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happylittledrabbles · 3 years

Text

Sour, Then Sweet

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima

Rating: 18+ (DO NOT INTERACT IF UNDER 18)

Genre: Fluffy smut

Word Count: 7K

AO3

Kirishima used to like having sex with Bakugo...until he had to keep calling in sick every time they did it because Bakugo was so rough, it hurt doing Pro Hero work the next day. He avoids having sex with his boyfriend until Bakugo thinks that he isn't attractive anymore, causing a miscommunication between the two men. Kirishima eventually fesses up, and Bakugo reveals he's preferred romantic sex over rough the entire time.

Then, they try it out.

Eijiro Kirishima liked sex. Keyword: liked.

It’s not as if he’s completely averse to it now. No, he enjoys it—it’s very evident every time he does it. But, well, the effects of the deed afterward left much to be desired, and now, whenever Bakugo initiates, he can’t help but imagine the amount of pain he’s going to feel the next day. Bakugo is…rough. Very rough. Kirishima used to like it…the first few times. Really only the first time. But that’s probably because that was when he was between Pro Hero jobs and didn’t have to get out of bed the next day and do actual work.

“Oh, my God, just tell him!” Mina would say whenever Kirishima would FaceTime her, but he’d just change the subject and promptly hang up.

There’s no way in hell he’s going to talk about something as embarrassing as a sore butthole or the fact that his hips feel so rickety that he has to call in sick for work. Actually, he’s had to call in sick every single time they have sex. The fading hickeys on his neck don’t get the chance to fade away before being replaced with a fresh set; usually, that’d be very sexy to the Pro Hero, but when he has to go out as a venerated public figure, being seen by children and old people, it’s very much not desired. Mina lent him her concealer, saying “It does the trick” with a wink, but Pro Hero work isn’t exactly conducive to keeping makeup looking flawless. Thankfully, Pro Hero work is conducive to explaining away the scratches and “bruises” on his chest and neck.

Bakugo is genuinely concerned whenever Kirishima has to call in sick, but the redhead just pushes him out the door saying that he was fine; he just isn’t feeling it that day. But the excuses are running thin. There are only so many times he can call in sick without losing his spot in the top ten of Pro Heroes, and above all, he needs to help people. He can’t help but turn on the TV and watch in horror as depressing story after depressing story popped up on the news, all while lying on his side because sitting on his ass hurt too much.

So…he’d started turning down sex. And never initiating it. Well, he’d stopped initiating for a while. But he’d never turn it down. Now, before getting home, he’d use his trip home to think of all the excuses he could use when he climbed into bed with his boyfriend later that night if Bakugo was in the mood. He knows a simple ‘no’ would satisfy the blond and earn him a forehead kiss before being left alone, but…he still feels guilty. Therefore, the excuses came rolling in.

“Ah, sorry, just ate a big burrito.”

“I just took a shit. Ha.”

“Look over there! Oh, no…our potted plant broke. Gotta fix that.” (Kirishima pushed it off the dresser.)

“I’m really sweaty from work…no, it’s not sexy. No—a villain pissed on me, too.” (They had not.)

Bakugo, instead of being sexually frustrated, has been panicking. The main worry on his mind hasn’t been “Fuck, blue balls again?” Rather, it’s been “Is Eijiro not attracted to me anymore?” He hasn’t put on any weight. In fact, he’s gotten more muscular as an effect of his Pro Hero work. U.A. was challenging, especially with the League of Villains always up their asses, but at least they had their teachers and other Pro Heroes looking after them. Now it’s all up to him. He thought this feeling of losing control would stay at work, but clearly, it’s followed him back home because he can’t get a grip on Kirishima. Any time he thinks he’s figured Kirishima’s feelings out or gotten him close to talking about his feelings, he slips right out of his hands and locks himself behind a door, both metaphorically and physically. He’s already losing control and stamina in his Pro Hero work; the last thing he wants is for that to happen to his relationship.

Bakugo’s frustration boils to a point after a particularly hard day when he comes home and sees Eijiro on the couch, and instead of his boyfriend greeting him with a hug and a kiss, he stiffens and looks over his shoulder with a weary smile.

“What’s wrong with you?” Bakugo shouts, throwing his hands up in the air as he kicks off his boots. His anger subsides immediately when he sees Kirishima’s face fall, and he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, that came out wrong. I mean, why have you been acting weird?”

Kirishima frowns, visibly confused. “Weird? What do you mean?” He gets up from the couch and pads over to his boyfriend, his hands nervously laced together in front of him.

Bakugo’s scowl deepens, his eyebrows furrowing in the middle of his forehead. He snaps his arm forward, motioning to Kirishima’s hands. “I mean, you won’t even touch me. Why are you acting so nervous every time I get close to you?” He steps forward, and Kirishima takes a step back. Bakugo’s heart falls to his feet, cementing them to the ground. He’s paralyzed.

“See?” he adds with the smallest voice he’s used in a while.

It’ll be painful for Kirishima to explain why he’s been avoiding sex. But it’s even more painful to watch his boyfriend, who is usually so full of gusto, look like a timid mouse before him, pleading with him to explain himself. Kirishima never thought that communication would be this hard. It’s so simple out on the field: “Uravity, on your right!” “The villain is heading west down Third Street!” It’s short, informational, and unimportant in the long scheme of things. But relationships are a whole ‘nother level.

“I—” he starts, but panic sets in and closes his throat to any speech.

“Spit it out!” Bakugo’s hair is standing on end, and he lets out a long breath. “C’mon, Eijiro. You’re treating me like a villain here.” He hesitates before asking quietly, “Are you not attracted to me anymore?”

Kirishima’s chin dimples as he tries to hold back tears. He’d never thought that he had been hurting Bakugo, too. But clearly, he had, to the point of the other thinking he isn’t attractive. That is the most ludicrous thing he’s ever heard. So ludicrous, in fact, that out of pure spite, his mouth opens to offer the explanation once and for all.

Kirishima groans from frustration. “No, that’s not it at all! You’re still the most attractive man ever! Like, the first time I saw you, I was like ‘wow.’ Then when I saw you blow stuff up, I was like ‘wow.’ Like, you went kablam and kaboosh! It was so cool! What’s there not to be attracted to?”

Bakugo scowls. “Then why won’t you have sex with me?! Why do you keep putting things off? If you don’t want to do it anymore, that’s fine. I guess.” He begins to stutter out his next sentence before stopping to recollect himself. “I just want to know…if I did anything wrong.”

Kirishima’s never seen his boyfriend so downtrodden. He’s desperate to put a smile back on his boyfriend’s face, but the only way to do that would be to have sex with him, and well…

He purses his lips before coming clean. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise! I’m sorry, Katsuki! It’s just…you’re…” He looks up from the floor to meet Bakugo’s eyes, the blond’s ruby eyes darker than usual. Kirishima inhales sharply and balls his hands into fists by his sides, finally yelling, “You’re too rough!”

When he has the courage to open his eyes, they reveal a thoroughly confused Bakugo. His head is cocked, and his scowl has morphed into a straight line.

“…What?” Bakugo asks, lifting his hands up to look at them. “Like…my voice? Or how I act?”

“Uh…” He’s gone this far. Time to come clean. Kirishima rubs the back of his neck awkwardly and groans before saying, “In…in bed. You’re too rough in bed.”

It’s comical how quiet the two men are and how quickly they meet eyes. They just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like eons before Bakugo takes a step forward, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m too rough…in bed,” he repeats, and Kirishima feebly nods.

“I’m sorry for letting it drag on for so long; I know that isn’t really manly of me. But I didn’t…I didn’t know how to tell you. It’s embarrassing, but I can’t do it anymore. My ass hurts so much after, and—and the hickeys and bruises are embarrassing, and—”

Kirishima is silenced by the softest pair of lips upon his own, a mere brushing of lips together. He barely would have noticed had his vision not been clouded by a flurry of spiky blond hair and blushed tan skin. His hands are up in the air, unsure of what to do with them, until they come to rest on Bakugo’s shoulders, his fingertips digging gently into the hard muscles underneath them.

“You fucking idiot,” Bakugo whispers underneath his breath before diving in for a deeper kiss, making sure to keep it passionate but gentle. He lets his hands roam Kirishima’s torso with a feather-like touch before resting them on his hips, giving them a tender squeeze to let the other know that none of his words have any bite. But Kirishima has known that for a long time. Ever since they first met at U.A., while everybody feared Bakugo, Kirishima knew there was something else under the surface. And there was. Pure, unadulterated love.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bakugo asks, pulling away for a short second before going back to kissing. “You should’ve told me.” Kiss. “Why don’t you ever tell me anything?” Kiss. “Now I feel like an asshole.” Kiss. “You’re the asshole for not telling me, asshole.” Kiss.

“If only you’d let me talk!” Kirishima exclaims with a laugh, cupping a hand over Bakugo’s mouth to stop any further kisses for a moment. “I know, I am the asshole. But it’s humiliating, Katsuki! Admitting that your butthole hurts? Why the hell would I ever tell anybody that? Especially after doing hard anal the day before? Mina laughed in my face—”

“You told Mina and not me?!” Bakugo roared, tearing Kirishima’s hand from his mouth. “You are dead. You’re fucking dead. You both are dead, you and that purple shitbag.”

Kirishima has to hold back a chuckle. “She’s pink.”

Bakugo’s head whips back to his boyfriend, his eyes flaming hot. “Not the point!”

Kirishima laughs again and cups the sides of Bakugo’s face, which is now a mild shade of red. He leans forward and plants a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose, drawing himself back with a soft smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, Katsuki. Seriously. I really should’ve told you. I just figured that you really like rough sex and didn’t want to get in the way of that. We can still do it…just on a weekend or a day off so I can recover.”

“No, no.” Bakugo wipes Kirishima’s hands off his face and laces his own fingers through his boyfriend’s, dropping their hands between them. “We’re not doing that anymore. Unless you want it. I just…”

Now Bakugo’s face is the shade of the hot sauce in the fridge. He suddenly understands why Kirishima was so embarrassed now. Talking about sex is…embarrassing. Their first time, while sentimental, is not something he wants to remember often. In fact, his brain only brings it up when it wants him to cringe, like on a random patrol down the block. Full of misunderstandings and miscommunications, it was a jumble of body parts and weird fluids and Kirishima’s head hitting the headboard so hard he got a lump afterward. Well, the misunderstandings and miscommunications clearly didn’t stop there because they are in the same situation—just without the jumble of body parts and weird fluids. Not yet, anyway.

Bakugo inhales like Kirishima did, using the short time to build up the courage. “I thought you were the one who liked it rough. You seemed…really turned on that one time in the love hotel. With all the, uh, handcuffs…and stuff. So I just…kept on doing it like that.”

Kirishima’s eyes are wide as an owl’s, and he tries not to bite through his lip with his sharp teeth with how hard he’s attempting at not laughing.

“You based…our entire sex life off one time where I seemed particularly turned on?” Kirishima asks, his voice wavering as the laughter tries to butt in. “Is that what the logic was in your head?”

Bakugo yanks his hands back to himself and starts toward the bathroom. “Shut up, you idiot! Forget I ever said anything.”

“No!” Kirishima practically throws himself at his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. “No, I think it’s adorable. You just wanted to make me happy, right?”

Bakugo stiffens before relenting with a nod.

Kirishima rubs his cheek against Bakugo’s back and grins. “You know, I was so excited that one time because of when you weren’t rough. When I had the blindfold on and I couldn’t see you, and you slowly dragged your fingers over me…” He mimics what he’s saying on Bakugo’s chest, stroking his pecs with the tips of his fingers. He lifts them up to the skin above the deep V of his costume, feeling the warmth of Bakugo’s skin skyrocket.

“That’s what made me so excited,” Kirishima explains. He begins to step away from Bakugo, but his hands are firmly kept against Bakugo’s chest by the other’s grip on them.

“Don’t move.” Bakugo’s voice is strong but with a needy undertone. He turns around in Kirishima’s arms, his eyes looking down at their feet. “I’m sorry.”

Kirishima chuckles. “That’s not something I hear every day. This is a cause for celebration.”

Before Bakugo can retaliate or stomp away in a fit of rage, Kirishima stands on his toes, kissing the firecracker on the forehead. “There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re still my favorite manly man.”

Bakugo manages a smile despite his previous bitterness and nods. “I’m gonna go shower.”

Kirishima nods along with him. “I’ll shower after you. Mind throwing a frozen pizza in the oven while I’m in there for dinner?”

Bakugo’s smile fades, and he hums absentmindedly as he turns around to go to the bathroom. “Yeah, sure.”

Kirishima’s smile fades as well at that response. Hadn’t everything been resolved? Why was his boyfriend still acting like that?

His worries continue for the better part of the evening, especially when Bakugo steps out of the shower and doesn’t say anything in passing before flopping on the bed and going on his phone. Kirishima tries to share a smile with him, or even just a glance, but there is no contact. He frowns to himself and goes to shower, his mind swirling with panic the entire time he’s in there. Once he’s done, he steps out and wraps a towel around his waist before walking into the bedroom. However, he doesn’t walk two steps in before he spots Bakugo sitting at the foot of the bed, smoothing the throw blanket down.

“Babe, what’s going—”

“Eijiro, c’mere,” the blond says, his voice gruff but sincere. He pats the spot next to him, and Kirishima obeys, nervously fumbling with the towel as he sits down. Bakugo places a hand over his boyfriend’s hands to still them and looks up with a gaze of pure love and admiration. His eyes rake over Kirishima’s body, the tan skin still dewy from the shower and his stringy hair framing his angular face. He truly is the manliest man, Bakugo thinks before biting back a snicker. That is clear evidence that he’s been spending too much time with the redhead: he’s even starting to think like him.

Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing.

“Eijiro,” Bakugo starts but hesitates. He clears his throat before saying, “Y’know, I like rough sex, but I’ve always been more of a romantic guy. Um, like…” He sheepishly scratches the back of his head, his eyes refusing to meet Kirishima’s. “Candles…or rose petals. Or…like, soft music. I don’t know. But…I—I like that more.” He bites his lip. “Especially with you.”

Kirishima’s eyes are wide as saucers. He knew that Bakugo didn’t always act like the rude stereotype people make him out to be, but never in a million years did he think that he would purposefully like lovey-dovey sex. He didn’t like fucking—he liked making love. Just the thought gives Kirishima butterflies, which are now running rampant in his stomach. He places a hand over it to stop the feeling from going down too far, but the look in Bakugo’s eyes makes it seem as if that isn’t so bad.

“I…I want to try it,” Bakugo finishes, twiddling his thumbs anxiously for his boyfriend’s response.

However, he doesn’t even need to think about it. He replies, “Then let’s try it.”

Now Bakugo’s eyes are wide, his head turning slowly to meet Kirishima’s determined gaze. He wants to laugh at how adorably resolute his boyfriend looks. Instead, he whispers, “Eijiro,” but he doesn’t finish his sentence, letting it trail off as he leans forward and touches his top lip with Kirishima’s. Both their eyes are lowered, their breaths quickening and their heart rates jumping.

Kirishima closes the gap and nearly falls into their routine foreplay of smashing lips and roughly tearing their clothes off each other like hungry animals. It’s strange doing it so slowly; he’d never felt Bakugo so vividly before. He can taste the strawberry lollipop some kid probably gave him on the street. He can feel every wrinkle, every cut on his bottom lip from how he’d anxiously bite it. The kiss has no teeth, no sharpness at all. Just the soft smacking of their lips and their warm breaths against each other’s chins.

It feels juvenile, all of it. As if they’re going to have sex for the first time and getting to know each other’s bodies. Bakugo lifts his hand and hesitates before gingerly placing it on Kirishima’s chest.

Cute, Kirishima thinks of Bakugo’s nervousness.

“You can touch me, Katsuki,” he whispers, guiding Bakugo’s hand to press firmly into his chest. He’s certain Bakugo can feel his heartbeat going at the speed of a hummingbird’s, but he’s not embarrassed. It’s perfect: it shows how much he’s enjoying this without him having to voice it.

“Okay,” Bakugo replies and returns to kissing, cupping Kirishima’s pec in his palm and giving it a tender squeeze.

“Mm,” Kirishima breathes, breaking the kiss.

Bakugo’s face was already red, but now it’s horridly scarlet at the mere sound of the soft groan. He’s also nervous; he knows that Kirishima will tell him—now that they’ve worked everything out communication-wise—if he’s being too rough, but the panic still lingers.

“Good?” he asks.

Kirishima can tell Bakugo’s being overly cautious, and all he does is direct his boyfriend’s hand to go lower down his torso, letting out another shaky breath. “Y-yes,” he replies, his eyelids heavily lidded. “Good.”

Bakugo nods, and they return to kissing, the one thing both know how to do softly by now. It’s everything else they need to learn how to do. One step at a time. The only “rough thing” they do is when Kirishima playfully nips at Bakugo’s bottom lip with his sharp teeth, eliciting an irresistible groan out of the other.

Bakugo laces his fingers with Kirishima’s and gently pushes him down onto the mattress, never breaking their lip-lock as he turns to settle himself between his legs. While one hand is secured in his boyfriend’s, he uses the other to roam Kirishima’s body, of which he had missed for far too long. He caresses his soft stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath the thick skin. He runs his fingers down his black happy trail (he burst out laughing the first time he saw it, saying “So the carpet doesn’t match the drapes?” earning a swift kick to the head). His fingers’ journey is stopped by the towel, and Bakugo separates from Kirishima to look down at him for approval.

“Yes, Katsuki,” Kirishima mumbles, his breaths already heavy with anticipation. “Touch me.”

Bakugo smiles and slips his fingers underneath the towel, his hand bumping into Kirishima’s cock only a few centimeters down.

“You’re that excited for me?” Bakugo asks, gripping Kirishima and drawing out a shrill gasp from him. “I’m flattered.”

Kirishima’s about to say something before he’s cut off by his own moan once Bakugo begins pumping his hand, his head falling to the side and his free hand coming up to cover his mouth. He bites his knuckles as Bakugo’s lips fall to his jaw, then to his chin, then to his neck, leaving his skin prickling and pink wherever those lips fall.

The knuckles provide the bare minimum of sound dampening, his voice still echoing off the sides of their bedroom as Bakugo’s stroking gets faster and his kisses grow more feverish. He resorts to draping his forearm over his eyes, squeezing his eyelids shut underneath the darkness his arm provides. If he’s going to be heard no matter what he does, then he’ll hide whatever embarrassing expressions he’s making. Usually, the foreplay and sex go by so quickly, there’s no time to even look at each other. But he can feel Bakugo’s eyes on him, on his body, and the thought makes him squirm.

“Before you say anything, no hickeys, got it,” Bakugo says after pulling away from kissing. He takes a moment now that he’s hovering over Kirishima to admire his body as it is. Usually, they went too fast to savor each other’s bodies. For instance, he didn’t know his boyfriend had a freckle in the middle of his sternum. Or that his nipples are slightly mismatched—but are gorgeous all the same. Or how his stomach expands then contracts erratically to compensate for his hurried breaths.

“You’re beautiful,” Bakugo whispers, diving in to kiss Kirishima’s jaw.

Kirishima chuckles before letting out another soft moan. “I’m a man, you’re supposed to call me handsome.”

“You’re a dumbass,” Bakugo replies, tweaking Kirishima’s nipple playfully and earning a surprised yelp and displeased grumble. “A beautiful dumbass.”

“I’m going to harden and crack you across the face.”

“But you’re already hard.”

“Hey-!” Before Kirishima act out his promise, Bakugo tightens his grip on him and strokes him even faster, pressing his thumb into the head and smearing the precum around it. “A-ah!”

Kirishima shivers, but Bakugo isn’t done with his compliments, even though his boyfriend thinks he doesn’t deserve them.

“Beautiful nose,” Bakugo says, kissing the tip of Kirishima’s nose that’s peeking out from underneath his forearm.

“Beautiful cheek.” Kiss.

“Beautiful jaw.” Kiss.

“Beautiful neck.” Kiss.

“Beautiful chest.” Kiss.

“Beautiful stomach.” Kiss.

Bakugo sits back on his haunches as he pulls the towel away completely, revealing the rest of Kirishima’s body. Another shiver racks Kirishima’s body at all the compliments, his legs self-consciously shutting closed at all the love. He isn’t used to being looked at. To being revered. Of course, Bakugo compliments him, but it’s usually laced with an insult or said begrudgingly. Not like this. Not so easily. Not so…tenderly. It’s…nice. The butterflies are at full speed now, and he’s feeling dizzy as he watches Bakugo continue to press kisses into his skin. Probably because all the blood in his body is draining into his dick. With each compliment, his head gets fuzzier.

“Cute dick,” Bakugo says, which brings Kirishima’s mind back to fully functioning.

He tosses his arm off his face and sits up to look at his boyfriend staring up deviously at him from between his legs, his cock right in front of his face. “What? Not beautiful? Cute?” he exclaims, his voice breaking.

“Yeah, now shut up,” Bakugo says, pushing Kirishima back onto the bed and giving the head a kiss before the redhead can retaliate.

“T-that’s playing—ah! D-dirty…” Kirishima says before dissolving back into his moans.

Bakugo snickers and gives his cock another lick before kissing the tops of Kirishima’s thighs, delighting in seeing them flinch at the touch. “Beautiful thighs.”

He lifts Kirishima’s leg to his shoulder, all the while still pumping him vigorously.

“Beautiful calves.” Kiss.

He kisses the top of Kirishima’s foot. “Beautiful feet.”

“You’re into feet now?” Kirishima asks with a half-laugh, half-gasp.

Bakugo doesn’t answer. He knows that what he’s about to do will be funnier than anything he could say. He licks a trail from Kirishima’s ankle, putting down his leg in the process, to his thigh, watching with satisfaction as his boyfriend’s back arches off the bed. Without giving Kirishima time to recover, he engulfs his cock in his mouth, nuzzling his nose into the black happy trail before coming up for air.

“T-too fast!” Kirishima cries out, his forearm pressing down on his face while his other arm was outstretched, his hand fisting Bakugo’s spiked blond locks. “I’m gonna come…”

“From just that?” Bakugo teases. When he feels Kirishima’s legs tense underneath him and try to close, he forces them back open, leaning forward to give the tip another kiss. “C’mon, Eijiro, I thought I knew you better.”

But what Bakugo is really thinking is: If this is what it takes for him to come so easily, no wonder it took him so long when we were doing it rough before.

He makes his way back to Kirishima’s cock and lays his tongue flat against the base before licking up the shaft, giving special attention to the head before doing the whole routine again. He takes it into his mouth again and, using the spit pooling at the base, wets his fingers and circles Kirishima’s entrance.

Wait, he thinks, stopping himself. That’s too rough.

He lifts himself from his mewling boyfriend, reaching over to the nightstand and retrieving a condom and the lube bottle rarely used since they get to the deed so quickly, there’s barely any time to stretch.

Fuck. I’m an idiot. No wonder Eijiro was complaining about the pain. It must’ve hurt like a bitch.

He coats his fingers in a generous layer of lube and lowers himself back onto Kirishima, rounding his entrance tantalizingly.

“Katsukiii!” Kirishima whines, his hand back in Bakugo’s hair. “Please!”

“Patience, babe,” Bakugo replies nonchalantly. “Didn’t you say you wanted it slow?”

“Not this slow!” the other exclaims from underneath his forearm. His legs spread apart to make room for his boyfriend, his body language much more communicative than his words.

Bakugo is about to tease Kirishima some more before he gives in and works in a finger, spreading Kirishima’s walls and pumping it back and forth. He’s just as needy and impatient; sure, he loves some romantic lovemaking, but damn, did he want the main course.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, looking up at his boyfriend while he busies his mouth with his cock.

Kirishima feebly nods. “Getting t-there.”

“Just have to find the right spot,” Bakugo whispers to himself, using Kirishima’s moans and sighs as a guide to where his prostate is. He has a vague idea; however, yet again, they went too fast for him to properly know where it is.

He inserts another finger, scissoring Kirishima open while trying to find his spot at the same time. All the while giving him a blowjob. Why hadn’t he done this earlier? The delicious moans and cute exclamations and sultry expressions Kirishima’s releasing is addicting, and Bakugo can’t picture their future sex life without any of it. Even though they’ll probably be having sex less often with how long the process is going to take now, it’s completely worth it.

