your perspective as a gets sucked. The algorithm likes group action, but it doesn’t like us flipping roles.”

 

Puck worked Sunday preparing for a case. He was supposed to be in court all week. It settled on Wednesday. Something about having a jury seated brings people back to the table. Puck met with his team, made assignments, and then marked himself on vacation. Two plus weeks. It was the first time off he’d scheduled in over a year.

He messaged Chase and Dean. Puck hadn’t heard from them since Saturday. A few hours later he saw both messages marked read. Neither of them answered. 

He texted Caleb. Got your voicemail. Looks like you’re doing great out there. So happy for you. HMU. Would love to catch up.

He checked the app. Congratulations! You’re ranking. Puck was number one-twenty-seven in the region for sucks. He had thirty-three messages. Puck picked the first one ranked above a hundred who was online.

That guy left the door open. Puck sucked him on the sofa.

He sucked another one on the way home. They met at his gym’s parking lot. The guy had a big SUV with tinted windows.

Puck worked out. He was there anyway. A guy hit on him in the sauna. “You ever heard of an app called Suck Rank?” Puck asked him. The guy said no. Puck shrugged. “Sorry man.” He showered and went home.

Puck ate dinner while he scrolled. 

Four guys came over. None of them knew each other. Puck sucked them one after the other by the pool. They left. 

Seven is the number to beat, Puck thought. Suck seven loads in one day. Different kind of rank. He laughed to himself.

Puck wrote reviews; read reviews as they came in. His rank hovered around one-twenty.

Dean was online. He didn’t message.

The eight milliliter load guy, @LatinMasc8mL, was now ranked number seventeen for gets sucked. He was online too.

@Puxucks: Hey again.

@LatinMasc8mL: Heyyyyy. Nice reviews. You’re moving up.

@Puxucks: You too. Lookin good.

@LatinMasc8mL: Thanks. 

@Puxucks: wyd

@LatinMasc8mL: Home. Just put kids to bed.

@Puxucks: Cool. You’re married?

He was DL, married to a woman. That didn’t bother Puck. Lots of straight guys cross the line and most seem very appreciative of a good blowjob. It just made scheduling harder. That said, this one had a ton of reviews. He’d obviously figured something out. 

@LatinMasc8mL: you free?

@Suxucks: yeah.

Nothing. @LatinMasc8mL signed off.

Fuck.

 

Puck was up early. He went for a run, came home, swam. He promised himself he wouldn’t check the app until after this coffee. There were too many messages. Most were repeats, people he’d already ruled out. Nothing from Dean and Chase.

Puck messaged a few others. No replies. He turned the app off. He made some eggs and toast. Puck poured another coffee, opened Suck Rank. No messages. He scrolled guys nearby.

He couldn’t search guys by rank, but the number showed up at the lower left of their cover photo. He scrolled to twenty miles away. Puck refreshed. They were all low ranking. He scrolled again, refreshed again.

Puck scrolled out to nine miles. He saw something, a single digit. He scrolled back. One digit, it was the number one. The guy’s screen name was @NielAndFeed. He was ranked number one for gets sucked. Yeah, the guy was good looking, but Puck didn’t think he was exceptional. Twenty-four. He had a nice body and a respectable cock. Okay, it was ample.

@Puxucks: Heyyy

There was a long pause.

@NielAndFeed: Hey

@Puxucks: Looking?

@NielAndFeed: Can’t

That was a strange answer. It wasn’t no. It was can’t.

@Puxucks: I’m climbing in rank. Just new is all.

That felt desperate.

@NielAndFeed: Sorry man. You’re cute. But 32. Algorithm won’t like it. Can’t take a review from you.

Thirty-two is too old? Puck rubbed his eyes, caught his reflection in the mirror.

@Puxucks: I don’t understand.

@NielAndFeed: (profile no longer available).

Fuck. Puck refreshed and scrolled again. He scanned for highest ranking and lowest age. Puck had that feeling in his gut, butterflies, yearning. He was so horny for dick, young, well-rated dick.

@Puxucks: Heyy

@SuckMySpit: Sup

The guy was nineteen, pink-faced, red hair, soft in the middle but not fat. The dick was big, bound in a cock ring. He was ranked number twenty.

