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How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 01

By: DaveMate



It's not because I am under-endowed or anything. I can hold my own in that department, of which, back then, I got plenty of practice. But I hated showering after rugby. It may have been my conservative upbringing. I never even saw my older brother naked, despite sharing a bedroom with him. We were taught to wear undies at all times, even under our pyjamas as we slept, and we only ever changed them when we bathed.

Once, when I was seven, I was in the bath and desperately needed to pee. I ran out into the hallway completely naked, on my way to the toilet in the next room. My father caught me, grabbed me by the arm, and spanked me square on my bare butt. 'Don't let me ever see you like that again,' he shouted. It was the only time he ever hit me. I never understood what I'd done wrong.

Having said all that, he was a good man. A no nonsense, hard working dairy farmer from the sticks north of Wellington, just like his father before him, and where I was raised. He wanted nothing but the best for us. Trouble was the only way he knew of achieving this was to work hard, be stoic and never show your penis. It was the way back then.

The other thing about being a farm boy in New Zealand was the rugby. We all played it. Luckily I happened to be quite good at it, even making representative teams. I liked it most for the friendships and sense of belonging. Unfortunately, it also meant showering together, naked. In fact, I tried not to shower after the game at all, if I could help it. A little bit of mud never did anyone any harm. Don't get me wrong. I loved seeing other guys naked. That was the problem.

Living out in the country has other drawbacks. There's nothing much to do, apart from helping out on the farm, playing rugby and taking a girl out to a local dance in a pickup truck, with a crate of beer rattling in the back. I'd done all that already. That's mostly why I moved to the big city lights of Wellington, New Zealand's capital city, at the age of twenty two. It was about time.

I found an apartment, enrolled at University and trained with my new rugby team, all in the space of a week. After the first game, I was just pleased I had not made a laughing stock of myself. Sure, I was good, but all the moves seemed to unfold at twice the speed I was used to. I needn't have worried. I knew I had played well when a number of teammates tapped me on the bum as I walked off the field, the ultimate of compliments for the big city boys, as long as there's nothing sexual in it, of course. Nothing like that ever happened with my old team. People just played for the fun of it, out in the country. Besides, a tap on the bum might have been considered gay, and no butch country boy wants that label.

I had to admit, scoring the winning try was no fluke. I knew exactly what I was doing. I sat on the bench in the corner of the changing room, comparatively reserved. Quiet in my contentment for my first city game. The mood was more self-congratulatory than I was used to, more boisterous, more noisy. Although the smells were familiar. That strange mixture of menthol skin linament and fresh male sweat, which strengthened every time a teammate removed an item of their playing kit. Then it waned when another exited naked, through the shower room doorway. By the time I bent over and slipped off my boots, the showers were already in full steam.

Suddenly, I saw the outstretched hand, in my peripheral vision, out of the top of my eyes. I glanced up towards the guys midriff, and then further up to his face, and then back down to his abdomen. "Nice game Jeff," he said. It was Gary Williamson, the team captain.

It was the fright of looking up and being confronted by Gary's flaccid junk, at eye level, just hanging there innocuously, inches away, that almost made me say something I might regret. Hanging there is a perfect turn of phrase. Boy did it hang. Like the trunk of an elephant. I turned my eyes away from his sizable genitalia and stood, still in my complete playing kit, wiping my hands down the sides of my dirty shorts before pushing out my limp right hand towards him. I placed it in Gary's, as I was invited to do and I felt his firm grip, shaking his hand tentatively.

I guess you could say that Gary was the team hunk. Now I knew why, having seen him from a close-up perspective, as nature intended. At least I could turn my head forward now that we were both standing. Gary's junk didn't seem anywhere near as daunting from there. 

"Thanks Gary," I said nervously.

"I was impressed," he added.

I withdrew my hand and shrugged my shoulders bashfully.

"I didn't realise you were that good a player," he said. "They breed them good up there in Oaksville then? Good farming stock, I suppose eh?" He patted my back heartily. "I'll tell you what. Pop into the showers with the lads. Get cleaned up. Then we'll drop into the clubrooms for a beer. You'll have the chicks eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. I'll introduce you to some of them, if you like."

"Chicks?," I asked.

"Haha, you country lads, you're all the same. Yea, you know, females, women."

"Sure," I replied, hesitantly. I had hardly managed to string two words together so far. My lack of enthusiasm for the idea probably stuck out like a sore thumb.

"No need to be nervous. Our chicks are a friendly bunch. I'll catch you in the showers," Gary added, smiling broadly, before turning his back and walking through the shower doorway.

I sat myself back down on the bench and removed my socks at a dawdles pace.

"You coming to the showers mate?" Another naked teammate sat down beside me and planted his hand on my dirt covered knee. "You'd better get your skates on."

"Sure. In a minute," I replied, smiling awkwardly at him, careful to avoid another eyeful of male genitalia. "Save me some hot water?"

"Should be enough hot water. There's some hot tubs in there too. Good game," he said as he slapped my thigh, in a congratulatory way, and stood before walking to the showers to join the others.

Just brilliant, I thought. If anything should lead to an embarrassing erection, it will be a heap of soaped up guys writhing around naked in a hot tub. I was lagging way behind, the last person left in the changing room, and I was still completely clothed in my playing gear.

