Page 42 of Taste Test

My cock stood proud and ready, swollen head straining with blood. I pressed the slick crown to his hole, rubbing circles, teasing another desperate sound from his throat. Pulling back just an inch, I took a moment to admire Jared’s butthole one last time before it was robbed of its purity.

What followed wasn’t the sex of legends or porn, or even the kind they write into starlit love stories. It was real. Messy. Agonisingly slow. Jared gritted and whimpered, his noises high and broken. Every millimetre I pushed in felt like a war between pain and want.

I held still about halfway in, letting his body adjust before I pressed on with the thickest part of my cock. His thighs trembled around me, muscles taut with the strain of taking me in. His face was a mess—glass-eyed, lips parted, caught somewhere between awe and oh fuck .

“Oh fuck,” he rasped, staring up at me. “Please tell me you’re about to be balls deep any second now.”

“Not even close.”

“You fucker.” His breath hissed through his nose. “Just so you know, Walmsley—if you knock me up, you’ll have to make an honest woman out of me.”

“Already planning the shotgun wedding, are we?” I nudged a little deeper.

“Damn right. Flowers, baby shower, the lot. Maybe one of those flash prams with suspension.”

“Somebody sounds like they might be high maintenance.”

“That’s what happens when you breed the rugby captain. We come with standards.”

“Maybe the rugby captain shouldn’t have spread his legs so quickly then.”

“Ha. Are you calling me a slut?”

I nipped his earlobe and rumbled right into it. “Mm-hmm. If the boot fits.”

He laughed.

Normally I hated banter mid-fuck—especially while giving an untested hole time to adjust—but with Jared it worked.

It helped distract from the uncertainty gnawing at me: was this the start of something real, or just a one-off he’d forget the moment he came?

I’d seen straight boys play curious before, only to run back to their girlfriends like nothing happened.

The thought of Jared doing that was terrifying.

“You know what, Casey? You’re right. I am a slut.” His eyelids fell to half-mast and he swallowed lazily. “I’m your slut. So you better fuck me like one. Hard as you want. Long as you want. Take me however you need me.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, grinding a little harder. “You want me to wreck you properly?”

“Fuck yeah.” His tongue snuck out to wet his full lip. “Make me pay for wanting it so bad.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care. Just get it in me already.” He leaned up and kissed me on the lips. “All. Of. It.”

Without warning, Jared wrapped those powerful legs around my arse and forcibly pulled me the rest of the way in, shocking both of us. His blond head dropped back, stretching his strong throat, and his breath came in short huffs.

“Fuh-uhhhk.” He panted, rolling his head side to side. “How does a skinny bastard carry a cock that—” His words broke off into a strangled moan.

Give it up. Give it up. It’s mine now. All mine.

I kissed his chest, then pulled out a little, so little, and nudged in again, pushing firmly until my balls were nestled against his arse cheeks. “There it is. Your cherry’s officially been popped, Mr October.”

“Mate, that fucker popped the moment you slipped the head in,” he laughed, or tried to, his face still wincing. “This is just the victory lap.”

Then he wrapped his arms around me and locked me in a crushing, desperate hug, our bodies mashed together in a tangle of sweat and heat.

The light hair dusting his pecs rasped against my chest, as masculine and alive as the wiry curls on his thighs cinched around my hips.

Everything about him radiated virility, and yet in the raw closeness of that grip, I felt not only how different we were, but also how the same.

Two bodies—opposite and mirrored—folded together into something that defied either one alone.

A contradiction. Brutal and beautiful all at once.

Jared grunted every time I slid home, his inexperienced hole straining to accept my girth. My cock was doing something irrevocable to him, claiming him in a way that felt permanent.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” I told him. “Wanted you.”

“Same, baby. Same.”

The word hit harder than the sex. Baby. Jared Sutherland—the guy who called everyone mate or bro —had just called me baby with my cock inside him. It was like being jacked full of electricity, like suddenly I mattered in a way I’d never dared believe.

I wanted to say I love you . The words burned in my throat. But I swallowed them down, afraid they’d ruin the moment, even though they were true.

Jared reached up, fingers tangled in my black hair, his long body trembling with every thrust. We were kissing so fiercely one of our lips had started bleeding, the copper taste blooming between us.