@Puxsucks: Just looking.

@SuckMySpit: Wanna level up with my fat one?

Puck didn’t reply. Do I?

@Puxucks: Sure

@SuckMySpit: Host?

@Puxsucks: Sure

@SuckMySpit: I’m Roy. You can call me Sir.

@Puxucks: Okay

@SuckMySpit: Okay?

@Puxsucks: Sir.

Roy rolled up twenty minutes later with two friends. “Don’t worry,” he said. “They’re on the app, too. We all are.” He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock right there in the entryway. The door was still open.

Puck went to shut the door. 

“I didn’t tell you to do that,” Roy snapped.

Puck shot him a look. He thought about aborting the whole thing and throwing these kids out. But, he couldn’t afford the bad reviews. And the two friends were actually hot. Not Roy.

“May I shut the door?” Puck asked. “Sir?”

“No,” Roy said.

It didn’t matter. The two other boys blocked the view. So did Roy’s big old pickup in the circular drive. 

“Okay, sir.”

“Get on my cock and don’t stop until I bust in your mouth,” Roy said.

Puck did as he was told.

“Look at me while you suck it,” he said.

Puck looked up.

“Open your mouth,”

Puck opened his mouth, let the fat cock rest on his tongue. 

Roy held Puck’s jaw open and spit into his mouth. “Suck it.”

Puck felt like it took forever. Roy grabbed Puck’s hair. He slammed Puck’s head on and off his cock. The orgasm was loud and sweaty. Roy didn’t cum much. It was awful. How could he be ranked twenty?

“Suck them,” Roy said.

The other two were better, faster. They were sexier. They moaned. One smelled good. They kissed each other. They came a lot, both of them. They left Puck wanting more.

Roy zipped up. He handed Puck a slip of paper. “Write my review with these phrases. Use at least five of them. You hear?”

Puck nodded.

“Do you hear?” 

“Yes, sir.” Puck said. 

“Write my review like this and all three of us gotchu. Five stars, amazing reviews. You’ll level up. Promise.”

“Okay,” Puck said. “I will, sir.”

“You’re a good sucker, lil man. Ain’t he boys?” The other two nodded. “A’right. Gotta bounce.” 

And they were gone.

It was Thursday morning, not much action on the app. Puck went to his bathroom, brushed his teeth, showered again. He paced the house, bathroom, kitchen, pool, living room. 

Two weeks off. Puck had actually padded the time. It was two weeks starting the following Monday. I could go somewhere. But, he worried that might ruin this regional rank.

Incoming call: Caleb.

“I can’t right now,” Puck mumbled to the ringing phone. He sent the call to voicemail.

Puck plopped himself on the sofa, tried to sit still. He looked at @LatinMasc8mL’s profile again. He was forty-one, and he’d moved up to number ten for Gets Sucked users. Interesting, Puck thought. The guy was still offline, though. 

Puck wrote the review for Roy as instructed. Why not? he thought. It might work. Some phrases Roy gave him were just a series of three or four emojis. Puck smiled to himself and tapped them in. Whatever.

Puck checked his voicemail. It was empty. Caleb hadn’t left a message.

Puck texted: Hey, sorry I missed your call. 

He waited for a reply.

Puck sighed. He got up, looked out the back window to the pool. He checked his phone. Puck tried to read a book. He napped. Hours passed. He went to the gym; it was nearly empty on a weekday afternoon. Puck came home. He swam, laid out naked by the pool. Made a snack. Paced.

Puck had taken a meditation class once. He sat on a pillow and crossed his legs half-lotus. The sun was low. He breathed. Guys will get off work soon. He tried to shake off the thought. Puck inhaled. He looked down at his phone but didn’t touch it. He closed his eyes, took another breath. Puck’s dick got hard. He tried to ignore it. Focus on an object. He looked at the table in front of him. 

Puck was fifteen. Kevin, his mom’s boyfriend, had been gentle, easy to talk to, funny. Puck loved sucking the man. It never felt like abuse. Puck sucked him every day for a while. “You’re doing great,” Kevin would say. It’s the same thing Puck had said to Dean. You’re doing great. Be great.