I pulled my soiled rugby jersey over my head and chucked it into my open bag on the floor beside me. Then I sat contemplating for a bit. There sure was a racket coming from the showers. I could make out a version of We are the Champions, but it bore little resemblance to the one sung by Freddie Mercury. Occasionally, a chorus of laughter drowned out the attempt at a mass singalong. I rummaged in my bag and pulled out my clothes, which were folded neatly inside a plastic bag. I didn't seem that dirty. A bit of mud on my knees perhaps, but nothing much else to write home about. The clothes would hide most of it anyway, I decided. And I've never been one to sweat much during the game.

I held my black dress pants aloft at the waist and gave them a shake, hoping to smooth out any creases. Then I laid them out carefully on the seat beside me. Remaining seated, I slid off my dirty rugby shorts and threw them on top of the already discarded jersey in my bag. Sitting there in my underpants was about as naked as I was willing to get today. I hardly knew any of these guys after all.

As I stood, I pulled my pants up my legs and fastened the button around my waist. It was then I became aware of the sound of the cascading water in the shower area. Through the comparative silence came a shouting voice.

"Hey whizkid, Jeff mate. Get your arse over here into the showers. Come on man. Don't you like us mate?"

I instantly recognised the voice, if only for the addition of the word mate to the end of my name. It was that cheeky guy called Matt. The guy who had just played eighty minutes of rugby beside me in the centres.

"Hurry up mate," Matt joked. "We don't bite. Are you scared we're going to fuck you in the arse or something man?"

"Yea, come on Jeff. Matt's just dying for a piece of your arse. He sure as hell doesn't get any action from any of the chicks," yelled someone else, to uproarious laughter. "Don't worry, it won't hurt, Matt's got a small one anyway."

"Shit." I said quietly to myself. This isn't going to work. I reluctantly unfastened the button of my pants and pushed them down my legs, before removing them and throwing them untidily back in my bag.

. . . . .

It was just as expected. I stood briefly at the doorway to the showers, assessing the layout. There were no petitions ... no curtains ... no privacy. Just one giant open bathroom, with a heap of shower nozzles spread down three of the walls, and a large tub in one corner. Pretty much everything rugby players expect from their shower room. It was steamy, like a fog on a cold winters morning, especially looking from the door. Everyone was naked. I knew that much.

Suddenly, it seemed, I was the centre of attention. The talking became whispers. Guys turned their heads in my direction, and they squinted through the jets of water and streams of shampoo falling down their faces. Then their eyes followed me as I walked towards a vacant shower I had spotted at the very end of a side wall. I stood myself at the shower, facing the wall, and I placed my hand on the tap.

It was Gary Williamson who broke the ice. "You've gotta force that tap Jeff if you want hot water. Push it around hard. The showers are hopeless here. The club's trying to save money. You know, funds are tight." he said.

As I opened the faucet and the shower sparked into life, I heard some laughter behind me, across the way. I ignored it at first. I held my arms out in front of me and felt the temperature of the water with my hands. The sniggering continued.

"Hey mate. What are you doing?"

I turned my head. I could sense my teammate's eyes, as if I was the headline act at a circus. The voice was Matt's.

"What? Ah, you talking to me?," I asked. "What do you mean?"

"What are you doing?," repeated Matt. "You've still got your undies on mate."

I didn't know what to do, how to react. I was speechless. So was everyone else, it seemed. There was silence.

"Shut up Matt. It doesn't matter," said someone, attempting to smooth over an awkward moment.

"But why is he showering with his undies on?," Matt said incredulously. "That's just weird man."

Someone else tried to make a joke of it. "It's a good idea Matt. You can have a shower and clean your undies at the same time. It saves water," he said to laughter. "Funds are tight, remember?"

Matt seemed adamant. "He might get clean undies mate, but he'll have a dirty arse. How can you clean your arse while you're wearing undies?" he said. "It's just crazy."

"Matt, you just worry about your own arse," said someone else. "Why should Jeff listen to you? He looks quite capable of taking care of his arse. Since when did you become the arse police? Matt, turn around for a minute. Let us look at your arse. Is it clean? Who here wants to volunteer to check Matt's arse?"

If I was under the influence of alcohol or something, I may have put my hand up at this point. He was good looking, after all. I closed my eyes, feeling the warm jets of water on my body, and tried to shut the conversation out. 

"Mate, it's just that I've never heard of anyone having a shower in their undies before," said Matt, resigned to the fact that everyone else appeared against him.

Gary chipped in. "I'll tell you what Matt. If ever you should become as good a player as Jeff, you can shower in your underpants too. Then I'll personally come and clean your arse for you."

I laughed to myself, with my eyes shut and I began to relax. I gently rubbed my face, then my chest and arms repeatedly, trying to forget my surroundings. I was awoken from my shallow daydream by a voice.

"Hey mate," the voice said.

I opened my eyes. I could see no one. I looked to the side, and then over my shoulder. There was just one lonely, naked figure, standing under a shower, across the room. It was Matt.

"Hey mate," repeated Matt. "Do you mind if I come over there and use the shower next to you man? There's no one to talk to over on this side."

I didn't even have time to answer. Matt was soaking himself in the adjacent shower before I could open my mouth. "I was just about to finish up actually Matt," I said belatedly.

"Don't go mate. I want to talk you." Matt stood side on to the wall to face me, as the water tumbled down upon his nudity. "Where are you from?," he asked.