“More, Casey. More!” Jared’s voice was shredded. “Fuck me, baby! Fuck me hard!”

I shifted my angle, bracing one knee against the soaked sheets, and began long-dicking him—slow at first, then faster, teasing the head of my cock against his tight, twitching ring before driving my full length deep into the heat of his body.

Each thrust landed with a wet slap, our sweat-slicked torsos sliding together, the bed beneath us a humid battlefield of scent and sound.

I treated the friction of his sphincter like an enemy to be broken down, hammering against the stubborn grip of his body. Every push felt like I was annihilating the last trace of virginity clinging to his walls, battering through the resistance until it had no choice but to yield.

This wasn’t the reckless ruin he’d begged for, not yet, but the training wheels were gone. I was giving him a fuck that belonged to men, not amateurs, every thrust carrying the weight of experience and intent.

Jared pressed his heels harder into my rump, welcoming the onslaught. His mouth was open and sounds poured out of him as I fucked him towards a climax. “Aww! Aww, baby!”

My balls drew up tight, heavy with the load I needed to bury inside him. I adjusted angles again—just a fraction—and hit something deep. Something electric.

“Fuck!” Jared shouted. “What the… I’m not even touching it.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, baby. I think I’m gonna—”

With a bellow, Jared’s cock erupted untouched, shooting slippery puddles across his torso.

One long creamy strand hit him in his open, moaning mouth and slid down his cheeks and chin.

One shot hit his forehead and ran into his tousled hair.

He convulsed beneath me, muscles twitching, fingers clawing at my back like he was trying to hold on to something real.

I slammed into him one last time, grinding against the spot that had undone him.

My cock pulsed hard, then exploded—shooting rope after rope deep inside him where it belonged.

My vision went white, and I let my full weight crash down, burying myself to the root while my balls emptied my very essence into his body.

Jared roared again—head thrown back, body greedy and convulsing—as another wave hit him.

More cum spurted between us, so much that I wondered for a second if he was pissing himself.

But it was all fresh seed, the Sutherland Special Blend I’d been drinking from a cup, except this time I’d fucked it straight out of his balls.

I groaned into his neck, still pumping through the last pulses of my own climax, but even as I came down I realised this was no ordinary fuck I’d just dished out.

Jared’s cock was still twitching hard, drooling the last of his load across his abs.

His teeth were chattering as full-body spasms rippled through him.

It was as if something deep inside him had been switched on and wouldn’t stop.

“Jared?” I eased back slowly, pulling free with care. “Hey—look at me. You alright?”

He tried to answer, but only stuttered gasps came out, his body still racked by aftershocks. I’d heard about this—prostate orgasms so strong they hijacked the whole system—but I’d never actually triggered one before. Watching it was terrifying and beautiful all at once.

“I–I’m f-fine,” he finally said, jaw trembling. “J-Just… fuck. W-what the hell was that?”

“Prostate orgasm.” I lay down beside him, steadying him with a hand on his chest. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“W-Whatever it is…” He sucked in a shaky breath. “…I want another one.”

I snorted, pulling him closer as the tremors shuddered through him. “Greedy bitch.”

He gave a breathless laugh, even as his flesh spasmed under my hands. Slowly, his breathing steadied, the chattering of his teeth stopped, and the violent shaking ebbed to the occasional twitch.

When he finally stilled, he hooked one hairy leg over mine, anchoring us together. His chest streaked with drying cum. His eyes found mine—glassy still, but clearer now.

“Fuck me,” he sighed, dragging a hand down his abs, smearing through the mess, then up across his throat and cheek. He sucked his slick fingers into his mouth and licked them clean. “I have never blown like that in my life.”

“So you had fun?”

“Did I what? If your dick was a theme park ride, I’d be riding that sexy fucker all day.” He reached down and gave my cock a testing squeeze. “No wonder you had me shaking like a leaf. This thing’s a bloody weapon.”

“Careful with the merchandise.”

“Merchandise? Mate, this is more like industrial equipment.” He gave my dick another squeeze. “We definitely know who the man of the house is now.”

I huffed out a laugh, though my smile soured at hearing him call me mate so soon after being his baby

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. I just gave you my bum cherry and now you’re looking all sad. Spill, Walmsley.”

I was reluctant to tell him but I also didn’t see the point in hiding words when we were both splayed out naked.