His mind was wandering. Puck tried to breathe, meditate. His erection ached, dripped. Puck took a drop of his own pre-cum and put it on his tongue. 

His phone lit up with a text.

Caleb: No worries. I’ll be in town tomorrow. Visiting my sister. She had a baby. Wanna hang out?

At the same time, Suck Rank signaled a new message.

@LatinMasc8mL: Sorry. Work stuff. Free now?

Finally, Puck thought. 

@Puxucks: Yeah.

@LatinMasc8mL: Can you do it slow? Take your time?

@Puxucks: Only way to do it.

@LatinMasc8mL: I’m Angel, btw

@Puxucks: Puck here.

Angel showed up in gym clothes. “Told my wife I’m working out,” he said. “I will after.” Angel looked bigger in person, all muscle. He handed Puck a plastic container with water and a large white flower. “Gardenia. We have a bush in the backyard. It’s blooming like crazy.”

“You brought me a flower?” Puck smiled.

“Corny.” Angel laughed and took his shirt off. Despite his mass, he still had a tapered waist, lean abs. “Where, uh..?” He looked around.

“Sofa okay?” Puck asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Perfect.” Angel stepped out of his gym shorts. His dick flopped and swung. “Yeah, you got a towel or something to lay out?”

Puck ran and got a towel from outside, shut the screen door behind him.

Angel sat down and opened his legs. His cock was darker than the rest of his body, larger than average, but not huge. It angled down at the end the way Puck liked it. Puck knelt on his meditation cushion in front of Angel.

“I cum a lot. You don’t have to swallow,” Angel said.

Puck smiled and took Angel’s half-hard cock in his mouth. He sucked. It grew. Puck worked it slow and easy. He licked Angel’s balls, freshly saved. He licked under and around. Angel’s cock thumped in time with his heartbeat. It spilled pre-cum like a faucet onto Puck’s face and into his hair. Puck opened his mouth, extended his tongue, drank the offering. He nibbled at the tip, coaxed more out. Angel’s cock seemed to reach, beckon. Puck took in half and massaged it with his lips and tongue. 

“Oh, yeah,” Angel purred. “That feels so good.”

Puck stayed the path, rubbing the underside, working a muscle that only grew tighter. The clear flow from Angles cock coated them both.

Sunlight gave way to dull, fading gray. The room fell dark around them. Angel guided Puck to deeper strokes, his hands barely touching puck’s head. Puck moved and loosened, so Angel’s cock threaded down his throat. 

“Yeah,” Angel said softly. “There ya go.”

Puck looked up at Angel, barely a shadow in the dim room. He ran his hand up over the man’s abdomen, supple skin and soft hair over the ridges of muscle. Angel gasped, tightened his glutes and pushed up. Puck deepened his strokes. 

“I’m getting close,” Angel whispered.

“Mm hm,” Puck hummed. He took Angel’s scrotum and tugged.

“It’s a lot of…” He exhaled hard. “Cum.”

Puck nodded while he sucked.

Angel moaned, “Oh fuck.”

Of course, Puck was nervous. Nervous is just another form of excited, he thought. He rested his hands around Angel’s balls and kept sucking.

“Fuck,” Angel yelled. “Here it comes. Get ready. Here it comes. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” he chanted. 

At just the right moment, Puck deep throated Angel’s cock. The man bucked against him. Warm jets shot down Puck’s throat, a squirt gun of cum. Puck felt the broad vessel under the base of Angel’s cock punching against his lower lip. He held his breath and took the transfusion. Nine spurts, ten, eleven. 

“Fuuuck.” Angel’s body vibrated with the word. 

Puck came up for air but kept the still-active cock in his mouth. More cum, quick sprays, erupted, filled Puck’s mouth. He swallowed, rested while more spilled out. A breeze blew in the open door, a sweet scent, Gardenia.

 

Puck wrote the review as soon as Angel left. He used some of the key phrases and made up a few of his own. It was the best blowjob he’d ever given. It was the most cum he’d ever taken. Puck smiled and stroked his cock. He closed his eyes, remembered Angel’s dick. He could still feel Angel exploding down his throat. Puck shot cum onto his own chest. A droplet hit his lower lip. He licked it. I should clean the rest of this up, he thought right before sleep took him.