“Yes!” Kirishima cries out, his back arching again and his head flying backward into the pillow. His legs begin to tremble the more Bakugo massages the bump raised from the velvety walls around it. “Katsuki—hnngh! Feels…so g-good…”

Bakugo puts all his energy into working Kirishima open so that he feels no pain the next day while paying special attention to that special bump, sending Kirishima into a pleasure-fueled frenzy.

Kirishima’s tripping over his own words, his tongue getting caught in “C-coming! I’m—"

“Not so fast,” Bakugo says after popping off his cock, slowing down his hand and slowly slipping it out. Kirishima lets out a high-pitched whine at the loss inside him, and Bakugo chuckles as he pushes himself back up to his boyfriend’s face and kisses his cheek. “Just a little more, baby. You can take it.”

Kirishima’s panting like a dog in heat at this point. The only reason he isn’t completely humiliated is because his forearm is his saving grace, but even that is taken away by Bakugo. He grips Kirishima’s wrist and uncovers his face once and for all, pushing his wrist into the mattress.

“I want to see your face,” he whispers in the other’s ear, giving the lobe a feathery kiss. Kirishima grumbles something under his breath but complies to his boyfriend’s request since, after all, how is he supposed to see Bakugo’s face and all his expressions if his eyes are closed?

Bakugo uses his free hand to lift the condom up to his mouth. He uses his teeth to tear the packaging, spitting out the corner and retrieving the condom from inside. He meets Kirishima’s eyes for the first time the entire night, which are dark with lust and wild from unadulterated pleasure. “Mind putting it on me?”

Kirishima’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, but he eventually nods, pushing himself up by the elbows and taking the condom from his boyfriend’s fingers. He reaches forward, pinches the tip, and slides it on with ease, giving Bakugo’s cock a gentle squeeze and quick stroke to tease him back for everything he’s done.

“Fuck,” Bakugo mutters with a heavy exhale. He smirks and looks up at Kirishima, who’s now laying back down with his hands fisting the pillow underneath his head and his pink legs spread wide open in invitation. “You can be a little devil, can’t you?”

Kirishima lifts a hand to Bakugo’s face, drawing him closer until their lips are touching once again. Bakugo’s blond eyelashes tickle his cheeks, and he smiles. “Make love to me, Katsuki.”

Bakugo’s power trip is gone, replaced with highlighter bright red cheeks. That’s it. He’s going to only make love to Kirishima from now on, especially if it means this.

He nods; it’s the only thing he can do. He glides his hands into Kirishima’s, prying them from the pillow and pressing them into the mattress next to his shoulders. Their hands are so warm together, slick with sweat, their knuckles white from how tightly they’re clutching each other. Their hands are their anchors. Bakugo nor Kirishima can imagine separating them now.

“I love you,” Kirishima whispers, placing a butterfly kiss on the tip of his boyfriend’s nose. “So much.”

Bakugo smiles and presses his sweaty forehead’s into Kirishima’s. “I know.”

With that, he slowly slides inside, letting out a low groan at the sudden warmth and tightness surrounding him. Kirishima, on the other hand, is speechless. He’s confused; either it’s the combination of the lube and the stretching or he’s just gotten looser from all the rough sex, but…it doesn’t hurt. He just feels full, yet to feel pleasure, but if he shifts his hips a specific way, he’s certain he’ll feel it in no time. But it’s the lack of pain that he’s surprised about. He couldn’t be happier.

“You okay?” Bakugo asks from the crook of Kirishima’s neck, where he buried his face, his voice muffled by the soft skin underneath.

“Move,” Kirishima demands, moving his hips down and whirling them around. He’s left speechless again as Bakugo’s cock brushes against his prostate, his eyes wide and his nails digging into Bakugo’s knuckles. “Move, please.” He doesn’t want to rush it in case of injury, but damn, he’s on cloud nine.

Don’t need to ask me twice, Bakugo thinks. His hips move on their own, rocking forward slowly and drawing groans from both men. He starts up a languid rhythm, listening to the noises spilling out of his boyfriend’s cherry-red mouth both because it’s music to his ears and for any signs of distress. But there is none. Just begs and whines and mewls.

“Faster,” Kirishima pleads, his thighs clinging to Bakugo’s sides. Bakugo can feel them shaking, as well as the rest of Kirishima’s body. And he gladly complies, ramping up the speed, but it’s nothing compared to their fuckfests. Even though it’s slow compared to their other times, Kirishima is treating it as if he’s going a hundred kilometers an hour in terms of going absolutely crazy. His back is arching so much, his stomach meets Bakugo’s, their chests touching every time Bakugo pushes inside. His neck might break with how far his head is thrown back, allowing his Adam’s apple to protrude from his neck and dance along to every single moan and whimper that comes out like samba music.

“Yes, Katsuki—fee…ls s-so—nngh!” He dissolves into blabbers and incoherency, working his hands free from Bakugo’s to cling onto his back for dear life, leaving ugly red scratches along the way. “I want…I want—ugh!”

“Use your words, baby,” Bakugo murmurs, and Kirishima’s shoulders hike up to his ears at the warm breath on one of them.

“Mm… deeper, harder—” That’s all that comes out of Kirishima before he’s overtaken by moans again.

Bakugo works out his pace. Usually, he just goes fast. But Kirishima isn’t asking for faster anymore, he’s asking for deeper. Harder. Same speed, but just—

SMACK!

“GUH!” A guttural cry escapes Kirishima’s throat, and Bakugo groans along with the hard thrust. It echoed off the walls, the bed creaking to show its displeasure with the move.

“Yes! Like that! Just like that!” The scratches are numerous and ugly now, covering the majority of Bakugo’s back.

“Good boy,” Bakugo mumbles, pressing a kiss onto Kirishima’s forehead adorned by beads of sweat. “You did good. F-fuck.” Now Bakugo’s getting incoherent, unable to form a singular thought as he continues the punishing thrusts and slow pace. “You f-feel so good, baby, so good…”

“Close…I-I’m close,” Kirishima warns, crossing his ankles behind Bakugo’s back to push him even closer. He drops his hands from Bakugo’s back and cradles his face with them, bringing his boyfriend’s face back to being nose-to-nose with him. “God, I love you. Make love to me, Katsuki. Love me, love me, love me—”

“For the rest of my life,” Bakugo murmurs back against Kirishima’s lips. “For the rest of my goddamn life, I’ll love you.”

That’s all that Kirishima needs. Yes, the pleasure he’s receiving from his prostate being abused by Bakugo’s cock is more than enough to push him over the edge. But hearing his boyfriend, the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with, confirm that he in fact feels the same way and is using passionate sex to communicate that to him…it’s more than enough.

“Katsuki, I’m gonna come—I’m—!”

With one last snap of Bakugo’s hips, Kirishima’s done. White blurs his vision, his entire body racked with pleasure, tears, and electric pulses, both across his skin and deep in his muscles. His hair stands on end, goosebumps decorate his skin, his body is pink and glistening with a sheen of sweat, and his come is the last garnish on the eye candy that is Kirishima’s orgasm.

Bakugo would’ve come anyway from how tight Kirishima’s clamping down on him, but just the look of ecstasy on his love’s face pushes him over the brim. He buries himself deep inside Kirishima and grabs one of Kirishima’s hands on his face for support, burying it in the mattress. He rides through the demanding orgasm that commands his entire body, his hips continuing to snap forward because of the aftershocks, causing even more oversensitivity to torment his body. He feels the ends of his hair singe from how hot he’s burning, and he’s afraid that the intense orgasm will lead to him burning down the apartment.

“Fuck!” he growls, using Kirishima’s lips to silence himself.

“Katsuki, Katsuki…” Kirishima pants, trying to separate from Bakugo’s kisses. “I love you…”

The two men stay there for a few more moments catching their breath, Bakugo long since collapsed on top of his redhead. Their chests rise to meet each other, their skin sticking together like glue. Their hands are still joined together, making a nice imprint on the mattress. Everything about them is joined together.

Somehow, Bakugo finds the courage to push himself off Kirishima and pull out. Both men hiss with displeasure, the loss of warmth on Bakugo’s end and the loss of fullness on Kirishima’s end. He carefully rolls the condom off him and ties it at the end, tossing it in the trash and flopping onto his back. Kirishima immediately saddles up next to Bakugo, tossing a leg over Bakugo’s hips and laying on his chest.

“Thank you,” Kirishima mumbles, giving the skin underneath him a kiss.

“For what?” Bakugo asks then laughs. “For giving you the best night of your goddamned life?”

Kirishima laughs and hardens his fist to punch Bakugo playfully on the chest—delicately enough to not scar, but hard enough to hurt. And it does: it elicits a great yelp of pain from his boyfriend.

“No. I mean, yeah, but—I mean, there will be other nights—ugh, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He props himself up on his elbow to look Bakugo directly in the eye, unhardening his fist to slide it up to cup his boyfriend’s cheek. “Thank you for understanding. For not making fun of me. I…” He sighs. “I regret not talking to you. I’ll always regret that. But I just wanted to make you happy and being rough seemed to make you happy. So, I went along with it.”

“Eijiro—”

“Let me finish,” Kirishima stresses. “You didn’t force me. I liked those times. But this…this is different. I’ll tell you what I’m in the mood for. I will let you know.”

Bakugo’s eyelids are heavy with fatigue, but he nods and runs a hand through Kirishima’s damp hair, shaking the hair into his boyfriend’s eyes with an amused smile. “Okay, babe. Just don’t pull that shit again.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Kirishima says. “Manly men don’t break their promises.” He winks before relaxing back into his boyfriend’s side. “I love you.”

Bakugo snorts and drapes a lazy arm over Kirishima’s waist. “I love you, too. Idiot.”

They’re both drifting off to sleep when Kirishima whispers, “Who would’ve known you’re just a big ol’ softie for lovey dovey sex in the end.”

Bakugo stares at the grinning redhead through the darkness.

“Ow! Okay, I get it, sorry! Stop burning me!”

…

When Kirishima awakes, Bakugo’s already left for the early shift he picked up from Ingenium since he’s sick. When Ingenium’s sick, that means something is really wrong with him since that nerd always clocks in, even if he has to wear a face mask because he’s hacking up his lungs from the flu.

He stretches his arms over his head, delaying the inevitable: the sharp pain in the ass from sitting up. He’s woken up with this pain one too many times, so he turns to slip off the bed instead of sitting up. However, out of habit, he sits on the edge of the bed to stand up, and he almost misses it before he stands up. His ass is fine. He has no pain. He feels nothing. It’s almost as if they didn’t have sex last night.

Did they? Yesterday feels like a fever dream, but that doesn’t make the fact that he feels no pain after sex any less real. He stands up, almost as if testing the waters, and walks around. No pain. He slips on some boxers, which includes lifting his legs, which also elicits no pain. He sits down on their ottoman. No pain. He gets in the shower to clean himself up, pressing his fingers inside himself. No pain, other than the usual sting from going in dry. No throbbing, no swelling, no puffiness. Nothing.

No more pain.

Kirishima has successfully had sex without needing to call in sick afterwards. And he’s ready to celebrate.

He cooks himself a giant breakfast fit for a king and goes out on patrol with a grin so big, it startles a few children. He knows his coworkers know that he got laid, but they don’t know why specifically he’s so happy about getting laid. He can actually walk. And use his Quirk without a flare-up of pain in his lower back. And he doesn’t need to worry about bruises or hickeys to cover up. Mina sees his joyful demeanor and tries to “accidentally” wipe away the concealer on his neck as a joke, only to reveal that there’s nothing to cover up.

“Did you even have sex?” she asks, and Kirishima gleefully nods.

“Yep.”

Mina’s eyes snap open. “What? How are you standing? Why didn’t you call in sick?”

Kirishima smirks and shrugs. “No pain.” He winks at his pink friend and throws her two finger guns. “I worked it all out.”

Bakugo, on the other hand, is suffering from taunts from everybody in his department. He has a relatively conservative costume compared to Kirishima’s, but his shoulders are still exposed for all the world to see as a spectacle. Kirishima made sure of that. They’re tattooed with angry red scratch marks, and anybody can see that they lead to a maze of many more rows underneath his shirt. Bakugo can’t even think of an excuse. Yes, a villain is an obvious excuse, but with how airy and normal he’s acting at the agency, anybody can infer what happened. He’s blowing up a lot less and isn’t using his Quirk on innocent bystanders to intimidate them.

“You should get laid more often,” one of the Pro Heroes in his agency mutters under his breath, and in return gets his eyebrows singed off.

But it’s true, and Bakugo can’t deny it. When he gets home, he finds Kirishima on the bed sitting back on his heels, his eyelids heavy and his sharp teeth tugging on his bottom lip in a smirk. He takes full advantage of the fact that his good behavior at work earned him a day off and that Kirishima got a day off from so efficiently handling villains by making love to his boyfriend all night. When Kirishima wakes up the next day to reveal, yet again, that he has no pain, he can’t help himself to a morning lovemaking session as well. And the cycle continues.

Eijiro Kirishima likes sex. Keyword: likes.

#my hero academia #mha smut #mha #mha bakugou #mha kirishima #boku no academia #boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #mha fanfiction #boku no hero fanfic #kirishima smut #bnha kirishima #kiribaku #bnha bakugou #bakugou smut

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lallyloo · 3 years

Text

The Frozen Corn Incident

(I have stuff going on and haven’t written in a bit, but Rhett’s cold taint wouldn’t leave me alone.. so here’s some awkward silliness and a small amount of smut. Thank you @imincognitohere for listening to me ramble on about this today.. and yesterday) They’d been back in the office for awhile, and Link had been so focused on his own work, typing away, he’d barely registered the grunts and sighs from behind him. Complaints after filming were something they were used to – belly aches from hot peppers, headaches from too much sugar, chafed balls from wedgie hangman. They were both equal complainers, and they’d both grown accustomed to tuning the other one out. And Rhett was trying to be quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. He was freezing in places he never imagined he could be so cold, and nothing he did seemed to help. When a frustrated whine cut into Link’s concentration, he spun his chair around to see why Rhett was still complaining about frozen corn on his taint. Rhett looked miserable with one hand stuffed down his jeans, and the sight didn’t surprise Link – after so many years side by side, they’d been in all kinds of crazy situations. They’d seen the good, the bad, and a whole lot of awkward. A hand down the pants seemed par for the course and Link couldn’t help but smirk. “You still sufferin’, brother?”

Rhett’s eyes flicked to him, as if he hadn’t even noticed his presence, and he gave Link a pained look.

“My taint is still freezing, man.”

“You still sittin’ on the corn or what?”

“No, I’m not sittin’ on the corn,” Rhett huffed, and his arm tensed up as he cupped himself harder. “It’s been an hour and I’m still cold. Think I got frost bite or somethin’.”

Link’s eyes went wide, “Frost bite on your taint?”

“Man, I dunno. It’s still freezin’ and nothing I’m doing is helping.”

“Not even your hand? You’ve got the hottest hands out of everyone– ”

“Yeah, but– ”

“Always so dang sweaty– ”

“Link, I know, but it’s not makin’ a difference. It’s like the cold dries up the sweat, or turns it into ice or something.”

“I don’t think that’s– ”

“I gotta figure out somethin’. What happens if you get frost bite on your taint? Can they amputate a chode?”

“Ugh, don’t call it that.”

“But can they?”

“Rhett, they’re not gonna –

“I don’t wanna lose my taint.” Rhett stared at him in horror, “Or my balls?? What if –

“Rhett, you’re not gonna lose your taint or your balls. You’re crazy, dude.”

“Well, it feels like it. Feels like I’m losin’ feeling..”

“In your balls?”

“Everywhere.”

“Your butthole?”

“I dunno, maybe!”

“What about your..” Link raised his eyebrows and made a pointing motion towards Rhett’s dick. “Your tallywhacker?”

“Dude, shut up!” Rhett leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes, bringing his free hand up to cover them. “Don’t make me think about it. I can’t lose my dick to a frozen corn incident.”

Link laughed, “You’re being dramatic. You’re not gonna lose your dick.”

Rhett lifted his hand to glare at him, his eyes narrow. “You don’t know.”

“You want me to get a heating pad or somethin’?”

Rhett was hopeful for a moment. “Do we have one?”

“I don’t know,” Link shrugged. “I could text Jenna and ask her to get one.”

“No,” Rhett waved his hand and covered his eyes again. “I’m not askin’ her to get a heating pad for my nads.”

“What? Why not?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Dude, I don’t have to say it’s for your nutsack– ”

“And my taint.”

“Your nutsack and your taint. And your butthole if you’re gonna get specific.”

“Link, I’m sufferin’ here.”

“Can I text her?”

“NO!”

Link stared at him for a moment before letting out a loud sigh. “Stand up.”

“What?” Rhett sat up a little straighter in the chair.

“Just stand up.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna help you, now stand up.”

Rhett stood up slowly, his hand still stuck down his jeans.

“Gimme this.” Link grabbed Rhett’s wrist and eased his hand out of his pants, running his fingertips over Rhett’s. “Dude, your fingers are like ice!”

“I know, I told you!”

Link forced Rhett’s hand into his pocket, shoving it down deep and giving it a couple forceful pats for emphasis. “Leave it in there, let it warm up.”

“What’re you gonna– ”

“I’m gonna help you.”

Link took him by the shoulders and angled him so Link was up against his right side and Rhett went willingly, glancing down between them where Link’s hand was hovering over his zipper.

“Like, help help?”

“Yeah,” Link cupped the air and made a rubbing motion with his hand, “Help help. That okay?”

Rhett nodded, his eyebrows raised, “Well, yeah.”

Link popped the button on his jeans and eased the zipper down, and Rhett held his breath as Link’s hand slipped inside his boxer briefs.

Link was to-the-point about it, seemingly unfazed by the proximity of his hand to Rhett’s dick.

“You want me to– ” Rhett offered, “Move it outta the way?”

Link shook his head. “S’fine.”

Link brushed past Rhett’s cock, barely registered it touching his forearm, slipping under his balls the same way he would with his own if he was going to rub his own taint. He was focused, but he jerked his hand away for a second when he made contact with damp, cold skin.

“Dang, Rhett, you are cold.”

“I told ya.”

“What’ve you been doin’ sittin’ here with your hand down your britches?”

“Tryin’ to warm up”

“Tryin’ and failin’ more like,” Link muttered.

They tended to get a little more Southern in those moments, murmuring softly to each other. But they’d never done that, never been that close, with Link’s hand there, and Link settled his fingertips on the skin between Rhett’s balls and butt.

Rhett let out a breathy sigh of relief. “Your hands are warm.”

“Well yeah, dummy,” Link said quietly. “You should’a asked me to do this earlier”

They were quiet as Link rubbed him a bit, like a test at first, trying to bring warmth to the cold skin

“Does it burn?”

Rhett was distracted and it took him a moment to reply. “Burn?”

“Yeah, as it’s warmin’ up?”

“Oh, nah, not yet.”

Link was careful with his fingers, but with every few swipes he slipped a little too far back and Rhett jumped.

“Watch my–” he laughed nervously. “Watch my butthole.”

Link huffed out a laugh. “Your butthole?”

“Yeah!”

“I ain’t gonna finger your butthole if that’s what you’re worryin’ about.”

“I’m not worryin’,” Rhett said, because he wasn’t. That wasn’t what he meant.

They stayed quiet for another moment, as if they were both thinking.

“Is it cold though?” Link murmured.

“Yeah.”

“You want me to.. like,” Link slipped his hand back a little further and ghosted over Rhett’s ass. His cheeks were ice cold and Link chuckled softly. “Freezin’ here too, bo.”

“That’s what I told ya,” Rhett mumbled. “But you don’t have to..”

“You want me to though?”

Rhett paused before answering with a soft, “Yeah.”

Link rubbed gently, slow enough that he wouldn’t irritate Rhett’s frozen and overly-sensitive skin, but fast enough to bring warmth to the area. The base of his palm bumped against Rhett’s balls, his forearm sliding against Rhett’s cock, and Link didn’t say a word as Rhett grew hard against him. They both knew it was natural. Friction could do that.

“Dick’s warm,” Rhett muttered, trying to bring humor to the situation.

Link nodded, “I know.”

Rhett glanced down between them. “Is it buggin’ you? I can hold it up.”

“S’fine,” Link reiterated. “Ain’t botherin’ me none.”

And it wasn’t bothering him. It was just another thing. Cool butt, cold taint, warming balls, hot hard dick. It was fine.

Link slowed the rubbing, trying to change it up a bit as he pressed his fingers against Rhett’s taint.

“Pressin’ your button,” he murmured.

“What?” Rhett huffed out.

Link pushed in again and then started massaging in slow circles. “The evac button.”

“Oh,” Rhett breathed, “right..”

And then Link felt it.

Rhett’s dick was leaking slick and wet on his arm.

And in theory it should’ve bothered him, but it didn’t. At all.

“Feel good?” Link found himself asking.

And Rhett surprised himself by admitting, “real good..”

Link nodded and continued his kneading, his palm tapping against Rhett’s balls until Link just went for it and cupped them. They were soft, almost velvety, not much different than his own, and he held them the way he held himself, knowing what he liked and figuring Rhett might like it too.

“You’re warmin’ up,” Link breathed, as if the cold was even still a concern at that point, when he was actively playing with his best friend’s ballsack and massaging his taint.

Rhett just panted, actually panted, in reply and slid in the slick that now coated Link’s arm.

“You want me to stop?” Link asked, knowing it was probably a stupid question, and honestly hoping Rhett wouldn’t want him to.

“No,” Rhett huffed out a laugh, because that was the last thing he wanted, “god, don’t.”

So they were doing this, and it was fine. Just another thing.

Except it wasn’t just another thing. It was a big thing. Rhett was rubbing his dick on Link’s arm, and Link was pretty sure he was going to help him cum, and it somehow made sense, and then Rhett was tensing, and Link found he needed to watch him.

He wanted to see Rhett cum.

He’d heard it before – their college dorm room was small, and Link was good at feigning sleep. But he’d never seen Rhett’s face in those moments.

And here they were, and Link was helping to make it happen, wanting to make it happen, wanting to see it happen. He rubbed the now-warm skin, slipping his fingers back to ghost over Rhett’s ass again and he recognized the sharp inhale of breath as Rhett came and spurted wet heat over Link’s forearm.

Rhett was cumming in his boxers, all over Link’s arm and hand, and it was only then that Link really registered that he was hard too, and okay, this was something new. Something they’d probably need to explore further.

But currently, Rhett was looking down, his hair falling into his eyes as he chuckled softly, embarrassed.

Link knew further exploration would have to wait. But he was determined that it would happen. He eased his arm out of Rhett’s jeans, and turned it over, examining the mess Rhett had made on it.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he said, grinning, “and arm.”

Rhett watched him go, speaking up just as Link reached the door. “We gotta tell the writers they can never go colder than frozen corn.”

Link stopped and looked back at him. “Nah, we can go colder.”

“Link,” Rhett gave him a crazed look, “I’ll lose everything next time, dick and all.”

“You’ll be alright.”

“Your hand ain’t that warm, man.”

“That’s true,” Link replied, shooting Rhett another grin as he slipped out the door, and Rhett could hear his voice echoing down the hallway, “but I got a hot mouth!”

#rhink #fic #rhink fic #my fic #frozen taint #i apologize for the formatting #tumblr hates when i post from my laptop

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cyberrat · 2 years

Text

55th Batch Of Fics: 11th Fill

Bruce/Jason – stuck in a wall; consensual (?) non consent; blood; virgin Bruce and Jason – Jason is an opportunist.

---

It takes Jason a while to finally unearth Bruce from the rubble, and even then he hasn’t yet really freed him at all. It’s this exact scenario why he hates working with other people; they get into messes that Jason has to help them out of.

Granted, Bruce usually doesn’t get himself trapped like this but well… He seems out of it, in any case. He doesn’t react for the longest time, just lying ass up and legs akimbo like a slut. It’s only made difficult by the fact that Jason can’t see his face and whether or not he is even lucid at the moment.

So he sits his ass down on a large rock and catches his breath while staring at Bruce’s behind and how he looks like a whore the way he is trapped right now. It’s… really hot. Really pretty hot. Hot like all the fantasies Jason’s ever had.