It seemed rude to look at his naked flesh from so close, but it seemed even ruder not to face him as he was talking. I turned my body. We stood face to face. I looked into his eyes as he spoke, very keen to at least glance down at his manhood, but I knew he was watching. I could sense his dark pubic hair down below. I pretended to wash my face with my bare hands, parting my fingers so that I could briefly glance down through them. 

"I'm from up north," I answered eventually.

"Oh yeah? Me too. Whereabouts?"

"Oaksville, up by Masterton. You?," I asked.

"Really mate? Oaksville eh? I'm from Waitohe, just up the road from there."

"Oh, cool. I know the place. Small world eh?"

"What does your old man do there then?," he asked.

"Farmer. My father milks cows. As well as keeping the fences in order and stuff. A general jack of all trades type. You?"

"Um, me? What mate?"

"Your father. What does he do then?"

"Oh, he's a wanker," said Matt.

"A what?"

"My old man, he's a wanker. A wanker mate."

"A wanker?"

"Yeah, a professional wanker."

I laughed. "A wanker? What do you mean, a wanker?"

"A wanker mate. You know ... a jerk."

"Oh, a wanker. I think I get the picture. How could your family afford to live off such a low wage?," I joked.

Matt laughed. "That was quite funny. So you're a bit of a comedian then? That'll go down well around here. What do you do then?"

"Computer programmer," I replied. "Well, I hope to be. I'm studying."

"Man, a brainbox too. You're the complete package!"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," I said sheepishly.

"Brainy, sporty, funny ... good looking." Matt picked up a bottle of shampoo from a shelf braced to the wall. He squeezed some of the liquid onto one hand and applied it to his hair. "Shampoo?," he asked, offering it to me.

"No thanks. It's ok. I washed my hair this morning" I lied.

Naked with both hands lifted to his head, Matt looked a great specimen of healthy masculinity. Everything looked so well toned and symmetrical, and yet not overly muscled. Looking into his eyes helped me appreciate just how handsome he actually was. They were eyes that smiled mischievously at you, even moreso with his hair lathered up and water flooding down his face, causing his eyes to flutter. It wasn't until you consciously thought about it that you noticed the short, black stubble covering his jawline.

We watched each other, eye to eye, as he lathered. Some shampoo dribbled down into his eye. He squinted and wiped it with the back of his wrist and then rinsed it under the water. Suddenly Matt's eyes took a dart downwards, then they paused briefly and shot back up. "You're circumcised," he said.

"What?," I stammered. I wasn't sure I heard correctly. 

"Mate, your circumcised. You don't have a foreskin. Those undies don't leave much to the imagination when they're wet. You may as well take them off. It's easier that way. No one's going to look."

"I'm not taking my underpants off Matt," I said, pretending to laugh.

"Why not?"

"I'm quite happy leaving them on thanks."

Matt continued to lather. I noticed he made two or three more glances downwards. Then for a few seconds he gazed ahead in thought.

"I'm not," he said.

"You're not what?," I asked.

"Circumcised. I'm not circumcised mate."

"Oh ... aren't you?"

"Nah mate. Can't you tell?"

I couldn't believe it. Nothing like this ever happened out in the country. My heart skipped a beat. Matt had invited me to examine his penis. I wasn't sure what to do. My instincts told me to look, so I did. Eagerly, I glanced down towards his genitalia. Just as I did so, Matt's cock bounced as he made a step to one side. Then he stood under the falling water from his shower, in order to wash away the shampoo from his hair. I looked away momentarily, before remembering that he wanted me to look. When I looked back, his cock bounced again. So did his balls. His scrotum hung low, warmed by the heat of the shower. A stream of soapy water cascaded down his front, over his abdomen, through his black pubes, down the length of his generous, uncut penis, covering it with slippery, white foam, and then over his dangling ball sac and down his thighs.

I looked back up to Matt's waiting and smiling eyes. "You're not either," I said, trying not to sound as though what I had just done was anything out of the ordinary. "You're right, You're not circumcised."

I could feel it happening, almost immediately. It started with that pleasant feeling in my groin. And then the tightening, which became more and more intense with every second. My soaked briefs started pushing outwards. The beginnings of a bulge.

Matt's glances at the front of my underpants became more of a stare. Then I turned my back on him as the feelings intensified. I tried to secretly rearrange everything, straightening my dick upwards and sidewards, towards my hip, so it had more space in which to lengthen. I wondered whether Matt had noticed anything. The answer came quickly.

"You're going to have to take them off now mate. Otherwise it will only make it worse. There's nothing worse than having a stiffy inside a small pair of wet undies, and you'll have bugger all chance of getting rid of it if you keep them on."

Of course, Matt was grinning. At least, I presumed he was. "Fuck," I said, out loud. I reached my arm out to the side, and turned off my shower. Then I cupped my hands over the front of my briefs and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?," asked Matt.

I stopped, and without turning to face him, my hands still cupping my genitalia, I said "To get changed."

"But there's still guys in there."

"Shit. What shall I do then?," I asked, in a panic. 

"Turn around. Let me have a look. I'll see if anyone will notice anything," said Matt.

"No! I'm not showing you that," I said, incredulously.

"Do you think I've never seen another guys erection before? How do I know whether anyone will notice it if you won't show me mate?"

"You'll just have to take my word for it," I said. "They'll notice."

"What exactly is happening then? Describe it for me. That might work. Is it popping out the top of your briefs?," he asked.

I uncupped my hand and looked down. "Almost," I replied. "It's mainly to the side though."