 

Puck woke up early again. He opened Suck Rank before he was out of bed. Angel had jumped to number seven. He’d sent puck a private message: That was the BEST blowjob I’ve EVER had. You are too good for this app. But, there was no review. Too good for this app? What does that mean? Puck wondered. Why no fucking review?

Puck had a banana and downed a cup of coffee. He hit the gym, lifted and then rowed for forty minutes. The place was crowded. There was one guy in particular, black hair, a dark shadow of stubble, dark brown eyes. Your eyes look like sex, Puck thought. Sex Eyes. The guy wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his build and snug gym shorts that showed off his considerable package. 

Puck stretched, rinsed, and then crashed in the sauna. Five minutes later, Sex Eyes came in. It was just the two of them. The guy opened his towel, spread his legs, and leaned back. He tipped his chin toward Puck like he was saying, hey. Puck said, “hi.” The guy’s penis draped over his left thigh. His balls set like anchors on the towel. He smiled at Puck. He pulled on his dick and placed it by his nuts. Puck watched, glanced back up at the guy’s face, nodded approval. It was a familiar dance. Sex Eye put his hands behind his head and took a slow breath. His cock fattened and stretched half-way to his knees. It hovered over the towel. Sex Eyes watched Puck. Puck watched the guy’s dick, willed it to rise. It was an enormous hooded cobra lifting, a turgid snake climbing to the heavens. The guy stroked it a few times, brought it to its full expanse. 

Normally Puck would have taken measure of the situation, taken Sex Eyes to the shower, taken his cock as deep as he could. He’d have left the guy catching his breath and regaining his balance under the shower spray. It would have been perfect until the next cock came along and then Sex Eyes would be wholly forgettable. 

Suck like you can’t get enough, like you never want it to end. Puck remembered Caleb’s lesson from long ago. Technique is everything. The wanting, the hunger, the surrendering to the moment – that’s everything else. Caleb, Puck remembered. Fuck, I never returned his text.

Puck stood up. “Come here,” he said to the guy.

Sex Eyes did his best to rein in the struggling serpent under his towel. He might have thought they were going to the showers, but Puck led him to his locker instead. Puck took out his phone and handed it to the guy. “Put your number in,” he said.

The guy shook his head. “Sorry man, I have a girlfriend.”

Puck locked eyes with him. They were flecked with green. Puck hadn’t noticed that before. The man’s eyebrows were thick. His nose had a bump, like maybe it had been broken before. “You have a girlfriend?” Puck half-smiled.

“Yeah,” Sex Eyes said.

“I don’t care.” Puck pretended to brush something off the guy’s shoulder. “Do you?”

The guy stood still for what seemed like a long time. “I guess not.” Sex Eyes took Puck’s phone and typed in his number.

Puck texted him from his car.

Nice meeting you. I’m Puck.

Thank you Puck. Omar. It will be even nicer when we meet again.

“Oh, it will be,” Puck said out loud to himself. “It will be.”

He called Caleb.

Caleb: Puck. You called.

Puck: Of course I called. Is it too early?

Caleb: No, it’s fine. I’m just heading to the airport. I’m hanging out with family tonight. Are you free tomorrow?

Puck: Definitely.

Caleb: Cool. Maybe we can order in. Dinner at your place?

Puck paused. Caleb caught him off guard. Dinner? Puck had always just sucked Caleb off. They’d never done anything else.

Puck: Dinner sounds great. But, how about I take you out?

The line was silent for a second. 

Caleb: That’s kind of hard for me. I get noticed. People can be weird.

Puck hadn’t really considered that. Caleb was a celebrity. That was putting it mildly. Caleb was a hot young film star. 

Puck: How about Savastano’s. The owner is a former client, a good guy. I’ll see if he can set us up with a private table out of the way.

Caleb: I haven’t been to Savastano’s in years. That sounds so good. Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble, let’s do it.

Puck: No trouble at all.

Caleb: Big-time lawyer pulling rank. Kind of a turn on, Puck.

Rank. If only you knew, Puck thought. 

Puck: Nah, it’s not a big deal. But I’m glad it turns you on.