Hot enough to make him briefly glance around to make sure they’re alone – of course they fucking are – to shuffle forward and cop a feel, first of Bruce’s tight ass, then of his junk.

He can’t believe that he isn’t really wearing any protection there. It’s only the integrated shield of his suit to give him maximum mobility… and in Jason’s opinion it is just so he can slut it out on the streets.

There are a few tears in the material here and there. It’s not difficult at all to hook his finger into one of those gaping holes and jerk on it to rip it open wide and expose Batman’s ass to the cool night air.

His cheeks are spread enough to let Jason get a look at his peach pink hole. It looks so untouched, he wouldn’t be surprised to know he is an anal virgin. It would kind of fit the whole vibe that Bruce got going on. He probably would hate someone touching his little butthole…

All the more reason for Jason to do it. His heart is pounding so fast he can feel it in his throat. He’s seen many, many, many porn videos with just this kind of fucked up plot and he is there for it all the way.

Especially when Bruce starts to move his legs slowly, probably finally pulled out of his stupor by the feeling of cool night air brushing behind his balls and through his ass crack.

Jason would make sure to get him nice and warm again, though. He shuffles close behind him, kneeling between his sluttily spread legs and stretching his cheeks farther apart to stare at his pink opening. He doesn’t have any lube with him. He didn’t think he’d get the opportunity to get to do anything of the sorts.

Would spit be enough? He had no clue. He’s never done this before… He spits on Bruce’s hole and hears his indistinct protest. His deep voice is grumbling on the other side of the rubble, hips trying to twist away, especially when Jason begins to massage the tight clench of his pussy in a bid to make it loosen up for him.

However, he is stuck too tightly in his predicament and Jason is not letting him get anywhere anytime soon. His cock is swollen. He wants to… he wants to fuck, and Bruce is right there, offered up on a silver platter with his virgin hole exposed for all the world to see.

It’s easy picking.

So Jason does it.

He slaps his dick a few times against Bruce’s hole just as he’s seen the studs in the porn videos do, then he holds it still and closes his eyes to focus on the sensation of pushing it inside.

There is not enough slick there to make the entry easy… but Jason is determined and Bruce can’t do a single thing to defend himself.

So he pushes in. It’s not as easy as it always looks in porn; it’s not that he can just push into Bruce’s intestines in one fell swoop. Instead it is a slow process of his painfully hard cock forcing the tight virgin muscle to spread more and more until he somehow manages to squeeze his tip inside him.

At this point, Jason has to pause and just breathe because the heat and tightness around his dick feels like nothing he’s ever felt. Certainly not like his hand when he rabbit humps it at night.

The friction sure has been a bit painful on his own dick… but apparently nothing like what Bruce is feeling, if his cries of distressed anger are anything to go by. They are muffled enough by the rubble that it is worryingly easy to just… ignore them and push in further.

Oops, halfway in already.

Jason can watch in real time as Bruce’s virgin rim flushes a dark ruddy red, working around him and trying to force him back out to no avail.

He starts in on little fucking motion; inexpert thrusts of his hips. Damn, that whole thing looks a lot easier when they do it in porn… but it is just so much fun!

It becomes even more so when the sensitive skin of Bruce’s anus breaks and his blood slicks the way.

The scent is not… thick, per se but it is persistent enough to stick to his nostrils and make his blood boil again. They’re not in a fight anymore, but the scent of copper always does this to him. It gets him nice and riled up – ready for some carnage, even though he tries so hard to stick to the shadows most of the time, much like Bruce does.

Bruce who has stopped screaming all angry and has changed his tune quite a bit.

If Jason didn’t know better he would say that he could hear him mewling even, his legs stopping their struggle to try and kick at him in favor of just staying still and letting himself get mounted and fucked by a – for Bruce, anyway – total stranger.

Well that gave him a nice idea, though… he could at least get out of the undoubtedly tedious aftermath if he just pretended that he hadn’t found Bruce until now; not until he’s been good and used, his hole opened up by some dick and fucked into a bloody, cummy mess.

Maybe that would even allow him into getting another sneaky fuck out of Bruce if he played his cards right and pretended to really really care for him.

It isn’t easy to keep scheming when his balls are starting to ache with an oncoming orgasm. His jerky thrusts have become smoother, allowing him to lean over the small of Bruce’s back and brace himself on the rubble cinching in his waist with one hand while he gives it to him nice and deep. It feels really better with some slick to ease the way… It makes it all feel silky and hot and like his insides are going to burn up if he can’t come soon.

It’s a good thing that nobody is here to tell him that he can’t come yet; that he is premature or whatever.

He can just lean his head back and grunt low and throaty as he starts to pump the helpless no-longer-virgin full of his cream, eyes rolling into his skull and the tips of his fingers tingling.

Maybe… maybe he should wait… get another round out… and another… just a few more so he will be satisfied before he frees Batman out of his stupid little predicament.

#cyberratting writes stuff #bruce/jason #blood #stuck in a wall

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darkmulti · 4 years

Text

12:39

BTS

Vampire! Taehyung & Jungkook x human!female reader

Genre: explicit smut

Word Count: 1.7K

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A/N: Here’s a little time stamp before I log out😔 This was suppose to be a five hundred word time stamp, but I kinda got carried away👉👈

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⚠️Warnings: rough sex, cum eating, breeding kink, choking, manipulation, biting, squirting, bits of degradation, bits of praising, blowjob, cum play, dacryphilia kink, double penetration, anal, spitting/licking, overstimulation, orgasm, probably missed something

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“Jungkook! Please go faster!” Y/N moans and throws her head back, clenching around the vampire's cock. The other vampire, Taehyung, sat on the chair with his wine glass in hand, stroking himself. “That’s not my name princess.” Jungkook slaps her ass, thrusting a bit harder. “Ah- daddy! I’m so sorry daddy! Please go faster! Please!” The man behind her pushed her face against the wall, then wrapped his veiny arm around her neck. “My little princess is enjoying this, isn’t she? Doesn’t it feel amazing?”

“Daddy, y-your cock is the best cock! P-please cum in me! Please, I-I need your thick, sweet cum in me!” She chokes out, enjoying every inch of Jungkook’s monster cock. “Taehyung!” Jungkook calls out. “Would you like to join us?” Taehyung clears his throat and gets up. He takes one more sip of the wine, before putting it down and spitting on all cock. “Get on the bed on all fours.” Jungkook lets her go and she quickly crawls onto the bed, waiting for her masters. She wasn’t allowed to make eye contact with them, so she kept her head low, but still eyed their beautiful cocks.

“Play with yourself, little one” she looks up at Taehyung, confused. “B-but you said to never touch myself. I-I don’t want to get in trouble.” She says innocently. “I’m telling you now. You listen to me and me only, understand little girl?” Taehyung gets in front of her face and pulls her hair back, so she could look at him. “You know daddy hates to repeat himself.” Taehyung flashes his fangs and sends a sadistic smile to her. “I-I’m sorry daddy, I understand!” While making eye contact with Taehyung, she shoved two fingers inside of herself. The vampire standing in front of her slapped her face with his cock a few times. “Thrust your fingers a little faster princess.” She moves her fingers faster and Taehyung slaps her cheek with his cock again.

“Open your mouth, little princess.” Y/N opens her mouth, taking in Tae’s fat tip. Taehyung fondles with her hair, gently pushing it back, out of her face, while thrusting his cock in and out. Oh boy- Jungkook could’ve came just by sight. She brushes her teeth against his tip and her tongue swirls all around. Her saliva soaked Taehyung’s cock, which made him chuckle. “You want daddy to cum down your throat, princess? Keep fucking doing that!” He throws his head back, showing off his Adam's apple. The older vampire starts thrusting a little faster, making the girl gag and tear up.

She chokes around his cock and curls her fingers inside her, clenching around them. Jungkook comes in from behind, with one hand stroking his cock, his other hand removes her fingers out of her warm, wet pussy and he shoves in his own. The younger vampire imagined his fingers as his cock. Therefore, he recklessly started thrusting them, whilst the human chokes around the older’s cock. She was the first to cum, causing her to moan around Taehyung’s cock, sending vibrations around it. Taehyung lets out a low moan, which the girl was a sucker (literally) for. She sucked harder, wanting Taehyung to cum down her throat. Y/N craved his cum. It was an addiction.

Soon, she got what she wanted when Taehyung finally cummed in her mouth and she gulped it all down just like water, except it was thick and sweet. She smiles and looks at Taehyung while drinking all of it like a good princess. Jungkook behind her was burning with jealousy. The amount of affection Taehyung had received from her, made his blood boil. “Remember little girl..” he slaps her ass then spits into her little asshole. “You have TWO daddies.” He lays another spank on her sore ass. “I-I remember daddy.” She quickly turns around and sits on his dick, kissing him deeply. Jungkook sets both of his hands on her hot ass cheek while she bounced on his cock. The younger vampire pulls away and bites into her neck, sucking a bit of blood out. “Ahh- daddy! N-not too hard. It kinda hurts.” She rests her jaw on his shoulder and Taehyung sits on the bed, pulling her away. “My turn.”

He lays her down and kisses her, while sliding his cock right in. “You want me to fuck my babies into you?” She excitedly nods her head, ‘yes’ and wraps her legs around Taehyung’s waist, wanting to take his whole, hard, fat cock. “Please please please! Shove it in me and call me your little whore, daddy”

“Oh, my little whore likes it rough?” Taehyung's hand lands on her neck and applies pressure, as he pounds his rock hard cock into her, making her scream. He didn’t think twice before pounding her at an inhumane speed, while choking her harder. He spits down on her pussy and keeps going harder into her. “You little bitch. You love this. Dirty cunt, all you want to do is be pounded by us.” Jungkook quickly gets on top of her face and shoves his cock far down her throat, demanding her to play with his balls. “Suck! Suck you little whore! This is what you waited for! You love it when your daddies fuck you rough and raw right?”

She hums around his cock, rolling her eyes back. Her pussy throbbed around Taehyung’s cock, which was somehow managing to go even faster. Both of the males start grunting and growling, until Jungkook gives in, cumming deep down her throat. He takes himself out and spits into her mouth, then slaps her. “You like that? You like me slapping your dirty, whore face?”

“Yes! I love it daddy!” Jungkook smiles and gets off of her. Y/N walls squeezed his cock, and before she knew it, her body gave in and squirted around the man. “Owwiee- slow down daddy! I-it’s stinging!” She cries out, moaning a lot louder. “You did this to yourself whore! You wanted me to be rough!”

She arches her back, tempting Jungkook to slap her tits, which he ended up giving into. He viciously sucks on her nipples and bites down on them a couple of times, just to hear her scream. “Please! I’m gonna cum again!” “Then do it! Cum for me slut, cum for your daddies?” Hot tears ran down her cheeks as her lower abdomen tightly shuts and she forcefully pushed her cum out of her. Taehyung’s seeds shoot deep inside of her, making her pussy more wet, and warm.

“Get on your side.” Taehyung fangs appear, scaring the girl and she immediately gets on her side and waits. They start speaking in another language and at the same time, look down at the girl, indicating that they were talking about her. “D-did I do something wrong?” She asks. “You’ve been ignoring Jungkook.”

“No I haven’t!” She slaps her hand over her mouth and apologizes. “I mean, I’m sorry daddy! I-I really didn’t mean to ignore you. Will you forgive me?” Jungkook gets behind her and lays down. “Depends, what will you do for me?” The younger male hints and brushes his cock on her butthole. She gasped, knowing what he wanted. “U-um, I’m not sure.” Before she could finish her sentence, Jungkook cut her off.

“Are you saying no to me? To your daddy?” She remains quiet and still under him. “Cat got your tongue? Did it just hit you that I own you?” He holds both of her arms back and slowly pushes his cock in her asshole, making her cry. She leans forward, hoping Taehyung would help, but he didn’t. Instead he also laid down in front of her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and slammed into her pussy. “I-It hurts!” Taehyung hushes her and holds her tighter, “this is gonna hurt.” Jungkook pulls her back into his embrace and goes off on her ass while holding her down.

Shocked, Y/N didn't scream immediately, but when she felt that stretch in her hole, she started to wail. Jungkook puts his arm around her neck, stopping her from crying. “If you really love your daddies, you’ll shut up and take it! You wanted us to be rough, you got it. Now take it because there's no going back!” Jungkook whispers in her ear behind her, grunting at times. “So fucking tight! I can feel Taehyung’s cock in you!”

They let the girl bawl her eyes out underneath them until she finally got used to it. She pokes her head out and opens her eyes. They see Taehyung’s eyes right away and he smiles. “Does it feel better now?”

“Y-yes” her tears were constant and uncontrollable. The overstimulation and sting in her core, ass and lips was making her cry. The two men didn’t slow down, ‘helping’ her situation more. The skin slapping was incredibly loud and it turned both of the vampires on too. Jungkook takes his cock out of her ass and pushes it with Taehyung’s cock. His cock forced it’s way inside her pussy, slowing down Taehyung because of the tightless. Y/N screams and cries into her pillow but doesn’t tell them to stop, because they’ll get mad at her. She claws Taehyung’s back, losing feeling in every limb.

The two men don’t mutter a word and continue doing it. Jungkook saw her distressed state and took it out. He slammed back into her ass and she mentally thanked him. “I’m gonna cum again!” She whispers out, weakly. “WAIT!” They both growl and pant, going even harder into her, chasing after their high. “I can’t daddy! I truly can’t!” She whimpers. “Okay, okay cum now! Cum now princess.” Jungkook hissed behind her.

Jungkook and Taehyung flooded her insides with cum, while she trembled under the two. She cums around Taehyung but she didn't stop there because suddenly, she felt a wave push throughout her body, releasing every muscle. Her legs shook for a couple minutes as she tried to catch her breath. Her tears stopped and the two vampires watched her have her first orgasm.

She finally blinks and Jungkook hugs her tiny body. He starts kissing and praising her for taking them so well. Taehyung then snatched her onto his chest and kissed her lips. “You did such a good job, little one. Daddy’s so proud of you.” Jungkook wraps his arms around her and pulls her back into his embrace and Taehyung lays on his side, facing her. The two vampires wait for her to fall asleep, then close their eyes after.

That’s what happens after 12:39

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Not edited like always😙

Xoxo, N❣️

#taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts #v smut #jungguk x reader #jeon jungkook #kim taehyung #taehyung #jungkook #taehyung x reader #bts x reader #nicki minaj #you can call me artist #you can call me idol

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

Note

Maybe the steves asshole AU but from Steve's end? Like maybe he fingered himself once cuz curiosity and bought things since? And because Billy is sweet and amazing and maybe Steve was worried about being too kinky with him but then Billy walks in with Steve having like a huge set of anal beads or something else shoved all up in *the asshole of the universe* and Billy just wrecks him and has him keep cuming until he admits why he hid it from him? And then they make their deal?

bringing back the steve’s butthole au lmao

pretty hard smut.

Every time Steve and Billy have sex, it’s slow, and sweet, and vanilla, and nice. And Steve really likes the way Billy fucks him, likes how he makes Steve feel and take his time, and really work Steve’s body.

But that’s not totally what Steve wants from his sex life.

He wants to be humiliated and fucked rough and stretched open so wide it almost hurts.

And Steve doesn’t wanna, like, scare him off or something, so he kept the toys and the fantasies for himself, for his alone time.

He currently was enjoying said alone time, sprawled out naked on his bed, stuffed completely full.

He sighed as he tugged on the ring at the end of the anal beads.

“Hey, Stevie!” Steve tried to sit up, the silicon beads moving inside of him, pressing against his prostate and making him gasp, slam himself back down onto the bed.

He tried to cover himself with the duvet, had just managed to when Billy let himself into his bedroom.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Just taking a nap.” Steve’s voice was all breathy, made Billy furrow his brows.

“You okay?”

“Super good.” Billy got a little glint in his eye.

“Were you masturbating? You dirty boy.” Billy was toying with the edge of the blanket. “Lemme watch.

“I, um-”

“No, it’ll be hot, c’mon.”

And then he pulled down the blanket.

“Oh, you were like, really goin’ in.” Steve tried to close his legs, tried to hide the end of the beads, but Billy pressed his thighs apart, and began toying with it, and began to slowly pull it out.

Steve arched his back, moaning loudly as the final ball began stretching him open.

Billy’s eyes were wide as the black bead came into view, absolutely splitting Steve open.

It was at probably four inches in diameter.

“Oh my God.” Steve was breathing heavily. “How many are there?”

“Ten.”

“Fuck.” Billy was painfully hard as he began to tug out the next ball. “This is so hot.” He was watching Steve writhe about, staring at him darkly. “Look at your tight little hole, stretching open for your big, slutty toy.”

He watched as Steve’s cock fucking twitched.

“Yeah? You like that?”

“Yeah. Love when you talk about my hole like that.” Billy was working the next bead out of him. They were getting progressively smaller, but still stretching him wide.

“Can’t wait til I get these all outta you, wanna see that little slut hole all lose and open for me.”

“Fuck, yeah. Just for you.” He had pulled five of the beads of him now. He moved a little faster, liked how breathless Steve got when he was being opened.

Once the toy was out of him, Billy pressed his knees into his chest, spreading his cheeks to look.

“Look how gorgeous. Absolutely gaping.” He pushed three fingers into Steve, sliding them in easy. “Think you can take my whole hand?”

“I don’t-” Steve gasped as Billy pushed in a fourth finger.

“Yeah, you can.”

Steve’s eyes were all big and watery as he looked at Billy, holding his knees to his chest.

“Okay.”

Billy smiled at him, pressing a kiss to the inside of his thigh.

He pulled his fingers out, grabbing the half-empty bottle of lube next to Steve.

He coated his fingers, his whole hand.

Four fingers went in no problem, and Steve shuddered as Billy began pressing in the knuckles of his hand.

“Just fucking swallowing me up. Greedy bitch.” Steve sobbed around a moan. “You love this, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I love it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you want this?” Steve shook his head, his eyes scrunched closed. “No? You’re not gonna tell me?” Steve shook his head again.

So Billy pushed forward, tucking his thumb against his palm, pressing his hand inside Steve.

“Fuck!” Steve’s hips bucked, his back arching off the bed.

He came so hard he had spunk on his nose.

He was tight around Billy’s hand, crying out.

He slumped back after what felt like a minute, breathing hard.

“Beautiful.” Billy was keeping his hand still, just watching Steve. “So, now you gonna tell me?” Steve shook his head again. “Then you asked for this.”

Billy surged his hand forward, pushing inside Steve to the wrist.

“Billy! I’m, wait!” His eyes flew open, his body going tight.

“Tell me why you didn’t want me to do this, and I’ll make it stop.” He was fucking his fist in and out of Steve.

“Billy, it’s, it’s too much.”

“Nah. This hole can take it.”

“I, I can’t.”

“But this hole, isn’t yours. You don’t get to say what’s too much.”

“But-” Steve was pouting at Billy, his bottom lip trembling.

“No. This is my hole. It belongs to me.” He thrust his fist in a little harder, made Steve’s sore cock give a weak kick, made him sob. “I can do what I want to it.”

“Yes! It, I, belong to you!”

And Billy watched as Steve came again.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so fucking hot. Just love watching you fall apart.”

Steve was goo, laying boneless against the bed.

“Billy, it’s too much.”

“You can make it stop,” Billy sang at him, “if you just tell me why.”

Steve’s lip trembled.

“Didn’t want you to think I was a freak!” Billy stopped moving his hand.

“You think I would?” Steve shrugged.

“It’s kinda, it’s kind of a lot, like, what I’m into.”

“Baby, I’ve got my whole hand inside of you.” Steve flushed.

“Yeah, I guess you’ve got a point.”

“Uh, yeah.”

#god bless steves butthole #yikes writes #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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goodnightallwhites · 4 years

Text

Your Life in the Black Ruled World By BlackingPacking

Your Life in the Black Ruled World

By BlackingPacking

Submitted: July 24, 2019 Updated: January 7, 2020

You're a young whiteboy in a world ruled by BBC, doing normal things in life- hanging out with your friends, crushing on girls, gossiping, fantasizing a little too much about your sisters, and jerking off your tiny dick to all the women in your life getting fucked my hung black studs.

Contains: BBC, SPH, cucking, dubleg, strong racial content, incest. DO NOT READ unless you have a blacked fetish.

Provided by Hentai Foundry.

Chapter 1 - Wake Up 2

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby 5

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral 8

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary... 13

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie 16

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny 20

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily 26

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie 31

Chapter 9 - Brunch 36

Chapter 1 - Wake Up

You wake up at around one p.m.- a minor inconvenience, as school won’t start for another few days. Besides, sleeping early was a result of an intense day of white dicklet-jerking, and you’ve spent tons of time jerking your little thing off- a medically recommended 8 cums a day, in order to reduce stress for white boys. Of course, it was hard for your little peanut-sized balls to actually muster up that much sperm, but they manage,

You could hear a mattress banging from your parent’s room- well, your mom’s, since your dad was living in the city full-time, working his ass off for your mom as a good white husband should- with your mom screaming from the good morning fuck her bull, a 55 year-old pro with an 18 incher fit for his dad bod- Damarcus. Your first orgasm of the day was often this, jerking your dick, under 1/8th the size of his.

“A shit! My fucking shitter! It’s so fucking streeeeetched!” She cried, clearly doing anal, which she wasn’t as good at as plenty of other girls, including your sisters.

In about 30 seconds, you came, shooting a few pathetic drops onto your marble-sized balls. You blushed as you hear your mom getting anally destroyed in the next room while your white babydick went flaccid again.

“Fuck baby! Fuck I’m cumming! Ah! Ah. Yes! I’m cumming with your big fucking nigger dick up my poopchute!”

You hear a loud smack as Damarcus slaps her fat white ass as he pounded it from underneath, mighty balls probably swinging wildly.

“Fuck baby, yeah, yeah, gimme another load of your black cum! Awwww yes right up my pooper! Shit there’s so much mmmm,” your mom, despite being 47 years old, is a grade-A slut, who not only had produced 7 snowbunny daughters (and, sadly, you), But is also involved in the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association, organizing dates and orgies for all the women in the neighborhood.

You hear the bed creak as your mom fell on it, exhausted from what was probably hours of sex from godly black cock. You leave the room, still nude, and nervously move your little hairless white body to the door to listen closer. Your smooth, nubby little penis gets hard again.

“Damarcus..” your mom says, “go wake up my useless little bitch of a son so he can clean me up!”

Your little two-incher stands at attention and you nervously push open the door to see your overweight, exhausted redhead mom on the bed while the tall, hairy piece of meat beside her was standing.

“Bitch boy!” Your mom calls you, breathing heavily on her back, “clean me the fuck up!” She demands.

“Clean me too, Gail,” Damarcus commands, shoving his fat, long cock in her face for her to suck all the juices off. Your mom does it wish a smile, loving her taste mixed with black cum.

She always spent hours every morning getting fucked by his big dick, and it showed in the mess of a cream pie, if it could even be called that, spilling out what looked like gallons of thick cum from her pussy and asshole, pouring onto the bed in a hot mess.

“Moooooom,” you whine, “how do I eat all this? It’s not even a cream pie it’s like- like- a cream feast!”

Your mom just laughs, “cream feast? I like it! Now eat it all, you little wimp. Eat mommy’s fucking creamfeast.”

You whine as you climb on the bed and kneel between your moms legs, holding onto her chubby, sweaty thighs for balance as you bent down to suck up the piles of cum that covered her.

It tasted strong and virile, thick and sweet unlike your salty, watery little virgin cums. You sucked up her pussy pie first, wetly cleaning it like a good little beta boy until her puss was bare again. You want to fuck it, to even touch it, but you couldn’t, and even if you could, her pussy was so stretched that her hole was wider than your dicklet was long. Even licking her clit did little besides earn you a smack on the head. She didn’t want any pleasure from her pathetic little son.

Next was her anal cream, an equally sticky mess flowing from her abused asshole. You ate it like candy, sucking and slurping the mix of pussy juice, anal lube, and black cum. It tasted like her butthole, sweet and warm, perfect for a superior man to fuck for ages. Her ass was stretched too, a huge gaping hole in place of her tight pucker. You couldn’t eat her ass like this, but you could scoop the cum out of it.