"So it's poking out of the leg hole then?"

I looked over my shoulder. Matt faced my back and lathered his chest liberally with soap. "Yeah," I said, turning my head back away from him. "Oh shit, a little, just the top bit." 

"The top bit?"

"You know ... the head, the glans, the tip of my penis, oh shit, this is ridiculous."

"How much of the head, exactly, is poking out then?," he asked.

"Probably about half. They'll definitely notice it."

"Can you try pushing it back up into your undies so that it's not poking out?," suggested Matt. "What happens if you try that?"

"Yea. I've tried that. It doesn't work. There's not enough material."

"Man. You must have a big one. Either that or very small undies. How big is it?"

"Big enough. Shit, this is embarrassing," I mumbled.

"Try pushing it so that it's straight up in your undies, instead of to the side. How does that go?," he asked.

"No good," I said, after attempting Matt's suggestion. "It puts too much strain on lower down."


How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 01



"You mean on your balls man?"

"Yea. Thats exactly what I mean."

"Oh, well what happens if you make it so there is no strain on your balls? Are you able to do that?"

"About half of it pokes out the top."

"What do you mean mate? Half of the head or half of the whole thing?"

"Half of the whole thing. Oh shit!"

"Half of your whole cock? Man! I guess they would notice that," said Matt. "Next time, if you really insist on wearing your undies in the shower, you should think about boxers. Then your erection will have more room."

"Oh fuck. What shall I do?," I pleaded.

"Well, if it was me mate," he said, "I would take off my undies to relieve the pressure and then wait for it to disappear. From where I'm standing, it pretty much looks as though you're naked anyway. Those wet undies are sticking to your arse. I can see the outline of your butt cheeks mate. So you might as well take them off. I'm sure that would help. Look, there's no one in here but us, and I certainly won't say anything. You've already seen my arse."

"No I haven't," I protested.

"I find that hard to believe. Really mate?," he said.

"No. It's rude to do that, isn't it?"

"Mate, turn around. Look at my arse. Then take off your undies. That'll make us even because we would have seen each others arses."

"No, I don't want to do that, while I'm like this. I think it might make it worse." I said.

"How can it make it any worse than it already is mate?," Matt argued. 

"This is ridiculous," I said.

"It's because your undies are wet, that's why it happened. You don't have to show me your cock if you don't want to. You've got your back to me anyway, so I'll only see your arse. I'll even close my eyes if you want. Either that, or as I said, I can show you my arse as well, so you won't be so embarrassed. It's just you and me here Jeff mate. No need to be embarrassed. Hasn't another guy seen your arse before?"

"Um, oh shit. You ask too many questions."

"Just trying to help. I'm sure that if you stand there without your wet undies on, your erection will be gone in no time."

"I wouldn't count on it. Matt, I'm not taking off my underpants, ok?" I said, annoyed.

"Well ok then, if you're sure. I've got an idea ... wait there."

Matt left for the changing room and shortly after returned, with a towel around his waist, and a spare one for me.

"Thanks," I said, begrudgingly. "Why didn't you just get me a towel in the first place?"

"I didn't think of it mate. I thought you'd be able to get rid of it by just taking your wet undies off. I didn't realise you'd be so crazy. It wasn't until you said you weren't going to do it that I had to think of something else."

"Put the towel over there, on the rail, and then go back over there," I instructed, with hand movements, careful to keep my front hidden from view.

"You're crazy man," he said. "There you are then. Your towel."

"Thanks," I said. I took the towel from the rail and tied it around my waist. I turned to him, now somewhat more decent, only a slight bulge showing through the towelling. "Sorry about that." I felt as if I was blushing. 

Matt glanced downwards at my lower body. He smiled. "Don't worry about it. It's sweet. So where do you live then?"

"An apartment, in town," I replied warily. "It's a bit of a wreck."

"You live in the city? Alone?"

"Yep. I do. Why?"

"How are you getting home then?," he asked.

"Gary asked me to the clubrooms, but I don't think I can make it. I'm heading home. What's the time? There's a bus at four."

"Oh don't take the bus mate. Waste of money. The bus drivers are crazy around here. They're never on time. I'll take you home in my car." 

"It's ok. I wouldn't want to put you out or anything."

"Nah mate. It's sweet. I'll take you. Got any beers in your fridge?"



How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 02



"Pour some of this down your throat," I said to Matt. I placed an opened can of beer on the coffee table in front of him. 

"It's small isn't it mate?," he said, picking the can up off the table before wrapping his lips around the oblong shaped hole at the top.

"What is?"

Matt tilted his head back, his fluctuating adams apple showing as he took a long, thirsty swig. He placed the can back on the table and breathed a satisfied sigh. Then he sat back in my old, worn armchair and surveyed the room. "Your apartment man."

I nodded. "Yea, I know."

My apartment was a bed-sit. This room was my lounge, dining and bedroom. A tiny kitchen was partitioned off and one door led to a bathroom. Functional. That was my apartment in a nutshell. 

I had bought all my furniture on the cheap from a second hand mart when I moved in earlier in the week. The brown chair Matt reclined in had a tear in the upholstery, which I covered with a pillow. The armrests were worn, almost to the wooden frame. The other chair was beige, at least on the surface. It could have been a faded orange. Brown and beige. That was about the extent of my colour coordination. That's a farm boy for you. At least the coffee table between the two chairs offered some variety, despite the cup stains.

