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“I’m so sorry, man,” Ethan says and I can’t bear to see him like this.
I don’t know why I do what I do and what the fuck I’m doing but I take a couple steps over to him.
“It’s like my head isn’t in the fucking game,” he says more to himself than to me. “I can’t stop thinking about…”
He stops himself and I know at that moment that the same thoughts going through in my head - those same thoughts that are distracting me during my game - are wreaking all holy hell in his head also. Except with defense, loss of concentration can destroy a team from its underbelly.
I know Ethan well enough by now to know that he’s thinking and kicking himself about what we did. He’s not like me. Anything goes with me. But not him. He had a crazy ass dad that fucked up his brain. I gotta bring the motherfucker back before he loses himself in despair.
Before he starts viewing what happened with the three of us as something bad.
“Hey,” I say softly and Ethan looks up.
I’m inches from the dude. I can smell him - his cologne - and I inhale deeply.
Fuck, this guy pisses me the fuck off.
He’s everything that I want to be. He’s solid. Stable.
He doesn’t need to try to be the center of attention. When he walks in the room, he has a fucking gravitas that attracts everything in it to him.
My hand reaches over and I bring it to his chest.
Ethan draws a sharp breath and looks at me.
My eyes meet his and we lock our gazes.
I’m not breaking this stare. Let’s see if he does.
Let’s see how far this fucking goes.
I bring my hand down and trace my finger down his abs before descending to his crotch.
I can feel his pubes on my hand and in a second, not even having to look down, I feel his cock.
Fuck I’m fucking hard.
I grab his cock in my hand and squeeze it.
He wanted me to be real? He wanted me to be genuine.
Let’s make this fucking real.
Ethan
Is this really happening? I’m too stunned to say anything. I swallow hard and can feel my breath rising and falling with the movement of my chest. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this. Everything I know to be true about myself is being challenged in this moment, and on top of that, this is Colt Stackford we're talking about—the guy I punched on National television, the guy who can't keep from dipping his dick into every woman who he comes in contact with, the guy who was once voted sexiest man alive by Ladies Who Love magazine.
And now his hand is wrapped around my cock.
His large, strong hand is gripped around my shaft with force, and I can feel myself growing hard under his touch. My back is pressed up against the lockers, and I can feel a steel handle in the small of my back, but I don't dare move. "Admit that you fucking want this," Colt says, whispering so as to not draw any unwanted attention.
I don't know what to say. He's right; my whole body is pulsing with desire and my cock is so hard it feels like it might burst. He smiles. He knows. That bastard could always read me. It was an almost uncanny ability. I feel his grip tighten again, and he slowly pulls on my dick, long, and firm, and slow strokes at first, and then his pace quickening until even my balls are slapping his hand. His hand draws my cock back and forth. My breath catches in my throat. I find myself hardly able to exhale. An almost electric current continues to course down my body, making my cock stiffer than I ever thought possible. He tries to lock his gaze with mine, but I can’t do it. I tilt my head back into the wall of lockers, while his hand keeps a steady rhythm on my shaft.
There’s a part of my mind that told me to stop all of this, that this was wrong. But if it was wrong, why did it feel so right? It was like I had willingly jumped onto a rollercoaster ride and now it was too late to exit. This ride was in motion and I had to see this through. Did I even want off the ride? I wondered. Colt pushes his hips into mine, and I can feel the strain of his muscles while he increases the intense pace of his tugs on my cock. I can smell his manhood. I can’t lie to myself. I find myself wanting him. I know I can’t last much longer. The desire has built up inside of me, like a soda that’s been shaken. Any minute now, I’m going to explode.
"Fucking cum for me," Colt demands with his hot breath in my ear. I can see a warm flush in his face.
That’s it. It feels as if he just gave me permission to release everything that had built up inside of me, and I can’t hold it in any longer. "Oh shit," I breath out. Ropes of hot cum shot out of my cock and into his fist and onto the locker room floor. He continues to milk my cock and even when I didn't think I had anything left, wave after wave of cum explodes into the spaces between us.