 

Puck stayed off Suck Rank except to send Angel his phone number. It’s Puck. Text any time. 

The plan seemed easier than it ended up being. He wanted to look at his phone constantly. No, he wanted to hook up constantly. He was like that porn lady from the seventies; he longed for a dick in his mouth. Puck jacked off. That helped. He swam, ran errands. Puck thought about pulling into a German car dealership. Even I know that’s overcompensating. He laughed even as he thought about it.

 

“Puck, you look fantastic.” Caleb hugged him. “Man, you’ve put on some muscle, too.” 

Caleb was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. 

“And you,” Puck chuckled. “You look like a movie star trying to be incognito.” He opened the car door. “Get in. I’ll protect you from the paparazzi.”

“Haha,” Caleb chided. “You think that’s a joke?”

Puck got in the car. “Seriously, I got you. Take the hat off, at least.”

Caleb did as he was asked. His hair fell nearly to his shoulders. He shook it out.

“Fuck man, you are super hot. Long hair looks great on you.”

“It’s for a new project.” Caleb laughed.

Savastano’s was busy. Dean, the owner, met them at a side door and took them to a private room off the kitchen. It was obvious he recognized Caleb. But he played it off like he sat celebrities every night.

“Oh my god, you made partner?” Caleb said over salad and wine. “That’s huge. You’re so young.”

“Thank you,” Puck demurred. “And you. You! You’re so talented. I have to admit I haven’t seen all your movies.”

Caleb waved him off.

“Puck, that’s a nickname, right?”

“My last name is Puckett.” Puck answered. “But I was also in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” He blushed. “In high school.”

“You played Puck? Oh my god, you’re perfect for that role.”

Puck shook his head. “Mmm.” He swallowed a mouthful of food. “No, I was terrible.”

“I bet you were adorable.”

“If we shadows have offended…” Puck shook his head again. “I’m pretty sure I offended everyone.”

“Give me your hands if we be friends.” Caleb smiled and reached across the table. “And Robin shall restore amends.”

They made out at a stoplight on the way home until the driver behind them honked. The rest of the way, they held hands. I can’t believe this is happening, Puck thought. He’d been with Caleb before, but that was so long ago.

“This house is beautiful,” Caleb said when they pulled into the driveway. 

Puck gave him a tour, apologized for the still-unpacked boxes, and pulled a bottle of wine.

“Malbec okay?” Puck asked.

“Argentine.” Caleb looked at the bottle. “Valle Dorado. I’m impressed.”

“Caleb.” Puck poured two glasses. “Back in college…” He took a sip. “Mmm. Nice.”

“Back in college?” Caleb prodded.

“In college. I mean, we never did this. We just, you know…”

Caleb wrapped an arm around Puck’s waist, clinked their glasses together. “Cheers, to ‘you know’” He smiled. “And to finally doing this.”

“To this,” Puck drank. 

Caleb pulled him closer, kissed him, their lips barely touching. “To this,” he whispered. “And to you.”

They kissed again. Teasing lips yielded to yearning tongues. They kissed like in a movie, faces and bodies pressed together. They set their glass down, knocked one into the sink. They laughed, found each other’s mouths again. Caleb peeled off his shirt and then Puck’s.

“You are so fucking hot.” Puck spoke into the kiss. “Feed me your cock.”

Caleb held Puck’s face in both his hands. He looked into Puck’s eyes, their noses touching. “Take me to your bed.”

They dove onto the cool sheets, grappled and fumbled with buttons and zippers. Puck hungered and wanted. They kissed with their eyes open, skin on skin, hard cocks slipping across and beside each other.

Caleb wetted his finger with their blended pre-cum and fed it to Puck’s waiting tongue. “When I cum,” he said, “don’t swallow. Hold it in your mouth.”

Puck smiled, nodded, and slid down to do as he was told. Caleb, the movie star. No, Caleb, the horny undergrad. Caleb, the man in his bed at that very moment. The chiseled chest, the rigid nipples, the dusting of dark hair. Caleb, the familiar cock, long and broad. Summoning.

Puck found his pleasure; lost himself in the taking, in the giving. Caleb held Puck’s head, moved with him, moaned. They embraced, hardened flesh to mouth. Scent and slick. Puck tilted. Caleb pressed and tunneled into the open throat. Puck’s mind settled in a quiet place, so present and clear. Take him, he thought. Like I never want it to end.