Matt's presence sure made a difference to my décor though. Freshly showered, his skin glistened like a baby's. I reckoned he could make a prison cell look like Buckingham Palace.

I stood by the bed and surveyed the room too. I shrugged my shoulders. "I know it's a bit of a mess. At least it's a roof over my head. Beggars can't be choosers." 

"Yes they can," he said dryly. "Dumpster or shop doorway? Cigarette butt or someone's used chewing gum?"

I laughed. "True." I walked to my dresser and opened my socks and underwear drawer. "Make yourself at home. I'm just gonna pop into the bathroom. Won't be a minute." 

I needed to change my briefs. They were still damp and felt uncomfortable, especially between my legs, some moisture also soaking through my pants. I picked out a new pair, the turquoise ones, from a budget packet of five and hid them in my fist. "Grab another beer from the fridge if you want."

He grinned. "Jeff mate, didn't your old lady ever warn you about wearing your undies in the shower?" 

I laughed, but more in embarrassment that he had worked out what I was doing than any spontaneous approval of his joke. It got worse when my undies drawer got stuck as I went to close it. I wrestled with it, trying to force it.

Meanwhile, Matt sat forward, picked up his beer, and polished off what was left before placing the empty can back on the table while watching me thoughtfully. "You know mate? There's no need to go out of the room to change. You saw us all in the showers before, didn't you? It's good for team bonding mate." He kicked off his designer sneakers and pushed them backwards under his chair, with his feet.

"Good for team bonding?" I grunted, putting my body behind the drawer. It didn't budge. I gave up and left it half open.

"Yea. Being naked man. Seeing each other naked. There's no better way of getting to know someone than hanging about with them naked."

I stood upright by my dresser and looked at him doubtingly. "Yea, well, I know one or two people who would disagree with that?"

"Like who?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Just change your undies here man. I won't look. Are you shy?" He stood and sauntered to the fridge.

"It's not that," I said to his back.

He bent over and grabbed another can of beer from the fridge before slamming the door shut with his foot as he turned. He pulled the tab, spraying some foam onto the bare, wooden floorboards in front of me. "What is it then?" He took a drink, placed the can on the table and flopped backwards into the chair.

"I need a leak?"

"A leak mate?"

"Yea, a piss, you know. May as well get changed while I'm at it. Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Matt shook his head and looked at me disbelievingly. "Man, you're ..."

"... crazy." I interrupted, finishing his sentence, then I pulled a face as I walked back past him and into the bathroom. 

I quickly changed into the new undies and refastened my pants before stopping to look at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was damp and scruffy. I combed it, making it stringy so I grabbed a towel and ruffled it up again. That was better. I took a bottle of aftershave from the cabinet, unscrewed the cap, hesitated, then dabbed a drop under each earlobe with my finger. I walked back to the lounge, trying to look handsome.

"Cool! Cards!" I reseated myself in the chair facing him and watched him for a minute. "You're good. How do you do that?"

"Easy." Matt was skillfully shuffling a pack of cards, repeatedly cutting them, and then fanning them back into a single deck like a pro. "Does that feel better mate?"

I laughed unconvincingly. "Yea."

"Sweet." Matt placed the cards in a pile on the rough table surface. "Do you know truth or dare mate?"

"Yea, of course," I said, squinting worryingly at him.

"Take a card," he said, pointing to them.

"Isn't that a kids game?"

Matt laughed. "Not the way I play it."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see. If you want to play, take a card. Otherwise we can do something else."

"Monopoly?"

Matt shook his head. "Nah."

"Do you really want to play truth or dare?"

"Yea. I don't want to sound like a blowarse, but I've never lost mate."

"Never? How many times have you played it?"

"Might as well tell you now, I'll win," he said, not answering my question. When he caught my eye, he smiled. "I always do. I'll beat your arse mate."

Matt picked up his beer several times, taking short, sharp sips, while impatiently tapping the fingers of his other hand on the table. He wore a pair of faded Levis and a blue and white, short sleeved rugby shirt, fitting tightly around his biceps, although not in a body builder type way. He was fit, but naturally fit. He never owned a gym membership, consequently his arse was more prime beef than hard muscle. Just how I liked it.

Before long, he picked the cards up again, shuffling them without looking. He smiled at me, highlighting his most handsome feature, his twinkling, brown eyes. They were the first thing I noticed about him. They emitted a healthy sparkle and they smiled at you, permanently.

I hadn't even agreed to play, but before I knew what was happening, I had taken a card in my hand. I slowly turned it face up on the scarred table top in front of me.

"Bad luck mate," laughed Matt. "A six." He took a card now and placed it in his palm, hidden from my view, and he looked at it secretively. "Shit," he cursed. He threw the card down on the table, skidding it off the edge and onto the floor.

"What was it?," I asked, scrambling for it.

"A three."

I looked at the card and tossed it on the table. I laughed. "Is this where I say truth or dare?"

"Yea mate, but I wouldn't laugh too loud if I were you."

"Oh yea? Why is that?"

"You'll see." He leaned back, letting his shoulders sink into the back of the chair. He gazed at me. There was silence.

"Well?," I said, after a while.

"Truth mate," he replied quietly, in a monotone.

"A truth? Ok." I thought for a minute with a smile on my face and remembered one from playing the game in my youth. "Have you ever stolen anything?"

Matt suddenly laughed now.

"What? What's funny?," I said.

"Is that the best you can come up with?"