“I’m done, mom,” you mutter, precum leaking in a thin, weak strand from your short dick.

“Good little whiteboy,” she replied, feeling her now clean, still wet pussy and asshole, giggling as she pleasures herself. “How many times have you cum today?” She said and beckoned you closer as she gave Damarcus one last sloppy kiss on his cock.

You climb over her chubby, but still hourglass-shaped body, “only once mommy.” You mutter.

“Puny dick can’t even cum right. Are you horny? Is that pink little worm hard?”

Almost 2.5 inches bone pressed erect, it sure didn’t look like much in comparison to what she just had.

“Yes... I’m precumming. See it?”

Your mom snorts, yeah, I do. Looks like a spider web. Aren’t you supposed to be above average for a white boy? I bet Damarcus’precum is stronger than your real nut.”

“I-it is.”

“You know it’s been a whole since I last looked at it.... Is it ever gonna grow hair? Or will you just have a babydick forever?”

“Mom... you know I’m white.”

“I know, but there are some whiteboys who have a bit of pubes, or fuzzy balls. You’re just pathetic,” she poked at your ballsack, “and what’s this? A little round lump under your pointy little dick? How tiny are your balls?”

“White boys don’t drop...”

“Sweetie- you’re an idiot. I’m just teasing you! God, white boys are dumb. Of course you’ll never measure up. Your dicks the size of a toe, your balls are so small it doesn’t even look like you have two. Isn’t that funny?”

“I don’t know.. it makes me feel bad.” You complain.

She slaps your little balls, “little bitchboy! You’re supposed to feel bad. Whiteboys don’t get to be happy about their tiny dicks. I love you as a son, but you’re still a fucking loser, got it, microdick?”

“Yes ma’am.."

“Good,” she gives your tight little nutsack a small squeeze before getting up, letting you Marvel at her full, voluptuous, motherly beauty- her ass and tits were round and huge, her belly was full from eating black cum everyday, and her legs were still long and nimble enough to lock around a bull during orgasm.

You were shorter, smaller, skinnier than her, your hair more brown than her hot red bob. You clearly took after your father, a chubby white wimp who your mother loved very dearly, but still loved black men more.

She strutted out of room, butt naked, waving you over, “come on beta boy, bust your little nut then come serve us breakfast.”

Chapter 2 - Good Morning Abby

You hobble into your room and sat on your small bed, squeezing your tiny little lump of a dicklet with two thin fingers. You poke its tip and rub it like a clit, which it was barely bigger than. You knew, at least, that it was above average for a white dick- it was slightly longer than it was wide, and your skinny, weak body meant it could stick out farther. It even got rock hard.

Maybe that was why your mom would harass you so- the hormonal and genetic therapy given to white women, designed for them to have girls almost 80% of the time and for any men to be born exceptionally weak, must not have worked with you. Probably because you were one of two twins, the other being Jenny, of course, who soaked up all the femininity. That didn’t explain why your cocklet couldn’t grow hair. Maybe you were just a mistake. Granted, most white boys were hairless anyways.

Probably, after all, since your mom hadn’t had sex with your dad since you were born, as a punishment for bringing in another white boy into the world. And poor Jenny, having to spend 9 months together with a white boy. She was even bullied at school for it.

You let out a high-pitched whine as you think about how pathetic you are. Nothing gets your teenie weenie going like that. You feel your tiny little nuts tremble as another orgasm comes closer, so you grab a tissue and put it underneath your puny penis. You cum. It’s only one watery drop.

You toss it into your full trash can and walk out of your room. Your sisters hallway and your moms bedroom smelled like sweat and cum. The only time you would sweat was when running or when trying to hold in your ejaculation for over two minutes, and it always smelled more like the girls than the black guys’.

Your house was large and spacious, thanks to how hard your dad worked downtown, not to mention the bonuses your mom got from being a neighborhood organizer. Every woman you knew loved your moms taste in community Bulls.

At the end of the hallway is the curved staircase, down to the open-concept ground floor, which, like the rest of the house, has a soft white and pink palette. As always, you don’t give a second thought about walking around downstairs totally naked. Everyone did so, with women being proud of their beauty, black men of their masculinity, and with white boys having nothing to hide from their superiors.

You hop down the stairs, enjoying the bounce of your body down each step, soft skin jiggling slightly, and your tiny, flaccid baby dick bouncing upon your soft, round balls. Your feet eventually touch the cold marble floor, your chilly skin makes your pink little worm only shrivel up more.

You ignore it, enjoying the feeling of tight, compact smallness as you walk into the kitchen to pop your sister’s food into the microwave. Already there, is Max, the husband of your oldest sister, Abby. Max had a pretty, angular face with round glasses and dirty blond hair that was as stringy as his body, and a small, pointy little penis to match. Abby thought Mac was adorable, but absolutely pathetic as well, often mocking him in front of the whole family. Wimpy little guy couldn’t even afford a house, which is why he

lived with you. Abby, surely, was upstairs with her bull, Julius.

You ask if Max knows how many will come to breakfast, but he only knew his wife and bull would come. Dammit- now you’ll have to go all the way back upstairs to get your sisters up. Max just goes back to scrolling through his friends posts on Snowgram. As with most Snowgram posts, it was girls enjoying the snowbunny lifestyle.

You sigh and walk back upstairs, cold little nub of your dickie getting slightly harder as you smell the sweet aroma of interracial lust, a warmth filling your pathetic little manhood.

First, all the way down the hall, was Abigail and Julius. Technically this was Max’s room too, but you didn’t pay enough attention to your oldest sister’s life to know. You two were never close after all- she was nearly a decade older than you, in her mid twenties now, and as long as you could remember she’d be paying attention to nothing but black guys.

Julius was actually the bull who took Abby’s virginity back when they were in middle school, though they had only been back in contact for a few months, since a bit after she was married. Now he practically lived in the house, and Abby sure was happy to parade around his lean, toned body. He may have been ever so slightly shorter than Max, but he packed a proper BBC, thick and veiny and bulging like a balloon, it’s fat middle looking like the base couldn't hold it up. It sure could inside your sister though. What a whore she was- she’d even let Max fuck her every night. Said she wanted to see who’d get her pregnant first.

You were hot- thinking about your sister so distractedly this afternoon, your dick had gotten hard. A cylinder the size of a pillbug, a single little drop of precum leaking. You’re sure they wouldn’t notice.

Ear against the door, hearing nothing, you let yourself in. On the bed is only Abby, laying and sucking on her fingers, creampie dripping from her pink, used pussy.

“Oh. It’s you,” she says, “you staring, creep? Getting a little stiffie? God,” she sighs as she gets out of bed and stretches. A fat glob of cum slides down from her pussy, hanging for an instant before falling down with a splat. Your penis twitches.

“I-it’s time for breakfast,” you mutter, in awe of your sisters tall, blonde body. She looks like your mom in her younger days, only with blonde hair instead of red, a perfect receptacle for BBC.

“I know. Julius will be coming too. He’s in the bathroom- you can sneak a peak if you want to,” she teases. “Oh, and clean that up.” She goes to stand in front of a mirror, spreading her pure white ass cheeks to show her cum-filled hole, fondling her big bouncy tits, patting her exhausted abs. Abby liked to experiment with positions. She was more muscular before the started eating mom’s cooking again.

You meanwhile just had to make sure that she never noticed all the glances at her you stole as you cleaned up Julius’ thick cum. It really was a day like any other.

After you threw the tissues away, Abby pinches her clit and waves it at you. Even rock hard, you still don’t look much bigger than a clit. If only you could suck that..

Smack

Your butt stung- Abby smacked you! It didn’t hurt much, but it’s embarrassing. You clearly didn’t catch her at a good time, and she was taking her anger out on you, spanking your pale white ass and teasing your tiny dick.

“Not a penis,” she whispered at you, Queen of Spades necklace hanging between her perfect, tanned tits as she disappeared into the bathroom. You figured it was time to go too.

Then you see her phone. It was just lying open on the bed, probably holding all the pictures from her fuck sessions. You just couldn’t resist.

Upon opening it, you’re far from disappointed. His huge dick, Max’s tiny one, all over her naked body. At least a dozen pictures were taken a day- her being fucked in every hole, her mocking Max, her eating her thick creampie. It was a goldmine for a dirty little white cuckold like yourself. With two fingers, you stroked the smooth little hard on as you watch a video of Julius cumming in a glass and Abby bottoms upping it. She did this a few times over the weeks, pouring some on her body, over her pussy, or just to rub into her skin. A few pictures showed Julius cumming on a dress she later wore on a date with Max.

She’d gag on his massive cock with an outstretched arm to film, winking at the camera whenever she wasn’t choking on his length. She’d take it out and let it slap her face, the long, dark, dripping wet rod dwarfing her head.

And her ass- you could never forget your sister’s ass. She’s slimmer than your mom by far, but just made her round, soft ass all the hotter. Julius clearly loved it, eating it out in several pictures. They were taken by him. A video showed why; Abby couldn’t control herself. The pleasure of a black man’s skilled tongue in her sensitive pink asshole made her lips quiver and her eyes roll back in her head. A few other videos show him trying to fuck her ass, keyword trying. He could fit the head in before she started screaming and crying, begging him to either stop or go further. As big as her ass was, her hole wasn’t up to the challenge. All for the better, of course- she wanted him to knock her up. Based on how many creampies she got, he probably already had.

Your furious masturbation let go after barely a minute. You hobble over to cum in the same bin you threw away the tissues, but your ejactulation was less impressive by far, its thin little strands landing on more of your balls than the bin. You got out of there before Abby came out and could harass you. She’d probably be meaner to you than she was to Max. Then again, maybe you should stay...

Chapter 3 - Good Morning, Coral

After Abby, you still have six sisters to wake, and so decide to walk out of her pretty blue-walled room.

Down the hall, on the far side of your little bedroom, came out your mom from her bedroom, giggling like a far younger woman as she pulls Demarcus out too. He’s in shorts and a sleeveless tee, while she’s in an old, too-big t-shirt that covered her big ass, but her wide thighs are exposed. If she was wearing any underwear, you couldn’t tell. She turned around and winked at you, smiling cruelly at your excuse for a member, squeezing her bulls ass as they went downstairs. They’d get the coffee she’d prepared and watch some TV before anything. No rush.

There’s plenty of time to get bullied by any one of your sisters, or even some girls in the neighborhood or at school. White dicks, while cumming twenty times as fast as big black cock, could still go all day if the boy was horny enough. Give it ten minutes, your little balls could totally muster up another drop of cum to squeeze out.

Right across the hall from Abby’s room was the guest bedroom, occupied this summer by your second oldest sister, Coral. A university student with hair redder than your moms and more tattoos than almost any girl you knew, she may be the nicest to you of any of your sisters. She’d never enjoy sex with a penis like yours, of course, but she found white boys cute and funny, and always made sure not to point out their inferiority around them. Most of her tattoos weren’t even of the snowbunny kind- her arms and back were covered in vibrant vines and flowers, with only the occasional queen of spades tattoo- a vine one around her thigh, a ‘snowbunny’ flourish on her shoulder, and a squat spade with a Q in the center on her right freckly buttcheek.

You knock on the door. No response. Ear against the off-white door, you turn the knob to go in. As sweet as she is, Coral’s still a girl- well, a young lady now- with needs, and the chief of those needs was a big cock to fill those holes with. She got plenty black cock at university, but she was the kind of brightly haired, round-glasses, carefree art hoe who loved herself a good dildo. Of which she’s got plenty.

That’s what greeted you as you walked into her room- she was passed out on the bed, laying on her back, a dildo barely in her pussy and a buttplug firmly in her ass. The dildo was fat and blue, with a rounded base under the shaft and round, soft balls, molded to have large, thick veins that seemed to alone be bigger than what you were packing. You couldn’t see much of her buttplug other than that it was a rubbery black, and it seriously stretched her asshole out.

On her desk and shelf were the rest of her collection, an impressive two dozen dildoes, some of which she’d had since high school. She also had some old ones somewhere, in a drawer or in a box somewhere, but those little twigs, silicone little cylinders and finger-sized vibrators, her favorite middle school toys that she wouldn’t let mom pass down to her little sisters, could never satisfy her anymore. She’d rather use them than a white dick, but that wasn’t a high bar.

Her collection’s size humiliated you. The ones she has out, which she had been using in recent years, were almost all in the double digits in terms of inches. Her smallest still dwarfs you, an 8-inch pink noded vibrator. She has a few cylindrical vibrators, the purple one squatter than the green one, both under the 10 inch mark, along with an 8.5 inch warm up dildo, with a fleshy texture and suction cup bottom.

Curious are the colors. There were many colorful ones, and even some translucent vibrators, but plenty of her collection were huge white cocks. Some are more realistic than others, but at least four or five have similar beige flesh and ruddy pink heads. Your mother sure thinks it’s weird that Coral would ever enjoy seeing a white cock in her, even an unrealistically huge one made of silicon, but honestly it doesn’t make you feel much better about your woefully inadequate size.

She still has black ones, of course- a perfectly black, smooth two-pronged clitoral vibrator sits in the center of her collection, it’s with twice your length in places. On one side is an empty space, probably for Big Blue, the one in her right now, and on the other side is a deep chocolate god of a dildo, at least 18 inches in shaft length, thick and girthy as a football player, and just as black. Why Coral didn’t use this one every night is beyond you- hell, why Coral didn’t bring home one of the many black men she’d posted pictures with on social media stories is beyond you. Imagining her with both the dildos and the bulls, you poke your half-hard dick with one finger.

Big Blue slides out of Coral’s pussy, the tip still dripping wet from the hours of orgasms it must have brought her last night. She stirred, waking up as she saw the light peeking through her blinds .“Hey, anyone there?” She groans in a tired voice, rubbing her eyes.

You turn around, covering your small whiteness with one hand. “Just me, Coral.”

She sits up, running her hands through her scarlet curls, “oh, hey little bro. Can you put big blue up for me?”

You nod, knowing to never disobey a white goddess, picking up the large, floppy sex toy with both hands, mouth wide as you stare at it. As you put it back, you let your small hand fall from your equally wimpy crotch. Your sister notices.

“Aww, you have a little stiffy! Don’t you usually jerk off by now?”

“I-I do,” you respond, “I’ve already came two times today.”

“Well, guys do get like that.”

You nod in agreement, “Mpm and Abby’ve been shown that too today..”

“Well, you’re just like their bulls aren’t you? Just.. a bit on the smaller side.”

“A bit?”

“Oh come on, lil bro, I’m being nice! Not all girls love giant black, two foot fuckin things! Is there something wrong with me thinking white guys are cute?”

You look at her collection, then back at her. “I guess not.”

“And you’re cute too you know- I know mom and the others give you a hard time, but you’ve always been bigger for a white boy. They’re just making sure you don’t let it get to your head.”

“You think I’m cute?” You ask.

“Well, yeah?” She stretches, getting out of bed. She’s a bit taller than you, with freckles on her shoulders and perky breasts, “who cares that I’m your sister. I mean, I’ve had sex in public in front of mom! You don’t think it’s weird, right?”

You shake your head.

“Yeah- plus, plenty of girls have had sex with their black half brothers. I’ve heard Abby and Lee did it a few years back, if you could believe it.” Lee was your half-brother, who your mom had between Abby and Coral with an old bull. He was off at college now, and was definitely a sign that black genes were more dominant than white. And you could believe it.

You blush as you realize you’ve been dripping a tiny strand, thin as a spiders web, of precum down to her floor.

“Aww, look at that! You don’t make too much more, do you? I know black guy’s precum is like, way thicker than even like your cum, but like, that thing doesn’t need much to lube itself up, right?” “Thats- what they teach everyone in school,” you respond, gathering weak precum on your finger.

“I slept in biology,” she shrugged, “but if that’s a lot for you, does that mean you have to jerk off?”

You blush, “Y-yes. I’m very horny again.”

“Awww!” she smiled lovingly, “Wanna do it now? It’d be really cute.”

You know you shouldn’t. You are white after all, and her body should be reserved for black bulls. Your mom would get so mad... but you’re really horny. You look up and down the tattoos on her arms, the milk white tits and her strawberry nipples. You remember how Coral could be mean too, like when your dad had said her tattoos were unbecoming, and she threw the insult right back at him when he was jerking off his tiny, old, white dick while mom was being spitroasted in her room.

That will be you one day, jerking off as your mom or sisters or wife or daughters were blacked. If you’re even allowed to see it when you were older. You’d love to see massive black cocks pound perfect, pale white pussy for the rest of your life.

You reach a hand down and start pulling at your little underdeveloped dick. Even the skin of your tiny balls is pulled as you jerk it. It’s all one tiny little organ.

She squats down, “Aww! It’s like..” You stare at her sexy body, hoping you can be lucky enough to one

day have a girl as nice as her (in more ways than one), “Like a-a little paperclip! You see it, right? Small, kinda round, fun to play with.” She pokes it.

“Coraaaaal.”

“Sorry little bro-” she got up, “ah, I shouldn’t, but-” she rubbed her hands all over her body.

“I’m so hard Coral....” you mutter, barely a whisper.

“I know,” she gasps, touching herself, “you’re adorable. Do you- well, are you a virgin?”

You nod.

“Pfft, what am I asking, of course you’re a virgin. And I’m not, I’m sure you remember when I got my virginity taken by a BBC. But I sometimes want something a little more low-key. A little... smaller,” she sat on the bed, “Do you wanna try and fuck me?” she spread her legs.

“T-to fuck you?” You stutter, holding your breath so that your tiny cock doesn’t spurt out its buildup of droplets of cum.

“Yeah. It wouldn’t be my first time with white boy penetrating me, or, like, trying to penetrate, but yours looks a tiny bit bigger, so I’m sure I can at least feel it. And it won’t be weird because I’m not like a virgin or anything. You’ve jerked off to me before, right?”

You nod. You’ve jerked your dicklet to all your sisters of course.

“So what’s the deal?” “I’m.. just small,” you mumble.

She snorts. “So? It’s about the thrill. The taboo. Learn to live a little, kid. Of course I won’t be satisfied. Who cares? Just have fun.” She invites you with those long, colorful legs.

You give in, “I didn’t think I’d lose my virginity like this...” you mutter as you walk up to her, shuffling awkwardly as you point your little needle-dick to her wide pussy. It looked weird, the same, weak pink color of white penis and white pussy coming together. You can see why- her well-fucked, hot, didlo-loving cunt utterly dwarfs your pussy. Forget black guys, white pussy’s better than what’s between your legs. You’re scared for what comes next.

“Jeez,” she teases, “could you be any less graceful?”

You blush hotly as you feel the tip of your dicklet touch her wetness, muttering an apology under your breath. “I’m putting it in..” “Hey, I can actually feel it,” she chirps, laying down as she lets you do all the work.

You simply try what you’ve seen from your mom, sisters, and the porn they show on TV. You put your dick as far into her pussyhole as you can, barely touching a few of the walls in there, and certainly not pleasuring them.

It feels rock hard, weak white nerves stirring up hormones in your addled little brain as your head spins from pleasure. The residual wet warmth of your sister’s pussy after her night of masturbation feels incredible. Your heart pounds as your dicklet quivers.

“C’mon little bro, I believe in you,” she mutters.

You listen to her. Yeah, you’re a whiteboy, but you’re above average! And you’re decent enough, in one way or another, to have your hot-ass sister fuck you! So you know that you can make this worth it. Maybe even-

You lose your train of thought as you thrust in and out of her. That’s barely anything, so they’re tiny thrusts, of course, but that only makes it feel like you’re pounding into her soft, unblemished inner thighs, tattoo-less hips, and horny incestuous pussy even more. It’s not like what a black guy would do, it’s what YOU- You totally lose whatever you’re thinking of as your eyes roll back in your head, you cum at in no time at all.

Instinctually, you pull it out and let it drip on the floor. If you’d impregnated any white girl, mom would kill you.

As you let the last droplet fall, you look at your sister’s loving face.

“Awww man...” all that love, and still, she’s disappointed.

Chapter 4 - Good Morning Mary...

You leave corals room embarrassed, tiny dick shrinking back up into your smooth little crotch until the flaccid nub disappears

You walk out of her room and sigh, looking at your disappointing size. Your balls buzz, wanting more. You’ll jerk off again before and after brunch, at least. Stream some live blacked, edge to the Humiliation Channel for all of 30 seconds, some very fun things. Such was your life everyday, jerking off to massive, dark, powerful, swinging, hung black cock as BBC tattooed white girls take them in their horny pink pussies.

Either way, next you had to get the rest of your sisters up, going down in the jack and Jill bedrooms, which shared a bathroom, occupied by the twins, both seniors at your school- On the left is Ellie, a big, curvy girl with an ass and tits to rival your mom, whose body shape she matched most of all the girls, albeit more athletically dispositioned. She’s a cheerleader and volleyball player, and definitely in the top 5 most popular girls at your high school, meaning she always had a black boy up in her panties. Her current boyfriend is Andre, basketball player, a center big enough to be a footballer, who you know was packing over 18 inches of blackness. A massive, ripe banana to your grape.

On the right is Mary, Ellie’s polar opposite. Thin and flat, she’s never had a boyfriend, and only been fucked by a BBC on her birthday, when young girls typically were, and in the occasional threesome with her sister and whoever she dated at the time. As some girls put it, Mary’s a femcel- shut in and bitter, she’s resentful of your sisters for being more attractive than her and at black boys for not finding her sexy enough. She especially hates white boys though, never missing a chance to let her frustration out on you. Honestly, it’d be better for her to just be normal. She spends most of her days reading and writing porn stories about BBC, instead of just getting laid. You can’t ever say that, of course, or you’d get your ass beat and your balls smacked.

You’d still fuck Mary in a heartbeat though. She’s certainly hotter than your hand on your babydick. Or rather, your fingers. You’d give anything for a shot at a white girls vagina, even right after you disappointed Coral. If only one would show any interest...

You’re a sick little perv aren’t you? A schoolboy, a little white wimp who fantasizes about fucking his sisters, (mostly) beautiful young women who no one who isn’t black stands a chance with. You mentally scold yourself, sounding like Mrs. Bain, your school's discipline officer. You resist the urge to reach your hand down and yet again pull at your tiny, smooth cock, and actually do what you’re here for.

You go to the door on the right, knocking gently before opening it. It seems everyone sleeps in on summer weekends. Mary is passed out on her desk, butt ass naked, loose, small breasts hanging down. It wasn’t the most attractive, but neither was she. Your dicklet was still hard.

Balls aching, you walk up to her, light feet not making noise on the soft carpeted floor. Her laptop is still open in front of her, and her right hand is barely on it. You could easily see she what she’s been doing...

Since Mary is your only sister (well, only sister who was of age) who doesn’t get regularly fucked, you’ve figured that she’s gotta finger herself A LOT to make the moans you hear from her room... and she has to have something to stimulate all that... and, well, your curiosity gets the better of you.

You press the power button on the laptop and the screen turns on, showing you what your sister was pleasuring herself to in the wee hours of this morning. Several tabs were open- some erotica, some porn, all BBC. She has pictures and videos of enormous black cocks, stuffed inside dozens of white girls. Some in pussy, some in ass, some getting run train, all looking ecstatic. Familiar stuff to you- your sister has similar tastes. No white dicks though- she seems to like the kinds where those tiny things are kept behind the camera. You can’t really blame her.

What really catches your eye is a porn page of Mr. Africa- the man with the biggest BBC on earth, nearly three whole feet long. He could touch his chest with the lip of its mean purple head, and it dwarfed every white woman who faced it. You know Mr. Africa has a black wife, as no white girl has ever managed to take his godly cock, though plenty had tried, and plenty more want to try. Including Mary, it seems. How stupid- Mr. Africa was WAY out of any league she could be in. No way would she even get the chance.

You also notice a story open on her Word doc- a page titled ‘Taking Mr. Africa.’ Of all things it was a fapfiction, 2nd-rarer erotica written about her and some of her few friends having sex with Mr. Africa’s unrivaled cock. She went into vivid detail, writing about how he’d pick up her thighs and slam his ‘monster dick’ across her torso, his huge, grapefruit-sized balls against her weak pussy, his dick going all the way to her cleavage. It seems her self-insert has bigger tits than she really does.