Puck felt Caleb nearing the edge, the surging, the tensing, the controlled breaths. “Oh my god, Puck,” he whispered. “Oh, my god.” Caleb filled Puck’s mouth with cum, hard blasts, his cock bucking with each one. “Hold it. Hold it. Don’t swallow.” Caleb let his dick fall free, pulled Puck to his own lips and kissed him. He slipped his tongue into Puck’s full mouth, into the warm blend, spit and semen. Caleb held their lips firmly together. Tangled. Played. Softly sucked. And swallowed his own cum. 

 

“Your place really is beautiful,” Caleb said. They’d filled their glasses again and gone out back to sit in the jacuzzi. He looked at Puck. “You’re beautiful.”

Puck smiled. “What’s it like?” he asked. “The fame. The money.”

“You want me to tell you it’s horrible?” Caleb laughed. “Nah, it’s great. I mean, sometimes it’s like a twenty-five million dollar prison. But it’s a good life.” He paused. “I’ll be honest, though. I’d rather have more nights like this.”

“Yeah,” Puck put his hand on Caleb’s knee. “This is nice.”

“So, you said you’re off work?” Caleb asked. “First vacation in, like forever?”

Puck laughed. “Not that long.”

“Going anywhere?”

Puck shook his head. “Nah.”

Caleb turned to face him. “Come with me.”

“Where?” 

“Hawaii. Danny Hammond has a place, said I could crash there for a while before we start shooting.” Caleb smiled pleadingly. “Please come?”

“Danny Hammond?” Puck said. “How do I know that name?”

“He directed me in ‘Phoenix Protocol.’”

“The first one?” Puck asked.

“All three.” Caleb chucked. “And the fourth one. We’re doing it in Thailand. So, you know, Hawaii is kind of on the way.” Caleb cuddled in close. “The house is on the beach. Maui. Very private. We’ll have the place to ourselves. Unless we want to invite some new friends.” He winked, kissed Puck’s neck. 

“Well, how can I say no?” Puck said. “I can get a ticket tonight, see if I can get on the same flight as you.”

Caleb smirked and raised an eyebrow.

Puck paused and then said, “Oh, right.” He scoffed. “You don’t fly commercial, do you?”

“Neither do you, not this trip.” Caleb grinned. He kissed Puck again. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Puck kissed him back. “I’m excited.”

“Good.” Caleb guided Puck up to sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi. Puck’s cock pointed straight up to the night sky. Caleb licked it, teased the tip. “This is what I hoped you meant by ‘excited.’”

Puck smiled and flashed his eyebrows.

Caleb opened and took Puck deep into his mouth.

Long before we became legend, there was the school trip to Washington. I knew Afonso Barbosa. I didn’t hate him. That part isn’t true. But, I didn’t like him either. He was simply a problem to be solved.

“Normal Boys” started out as a short story without a title. I’m a professional writer, not a famous one. On a whim, I wrote the first scene with Greg and Nick. Writing erotic fiction seemed like it would be fun. It is. I was afraid it would be daunting, too. It wasn’t, not really. Over the next six months, “Normal Boys” told its own story. I was as much the reader as I was the writer. It was one of the coolest experiences of my life. I still miss sitting down with Greg and the gang on my laptop every morning.

This blog is about some stories behind the novel. For example, the first line in the book is something a guy in college really said to me. I was as shocked as Greg was, as exhilarated too.

I spent many of my younger years on The Great Lakes, spent a week on a sleek 26-foot boat, skimmed Lake Superior near where experts think The Edmund Fitzgerald sank.

I gave my heart to beautiful young Ohio men and felt it break more times than I can count. I made friends and lost friends. I came of age and came out. It all seemed so normal. We all seemed so normal. Even the dark shadow of the AIDS pandemic seemed, somehow, normal.

I’ll share some stories here. Writers write. I’m happy to do it.

And yeah, I’m already working on the next novel. It’s not a sequel. But, I hope you’ll give it a shot when it comes out. I’ll definitely keep you posted.

Read on. Love more.