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"Everyone asks that. It's dumbarse mate."

"I don't think so."

"You've got no idea, have you Jeff? Things I've stolen. Ok. Where do I start?" He took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I stole twenty dollars from my old man's wallet once."

I laughed.

"I was going to spend it down at the pool hall with my mates but my old man drove past in his ute and saw me. He came right in, no shame or nothing, and dragged me out of there by my ear. Man, it wasn't pretty. He got me to the back of the building and kicked me right in the arse with one of those steel capped workmen's boots."

"Shit! I'm sorry." I felt awful for laughing. "Did it hurt?"

"You should have seen the bruise mate. He whacked me across my back with his belt too. I was a real mess."

"Didn't anyone stop him?"

"Nah. They would have if they could. My mates heard me screaming and came running out. He just ignored them. Man, they were just too scared. I told them not to tell anyone."

"But why?," I asked, as if pleading for sanity.

"Because of the old lady mate. The old lady, you know."

It was a game but I felt like I was intruding. I didn't need to know that. I bowed my head. "How old were you?"

"Eleven." Matt seemed to take this revelation all in his stride. Perhaps he had played it over in his mind so much he was numbed by it. Or worse, perhaps he thought he deserved it.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"That's ok," he said. "My old man's a wanker."

"Yea, but that's no excuse."

He laughed. I hadn't intended to make a joke of it. Before I had time to reflect on what he had told me, Matt continued.

"Another time, same age, I was at the pharmacy getting a prescription for my old lady filled. The chemist had to go out the back or something and I stole a packet of condoms from the shelf and threw them to my mate outside on his bike."

"You were eleven?"

Matt laughed. "Yea. Man, I was dumb. We went back to his place. I tried one on but my cock was too small. My mate laughed his head off. I had to double it over."

I laughed, covering my face bashfully with my hands.

"The rubber, not my cock, I hasten to add."

I hadn't expected either of these answers. I squirmed in my chair and smiled awkwardly at him.

"So there we are mate. A couple of things I've stolen. You'll have to try harder. You're too easy." He pointed to the cards on the table. He suddenly sat up, looking eager. "Your turn." 

"I don't know whether I want to keep playing after listening to all that."

"It's the game mate." He nodded at the cards. "Your turn to shuffle man."

Somewhat reluctantly, I picked up the cards and ponderously shuffled them. Then I placed them back on the table. Matt cut the deck and placed his chosen card in the palm of his hand, as he did before. I chose a card and turned it over on the table. It was a ten. 

"Not bad," I said. "What have you got?"

Matt smiled. He took the card from his palm, put it gently down next to mine and tapped it once with his finger. "Well, look at that. A king," he said, smugly. "Do you want a truth or dare then? Don't think about it too long because either way it ain't going to be pretty."

"Ain't going to be pretty? What do you mean?"

"You'll see. You'll see mate. Choose one. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I mumbled.

He grinned. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I shook my head and smiled. "I know. Reverse psychology."

Matt laughed.

"You're trying to get me to change to truth."

"Not at all mate. You're crazy. If it was reverse psychology and I wanted you to change to truth, I'd be trying to make out a dare was easy."

I thought for a minute. "Not necessarily," I said eventually. "Double bluff. I'll do the dare thanks."

"Ok mate. If you're sure." Matt shook his head, leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees. He lowered his head downwards, focusing on the coffee table between us. "Ok, your dare is ...." He hesitated and then glanced up at me, chuckling. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

His giggle faded and he looked away at the wall. "You do know that if you don't do the dare, I win?"

"Yep. I know the rules."

"Ok then. Well, it's like this, what I want you to do ... mate ... if you want to stay in the game, it's just that ... well ..." He looked me in the eye. He rubbed down the side of his nose with a finger, then he grinned. "I want you to show me your arse."

I laughed.

For a moment, Matt joined in. As he did so he said, "Did you hear me?"

"I think so. Did you say I had to show you something?" The laughter quickly subsided.

"Your arse," he replied, looking back at me. "You have to show me your arse mate."

"That's what I thought you said. But I thought you were joking."

"It's no joke. I'm serious. It's the game. I warned you it wasn't going to be pretty. The dare is for you to show me your arse." 

My hands started to sweat. I gazed at him in mild shock.

"But that's too easy," he added. "There's something else."

"Something else?"

"Yea man. Something else."

"Isn't that enough?"

"Mate, you have to let me do it."

"Do it? Do what?"

"Pull your pants down. You have to let me pull your pants down."

I swallowed nervously. When I shook my head, he looked to the television, which wasn't even turned on. My groin stirred ominously. 

"So that I can look at your arse," he added.

"You really are serious?," I asked forlornly.

"Deadly serious mate. It's the game." Matt relaxed back into his chair, and lifted his beer to his lips. "That's the dare. While you're standing with your back to me, I will pull your pants down."

"Surely you don't expect me to do that Matt."

"Why not?"

"It's stupid."

"Well. That's the dare. Sorry, you either do it, or I win the game. It's really not that hard. It's a piece of cake man."

"You'll laugh," I said.

"No I won't," he said, laughing.

Matt rolled forward in his chair and gathered the can from the table as he stood up. He tipped his head back and he placed the can to his lips, causing his shirt to ride up his abdomen, exposing the downy tufts of black pubic hair just below his belly button and gaining my admiring attention.