More paragraphs, about how her friends helped her suck his godly cock, how 8 hands could be on it and not touch at all, how his huge balls smelled like pure sex, making them drool as they smothered their faces. Mary even wrote herself worshipping his ass, eating it out. You know your mom eats her lovers ass often, but you’ve only seen it once. You wonder how many times Mary, just a year older than you, has. She’s clearly seen or read about it some way, based on the detail she puts into describing how she kisses and tongues his black asshole, loving the taste of his anus in her mouth, while her arms wrap around his huge, strong thighs to feel his manly black balls, too big to even fit in her hands.

You realize how much you want your ass eaten, or at least played with. You’ve been offered BBC dildoes, but never practiced enough to take them. You weren’t a sissy, but you start to consider fingering your butt sometime soon. Maybe a girl would even eat it- after all, yours was bald, pink, and smooth, unlike the rugged manliness of a black man’s.

You read on, how her 3 friends all work on his cock, one at the tip and two at the sides. How they can’t even come close to fitting any of him in their mouths is written about, along with a description of his thick veins and strong pelvic muscles. She wrote that one of his veins is thicker than most white cocks she’s seen. You’re pretty sure she’s only seen yours and dads, but still, you have to check. Clicking on another tab, you go to his webpage and look at the public pictures of his actual cock- it’s depressingly massive, looking as long as your leg, while you have to pinch your legs together when you compare. His veins might just be thicker than your whole dick. It’s not called a micropenis for nothing.

You keep reading- how he fucks all of them, getting a half or a quarter of his dick into the others, while Mary cums the second his tip sinks into her hole.

‘I squirt more than I ever have before, the arc of my juices flying further than I thought they could. Still, as far as my orgasm sent them, they didn’t reach Mr. African’s crotch. His cock was that long.’

You gulp as you read that, sore little cocklet hard again. You use her laptop’s touch pad to look at other tabs, many with BBC. One has a comparison of the average white boy, the worlds smallest black man, the worlds biggest white boy, and of course, Mr. African. The average white boy, of course, is a little under two inches or so. You already know that the smallest white penis is impossible to know, because so many are less than a tenth of an inch long. The smallest black man, you’re surprized to know, is a tiny 4.5 inches, not much smaller though than the world record white boy, 5 inches. All are dwarfed by even the average BBC, of course.

Your sister stirs, mumbling “Babe... uhhhhh... babe.. Gimme... gimme that cock...” she said, wetly smaking her words together as she reaches out her hand, grabbing right in front of you.

You blush at the thought. Her hand was right there, wanting to grab a cock. Sure, yours was a little white dick, but you wanted it, she wanted it, so--

You shuffle forward, letting her fingers rest on your white boi clitty. They rub against it, before starting to almost pet the tiny thing involuntarily.

"Is thissa cock?" she mutters, eyes closed, "it's smallll.... it's gotta be soft... is it hard? Why'ssit hard.... are you a white boy?" she snickers, "white boy white boy... tiny dick white boy.... thass dumb... I only like black guys.... nobody likes whiteboys... why's it so hard and small?...." she strokes it, easily feeling the entirety of its length with a few fingers, surprised by the tininess. She feels up your little balls, "unnf... not black in the sack... either.... it's like a baby's..." she giggles, letting her hand slip off your throbbing tininess. You jump, not wanting the stimulation to end, and grab her hand to push her palm up against your smooth little member. Her hand engulfs the miniscule thing, feeling warm and soft. You nearly cum. But then- she jumps.

"What the fuck?!" she yells, looking at you, "Were you- using me to jerk off?!" she sees her laptop, gasps, and swings her leg up to kick your pathetic balls, "and you looked at my porn!? WHAT THE FUCK?"

You fall onto your hands and knees in pain, muttering an apology, "please don't tell mom- I-I was just supposed to wake you up for breakfast. I didn't mean too..."

"Stupid little fucking whiteboy can't control himself. Figures. AND you saw me naked. Gross. get the fuck out of my room, bitch, I'll be down for breakfast after I'm done washing my hands."

You can't do anything but do as she says, and leave her room, hands between your legs, hoping she doesn't tell mom.

Chapter 5 - And Good Morning Ellie

You close Mary’s door behind you as you put your hand over your white boy dick. It shudders. Small size making it weak against the cold hallway. Your tiny balls are clenched up, ready to cum. If you stroked it once, or even just pushed it down, you’d cum. You know it.

You walk down the hallway to the banister above the main area of the house. There’s mom, eating Demarcus’ ass on the couch, while Abby’s hubby jerks off with a tissue. Mom never ate ass, but made an exception for her favorite huge, old black lover. She was messy, sloppy, drooling all over Damarcus’ older asshole, licking every inch of it. She probably did it because he’d do it to her- Damarcus adores eating ass, and your moms fat, full ass is probably the best he could get. She rarely came from butt stuff, but that was mostly because her asshole was tight. Both were enjoying this now. Breakfast might have to wait a little.

You still have to go and wake up your other sisters though, so you probably shouldn’t tug one out here. You turn around, walking back to the twin bedrooms, this time to Ellie’s door. You rub the straining tip of your penis, trying hard as it can to reach that next half inch, as you knock on the door. You stop before you cum, right as it opens.

You’re greeted by a huge, tall black boy, maybe a few years older than you, leaner than Damarcus. His hair is in a short fade and he’s unshaven on both his face and body, all covered in sweat. Right in front of your body swings his massive, half-hard black cock. It has an even width with a very round head, easily the length of your torso. It twitches, and pushes up against you. You can feel it’s warmth, it’s weight, it’s wetness. Your sisters been fucking this massive pole. Impulsively, you cum.

Your face turns bright red as you realize Andre, Ellie’s boyfriend, is watching your tiny penis dribble cum into the carpet. He cracks up laughing, slamming his chest with a big, strong hand and the other one in a fist in front of his mouth, yelling “Yooooooo-“

He steps back laughing as you feel horribly embarrassed. You should’ve known this was gonna happen. As he steps back, Ellie comes forward.

God, she’s gorgeous, tanned and curvy, thick legs strapped with muscle. She could probably crush you between those thighs- and your dicklet? Forget it.

“What’s going on?” She asks. She’s naked too, and her long, strawberry blonde hair is wet with sweat. You wonder how she was fucked through the night. She didn’t have to wonder what you stayed up until 4 am doing, cumming twice every hour since midnight.

“Your lil bitch brother came right in front of me!” Andre laughs on her bed. He sits on the messy, damp sheets.

Ellie’s eyes widen and she to cracks up. “HA HA!” she points at you, walking over without bothering to cover her huge tits or perfectly smooth, tanlined crotch. “Bro- did you seriously cum at Andres’ dick? I

mean, it’s fuckin great, almost like nineteen, twenty inches, but seriously? I didn’t know you were a faggot!”

You blush, unable to move. She walks, no, struts right over to you with a mocking look on her face.

“I-I’m not gay,” you insist.

“Then what are you? If you like men you’re gay, sissy boy. I’ll lick pussy, especially if it has black cum in it, and I don’t give a fuck about if you call me a lesbo. I hear you moaning like a little girl in your room, porn on your tv. Ya watch sissy boy porn, with little white “boy,”” she makes air quotes, “butts being fucked by bbc? Little sissyclits being compared to things like that?” She points to Andre behind her, huge cock swinging as he walks to put his bag of XXL condoms in his letterman’s pocket, “or how your tiny little baby balls shoot watery fucking loads while black dick creams your ass?”

You can’t keep up with Ellie’s motormouth. She was an excellent speaker- always hyped her team up before games, and always new how to make you feel bad. She’s probably your moms favorite. You’d just have to tell the truth.

“I c-cummed,” you stutter, “I came because I saw how wet his dick was, and... I imagined it fucking you!”

That just made her laugh even more, “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!” She bent over, letting her big perfect tits flop as they adjusted to gravity. “You little cuck faggot- I’m pretty sure that still makes you gay.”

“I’m nottt!” You insist, staring at her beautiful tits bounce with every breath and movement she makes. Your pin dick gets hard again, desperately wanting to blow a little load onto your sisters heavenly tits. A single nipple could probably smother your miniscule hard on as her massive, fit ass was clapped by a huge cock.

“Look Andre, he’s getting hard again!” She points, struggling to no collapse from laughing at you.

“Babe, he’s a whiteboy, what do you expect? Let him have his fun,” said Andre in a cool, deep voice, walking out of the bathroom looking perfectly clean with smooth, chocolatey skin and a cock hung like your arm, “Ay, whiteboy, wanna play a game?”

“A- a game?” You ask. You try to avoid staring at his half hard megacock, then try to avoid looking jealously at his lean and roundedly muscled body, until you look at his face.

“Yeah. I’m horny, youre horny, how about we jerk off and see how we compare? I’ll go easy on you, totally loose, no stamina, got it?”

“Well- I can't do much-“

“C'mon boy, it’ll be fun. Did Ellie ever tell you bout how when I was fucking Mrs. Danksworth, all her family members watched? I’d say you’re bigger than all those white boys.”

“Not that that’s saying much,” laughs Ellie on the bed.

“Okay- but we need to get breakfast!” You insist.

“Won’t take too long. I’ll even stand further back than you. I wanna see how that little thing shoots,”

“You’re fucking gay too, Andre,” laughs Ellie.

“So what I like fuckin white boys? They look like girls anyways!” Both laugh at you.

“I still need to wake up Jenny and Katie and-“

“Cmon lil bro, we know you’re a quick shot!” Mocks Ellie.

“Fine,” you surrender like a typical white boy.

“Aight,” he says, “Ellie, put on a show with that gorgeous ass of yours.”

She smiled, bending over on the bed and sticking her ass up, beginning to shake it in wide circles. It ripples with muscles and the smallest two few of fat, swollen from the thousands of squats she religiously did just to show off to black guys. She warmed up a bit, the broke into a full on twerk.

“Mm babe, twerk that ass,” says Andre, hand going all the way up and down his massive pole of a cock, jerking off as his girlfriend, your sister, twerks like a pro. He arches is back and relaxes, knowing that whatever he does it’ll be more than satisfying for any horny white girl.

You jerk your little cock to her too, but to hope that you can clean it from her asscheek instead of the carpet, you hobble forward, hand tightly around and totally hiding your hairless dick. Your little balls clench as your hear the sound of her ass clapping right in front of you. You smell the sweet, horny sweat of her legs too, the kind she always smelled like when she came home after winning a volleyball game and getting fucked in the locker room. This was your weakness.

It was all your weakness- Ellie was always the ‘dominant’ sister of her age range, as both Coral and Abby were quite a bit older than her, as compared to how the two sets of twins in your family were so close. Ellie always domineered over you along with mom, and was influential in Jenny’s development as a BBC slut just like all the rest of them. Ellie was often sweet, but whenever people from school were around, she was crueler than Mary. Just getting to jerk off to her twerking ass, for real, not in your 3 am fantasies, was a blessing.

“Mmm fuck,” moaned Andre, dick wet and slick and with sloppy noises to boot, “I’m not even gonna try to control myself- I’m cummin fast as I can!”

You keep jerking off, instead of using a few fingers, instead using your full hand, and your other to massage your balls. You wish you could control yourself, but honestly, it’s impossible to take your hand off your cold little baby dick, especially with Andre’s hot, massive member just feet away. You hope you can at least control your orgasm better than ever before, so that you and Andre can meet in the middle for cumming on Ellie. It wasn’t likely though. You really were a quickshot.

Surprisingly enough with a strong, manly, “ARRGGGHHHHH,” from Andre, he aggressivley slammed his hand against his crotch and threw his head back as he came, huge, hanging black balls tightening up to deliver yet another load in this room, already smelling deliciously like black cum.

He shot a massive arc of hot, thick ropes onto Ellie, practically cumming on her from across the room, landing in thick, strong pools on her back and bed, with one drop going splat on her sheets just close enough for her to lick. Another lands on her asscheek, a big glob of superior cum jostled by her fast ass-shaking.

She stops twerking, using her thin hands to gather up her boyfriend’s delicious cum and eat it right up. Thanks to how much she twerked, all the cum blasted into her guts was upset, and soon came flowing from her used butthole.

You waddle forward, feeling the little squirt inside your crotch that tells your excuse for a dick you’re about to cum. You do, lifting your thin hips to try and get as close to her butt as possible,

You cum, tiny little spurts jumping out of the quivering tip of your dick. Some land on the muscular upper portion of her ass, well-lit by her girly ceiling fan. Most just grazed the supple skin of the curve of her ass, little drops barely sticking onto them. Some fell onto her feet.

“Goddamn! I was like 6 feet back and I still came farther than you, boy!” laughed Andre.

“And nobody was surprised,” smiled Ellie evily, holding her hand between her soft thighs to cup the cum flowing from her asshole and closing her legs so they didn’t drip further. You stare at your little droplets sprinkled on them, feeling that this was your best orgasm today. You knew what came next.

Ellie stretched out her right leg, the one you came on. "Lick it up!" she demanded. Your cleaning duties were not a surprise.

If black cum tasted like thick, sweet and salty drink, and girl's juice was sticky sweet nectar, than your wimpy little fluids were probably best described as sugar water.

You swallowed every drop.

Chapter 6 - A Good Morning to Jenny

After sucking the sweet sweat and your thin cum from Ellie’s goddess ass, you told them to go down for brunch soon. Your face was beet red the whole time.

You excused yourself, waking across the hall to your room to check your phone for messages. Some from your friends, all boys. Why would girls text you of all people anyways?

After that, you went to the room next to yours, but on the other side. While on the right wall, where the bed was up against, was your mom’s room, the other side, to the left, was your twin sister, Jenny’s room.

Jenny has light auburn hair and a thin frame and, like you, above average assets. For you, it was an extra almost-inch to your penis, but for her, it was perfectly smooth skin, especially for her big perky tits and round sexy ass. The only blemishes on her were three freckles on the bridge of her nose, which might have made her cuter.

She was probably the sister you knew best, bro your twin. You often had the same classes together and would even help her send nudes to her boyfriends sometimes, but she also had a rough edge. She was sort of Ellie’s opposite, who was nice in public but loved tormenting you in private. Jenny was always cruel to you at school, but was rather nice at home. “It’s just social shit. No need to get so pissy about it,” she told you when you once asked why she loved joining in when you were being bullied. “I actually really like you, bro, but what would the girls think if I showed it? Besides, little white dicks are literally always so funny.”

You didn’t like that part of her. Yeah, gossiping after school and talking about movies and books and tv was fun, but she was always cold when you wanted her to be consistent in her affection. You wish you’d gotten more out of everything you’ve done for her. You’ve made her lunches, shaved her pussy, helped her in homework. You even told her the penis sizes of every white boy in the grade. Nobody but Jenny and you knew you did that. If she cared enough to keep the secret, of course.

Still, you knew that once school started, she’d become a total sadist to you. You just figured it was how white girls were. Maybe you should learn your place better.

You open her door. Her room had girly lavender furniture, with a desk, nightstand, shelf, and dresser all the same color wood, with the same white carpet as everywhere else in the upstairs, and pale rosy walls. The room looked enchanting with her lacy white curtains, but it was freezing.

She always kept her room cold, while you liked it warm. It makes your balls feel like they could swing just a little bit, and your dick hang a few fractions of an inch lower. This cold air makes your ballsack wrinkle up against your little whiteboy taint like a lump, and your pee pee shrivels inside your body until it looks like a little bug bite.

Jenny especially liked it when dicks were really tiny. Yours especially.

She had never had a white boyfriend, and only had a few flings with black boys in the past 2 years of high school. Now, though, you see someone next to her in bed. It’s a long, thin, smooth black hand over her shoulder as she sleeps.

“Jenny?” You whisper, trying to get her up. You poke her cheek to make her stir, but then feel some weird texture on it. You realize this is the same thing you often woke up feeling in your smooth, hairless white tummy, but much thicker.

It’s cum. Your twin sisters face is covered in cum!

You pull down the covers to expose her body. She’s totally naked, and beautiful as ever. Her tits had gotten even rounder since the last time you took nudes for her. Her pubic hair was shaved into a cute, neat little landing strip. You’re jealous of her hair down there.

On the other side of her, you almost think it’s a girl with how lean the deep black body was. But you know Jenny wasn’t a lesbian, and all of the black guys at your school are manlier than this. So what gives?

Then the body turns over, and you see why Jenny was sleeping with him. He has an average black dick, a hugely long thing, even though it’s half hard at most. It’s longer than your arm, and very smooth. Almost as smooth as your immature teeny white thing. Weird.

Then Jenny stirred. “Wha..” she blinked, rubbing her hand from her sexy belly button to her puss. That’s one of moms mannerisms. She does it after she got fucked.

“Jenny!” You whisper, covering your microdick with your little hand, “who is that guy?”

“Wha- oh, shit!” She jumps up quickly, but with enough grace to not wake the boy who fucked her up. She gets on her feet, being a hair taller than you despite technically being younger, and puts her hands on your shoulders. “Please don’t tell mom about him. Pretty please?”

“H-hey Jenny,” you stutter, scared of how close her pussy and tits to the wimpier dick in the room, “why would she care? She’s happy with the rest fucking any guys they like here. What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s just..” she blushes. You were one of the only people Jenny would let herself blush in front of. Well, at home at least, at school she loved bullying you and all your tiny dicked friends for that exact reason. She continues, “he's my boyfriend!”

You pause. “Jenny, that’s great! How long have you been dating?”

“Three months,” she admits.

“That’s so wonderful! Your longest boyfriend ever! Why haven’t you told anyone?” You’re genuinely happy that she’s in a relationship with a black guy with such a long dick. It makes you happy that she’ll be fucking that thing every night for the next few months. And a little horny.

“We aren’t public yet. So you’d better not tell anyone. Got it?”

“Okay, okay,” you say, backing up from her naked body. She really is a beautiful girl, with perky tits that bounce like gel packs, with a marvelously thin body and just enough flesh on her tummy to be squeezable. You can’t see her ass, but just thinking of the round, perked thing makes the tiny, straw-like rod of your micropenis buzz at its very base, deep inside your pathetic, cum-eating, horny little servile white boy body.

It’s not fair how effortlessly she looks so good, when your white boy body was so unimpressive, with a featureless torso, narrow shoulders, and skinny arms. You loved her for it though.

“And stop checking me out!” she snaps with a hushed whisper. “Why are all white boys such incestous little creeps?”

“D-didn’t you have me shave your taint once when you were face timing Lee after you traded nudes?” You try to sound cocky in your defence, but your stutter makes it sound wimpy. It was cocky, if cockiness was applied to tiny white cocks.

“Shut up,” she turns redder, “I’m warning you! Besides, it doesn’t count if they’re half brothers. And black!”

“Okay, okay,” You say, trying to whisper again as the black guy on the bed stirred. He didn’t look too strong, but you were always afraid of how bad any black guy could hurt you. Especially with a cock like that. It looked like a skyscraper! Yours was, at best, a house. Not even this house, this house was two stories and an attic. Like a one story house. You shudder, trying to shake the thought of huge black dicks compared to the misplaced pinkie toe on your crotch after how much Ellie called you gay. “So,” you say, trying to get back on subject, “Why do you wanna keep this a secret? And who is he?”

She gets really close to your face, like she was scared mom would hear, even though she’s obviously downstairs, moaning while Damarcus fucks her. “His name’s Jaylon, and he’s gonna be a freshman starting this next year.”

“A freshman?” you ask, realizing why he didn’t look as manly “Wait, so you started dating him back when he was in-”

“I know!” she hushes.

“By the time he’s our age we’ll be starting college!”

“I know!” she grabs you again, “I met him last year as a student ambassador. He’s a really, really good distance runner. Not the fastest or the strongest, but he had stamina like nobody the talent scouts have ever seen,” she says.

“Stamina?” you joke.

“Yeah,” she breathes hotly, biting her lower lip and staring off into space with her doe eyes. You look at her little nose freckles and feel her cold hands on her arms. Your little dick moves a little, getting just a

tiny bit out of its teenie weenie shelter. “He was so fucking good last night. Came like a firehose.”

Very recently, you remember how Jenny said that you came like a leaky faucet.

“But... he’s just a kid,” you say defensively.

“Blah, blah,” she backs up, crossing her arms, “You know you aren’t even half the man he is.”

You feel embarrassed. Your clitty likes it.

“So... Jenny’s dating a guy who isn’t even a freshman yet...” you say to yourself.

That gets her upset, as expected. You know your sister. She’s the only person you’ve ever been able to act confident in front of. That’s been increased by the long summer meaning she hasn’t publicly humiliated you once. That would soon change.

“Don’t you dare fucking tell anyone. Please, please don’t! I’ll literally do anything!”

“Anything?” You ask her, thinking of Coral. “C-c-can I fuck you?” you stutter excitedly.

She stops. “Can you.. What?”

You suddenly turn very red.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re fucking gross. You really wanna fuck Jaylon’s sloppy seconds? He may be younger than you, but his cum is probably, like, ten times thicker than anything your wimpy little balls ever whipped up. You really want that?”

You nod, stroking your tiny worm to hardness.

She sighs. “Fine. But you’ll literally never tell a soul, even after we go public. That’s not your place. And you’d better not make a sound, or Jaylon will kill you,” she adds venomously.

“I promise,” you say

“I sure won’t be making a peep,” she rolls her eyes.

You waddle over to her with your dickie between two fingers.

“Ugh,” she closed her eyes, “Just stop touching it! You know I hate little white dicks.”

“S-sorry,” you mutter, licking your lips like a little pervert as you wrap your arms around your twin sister’s as you slowly raise your effeminate crotch to meet hers. With them very close together, your nubby little dick is finally close enough to rub against the folded opening to her pussy. She closes her eyes. You get ready to go into your second pussy today, and have sex for the second time in your life.

But then, as the weak, pink tip of your puny penis pushed open her labia, her hole gapes open, and out

runs a huge glob of thick, pearly cum.

The fat drop of cum that Jaylon had shot in her pussy hours ago comes flowing out with a bubbly pop. It falls right onto your dick, and that one, single drop of nut covers your entire penis. If your dicklet was a caterpillar, this thick, sticky cum was its cocoon. Some even gets some on your balls. You don’t know if that says more about how much cum Jaylon’s balls make, or how truly tiny white boys’ dicks were.

Either way, the way the hot, sticky fluid felt all over your shaky little penis was too much. It actually sticks to your penis, unlike any pussy, which is far two wide for you to feel anything. You moan pathetically as you enjoy this cum on your dick. It’s too much for you. You cum, shooting out maybe two little drops. They get lost in Jaylon’s.

“What’s happening?” she opens her eyes as more drops of cum flow down out of her pussy, actually pleasuring her, which she didn’t expect you to do. “Oh,” she says, trying not to laugh, “You got my creampie. Told you you’d be fucking sloppy seconds.”

You don’t do anything as you let more hot cum drip from her cunt to your smooth little crotch. Your face is beet red.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“I- I already came,” you choke.

She really laughed then “Seriously? You didn’t even fucking put it in me? You came just by feeling his cum?”

You nod, “It’s just... so hot.”

“Well, it is better than anything that could come out of your little dick,” she ruffles your hair. Suddenly, Jaylon starts to get up. “Fuck,” she whispers, “If you don’t wanna get you ass kicked, clean it all off yourself! Make sure not one drop hits the floor! I know mom makes sure you’re an expert cleaner!”

You obey her, scooping up his huge loads of cum and your tiny little one off your body with your hands, pouring it into your mouth and licking your fingers clean. Then you put your mouth on her pussy, pushing her back into her nightstand, and suck all the fluid you can out of her.

“What’s goin’ on?” asks Jaylon as he sits up.

“My little brother is just cleaning my creampie like a good whiteboi, you know?” she tells him, pushing your face deeper in her creamy crotch.

“Aight. I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he says, getting out of bed.

After he’s gone, and your twin is all clean, you get up from eating her pussy.

“Okay bro,” she says, sounding awake, “Why’d you even come in here? You know you aren’t allowed to just jerk off to us whenever you want anymore. Mom'll kill you."

"Wha-" you wipe the cum from your lips. "Oh, yeah, mom wanted me to tell you breakfast was ready. Max is making it today."

"That's it?"

You nod.

"You're a dumbass." She says.

