Page 31 of Taste Test

He rubbed my feet with the same quiet concentration he’d shown earlier, like this actually meant something to him.

He didn’t rush. Just worked through each foot like he had all the time in the world, thumbs pressing into arches, knuckles dragging slow circles over tender spots.

It felt stupidly good. So good I stopped pretending to be chill and just let myself melt into the couch, limbs heavy, brain drifting.

I was half-zoned out by this stage, eyes closed.

I’d quickly given up trying to pay attention to the film.

Jared had picked some shitty action comedy, like he always did.

His taste in movies was abysmal. Loud, dumb, full of unnecessary explosions.

But I barely noticed. My whole body had gone floaty and warm, like I’d just downed a couple of glasses of wine on an empty stomach.

Then I felt him lift my foot.

And then something wet touched my big toe.

Is that—?

His tongue.

I opened my eyes just in time to see him lean forward and close his mouth around it. My toe. Inside his mouth.

Oh my fuck.

I went stock still, unsure if I was supposed to yank my foot away or lean into it. I just sat there, staring like a moron as he sucked gently, like a child suckling a sippy cup.

I was torn, caught between the shock of seeing my toe in Jared’s mouth (yes, I knew it was on the menu, he’d warned me, I’d agreed—but still) and the weird, unexpected rush of how good it felt.

Not good like getting my dick sucked, obviously.

But still... good. Intimate. Filthy in a way I hadn’t been braced for.

The sight of his lips wrapped around me, the pressure, the wet heat—it shouldn’t have been sexy, but it kind of was.

I think?

My brain was short-circuiting, trying to reframe the rules. This was Jared. My straight flatmate. Or at least mostly straight. And my toe was in his mouth . And not just in there—he was into it . Eyes half-lidded. Relaxed. Like he did this all the time. Like he’d been waiting for this.

He worked methodically through each toe, sucking them like tiny cocks, his tongue swirling around each one before moving to the next little piggy.

Then he shifted, licking between them, making me shiver.

When he got to my sole, he ran his tongue along the arch in one long stroke that made my breath catch.

A couple of kissy nips at the ball of my foot, then back to the toes again.

Eventually he moved on to the other foot, and gradually I managed to sort of resume that floaty state I’d been in before.

The initial shock was wearing off, and I started to think maybe this wasn’t sexual for him.

He had said it wasn’t always, hadn’t he?

Sometimes it was just nice to chill, to zone out.

And maybe that was a relief, because I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he asked to jerk off like he’d said he used to with Kieran Jolliffe back in high school. The thought of watching him wank while he sucked my toes... I didn’t know if that would send me running or make me come in my pants.

By the time the credits rolled, I was basically part of the couch. Loose-limbed, head heavy, letting him keep at it— sucking, licking, giving little nips at my heel that made me twitch.

Then the film ended, the sudden silence cutting in. Jared let my foot drop onto the cushion in his lap and stretched back against the couch with a satisfied sigh.

“That was nice,” he said, sounding completely relaxed. “Really nice.”

I studied his face, waiting for the inevitable question about jerking off. Instead, he just looked content, almost sleepy.

“So,” I said, “do you need to... you know. Take care of anything?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, with Kieran you said you used to—”

“Oh.” His grin turned wicked. “Nah, mate. Already sorted.”

“What?”

He shoved my foot away, dragged the cushion out from under it, and tossed it to the side. His boxers were plastered to him, a giant wet patch spreading dark across the navy cotton.

I just gaped at him. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” The smile he flashed me wasn’t a good boy smile. It was dirty boy smile. A very, very dirty boy smile. “I came twice, actually. You were too gone to notice. Thought I’d let you have your little spa moment.”

“I... I had no idea.”

“Yeah, no shit. That’s why it was so good.”

Then, without breaking eye contact, Jared slid a hand into his boxers. My breath caught. He rummaged around like he was checking for loose change, and when his hand came back out, his fingers glistened.

“You want?” He held his fingers in front of me. “It’s still a bit warm.”

Every nerve in me screamed no, but something deeper, darker, wasn’t so sure.

Before I could decide, Jared pushed his fingers towards my mouth, brushing my lip like it was already settled. The cocky way he looked at me said it wasn’t a question—it was a test.

My lips parted and he shoved the taste of himself against my tongue, watching me suck them clean with pure delight.

“Want some more?” he asked as he pulled his fingers back.

I nodded and he slid his hand back inside his boxers. A beat later he came out with more clumpy seed, wet and heavy on his fingertips, and pressed them forward again.

Much like the way he’d just sucked my toes, I now sucked his fingers like cocks—working my tongue around each one, milking every drop of his cum like it was owed to me.

He pulled his fingers free and wiped them on his shirt. He glanced at the carpet, but when he met my gaze again, his eyes held a low fire. “How would you feel about crashing in my bed tonight? That way you can have your morning protein shake straight from the tap.”

My head filled with a chorus of resounding yeses.

“Are you sure?” I asked, trying to play it cool.

“Yeah, man. It’d just make things easier, wouldn’t it? It’ll save me the hassle of getting up and jerking into the cup for your breakfast. This way you can just help yourself when we wake up.”

“Help myself?”

“Yeah. You could be my alarm cock.” Another dirty boy smile. “Wake me up with a bit of suction. Start the day right.”

“You do realise how gay that sounds?”

“Only if you make eye contact while swallowing.”

For him, the bullshit no-eye-contact rule probably worked. He could keep telling himself it wasn’t me down there— just a mouth. Just a hole. As long as he didn’t look too hard, he didn’t have to admit how deep we were in it.

But I didn’t get that luxury.

I would know exactly whose cock was in my mouth. Whose body I was kneeling for. Drinking his cum from a plastic cup was one thing—a stunt, a joke, a fucked-up game. But taking it straight from him? That would mean something. That would make it real.

“So whattaya say, Case? Keen to be my alarm cock?”

In all honesty, he was rather hard to hear. My heart was beating so fast, and the pounding blood in my ears drummed out all other sounds.

I nodded.

“Brilliant.” He stood and held out a hand, hauling me off the couch like this was some team-building exercise. “Just so you know, I’m big spoon.”

“There will be no spooning,” I said quickly, freaking out at the thought of being pressed up against all that heat and muscle.

“Dude. My bed, my rules.”

“I don’t like your rules.”

“Relax. It’s not a sex thing. I’m not gonna arse-rape you in your sleep or anything. I’m just a snuggler. Ask my teammates—I’m basically a giant teddy bear.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Only if you like premium-grade cuddles.”

I rolled my eyes, but followed him down the hall anyway. Past the point of no return, straight towards his bedroom, and whatever the hell came next .