Matt skulled what remained of the amber liquid. Then he casually put the empty aluminium can on the wooden floor and stamped on it, crushing it flat, as if it was in a compacting machine at the car wreckers. "I need a piss," he announced. "Don't go anywhere. Back in a minute."

He walked briskly to the bathroom. He stopped at the doorway and turned to speak to me. "Mate, no one will find out," he said sincerely, as if trying to reassure me. Meanwhile, I picked up the crumpled can from the floor and threw it, frisbee style, towards the kitchen, where it landed in the sink with a metallic rattle. Then I listened as Matt peed straight into the water at the bottom of the toilet bowl, the sound loudly reverberating through my tiny apartment. "Mate," he yelled, before his stream tapered off, becoming short, intermittent bursts.

"What?," I shouted back.

He appeared at the doorway, pulling on the zipper of his faded, blue jeans. "It's no big deal. It's just the game."

"I know." As I said that, I wasn't really sure I believed it. Then, as I watched Matt walking back to his chair, I said, "I was going to ask you something."

Matt checked his fly one more time, and sat down. "What?"

"My underpants?"

"Your undies? Your undies mate?"

"Yea, my undies. You know, the dare. What about my undies?"

Matt's eyes darted to my swelling crotch. They stared right through it. "It's obvious, isn't it?," he said.

I shifted my hand to cover my escalating bulge. "Not the way I see it."

"How do you see it then?"

"Well, you didn't mention my underpants did you?"

"No, but I'll be pulling your undies down mate. The dare said for you to show me your arse. I can't see your arse without pulling your undies down," reasoned Matt.

"I don't know about that. I can't see how showing my arse has anything to do with pulling my underpants down. Some people might interpret it as simply turning around and looking at my butt through my trousers."

"That's definitely not the way the dare was meant. It's my dare. I make the rules. No way would I make my dares that dumbarse."

"You wouldn't even consider it then?"

"Consider what exactly?"

"You know," I said, in a frustrated tone. "Looking at my arse through my underpants."

"Sorry," he said emphatically. "Your arse has to be naked. You have to show me your naked arse mate. It has to be nude. Without your undies."

"This is ridiculous," I protested. 

"It's the game," he said, matter of factly.

My penis throbbed, wanting to become erect. But the cramped space inside my pants held it in check. It remained curved, but as it swelled, it pushed my pants out at the front. 

"This is stupid," I mumbled. 

"It's the game," Matt repeated.

I shook my head. "Well, how far will you be pulling my underpants down then?"

"As far as it takes for me to get a good view of your arse mate. It won't be as far as your knees, but it will be further than your arsehole." He smiled. "Are you going to do it?" He waited for an answer, his eyes roaming the room.

My shyness won out. Things like this never happen out in the country. I apologised. "I'm sorry Matt. I can't do that. I guess that means you win."

"Are you sure mate?," he asked, with a hint of dejection.

"Yep, I'm sure." I sat up, shuffled my sweaty butt forward in the chair, and placed my hands on my knees. I paused, thinking he was going to say something. But he didn't. An awkward moment. I stood slowly, conscious of Matt's observant eyes on my mountainous bulge. "I guess I'll turn the television on then." 

"Ok mate," he said. "While you're up, can you get me a beer?"

"Sure." 

I glanced down at my pants and then over at Matt. He would have noticed what was unfolding inside my undies. I began to stride towards the fridge. He held his arm out like a policeman as I walked past him, stopping me in my tracks. "No wait, sit down," he said urgently. "You're crazy. Sit down." 

I stepped backwards, avoiding the table, and I felt for the armrests of my chair behind my back. 

"I'm going to change the dare. I want to make it easier for you. Sit down." 

Gradually, I sank my butt into the chair, adjusting my bulge inconspicuously, attempting to make it more comfortable, and curious as to what exactly he meant. "Really? You're changing it? Why?"

"I like a challenge," he said, laughing unconvincingly. "You're too easy. So I'm giving you a head start. I've decided to change the dare."

"Good." I nodded and allowed myself a slight smile.

"Good? Hang on. Mate, it still ain't going to be pretty."

"But I thought you said you were going to change it."

"I am. I'm changing it mate." Matt looked over his shoulder towards the kitchen. He got up suddenly and walked to the bench, where I had placed a bag of groceries from the mornings shopping. He peered inside. "Have you got anything to eat mate?," he asked. Before I could answer, his hand disappeared inside the bag and returned with an apple in it's grasp. He rubbed it on his shirt, against his left breast, polishing it. He glanced down at it, inspecting the shiny surface, and then polished it some more. Then he pulled the granny smith to his lips, sinking his teeth into the firm, moist flesh. He took a crisp bite and he chewed noisily as he walked back to his chair.

"Help yourself," I said, jokingly sarcastic.

He sat down, then he took another large bite, his cheeks puffing out like a bullfrog. He had already almost completely devoured it. "Yea mate," he said, his mouth full and with juice spewing out of the corners. "I'm changing the dare. Man, you chicken out so easily." As soon as he had swallowed, he took a last bite of the apple and placed the remnants of the core on the table. "Do you want to hear what it is?," he mumbled.

My erection lost it's momentum. I smiled at him quizzically, shaking my head. "Go on then."

Matt swallowed heavily and then wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve. He swished his tongue around inside his mouth, pushing bits of apple out from between his teeth. "You can look at my arse first," he said.

"Oh!"

"Yea, you can look at my arse first. It makes it easier."