"Well... I gotta get Katie and Lily up," you say, leaving. That was the nicest thing you've done with your sister in a long time.

Chapter 7 - A Good Morning for Lily

What always struck you odd (when your little whiteboi brain was actually thinking about the silly, nerdy things whitebois liked to think about when they weren’t rubbing off, getting ready to rub off, or cleaning up their puny cums) was how the room arrangement changed when you got to the younger sisters. Most of the upstairs was taken up by the open space above the big family room, with a chandelier hanging down. It was what you saw when you first walked into the house. If you went straight in and took a bit of a left, you’d go up the rounded staircase to the landing and upstairs hallway. Right in front of that was the master bedroom. It was big and luxurious, and had total access to the back balcony. Black boys would sometimes jump off it into the pool in the back. When your mom wasn’t home, of course. But the hallway was rather normal. It went straight back, with a bathroom at the end. On either side of that were the oldest sisters, Abby and Coral, and then on the sides were the two sets of twin’s rooms, Mary and Ellie, and you and Jenny. At the end on the right side, right next to yours, was the guest bedroom. You could go from oldest to youngest child by walking down the hall, but that was ruined when you got to turn to the two bedrooms whose doors overlooked the living room, because the first door was your youngest sister, and the second was your second-youngest. Oh well. You were still going to get them up in order. First you went to your youngest sister, Lily’s room. You knock on the door. It actually opens itself. Well, Lily opened it. Either way, you think to yourself, finally. You wouldn’t have to shake your sisters off of their horny all-nighter activit- Actually, when the door swung wide open, your petite little sister Lily was totally naked. “L-Lily! What are you doing? Why are you naked.” With big, pretty hazel eyes, Lily just blinked and looked you up and down. She cracked a teeny bit of a smirk when going over your exposed little thing. “You’re naked too,” she pointed out. Oh- yeah, that’s true. “But I was doing this to help mom with her bull…” you explained. “Okay, well, mommy said that I should sleep naked too if I was feeling funny around her and our sister’s bulls,” she explained right back. Feeling funny? Oh. You knew this was going to happen eventually. Katie was finally getting to the age where it was legal to fuck black men. And that age was chosen for a reason. That reason was that it was what girls wanted. She was probably getting insanely horny over every black guy she saw, and even more when there were ones in the bedrooms so close to hers. She stretched and yawned big. “I’m so tired!” “Tired?” You asked, “It’s one in the afternoon!” “Yeah, but I got to sleep at like 4 am!” 4 am? What was she doing? You were gonna ask her, but then you noticed a new poster on her wall- she was a teenage girl, so of course she had a bunch of pretty boys plastered all over the wall. Most of them were whitebois or korean guys, all looking super effeminate with smooth, pale skin and big eyelashes. It kind of made you feel good that girls liked the sort of guy you were. Sure, you were tiny and effeminate, but at least they thought you were cute! Something big changed though. In the middle of her wall, put over all her old posters and stickers, was a 4-foot-tall pin up of a black model, buff as hell, oiled up so his dark brown skin was shiny, covered in tattoos, and with a bulge in his underwear that went down to his knees. “W-what were you doing to stay up so late?” you asked. “Oh,” she giggled, “I was playing with myself!” “Playing with yourself?” you had to ask. “Yes! With my kitty!” she smiled big. Lily spread her little legs open and showed you her pink, bare pussy. It had some juices still in it, and plenty of white stuff coated her folds, “Katie taught me how to touch it last week,” she ran a finger through it. Damn! “And she showed me how good this button thing here feels!” she pointed at her clitoris. “Yeah,” you explain, “that’s your clit. It’s the best part of a girl’s body. That’s what mom always tells me when I- uhmm…” you stop out of embarrassment. “When you eat her out after her bulls fuck her?” she asked with another giggle. “Y-yeah,” you say. You really never had it confirmed how much your baby sister knew. You liked to think it was nothing, that she was perfect and innocent. That couldn’t be the case of course. Not with her too being raised in the same house as the mother of all snowbunny sluts. That BBC-loving MILF was a horrible influence on your little sister- but it was soooo hot. “W-what did you touch yourself thinking of?” you had to ask that too. “Oh- I was thinking of being a real big girl- like mommy! And getting to feel really good all day, everyday, from those big hot black guys!” “Just like our sisters…” you muttered. You hoped Lily would still be nice to you, even though she’d embraced being another black only girl in the black ruled world. “Yeah,” she smiled, oblivious, “and all my friends sisters too! They’ve all started to touch themselves thinking of black boys, like we’re big girls!” her eyes were so wide and excited, “Aren’t you proud of us!” “Yeah…” you said, thinking of how mad mommy would get if she learned you were trying to make Lily stop falling in love with black men. But on the other hand, your insecurity about your tiny, pathetic little white nub, all hard because of your virginal little sister, made you talk. “But I thought you liked white boys? Or those k-pop guys?” She made a face. “Yeah… they’re really cute! But Katie and Ellie and Mommy always tell me, white boys are cute, but black guys are HOT! And look at the new poster I got,” she pointed at the buff, nearly naked black man on her wall, “he’s so hot. Like, you’re cute,” she said. “Wait, really?” you ask. “Oh yeah- I’ve talked to girls who are all like ‘oh, Lily, your big brothers so cute!’ I can’t say who though…” she smirked, “but anyways- you’re cute, but you’re kinda, erm, small, and you aren’t really that muscular, but look at him!” she pointed at him again, “he’s soooo hot! I was up all night touching myself thinking about him!” It really was over. Everyone in your house was a total slave to the BBC. But of course, you were so, so turned on by it. Your little clit dick was dripping. If either of you barely rubbed it, it’d probably dripple the biggest load of today onto her carpet. Ignoring your babydick as you knew all girls would, she stretched again and put on a big t-shirt to cover all her pink little girly bits. “I’m hungry, bro. When’s breakfast ready?” “It’s brunch,” you corrected, “and it actually should be ready by now. That’s why mommy actually told me to come get you.” “Oh, alright,” she nodded, running up to you, and to your big surprise, hugged you! She jumped on you and gave you a big hug, digging her head and soft, sweaty hair into your chest, “Thanks bro! I love you!” She then just kept running downstairs, that big t-shirt flapping, almost revealing her butt and pussy a few times. You looked, but didn’t dare leave the room. Your clitty was so hard… so ready to collapse into another tiny bitchboy orgasm. You thought about her small, pink little budding tits press against you, how good they felt now that her girly little boobies were growing a bit. You imagined them growing bigger, like your other sisters’ had. Would she stay the nicest of them? Or would she be cruel with her newly growing body? As much as you wished she’d be your sweet, loving baby sister forever, you knew that now that she was legal, she’d become a true slut for BBC. If she wanted to abuse you and tease you and rub your face in it, it was her right. You thought of her titties growing when a black guy makes her pregnant. And of course, of her smooth, young buttcheeks under that shirt, rubbing together as she ran. You thought the same about her wet pussy and pink little asshole. How long until she began anal play? It scared and excited you. Maybe you would help her. After all, with your small body and tiny penis, you were proportioned perfectly to have sex with a girl her size. But that would never happen. It was disgusting, you knew, to want that with your little sister. Your mom would kill you, not because you were gross, but because you touched her- after all, your mom had no issue with being gross, happily making you eat her anal creampies. If you were lucky, Lily would let you do that after she got fucked. Fucked by a real man. You felt so frustrated. Her pussy and ass had to be so tiny, but of course, those massive, spoiled black cocks had exclusive rights to them. Black men were soon gonna start doing whatever they wanted with her as they pleased, and you had to let them. Let their big cocks stretch out her holes, while you’d always be cucked and denied. It was just the way the world was meant to be. That was all it took. You shuddered, feeling your little sissy butthole tighten up, your balls clench even smaller. Relief came. You’d be denied forever, as a white boy, but at least your mommy decided she’d let you cum, right? As you came, you thought how good that tiny, watery drop, leaking from your babypenis’ head, sliding down the full inch and a half of your shaft, and sitting on the little line of skin down the middle of your tiny, smooth balls, felt. It felt so damn good, cumming from knowing how inferior you were. As you left the room, tiny cumstain on your pathetic balls, you felt better about how your sister would stop loving you, and only have eyes for black men and their glorious cocks. It was the way things were meant to be. Peepee sore from cumming without being touched, you went out of Lily’s room and went to Katie’s on the right.

Chapter 8 - And lastly, Good Morning to Katie

Right down the short walkway on the landing from Lily’s room is your other young sister, Katie’s room. Unlike Lily, who’s room only had one small window to the left of her bed, Katie is lucky enough to get a big window that totally took up the left side of her room. You’re still distracted from the high of your beta orgasm that you totally forget to knock, and barge right into Katie’s room. “Hey hottie,” she said as she heard the door open. Then she turned around. “Ew- what the fuck- it’s you?” She looks disgusted, which, to be fair, is expected. You are, after all, walking into her room totally naked with that tiny white clitdick exposed, a few messy drops of cum on your underdeveloped balls, and during a time you shouldn’t have been in her room at all, it seemed. It looks like Katie’s putting on a little show for people outside. Her blinds were all the way up and her curtains to the side. There was a perfect line of sight from her room to the street below, and vice versa. It looked like some of the neighbor boys, both white and black, were looking up at her voyeuristically. Katie had put a chair by the window and spread her legs. Her pale, pretty feet were on the window. In her hand was a white wand vibrator, which she was pleasing herself with for who knows how long before you came in. “Hello? What the fuck are you doing here, you fucking loser?” she demands as she turns off her toy. She’s not happy, But then again, she never is with you. She’s just one of those girls who loves torturing white boys. There’s no real explanation, your younger sister is just a little sadist. “You gonna answer, loser? Sheesh, I can’t believe I’m related to you. I’m so fucking tired and your dumbass has to barge into my room too? Mom just fucking cage you.” “N-no,” you said, the threat of your poor little clit-dick locked in a cold, cruel chastity cage made you remember, “I- wait, you’re tired too Why are you up doing… this?” She rolls her eyes, standing up and bending over to spread her asscheeks to the cheering group below. Your pervy little mind wished you were down there, able to see even the tiniest glimpse of your little sister's asshole. “I couldn’t sleep,” she presses her butt right against the glass, “Not with Lily being so fucking loud.” “Loud?” You ask. “Yeah. I told her how to masturbate and shit, and she went crazy these past few nights. She’s always screaming about how good it feels. She sounds worse than Abby,” she rolls her eyes, “I guess you’re not the only fuck up in this house, huh? I made a pretty big mistake. When Coral moves back out I think I’m gonna take her room, I can’t stand that loud bitch.” You feel very hurt by that. After all, Lily might be your favorite sister. “H-hey,” you defended, “L-lily’s just exploring herself. She’s allowed to cum as much as she wants. It’s healthy for her to be sexually satisfied, right? Just like you are.” Just as you said that, with one hand on her chair and the other between her legs holding that vibrator, her whole back starts shaking. Her legs against the window quake, and her anus must be puckering so tight against the glass. Finally, she gets release, and squirts everywhere. “Ahhh!” she moans as squirts of sweet clear pussy water shoot out onto her window and drip down onto the cushioned bench right below it. It already looked stained from a few squirts earlier, but this time, it’s a total mess. “Mmmm,” she sounds so satisfied, “Show’s over until that gets cleaned up,” she smiles, standing up and dropping her vibe. “See that? That’s fucking satisfaction. I didn’t know how to really make myself squirt for years. Lily should stop trying to rush shit, and actually let me fucking sleep.” “M-maybe you’re just different,” you say, “some girls only need to cum- well, how many times have you?’ “This morning? 3 or 4. I bet it’s less than you have when going into everyone’s room to wake them up.” Instead of finishing your point, you just look down and blush. How does she know? “I’m right, right? I’m guessing- you stroke for a good 30 seconds when you get up, right? Then you probably cum when eating mommy’s creampie out, no? You might even cum twice then, she always gets bulls with a lot of cum… and then you probably get to cum with Max when you wake Abby up, then you don’t even have to touch yourself to cum looking at Coral’s dried pussy juice all over her toy collection. Ellie and Mary won’t let you cum, but you’ll probably cum at least once just by trying to hard not too, because you’re a fucking loser. Jenny’s way too nice to you, she’ll probably let you jerk off while she’s on the toilet or something. I fucking hope you didn’t cum when you woke up Lily, because you should literally get your balls chopped off if you did that. So you probably did. That’s what… 7 or 8 orgasms for you?” “S-something like that,” was all you could manage to say. “Fuck, you’re fucked up. I don’t even wanna know,” she hopped off her chair and went to her dresser, where she put on some pink panties. “Don’t fucking look at me when I’m changing, perv. Mom should fucking castrate you.” You gulp. “Y-yes, I know. S-sorry.” She laughs, “yeah, that’s all whiteboys know how to say. I can’t wait to see how many of the boys watching busted in their pants while staring at my booty. I’m shocked you didn’t,” she says, but then looks down at your tiny balls. “Oh- did you?” she starts cracking up, “Is that fucking cum? Holy shit, you fucking did! Did you even touch yourself?” “N-no!” you jump back. Your tiny package bounces just a little bit. “I-it was from earlier!” She walks forward to you, bending over and pinching your tiny clitdick with her two little fingers. She lifts it up to look at your balls. “It’s still wet- how long ago did you cum?” “Um, 3 or 4 minutes ago…” you tell the truth. “So right before you came here- you fucking came to Lily, didn’t you?” she shouted, angrily slapping your little nuts. “Owwwww,” you weakly whine in pain. “You’re so fucking sick! What would mom think? She’d probably just laugh at you, but still. You’re the worst fucking white beta I know, and that’s saying a lot! I’d fucking kick you in the nuts, but you’re probably too impotent to even feel it. Ugh!” You can’t help but blush and get hard. Though Katie was only a year younger than you, she was superior to you in every way. “Stop fucking blushing!” She growls as she turns around to keep getting dressed, “And make that nub you call a dick get less hard! I can’t fucking stand whiteboi stiffies near me,” she said, slipping on some black leggings, “When I have kids, if any of them are fucking boys- well, white “boys’” she makes air quotes, “I’m not gonna do any of mom’s ‘let them cum so they don’t try and touch girls’ bullshit. I don’t care what doctors of Church of the BBC magazine writers say, it obviously doesn’t fucking work. I’m putting any fucking white sons I push out in cages 24/7.” “W-why are you telling me this?” you ask, struggling to hide your tiny boner. She shrugs. “You taught me it’s fun torturing whitebois. It’s the one thing you’re good for. Stop staring at my tits,” she said, putting on a tight t-shirt.” “S-sorry.” “Yeah, whatever. You told Lily brunch is ready, right?” she asks. “Yeah, we should go down.” “Yeah, I will. First I wanna go outside and see if any of those cucks stayed by the house hoping to get some,” she laughed, “but before that,” she walked over to the bathroom she and Lily shared, and brought some paper towels, “you’re gonna clean up my squirts. And use your tongue as cleaning spray.” “Y-yes Katie, of course,” you go over and grab the towels, heading over to keel on her bench and start licking at and wiping your window. “Nuh-uh,” she says right as you start, “stand up. Show off your boy pussy. I wanna post this on Snowgram.” W-what? She was gonna post your white boy hole on social media? That really scared you, but it was so humiliating, it turned you on. That made it worse. Would everyone see your tiny clit? They’d laugh at it, wouldn’t they. “Oh come on, hurry up,” she says, taking out her phone. You obey her, spreading your legs wide to show off that smooth, pink bussy. You hear the phone click as she laughs. “Aright, see ya bro. I’m gonna go eat now,” she walks away. You stay, licking up her pussy juice and residues from her nasty window. It must’ve been days since it was cleaned. Thankfully, you’re a good worker. When you finish, you go back to your room. Your phone is out, with its BLACKED porn background. You open it, go to snowgram, and look at the latest posts. Sure enough, there’s Katie, with a picture of your exposed beta boi ass, captioned ‘cleaning- the one thing white brothers are good for!” Before that post was one of her holding her vibrator between her legs as she woke up, announcing her ‘show’ this morning. It had a ton of white boys from her grade commenting about it, but she pinned one from a girl; “All these white boys tryna shoot their shot, boi u can’t even shoot past your balls!” It had the most likes too. As you read that, you shot another drop of cum. It didn’t go past your balls either You added it to the pile of barely wet tissues in your garbage bin. The trash, where whiteboy cum belongs. Then, you go downstairs for breakfast.

Chapter 9 - Brunch

You reach down between your legs and feel your balls. Rather, your ballsack. The tiny little testicles in that flimsy little bag of skin are totally shriveled up thanks to you cumming 8 times already today. Those poor little glands are already exhausted by producing so much worthless little sperm… and it wasn’t even 2pm yet! You’d probably cum plenty more times today. It would surely end up being just impotent, clear prostate fluid. Well… more impotent than usual. You sniffle at your inferiority. You’re at the top of the stairs, and look down at the clatter below. You walk over to your room and get your clothes on, a simple pair of black shorts and white t-shirt over your unimpressive little body. Then you go downstairs to finally eat brunch. The kitchen is visible right at the bottom of the stairs, which are right in front of the hallway where you and all your siblings' bedrooms are. At the bottom of those stairs was a glossy marble floor, just like the rest of the house. There was also a lower, carpeted living room area with fluffy floors and white and red couches, and even a TV from a tall divider between the living room and the marble. Your mom’s a good decorator, with pretty white and red flowers all on top. To the right of that was the entryway, and to the left was the kitchen. The kitchen is a large space with white tile floors, lined with kitchen appliances that had an island in the middle. In the far corner, next to the back door, was a small table. In the front, close to the living room, was a bigger glass table. Your whole family is already eating. Your mom was at the head of the table, with Damarcus next to her. He was shirtless, but even though he wore gym shorts, the massive, fat snake in them peaked out. He selfishly grabbed at her thick thigh. On the opposite side of the table was Coral, with Mary slouched between her and Ellie. Andre had his arm around Ellie. He was so fucking cocky. On the other side of the table were Jenny, Jayvon, Lily, and Katie. Meanwhile, at the small table, Abby and her man, Julius, and her cuck boi, Max. You gulp as you go to take your seat right next to Katie. She still looks disgusted by you. “H-hey, thanks for getting my food today,” you said. Sometimes, if Abby was making breakfast, she wouldn’t give you any food, and you’d just have to get something yourself. “Oh, sweetie, thank Max. You white boys sure do know how to stick together,” your Mom smiled at you. Max, over with his wife and her bull, was getting his little dick teased from under his shorts by Abby. Though the three were off on their own, with Julius eating his fill of breakfast. Max was struggling to not acknowledge his arousal. Instead, he just kept thanking Julius over and over for enjoying his cooking. After all, if he so much as moaned from having his little dick touched by his wife’s feet, he’d be punished. It wasn’t a whitebois role to be turned on, especially not in public. Cruel girls like Abby didn’t give a shit though. It turns you on a little, as shameful as it feels. Max must’ve been ashamed too, after all, the massive bulge in Julius’ shorts was obvious. It wasn’t like he could ever measure up to what his wife really enjoyed, and he had to thank Julius for everything he did. Being a cuckboi was harder than it looked. “Son,” scolded your mom. You look back at her. You know that you aren’t supposed to start drooling at your sister’s feet. But you definitely weren’t supposed to drool at your mommy’s tits either. “Sorry, mom,” you whisper. You just look down at your food and start eating. This was a snowbunny’s household, and you were ignored. To stay out of trouble, you should ignore them too. But still, you didn’t wanna make the silence awkward. Or make silence in the first place. These people were your family, after all. Now that your mom was calmed down compared to how she was after those hours of being plowed by Damarcus, she could be an attentive mother. Even Ellie or Katie weren’t gonna attack you over breakfast. You look over at Jenny and Jaylon. While Damarcus dwarfed your mom, Andre made Ellie look just as small as Mary, and Julius was the king of the table where ‘Max’s’ family sat, Jaylon was the only small black boy there. Not that he was any smaller down there. Still… you had to ask. “So, um, Jaylon,” you say respectfully. You know you should be submissive to your black masters, even the younger ones, “you met my mom now?” “Howdya know my name, whiteboi?” he asked, looking over. He even spoke with a high pitched voice. But he degraded you like any other superior. It really was humiliating. First, your twin sister was stolen by this black kid, then your dignity in the family. As if you had much. “Because I told him, baby,” sighed Jenny, patting Jaylon’s hand, “Anyway bro, yeah, I told mom about us. She was really approving! I was kinda surprised… but I’m glad we all respect who we love, right?” she asked. She glared distinctly at Coral. “That’s not exactly how I remember it, Jenny,” smiled your mom. “I remember you freaking out when you tried to get him out the door this morning! You should know better that your momma’s got a soft spot for cute things like Jaylon. I told everyone here…. Who wasn’t late… to congratulate Jenny on her new boyfriend.” Jenny leaned back to talk to you, “Don’t sweat it bro, you already congratulated me enough,” she smiled. “Ayo, what’s that mean?” Jaylon asked. “Nothing baby,” she said as she checked her phone, “He just does all my chores and shit. He’s my brother.” she shrugged. At least someone appreciates the only whiteboy in the family. “Still, I think it’s funny that Jenny’s first boyfriend is some lightskin little kid. If she said she wanted to date whitebois, I’m sure mom would be okay with that too,” laughed Coral. Of course she had to be the one bringing up sex with whitebois. The subject actually made you uncomfortable. After all, it just felt like more pressure to perform. It was easier having a tiny dick and being a quickshot when that was all that was expected from you. It was harder when deviant girls like Coral actually wanted to have normal sex! “Damn, why’s this bitch gotta compare me to a whiteboi?” complained Jaylon. “It’s okay baby,” calmed Jenny, “My big sister is just a fucking weirdo.” She stuck her tongue out. “Oh, boo hoo. I’m in college, I’m supposed to experiment and have fun. Is anyone really gonna complain about having sex whenever I want with whoever I want? It’s not like I’m treating whitebois as equals,” she snorted. She then pulled out a vape pen after putting her drink down and took a long drag. Your mom looks mortified. “Coral! I told you not to do that inside!” she insists. Coral sighs and puts away her vape. Mom calms down. “I better not see you do that again, young lady,” she glares, “and you also shouldn’t talk about those kinda things in the house either, especially not in front of your little sisters,” she looks over the table, “or your little brother!” Coral chuckles, “Why not? Lil bro’s already a total pervert, might as well let him accept it.” Mom gets flustered again, “Uh, I do? Of course I do, but that’s not the point, Coral honey. The point is,” she growls a little and grabs Corals arm with her sharp long nails, “We do not talk about them in this household. Right girls?” Everyone nods along with mom. You do too. She probably counted you along with the ‘girls’. “Ow,” says Coral, pulling her arm away. “You don’t hear me mouthing off about your father’s abysmal attempts at sex over breakfast, do you?” “Ugh. No mom, I don’t.” “So apologize!” “Sorry.” “To your siblings. And for what?” Coral looks over at all of you. “I’m sorry for talking about such perverted things at the breakfast table. Can I go now?” Your mom sighs. As scary and mean as she could be, you felt bad for her. Even though Coral was the only white girl to ever really look your way, even if it was a really pervy thing, you wished she was a better daughter. Just to make your mom happy. “Anyways,” she says, looking at you as Coral gets up, puts her plate in the sink, and leaves. “Son, you know what’s coming up for us?” she asks. “Um….” you think carefully, trying to remember. Dammit, you knew this day was special, right? So what was it? Damn your stupid, cum-addled whiteboi brain! Um…. “The party….” your mom hinted. “Right, right!” you say as you remember, “We’re hosting the Neighborhood Blacked Moms Association End-of-Summer party again this year, right?” “Exactly sweetie. Now, I already sent invites out, but, well, I’m a little good at my job,” she turns to Damarcus and smiles, “so not everyone can RSVP by mail. Do you remember your job?” You nod, finally happy to be pleasing mommy, “I have to go around the neighborhood to see who can go or not, right?” “Exactly!” She says, “Good boi. Now come clean my plate up, and you can go.” You nod and stand up. Who cares if your plate is unfinished. You have a job to do, and whitebois are made to serve. A/N, if you wanna create a family that you can meet in the next part of this story, just say so in the comments! Names, dynamics, ideas, anything's accepted! Thank you all!

Chapter 10 - Heading out for the Day

After you wash the dishes for mommy (with a few nice spanks on your bare white boi ass from both your sisters and their bulls) you thank her and get ready to go. In the office, which was next to the kitchen and right under your room, you finally got the stupid printer to work. Out came 2 sheets of paper with over a dozen names on them. All the white girls and women in the neighborhood were written on that sheet. There were 9 houses you had to visit in the next few hours. A busy day today, for sure. You put on your shoes and get the papers in your backpack, and some shorts, just to keep your tiny dickletted self modest. Even though, of course, anyone who saw you could understand that you had a micropenis just by glancing at your skin color. You walked out the hall into the living room. Behind the TV stand, there was a lot of noise. Your weak knees shook as you walked forward in your kid-like clothes to see what was going on. What you see is exactly what you expected. In the few minutes you’d been gone, all the girls and bulls had gotten naked and were having their first orgy of the day right in the middle of the house. Anyone who opened the front door, or even just looked through the windows on either side of it, could see what was happening. Nobody would judge though. Multiple orgies a day was commonplace in the BNWO, especially for suburban white women. And it made your depleted balls tremble and tiny peepee grow. The coffee table was pushed over to the side. In its place was the center four-way of it all. Damarcus lying on his back with his huge arms around your mom’s neck and head, which was itself pushed between his huge pecs. His belly made her back arch as she lied on top of him. Damarcus’ 18 inch, 55 year old cock was absolutely destroying your mom’s anus. Both her butthole and her beloved bull’s cock were shining with what must’ve been lube, but it didn’t look like enough. When you weren’t feeling amazed about how black bulls could fuck for hours, you were amazed with how much a white girl could stretch just to take a BBC. While Mom was being assfucked by Damarcus below her, Julius was fucking her pussy and playing with her tits. Julius had a good 16 inches, not as lengthy or girthy as Damarcus, but he was fucking your mom but good. He made up for that too in youthful strength, because the fourth part of the 4-way was Abby, whose thick thighs and plump rump were held out by Julius’ massive arms. He was eating out his girlfriend, and in turn she had a steady flow of orgasmic juices pour onto mom’s belly from between her legs. Mom moaned loudly and squirted all over Julius’ thick black pubes. Her first orgasm of many for this orgy. Your worm was at maximum hardness. All of two inches. Behind them on the couch, there was another 3 of them sitting down, which it took a while to notice, since your transfixtion was totally on the center. On the far left is Max, who it seemed had permission from his wife to jerk off while she got eaten out in a foursome with you two’s mom and their bulls. Max’s little less than two inches (you’re very proud you’re bigger than your sister’s husband!) was jerked so hard it looked like his balls would slap against it. But of course, his scrotum was too tight and tiny for that. “Fuck ahhhhh,” moaned Abby. Her muscular ass quaked in Julius’ massive hands. They both looked like they were in total bliss. “I’m gonna fucking cum I’m gonnnnnnna nnnnnnnnng!” She yelled. Her legs stuck out totally straight, almost kicking you in the face, and, with her bull’s head still between her thighs, she came. Julius didn’t let her down after though. Her eyelids fluttered and lips shook. He just kept eating her out, without giving her a second to recover. And you knew your sister. She loved it. “H-hey, babe,” she rolled her head towards the couch to look at her hubby, who was still jerking his little dick on the couch, “Y-you don’t have you be a-ashamed. My family isn’t gonna mind if you touch yourself the way you love, cuckie d-darling.” Max whimpered. How pathetic, but you weren’t one to talk. “T-thank you babe,” he said. He scooted down in the chair. “J-julius b-babe, can you please tell m-my fucking loser brother to stop staring t-too?” she moaned as she drooled. Julius shot you a death glare. “S-sorry!” You insisted, jumping back. Plenty of bulls of your mom’s or big sisters’ have disciplined you in the past. It almost always involved a painful slap, or worse, punching your poor little balls, as if they weren’t already impotent enough. You look back over to the couch. There, Max had spread his legs and began to not only tug his tiny dick with two fingers, but also to rub his pink, smooth butthole with one finger. Abby giggled at that. Is that what her husband like? Playing with his whiteboi ass while his wife fucked bulls? T-that seemed so…. Gay! And you kinda wanted to do it too. Max closed his eyes and moaned as he fingered his butt and played with his clit. He was in his own fantasy world. As you stepped out of Mom’s, Damarcus’, Julius’, and Abby’s ways, you got to see who was on the couch besides Max. Right next to him was Jenny, who looked exhausted. Her smooth pussy was creampied again, and she was breathing heavily. Next to her was Jaylon, who looked tired and sweaty, but still pretty happy. That was probably because, between his spread, medium-brown legs, with their mouths on his big, smooth, uncut cock, were Katie and Lily, your two little sisters. His dick was wet and sticky, with a bit of cum still at the tip. Katie licked that up to show Lily how it was done. Lily smiled with wide, eager eyes. Then Katie spat it out onto your youngest sister’s mouth and they snowballed it. “Get fucked good?” you asked your twin, who was obviously uncomfortable with Max masturbating away next to her. “Yeah,” she said, “Right after breakfast. Mom was teasing us so he was all like ‘fuck it, I’ll show you,” she looked over at her boyfriend and held his hand. She looked at him, but he didn’t look back. She took her hand away. “Anyway.... Best fucking I’ve ever had. Made me cum 3 times in about 5 minutes.” “Wow,” you said. It felt good just to have a normal conversation with her. Even if it was about how she got fucked by that black dick, and it made you think of how you’ll never satisfy a girl with that tiny shrimp dick, or even fill her up with your few watery drops of cum. At least she wasn’t explicitly humiliating you. “C’mon, sit down.” she said. You stepped over her legs to sit inbetween her and Jaylon, but then she grabbed your wrist. “Nuh-uh, you’re sitting between me and him.” she said assertively. You sighed. You were really hoping not to have to sit next to Max rubbing his little whiteboi butthole, but no such luck. You just hoped nobody would ask about it. You sat down next to Jenny. In the corner, by the chairs by the TV stand closest to the stairs, Ellie was on her back getting fucked by Andre. Coral, ever the perverted one, was sitting on Ellie’s face, getting her pussy licked. You wondered how much Ellie resisted to that before she finally accepted a faceful of her big sister’s cunt. Meanwhile, Mary was eating Andre’s ass, and shyly fingered her pussy with two fingers. “Wow,” you breathed, “Can’t believe I missed this.” “Ah please bro,” she said to you with a cocksure smile, “Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?” You shrug. It isn’t took common to see Mary out. Especially rimming a guy. “Hey,” Jenny asked, “Why aren’t you jerking off?” You shrug again. “Tired I guess. My balls are kinda sore… I’ve already nutted eight times today.” Jenny’s eyes moved over to Jaylon, who blasted a fat, potent rope right on top of Katie’s silky-haired head. She looked a little sad, but then turned back to you. “Heh, little whiteboy can’t get it up huh?” She ruffled your hair. It pushed your head down. You felt so weak. “H-hey,” you protest. “Aww, you’re so damn cute!” “Hey baby,” asked Andre, “Want some of this?” You looked up and saw Andre turn around and get his massive black cock in Mary’s face, obviously offering it to her. Mary’s eyes were insanely wide. “N-no…” she whispered. “NO! I-it’s fine t-thanks. B-besides, I was just eating your ass..” At that pathetic passing up of some easy black dick, both Andre and Ellie laughed at the later’s poor twin sister. “W-whatever guys,” sniffled Mary. She got up and ran up to her room, still naked with her small tits bouncing. You felt bad, but knew if you tried to comfort her she would take it out on you crueler than even Ellie. “Anyways,” you said, breaking the tension. “I- uh- have some RSVPs to get.” You pulled out the paper and waved it around as you stood up and stepped over Mom and Damarcus’ legs. You left your twin sister in the dust too. But you were a weak whiteboy who couldn’t even stand up for himself after all. How could you get her to stand up for herself? Nobody looked any different as you made your departure known. You walked out to the door, got your shoes on your tiny little feet, and walked out.

#bbc #story #interracial

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dadvans · 7 years

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the ghost ship that didn’t carry us

egobang :: m :: game grumps :: arin wakes up in a parallel universe where he married dan instead of suzy.

(i’ve had a number of requests to repost this, since i pulled it from ao3 a few months ago! it was originally posted last april, and have been really heartened to hear how many people enjoyed it since it was taken down. so in honor of april fool’s day, my take on Wake Up Married:

It’s not like Arin’s never thought about it--him, Dan. Arin’s had a few dozen thousand very gay thoughts about Dan, because Dan is Dan. Dan’s not just unconventionally attractive, he’s hot, he’s scorching to such a degree that Arin would worry that if Dan actually got his mouth on Arin’s junk that all the ball hair would be singed off by sheer proximity. If Arin hadn’t met his soulmate at age fourteen, eyes locking across the crowded hall of an anime convention, he’d be the first to admit without any hesitation that Dan would probably have turned him totally, completely into a brunch-loving, pastel-wearing cock sucker. Dan would have full dibs on his butthole, and there’s no shame in knowing it.

But there’s a difference between Arin knowing he’d go ass over teakettle gay for Dan and actually doing the do. For one, he’s married. For two, well--well, he’s happily married. There isn’t really a three, except maybe Arin wouldn’t be willing to risk his two best friendships with his wife and his Danny just to see if he likes the taste of dick in his mouth or the feel of Dan’s curls between his fingers. He’s lucky enough to have what he has in life, and it would be beyond greedy to ask for anything more.

Which is why it is more than a little confusing when he wakes up naked in Dan’s bed.

“Dan? The fuck?” he says, taking in the naked tangle of their limbs and torsos and Dan’s morning wood heavy with piss rubbing against his thigh, before repeating with what Dan will later describe as grave vehemence, “the fuck!”

“Whassa matter?” Dan mumbles, rolling graciously away from him to paw at his nightstand for his phone. He turns it on to see the time and slams it back down with a side, pushing his face into his pillow. “Oh my God, Arin, it’s eight in the morning, go back to sleep.”

“Dude!” is all Arin can say, because dude, go back to sleep? Go back to nakedly being Dan’s little spoon with Dan’s dick snug against his asshole like a friendly neighbor stopping by to say hello?

“What?” Dan replies, voice still muffled as he looks up from his pillow. Arin winces as Dan puts a hand around wrist, touch too tender and genuine. “You’re freaking me out, dude, are you okay?”

“Dan,” Arin says very quietly, very serious, “we’re naked right now.”

Dan just continues to stare at him very concerned. “Did you hit your head? Are you brain damaged?”

“No, I--what?”

“You’re acting super weird,” Dan says, pushing himself up on an elbow. The hand that was encircling Arin’s wrist comes up so Dan can turn his face to look at him, thumb on his cheek, fingertips in his sideburns, the cool, sharp edge of a ring smooth against Arin’s jaw. And that’s something else that doesn’t seem right, as comforting as it feels.

“When did you get married?” Arin asks, nudging Dan’s hand away with his face to get a closer look at the ring, which is definitely a wedding band. Dan’s face contorts into something unreadable, and he shuts up as Arin holds his hand and traces over the thick silver of the ring. It looks so similar to his own. “Dan?”

“Uh, last year,” Dan replies, looking like Arin hit him, “to you, douchebag.”

And huh. Arin stares at him dumbly, not sure what else to say, and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s been a real wild ride for me too, baby,” Dan says, and then he leans forward and kisses the corner of Arin’s mouth and drops his hand and rolls back over into his pillow, the naked stretch of his shoulders facing Arin.

“But I can’t be married to you,” Arin thinks out loud, getting more and more confused by the second. Dan visibly tenses in front of him. “I mean, not that I would mind, I would totally be gay married to you if I wasn’t already married.”

“Okay, Arin, what the shit,” Dan says, rolling back over. “You’re really freaking me the fuck out right now.”

“You? You’re freaking me the fuck out! Is this some kind of weird prank? Look, man, you know I love you, you know if I went gay for anyone, it would be you, you would get me where I need to go. But this is really weird.”

“Went gay?” Dan repeats. “Arin, baby, you are like, the gayest gay I know. Do I need to take you to a hospital? Are you concussed?”

“No!” Arin says, feeling ridiculous trying to argue with his everything exposed, the sheets of Dan’s bed pooled around his thighs.

“Okay,” Dan says slowly. “Let’s try this: what year is it?”

“Twenty-sixteen,” Arin says, and Dan lets out a sigh.

“So far, so good. Uh--what’s my name?”

“Dan,” Arin replies, but it’s more exasperation than answer. “And my name’s Arin, and we are best friends, but in a heterosexual life partners kind of way, because I am married to a woman, dude. Suzy would not appreciate this.”

“I hate to break this to you, but there is nothing heterosexual about this,” Dan says, pushing a few stray locks of his awful bedhead out of his eyes and brushing them back too tight with stress. “And the state of California recognizes me as your only spouse.”

Arin’s had enough at this point. Dan is acting like a goddamn pod person, and the worst part is that the prank shouldn’t be malicious, because Arin really does love Dan in the only way he can, and he’s just as much of a grounding force in Arin’s life as Suzy is, and if things were different, well, Arin’s spent a few nights lying awake thinking what if, what if, what if. But it feels malicious, it feels like Dan’s trying to punish himself or the both of them, and he’s taking it uncomfortably far.

He shakes his head and shoves himself off the bed. “I need to get the fuck out of here. Where are my clothes?”

Dan’s quiet for a second. “In your dresser,” he says eventually.

Arin frowns at him, and then he takes another look around the room. It’s definitely Dan’s room, but there are subtle differences--Arin’s dresser, the one he’s had since he moved out of his parent’s house, is tucked in the corner with Dan’s, there’s a rug he doesn’t recognize under the bed against the hardwood, and a handful of photos featuring the two of them from nights that Arin remembers, but doesn’t remember happening like that are artfully hung and propped up in mismatched bookshelves that Arin recognizes as belonging to both of them.

“What,” he says, his voice weak with disbelief, “is going on.”

“Man, I’m just as confused as you,” Dan groans, burying his face in his hands. He’s never been a great actor, and changing the entire interior of his bedroom is taking a prank way, way, way too far, but Arin has no other explanation for it. He keeps waiting for Dan to crack, tell him, you win, I’m sorry, you should have seen your face, fucker, but Dan looks legitimately as lost as he is, and it feels like the floor is dropping out from under Arin’s feet.

“I need to get out of here,” Arin decides out loud, stumbling over to his dresser. When he opens the drawer he recognizes some of his clothes, but not everything. He blindly just pulls out the first of everything he can find, some graphic tee and boxers and well-worn pair of jeans, nearly tripping over himself out the room as he puts them on. “I need to wake up.”

Suzy finds Arin curled around an Iced Kyoto at Demitasse a little over an hour later. She rolls her eyes, putting her purse down at an empty chair near his table, and pulling out the one in front of him loudly to take a seat.

She looks different. Not in a bad way, just in an unfamiliar way; her body language isn’t necessarily wrong, it just doesn’t suggest the intimacy that he’s so used to sharing with her. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

“I haven’t had coffee yet,” she says, and she slips the drink out of his hand to take a sip.

“Well, we are in a coffee shop,” Arin says, looking over her shoulder suggestively at the coffee bar where she could, you know, order her own drink.

“Yeah, and I’m out of bed before noon on my day off, because Dan called me losing his shit, jerkass, so you’re buying me a drink.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, and hands her a wad of cash he found in the pocket of some well worn jeans that were in his size on the bedroom floor.

She doesn’t even buy coffee. She buys a hot chocolate with lavender in it with extra whip on the lid that she licks off. It’s cute when she does it, but he would sneer at anyone else.

“How’d you find me?” he asks her. He couldn’t find his phone before he left Dan’s, and he didn’t want to stick around long enough, too afraid some ugly truth would find him if he stayed there long enough.

“You always come here when you’re freaking out,” she says matter of factly, fastening the lid back onto the cup. “Anyway, Dan tells me you think we’re married.”

“Please,” he says, no, pleads, “don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she replies, meticulous eyebrow raised, taking a sip of her hot chocolate.

“C’mon,” he tries, “babe.”

“You’re acting weird,” she says. She’s smiling, but it’s the kind of smile that she has when Ross says something that shits over the line. “Are you and Dan fucking with me?”

“What?” It comes out like a laugh, a weak one, because he’s barely been awake for an hour but he feels exhausted already. She’s still smiling at him like she’s waiting for a punchline, so he wipes at his eye and rests his forehead against his knuckles. “No, I swear, you two are fucking with me. Just--how much did he pay you? Everyone? I’m assuming like, Barry and Ross and Brian are in on this too. Did you guys like, roofie me and move all our furniture to Barry and Dan’s while I was out?”

“Arin, I’m legit worried for you,” she says. She puts down her drink, and that’s how he knows that she’s serious. “Like? Barry and Dan’s? Why would my roommate live with your husband? Are you on something? Did you start drinking?”

“No,” he whines, and he realizes he sounds all of five years old when it comes out of his mouth. “I just--God, I swear, maybe I am going crazy. We met when I was fourteen, right?”

“Yeah,” she says.

“I asked you out.”

“Right,” she says. “We dated, and then you realized you were boy crazy like, eight months in, and we’ve been best friends ever since. Well, okay, there was like, that one month I wouldn’t talk to you, because we were in high school, and it was drama, but you know.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know any of this and it’s terrifying and jarring and awful.

“That’s not,” he tries, stops himself. “Suze, that’s not how I remember it. And it feels like a big fucking prank that you guys are hidden camera-ing me into, trying to make me believe--” he’s gesturing with his hands now, looking at the ceiling like the words he’s trying to find are written up there when Suzy sticks a phone in front of his face.

“You sent this to me the night you got married,” she says. On the small screen is a saved snapchat photo, taken somewhere dimly lit; Arin recognizes himself and Dan, open-mouthed smiles taking up half their pink, pixelated faces, looking off in different directions. They’re cupping their own faces like they’re silently shrieking, and Arin can see why--they’re showing off two identical wedding bands. Underneath in the grey window of text it says ELOPED MOTHERFUCKERS!!!!

“Shopped,” he says, even though the quality is so consistently bad, he’s not sure how. Suzy rolls her eyes.

“What do you want me to show you?” she says, pulling her phone back to her chest and flipping through it. “Your facebook? My facebook? Almost five years of Youtube videos where you slowly, disgustingly describe your and Dan’s love affair blossoming in TMI detail?”

“Yes!” he says, getting a few looks from other patrons of the coffee shop for being too loud and maybe making too many erratic gestures with his hands. He lowers his voice to a stage whisper and says again, “yes,” because everyone on their team is crazy but no one is possibly crazy enough to recreate every piece of content they’ve ever made.

“Fine,” she says, sliding the phone back over to him, “here.”

The screen is face up and paused toward the end of an old video of theirs: Banjo Kazooie. He bites the inside of his cheek and presses play.

“So I went on a date last night,” he hears himself say. He doesn’t rewatch his own videos too much, and this one is old, but he’s sure he never had this conversation before. And yet.

“Ooh,” replies Jon. “You gonna tell us about him .”

“No, ” he hears himself reply. “Okay yes. But no. He’s famous. ”

“Okay wait,” Jon says, “I know him and he’s not really famous. Only you think he’s famous.”

“No, dude, he’s totally famous, and totally hot--spoiler alert, totally giving it away right now--but I want to respect his privacy. Anyway, we went out to this karaoke place with his equally famous friend--"

“Equally not-so-famous,” Jon corrects, “and is it really a date if his friend is like, what, there to chaperone you? Are you twelve ?”

Arin presses pause.

“I don’t remember this,” he says, pushing the phone back to Suzy. “I mean, I do, but not like this.”

“Here, let me get another one,” she says. And she does. She pulls up multiple videos, pictures, things that would take days and days of editing and work they don’t have time for, and still wouldn’t necessarily be feasible to exist without Arin’s participation. There are pictures of him and Dan kissing, laughing into each other’s mouths, fingers clumsily locked together; every video that Suzy shows him from Game Grumps he remembers making, but they’re all wrong--Suzy is Not So Grump and Dan only shows up regularly on Steam Train, and, and, and,

“I’m going crazy,” Arin says, staring at the title screen for Date Grumps featuring him and Dan playing Super Mario Bros. 2 for a one-off episode. “You have to believe me, I remember this happening, but not in this order, or this way, it was--wasn’t like this. What the fuck is happening to me?”

He puts her phone down more delicately than he realized he was capable of and scrubs at his face with both hands, groaning. She takes her phone back and drags her chair around to his side of the table and wraps an arm around his shoulder. He leans into her instinctively, taking comfort in the way she still traces random patterns into his skin with her nails even in this bizarro universe.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” she says. She’s telling the truth.

“You’re supposed to say I’m dreaming,” he jokes. “You’re supposed to tell me I’m going to wake up any second now. I’m gonna wake up and you’re going to be there to comfort me and I’ll say I had this weird dream where I was married to Dan, and you’ll laugh and say ‘well, aren’t you?’ Because you make fun of us all the time for acting like it. You’re supposed to say ‘just kidding,’ because this is all a way too elaborate joke.”

“It’s not,” she says. “It scares me that you think it is. It scares Danny.”

“Babe,” he says again, and it means nothing because she’s not his Suzy, and he knows that. He pulls away from her to look at her, and she looks back. He’ll never get tired of looking at her. Not when she’s eighty. Not when she’s a thouand. “Suzy. What the fuck do I do?”

“I don’t know,” she replies. “Maybe get you to a doctor?”

“Fuck,” he says. “Yeah.”

Suzy drives him in his car to the hospital. Danny meets them in the emergency room lobby.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says, pulling Suzy into a huge hug, but not taking his eyes off of Arin.

“I don’t know,” Suzy says into his shoulder.

“I can hear you guys,” Arin says, pushing his hair behind his ears a little irritated. “Even if I’m brain damaged, I’m not like, a vegetable.”

They break apart and their mouths slant sideways in a similar unreadable look that probably comes from trying to smile and fail. Even if he doesn’t know this Dan and this Suzy, he still knows them at their core, knows how they forecast worries and fears even when they don’t realize they’re doing so.

“So you know,” he continues awkwardly, “maybe like, don’t talk like I’m not here. Whatever. Suzy if you want to go, you can take my car. We’ll get yours picked up later.”

“You sure?” she asks, and he nods, taking his keys out of his pocket and pressing them into her hand. She pulls him in and kisses him on the cheek, and turns to Danny to squeeze his hand before leaving.

That leaves Arin and Dan by themselves in the emergency room. Danny curls into himself, arms folding over his chest and hands under his armpits like he’s protecting something, no doubt himself.

“So,” he says to the tiles of the emergency room floor, “this is serious. You’re seriously--you don’t know--remember, fuck Arin, I don’t know what to say. Are you okay?”

Arin’s thought about it a lot since Suzy slid her phone across the table the first time, let himself get lost in the reality of his now on the car ride from the coffee shop to the hospital. He might be crazy, he thinks, or he might be stuck in a parallel timeline. He’s starting to genuinely believe it might be the second option.

“I think I’m okay,” he says slowly. “I think--okay, I didn’t want to say this when Suzy was here, because she thought I was going crazy, and I still think I’m going crazy, but maybe you’ll see where I’m coming from, or be able to suspend your belief: Dan, I think I’m from a parallel dimension.”

“What,” Dan says, “the fuck.”

“Yeah,” Arin says. He doesn’t know what else he has to offer.

“Arin, I wouldn’t be surprised if they found a tumor the size of a beach ball in your brain, you asshole,” Dan says, not unkindly, but maybe with a sad, scared edge as he gestures at Arin’s skull. He looks like he wants to get a hand around Arin’s face but doesn’t know how, or maybe like he used to know how but forgot. Arin can’t help but feel guilty.

“They might, but they won’t,” Arin protests, feeling weird about it. Somewhere, deep down, he knows this isn’t him losing it, this isn’t him experiencing some irreparable damage; it could be, very easily, but he’s convinced it isn’t. He’s convinced last night he went to bed with Suzy’s feet snug between his thighs and now he’s in a different world with a different Suzy and a different Dan who maybe had his feet there instead.

“Huh,” Dan says, his every inch trying not to hover around Arin. “You wanna tell me what they’re going to find?”

“I’ll be healthy,” Arin says, “and fine. It’ll be infuriating. You’re gonna leave with your head in your hands, man, and no explanation. And neither will I.”

“So I’m the crazy one,” Dan says, exasperated.

“No,” Arin says, “you’re--Dan, Jesus. Neither of us are crazy. Let’s get out of here and go back to your place and fucking hunker down or some shit and figure out what’s going on. I just guarantee we’re not going to figure out anything here.”

Dan still refuses to look at him. “Fine,” he says finally. “Let’s go home.”

The drive home is weird. It’s quiet, for one, and Dan reaches across the console almost immediately after starting the car to hold his hand without really thinking about it. Arin lets him. It’s a strange comfort and feels like something that could be routine with them, something that isn’t forced. But usually car rides with the two of them are louder, Arin in the passenger seat changing the song Dan’s got playing through his phone every forty-five seconds, Dan freestyling something dumb and awful over whatever lyrics are playing even when he doesn’t know the song at all. Arin’s too afraid to let go of Dan or even look at him, see his mouth in an unfamiliar, frustrated white line. The quiet lasts the entire ride.

“I feel like I have to run around to your door and carry you inside,” Dan says when they get back to his place and park the car.

“Please don’t,” Arin says, “I’ll break you.”

Dan laughs and closes his eyes, chin tilted toward the roof of the car. He gives Arin’s hand a squeeze before finally letting go. “Yeah, I like, it just feels like you’re dying.”

“God, I hope I’m not,” Arin replies. “That would make today suck a whole lot more. Not that being married to you sucks. It’s just, uh, unexpected.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Dan says. “That helps.”

“You’re welcome,” Arin says. “So, where do we start?”

“I don’t know. Where do you usually start when your husband wakes up with amnesia and a good decade of fake memories?” Dan asks. “Or, sorry, is a straight version of your husband from a parallel dimension.”

“Mostly straight,” Arin says. “I always thought I would probably go gay for you.”

“If you’re trying to be comforting, Arin, you’re not doing a great job,” Dan says, and then he unbuckles his seatbelt and slides out of the car.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, man!” Arin replies, following him. Dan throws his hands up in an exasperated shrug and goes inside without saying anything else.

Arin didn’t really take a look around earlier when he left to go get coffee and try to regain his wits, but when he walks back in he instantly sees how much is different. Dan’s house has always looked like he got all his furniture from street corners under a cardboard sign labeled FREE in black sharpie, but now Arin is realizing the couch and table and entertainment center are all different and more cohesive.

“You got new furniture,” he says out loud.

“Like three years ago,” Dan replies. He’s in the kitchen getting a can of seltzer water. “When you moved in. We spent a day playing house in IKEA until I thought they were going to kick us out for fornicating in one of the model bedrooms. Man, I would kill for a beer right now.”

“No shit,” Arin says. It sounds like something he and Dan would do if they were in fact together. It sounds like something they might do anyway.

“Yes shit,” Dan tells him. “So clearly we don’t even live together in your universe.”

“Nope,” Arin says. “I live with Suzy. You still live here, but with Barry. He’s your roommate.”

“I was worried you were going to say I was his boyfriend,” Dan says. “Not that I don’t love him, but eugh. Barry.”

“I would never let you do that to yourself. I love you too much,” Arin says. Dan laughs as he takes a sip of soda water, choking on it and getting the front of his shirt all wet. “Smooth.”

“Yeah, well, I never thought I’d have to seduce you again.” Dan wipes at his chest with a sigh. “I’m a little rusty. Tell me more. What else is different where you’re from?”

“Uh, well, you’re Not So Grump, not Suzy. I think your hair is a lot longer,” Arin says. He didn’t notice it with Dan’s bedhead this morning, but now he can see Dan’s hair is barely at his chin.

“You like it short,” Dan says.

“Yeah,” Arin admits. It’s like when Dan looks at him, he sees through him completely, and there’s something unsettling about it. “I do.”

“What else?” Dan prompts him, taking another drink of water. This time he doesn’t spill it all over himself. “How’d we meet?”

“I sent you a really embarrassing e-mail after Ross showed me your Ninja Sex Party stuff,” Arin says. He leans against the back of Dan’s couch, or Dan and his couch? It’s a nice brown leather, not the well-worn scratchy plaid one that’s probably older than Arin that Arin remembers. “You responded in kind. You were coming to Los Angeles to stay with your uncle, so we met up and got sushi.”

“Huh,” Dan says. “But I’m guessing in your universe you didn’t give me a blowjob in the sushi restaurant bathroom and keep me from getting to my uncle’s place for three days.”

“Wow, no I did not. Did I do that here?” Arin asks. “Man, gay me is kind of a slut.”

“Was a slut,” Dan corrects him, pushing himself out of the kitchen doorway and coming over to sit next to him. “I tamed you. You kind of tamed me too. We tamed each other.”

“You still manage to make that sound very sexual,” Arin says.

“Good.” Dan smiles like he’s proud.

“So that’s how we got together? Bathroom blowie at a sushi place?”

“It was a great blowjob,” Dan says. “Definitely in my Top Five. One through four are also you, just other times.”

“Wow, I was really worried there for a second,” Arin says, rolling his eyes. Dan elbows him in the side, and it feels good, it feels natural. “I’ve never even given a blowjob.”

“I find that painfully hard to believe,” Dan tells him, so genuine it hurts.

“Well thank you? I don’t know, I’ve just been with Suzy my whole life. There hasn’t really been room to uh, experiment,” he says.

“I don’t know what’s weirder,” Dan continues, “the fact that you, the beej king, have never given a blowjob, or that the longer we talk like this I’m actually starting to believe you’re a straight version of you from a parallel dimension.”

“Mostly straight,” Arin corrects again. “Like I said, I’ve never really had the chance to test that out.”

“Happy marriage then?” Dan asks. He doesn’t sound jealous, he just sounds like he wants to make sure Arin is okay, and something about that makes Arin’s chest feel tighter. He grabs the can of soda water out of Dan’s hand and takes a big sip.

“Yeah, honestly,” he says. “I don’t think I’d be human if I didn’t think of, you know, alternatives though.”

“Like what?” Dan asks, taking his water back. He leans in, shoulder-to-shoulder with Arin, and it’s comforting. “Like me?”

“Sure,” Arin says. “Yeah. Like you.”

“Well I gotta say, I’m proud that even in bizarro hetero you’s world, you would still probably go gay for me,” Dan says with a shit-eating grin.

“Who knows,” Arin says. “If I’m stuck here permanently it might actually happen. Regain my title as ‘beej king.’”

“God, I’m just imagining like, some Rocky training montage of you sucking me off until you’ve done it, you’ve become the master,” Dan says, and Arin laughs, because it feels more like a riff than a come on.

“Oh my God, with you singing Eye of the Tiger the entire time,” Arin replies through his laughter.

“ Yes ,” Dan says. “How did you know that was my number one sexual fantasy?”

“Because I know you, dude,” Arin says, and for a second he forgets that this is a different place, and a different Dan, who has a different relationship with a different Arin. “Even if you’re not my Dan, you know, I think I still know you.”

“God, you’re making this hard,” Dan says. “And weird.”

“What?” Arin asks. He grabs Dan’s soda water again, but Dan grabs his wrist.

“You, you know, not being you-you. I don’t know what to believe, I don’t know what’s real, so I don’t know what’s okay. I don’t know if I can kiss you, or tell you how crazy you sound--and God, I just want to kiss all the crazy things coming out of your mouth away right now, you know? And then, then there’s this part of me that’s like, well, he’s technically still your husband, so if he does blow you, is that cheating ?”

He lets Arin’s wrist go, but Arin still feels every inch of him like he’s branded himself there. Neither of them are laughing anymore.

“What if,” Arin says very suddenly, punctuating halfway through with a shaky sip of water, “what if this is God or something telling me I need to have a gay experience with you. What if that’s why I’m here. The multiverse needs me to have sex with you to maintain some kind of balance, but knows I can’t when I’m married to Suz.”

“Okay, Big Cat, you’re starting to sound kind of cuckoo bananas again,” Dan says firmly. “I’m telling you the truth because I love you.”

“No, I think I’m onto something here,” Arin protests.

“Baby, I think you might be on something, not onto something,” Dan says, and that’s when Arin puts the soda water down and forcefully kisses him.

The weird part is how easy it is. He’s always thought Dan would be a good kisser, but he didn’t expect kissing Dan to come so easily. He didn’t realize there was a difference between the two. But it’s all more comfortable than he imagined in his distant, pushed away fantasies, the drag of Dan’s scruff against his own, the milky sweetness of Dan’s mouth tasting better than the best dessert Arin’s ever had.

“Huh,” he says, pulling away. “That was nice.”

“That was weird,” Dan says, and then they’re kissing again, but hungrier this time, open mouths sloppy against each other and Dan pulls him in and over the back of the couch with a practiced ease, long, skinny limbs wrapping around Arin’s waist and weighing him down. “You don’t kiss like my husband, you kiss like a schoolboy.”

“Shut up,” Arin says, biting at his jaw.

“Make me,” Dan says with a laugh, kissing his temple.

“Fine,” Arin says and presses their mouths together again. He feels like he’s been waiting for something his entire life and didn’t know it was this until it happened. It feels good, and different, and wild. Dan writhes underneath him, but everywhere he settles, he fits perfectly against Arin. The sheer friction of him makes an honest to God moan slip out of Arin’s mouth.

“Easy tiger,” Dan says, mouth slipping away from his for second to speak. They’re both breathing heavily. Arin’s got his hands everywhere, but they both move up to Dan’s face so he can brush some stray curls out of Dan’s eyes. Dan’s got his fingers through the belt loops of Arin’s jeans in return, the only thing separating them and frankly keeping Arin from dry humping the fuck out of Dan.

“Sorry,” Arin says, panting a little.

“Don’t apologize, shit,” Dan replies, tilting his head to kiss the pad of Arin’s thumb on his face. “I’m just worried like, the multiverse wants you to have a gay experience, not come in your pants like a teenager.”

“Dude,” Arin says. “Wow. Kind of hurts, bro.”

“Again, just being honest because I care about you and your well-being,” Dan tells him, rolling his hips up a little in a way that make Arin’s eyes roll back in his head. “Don’t want you to be screwed by the multiverse because you didn’t have a complete gay experience.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Arin says.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Dan says. “I just--look, this is weird. Gotta use humor or else I’m going to go crazy actually believing you’re from another dimension and we have to bone to get you home. The premise seems a little suspicious.”

“Are you complaining?” Arin asks, pushing himself up to rest back on his heels, still straddling Dan against the couch.

“Mm, no, come back,” Dan says, making grabby hands for him. “Baby. You just seem a little, uh, compliant, I guess?”

“Look, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” Arin says, which is true. He’s seen Dan out of the corner of his eye a thousand and one times or more and thought, in a different life dot dot dot, let his thoughts trail off there and not entertained them further. “It’s not like, a gay crisis or anything, it never had anything to do with me being gay or straight. Just like, I knew if I had the opportunity with you, I probably would have taken it. No shame in admitting it.”

“I’m flattered,” Dan says, “now come back down here.”

“I just poured my heart out to you, man. Some real deep digging and you just want to make out more,” Arin replies, swatting at the hand Dan has curled in his t-shirt.

“I wanna do more than make out,” Dan says. “C’mere, let me show you.”

“God help me,” Arin says, and then he does. He gets back down on his elbows and swoops in to kiss Dan again.

“No one can help you now,” Dan says into his mouth. His hands leave Arin’s belt loops and travel up and under his shirt, fingers tracing patterns into the soft of his stomach, bitten down nails catching in the hair at his navel. “You’re mine.”

“Yeah okay,” Arin concedes. Dan knows exactly where to touch him, knows how to slowly build him up and tease him. He almost feels guilty not knowing how to touch Dan in return. He tells Dan. He says, “it just seems unfair.”

“Nah,” Dan says, rocking against him again, feeling where he’s undeniably hard against Dan’s thigh. “It’s fun. Like the first time all over again. Here, let me--”

He pushes against Arin’s chest, fingertips grazing Arin’s nipples as he coaxes him back until Arin is underneath him instead.

“Fuck,” Arin says as Dan drags a palm up the hard length of him, still sensitive through the denim and cotton.

“Yeah?” Dan says, looking down at him, face asking a much more complicated question.

“Yeah,” Arin agrees, because he knows what Dan is asking, and it’s something he hasn’t let himself think about for years and years. Dan smiles to himself like he’s won a prize and leans in to kiss Arin one more time while thumbing open the button of his jeans.

“Promise me one thing,” Dan says, kissing away from his mouth, lips traveling down the side of Arin’s neck, the collar of his t-shirt, the meat of his chest. “You’ll tell me when you’re getting close.”

Arin already feels close, but he doesn’t dare say so out loud. He just nods, breathing shakily as Dan continues to work his way down. Dan manages to get Arin’s jeans around his thighs in three rough tugs, Arin shimmying his hips a little to help. When Dan tugs down his briefs, his dick springs out hard and eager.

“Hey there,” Dan greets his dick, which is so fucking surreal and wonderful, but then Dan is taking the head into his mouth, and it’s something altogether different. Arin doesn’t have words for the way Dan feels or looks, eyes closed, nursing the tip of him.

“Gnngh,” he tries, and fails. Dan hums around his length pleased, and continues to suckle where Arin’s most sensitive until Arin feels like he’s unraveling from his balls and up. He tries to ground himself by digging his fingers into Dan’s hair, lacing between his curls, but ends up just tugging at Dan rough and thrusting deep into his mouth. “Fuck, Danny.”

Dan responds by lapping up his dick like a tide coming in, his tongue licking up the underside of him in hot, wet waves. He looks so serious, eyes pinched shut, hand stroking Arin from the base up to greet his mouth, thick with spit. Arin’s toes are curling and he realizes he’s still wearing his shoes, distantly.

Dan’s mouth pops off his dick with a slick noise and he kisses the soft patch of skin where Arin’s dick and balls meet. “You always taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Jesus,” Arin says. “That’s it, Dan, too much, you’re gonna make me--”

“Not yet,” Dan says, taking his hand off Arin’s junk and kissing lower, sucking a bruise into the inside of Arin’s thigh above the band of his jeans. “Need you to come in me.”

“What,” Arin says, brain muddled with need.

“You heard me,” Dan says. He crawls up Arin’s chest to kiss the corner of his mouth the same way he did when Arin woke up this morning. “Need you to come in me. Gotta have the full experience, right, babe?”

“Fuck.” Arin can barely keep himself from coming messily all over the both of them right now. “Sure. Why not.”

“That’s the spirit,” Dan says. Arin takes the brief pause, Dan pushing himself up to tower over him, to kick his shoes off at least.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He’s proud he can even get the words out, it seems so unreal, too good.

“I’m a little old-fashioned,” Dan replies, leaning back long enough to take his own shirt off and throw it to the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could move this to the bedroom, but you know, if we don’t make it that far it’s not like I’m going to complain.”

“Mm, that’s like fifty feet away,” Arin complains. “Which is fifty feet too far.”

“I believe in you, Big Cat,” Dan says, sounding so fucking tender it guts him completely.

“Fine,” he says, pushing himself up to press a kiss of his own to Dan’s collarbone, take an experimental bite at his nipple. “Challenge accepted.”

“That’s my boy,” Dan says, clearly pleased, breath hitching a bit when Arin lets his tongue flick over the nipple caught between his teeth. “If you keep doing that though, huh.”

“Sorry,” Arin mumbles, even though he’s not sorry in the slightest. He’s blindly working at Dan’s zip now, fumbling to get his jeans down. Dan helps him, but stops his hands when Arin tries to grab his junk.

“What happened to moving this to the bedroom?” Dan doesn’t whine, but it’s close. He pushes himself away from Arin and off the couch. “Catch me if you can, motherfucker.”

It’s harder done than said, what with both of them sporting boners and Arin still with the elastic of his briefs and yoke of his jeans taut around his thighs. He pulls his underwear up and jeans down and follows after Dan, catching him in the mouth of the hallway and pinning him against a wall.

“Always wondered what this would be like,” he admits, hands on Dan’s bony waist, licking a stripe up the long curve of Dan’s neck. “You, me, this.”

“As good as you imagined?” Dan asks hopefully. He strokes back Arin’s bangs, nails rough against his scalp.

“Better,” Arin says, not willing to say he was never brave enough to imagine this out of fear he would want it too much. Dan finally lets him cop a feel, hand cupping his balls and sliding up to experimentally feel him out. “God, you’re big.”

“Fun story: the first time you blew me, you looked up at me in that bathroom and said, ‘my, what a big dick you have.’ I called you red riding hood for like, a year after,” Dan says, grin so big it looks like his face is about to split in half.

“I didn’t,” Arin protests, unknowing, embarrassed for his other self.

“You totally did, and it was amazing,” Dan says. Arin kisses him again because he can’t not, and starts dragging him down the hallway by his hips. They stumble back into the bedroom and Dan pushes him off to throw himself on the bed. “How do you want me?”

“Uh,” Arin says. He has no idea. The idea of fucking Dan face-to-face kind of scares him on an intimate level though, the reality of it, how undeniable it would be.

“How about,” Dan says, rolling onto his stomach, “you get the lube out of the night stand while I stick my sweet, sweet ass in the air, and you take care of me however you see fit.”

It’s an easy out, and Arin takes it. He smacks Dan’s ass and then gives the red handprint a kiss, before shifting over to the nightstand. In his place with Suzy, they always keep the sex stuff in the top drawer, so that’s where he looks first.

“Bingo,” he says, opening the drawer and finding the lube on the first try. He uncaps it and greases up his dick with it, before taking a little more to slide up Dan’s taint to his hole, up in the air and inviting. “You like it when I fuck you?”

“Like it?” Dan’s voice is muffled where his face is half pressed into the bedspread underneath him. “Fucking love it, bro, love your dick, it’s like a complete breakfast, can’t start my day without it.”

“God,” Arin says, eyes rolling to the ceiling to ground himself as he slides his dick up and down the crease of Dan’s ass. He plans on experimentally pushing in slow and shallow, but Dan is looser than he expects and he ends up balls deep in a handful of seconds. “Fuck. You’re a fucking slut, Dan.”

“I’m your fucking slut,” Dan corrects him. “Now fuck me already.”

“I’m trying!” Arin says, and Dan laughs underneath him.

“Try harder, shithead,” and Arin pulls out to near the tip before snapping his hips back in, making Dan gasp and curl his fingers into the sheets. “There we go, goddamn, fuck me, Arin, fuck me just like that.”

Dan repeats the movement, slowly withdrawing and then fucking into him hard; he rolls out of Dan like molasses unfolding and then thrusts gut-punchingly hard and Dan lets out an animalistic noise with each movement.

“You fucking monster,” Dan says. “Teasing me like this, you goddamn piece of shit, I can’t believe.”

“You love it,” Arin says, because he can tell. Every inch of Dan is moving to get more of Arin inside him, to get more of Arin against him, and he’s still smiling up to his ears with a dick in his ass.

“Yeah baby,” Dan says, so genuine and fond, “you know I do.”

It doesn’t take much more than that. Arin speeds his thrusts up until he’s smashing his hips against Dan’s ass erratically, uncontrollably, desperately wanting to get off until he does. Dan comes seconds after him, laughing.

“God,” Arin says, forehead pressed into the sweaty stretch of skin between Dan’s shoulderblades. His dick is still pulsing out come as Dan’s muscles tighten around him, coming into the sheets. “I needed that a lot more than I thought I did.”

“Felt good,” Dan agrees, sex dumb and unwound beneath him. “So good.”

Arin pulls out of him and they both gasp at the point of disconnect, and Arin rolls next to him on the bed. “That was stupid, how good that was.”

“Another fuck well done,” Dan tells him, closing his eyes and snuggling in, nosing at his neck.

“Good job us,” Arin says. They lazily high five, naked legs sticky and tangling together.

“That had like, the energy of first time sex and just got married sex all rolled into one,” Dan says. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Arin says. “Apparently we got eloped?”

He’s been thinking about it since he saw the picture on Suzy’s phone: ELOPED MOTHERFUCKERS . After proposing to Suzy it took two stressful years of planning their ceremony, figuring out every piece of the event down to the second. He wouldn’t trade it for anything, as it was the best day of his life, and all the stress was worth it to have the most fun, flaw free wedding in the world. But he still wonders about how it could have been different, how here it apparently was.

“We did get eloped,” Dan confirms, wriggling in closer and rolling around so Arin’s spooning him. “We had a weekend off. You looked at me, said ‘we should just fucking do it.’ I knew exactly what you meant. We drove up to Vegas with Ross as our witness and did the whole Elvis Presley thing in a fifty dollar chapel. You convinced me to spend a few extra hundred to get like, commemorative plates that we sent to our friends and family, and then we went on a bunch of rides on the stratosphere to try and get Ross to puke.”

“Did he?” Arin asks a little too excitedly.

“No,” Danny says, “you almost did though, Jesus. The internet went crazy. But we were too busy holding hands in a lazy river at the New York, New York to really give a fuck. I think we stayed for a week.”

“That sounds--” Arin yawns, closes his eyes, and is this it? “That sounds amazing. Incredible.”

“It was,” Danny says. “You were. Are.”

“Gee bud,” Arin says, and he can’t help the way he’s smiling, the way he feels so complete knowing these things, this history that doesn’t necessarily belong to him, but he’s always wondered and assumed and now he knows. “Thanks. You’re not half bad yourself.”

“I know,” Dan says, and he rolls over to kiss Arin, slow and sweet, mouths dragging together, tongues lapping into each other like it’s the last time. It probably is, Arin reflects sleepily.

“Tell me another story,” he says, wanting to wear Dan’s voice like a blanket, a comfort over his entire body. “About us.”

“Okay,” Dan says. Arin falls asleep to the sound of his voice, the sound of his story about the two of them almost getting caught by hotel service on a trip up to Portland. Dan has a way with words, he puts life in them, and for the last few seconds before Arin is dragged into sleep, he feels like he could have been there.

“I’ll never know and neither will you of the life you don’t choose. We’ll only know that whatever that sister life was, it was important and beautiful and not ours. It was the ghost ship that didn’t carry us. There’s nothing to do but salute it from the shore.”

(post script)

Arin shoots up awake with a gasp. His chest is heaving and his skin is covered in rivulets of cold sweat and he anxiously pats around the bed next to him in the dark, looking for the familiar form of--

“Dan,” he says, shaking Dan’s bony shoulder when he finds it, “ Dan .”

“Mzzzzuh?” Dan says, eyes still closed, burrowing his face into the meat of Arin’s hip. “Shit, Arin, you can’t keep doing this, I swear to God, I need sleep.”

“Jesus Tits, Dan, Christ. I’m sorry, I had the worst, uh, this weird dream that was so fucking vivid.”

Dan is quiet for a second, and Arin is pretty sure he’s already gone back to sleep, but then he pushes himself up and kisses Arin’s shoulder. “Was it about you switching bodies with a mostly straight version of yourself?”

“Oh my God,” Arin says. “Yes.”

“Babe, that totally happened,” Dan says, scrubbing at his face. “He was here. It was super weird. I may have given him a blowjob and let him fuck me for science.”

“Dan,” Arin says again, except this time it sounds like he might cry.

“You okay?”

“Dan, I ate puss. In this parallel dimension, I was married to Suzy. And I, I, I didn’t know what to do, I thought I was stuck there. I got panicked, Danny, and I ate her out.”

Dan is quiet for another second, and the second feels like five million, it feels absolutely damning, but then Dan starts laughing uncontrollably. He presses his brow against Arin’s collarbone where he fits perfectly and he shakes with laughter. Arin can feel his tears against his chest.

“Fuck,” Dan finally wheezes out, “I can’t believe you went muff diving. That’s incredible. How was it?”

“Wet,” Arin answers honestly. “It was so wet and so terrifying, Dan, I was so fucking lost. It was like someone gave me a map to a cave but all the directions were in Chinese and backwards, and it was so scary.”

“Ssh, baby, it’s okay,” Dan says, a little giggle still tickling the back of his throat when he speaks. “You’re back home. Suzy’s vagina can’t hurt you anymore. I’ll protect you.”

“You always do,” Arin says.

#game grumps #egobang #polygrumps #arin hanson #dan avidan

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