My receding erection stirred, sparked back into life as if shocked by a defibrillator. "Underpants and everything?"




How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 02



"Yea mate, including my undies. You can pull my undies down."

"You mean, for me to do it?," I asked, pointing at myself.

Matt picked up the discarded apple core from the table, taking it by the stem. He stood, turned and tossed it into the kitchen sink, where presumably it landed next to the crushed empty beer can. He wiped his hand on his jeans and sat back down. "Yep. That's exactly what I mean. You pull my pants down, look at my arse, then we swap places."

"That's ridiculous Matt," I protested half-heartedly.

"It's the game," he replied. 

My penis grew quickly. This time, nothing could stop it's progress. It constantly twitched inside my undies, before long, completely straightening out. My briefs fought desperately to contain my burgeoning hard-on, crushing the contents of my scrotum against my pelvis. My rigid cock was bent awkwardly at the base. Yet it was also swamped with pleasurable excitement. 

We sat for a minute in silence. We caught each others eye occasionally, looking away quickly when it happened. I adjusted my penis subtly through my pants.

"But there's something else," Matt said eventually. "I think I've made the dare too easy now."

I shook my head and smiled involuntarily. "I don't even know why I'm bothering to listen to this."

"Yea, it's too easy now mate. I'm adding something to the dare. It's like a trade-off. I'm going to make it easier and more difficult both at the same time."

"That doesn't even make sense Matt."

"Yes it does. It makes perfect sense mate. It's too easy."

"No it isn't. I haven't even agreed to do it yet."

"It is mate," he said. "It's too easy. It's dumbarse. I'm changing it so that when you pull my pants down, you are to reach through with your hand, between my legs, and feel my balls."

I felt my penis squirm. It's swelling knob end rubbed against the inside of my undies, teasing the sensitive nerve endings. Then my cock twitched once again as it veered out towards my left hip.

Matt's eyes rushed to my clothed groin, my hand unable to conceal everything. Without warning, he stood and bent over, grabbing both sides of the coffee table with his hands.

"What are you doing?," I asked.

Matt lifted up the table and placed it on it's side behind his chair. "Making more room mate."

"For what?" I looked up at him from my chair. He stood before me on the spot vacated by the table. "But what about your ... you know ... your penis?," I asked, my voice cracking with a combination of panic and excitement.

"You can't touch my cock mate," said Matt, looking down on me. "It's not in the dare."

"That's gonna be hard. You're expecting me to feel your testicles without touching your penis?"

Matt laughed. "Man you've thought of everything."

"Well?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On where my cock is resting at the time."

"Well, it's going to be resting on your balls isn't it?"

He didn't answer immediately. "Good point," he said, appearing to agree with me. He reached down to his groin with his hand and squeezed, just for a moment. "Mate, don't worry about it. You can't help it if you touch my cock accidentally." He smiled.

It was about then that I became aware of the musky, masculine aroma emanating from him. It made him seem irresistible. And he was. Instead of just handsome, he suddenly became unbelievably handsome. Instead of just athletic, he suddenly became extremely athletic. My erect penis yearned for him and something told me it was leaking juice. I glanced across at his package just three feet away. Matt casually inserted his hands into his pockets. I looked back up to his face and I returned his smile.

Matt took a small step towards me and then turned his back. He fidgeted at the front and I heard his belt unbuckle. His jeans loosened around his waist. His hands grabbed the unbuttoned front, keeping his pants from falling.

I wasn't expecting it to happen this quickly. I stretched my arms up above my head and yawned nervously. I sat up onto the edge of the chair and focused my eyes onto the seat of his jeans, the seam down the middle accentuating the symmetrical shape of his rounded, protruding butt. "Now?," I said loudly to his back, seeking reassurance.

"Yep, now mate," he said.

I sat frozen, just staring at the beauty before me, really wanting to do it. Pleasant tingles spread deep within my groin and up the length of my cramped, erect penis. 

"Are you going to pull my pants down mate?"

I glanced up. Matt had said that over his shoulder but had quickly turned his head forward again. I clasped the top of his jeans, just above each of his beefy buttocks. As I pulled downwards, Matt released his grip at the front slightly. His jeans slid effortlessly over his arsecheeks to rest around the upper part of his thighs. 

His butt looked even better now. The thin, velvety cotton caressed each melon shaped cheek as the flesh wobbled invitingly underneath. A narrow band of sweat seeped through his underpants, down his crack line, to between his legs. 

I could hardly stand the anticipation. I inserted my thumbs inside the elastic before hesitating briefly. Then I peeled his boxer briefs down, revealing two naked, well proportioned, beautiful mounds of man-flesh, his shirt hanging loosely, covering about an inch of the top of his crack. Perfect! I let go of his underwear and lifted my hand to the top of the right cheek. Then I very lightly glided the back of my forefinger down the soft, smooth flesh.

I really couldn't believe I was doing this. Pangs of guilt entered my mind. So much so that I thought Matt might turn around at any minute and punch me in the face. My mouth went dry and I licked my lips. My rigid penis egged me on. I pulled down further on the back of Matt's jeans and underpants with my left hand. With my right I lifted his shirt quite a way up his back. 

Matt bent forward, only a few degrees, but enough for a pair of low hanging, swaying balls to appear between his parted legs. Further back, his most intimate part was marked, like a cross on a treasure map, with tufts of shiny black hair, curling out from inside his crack. I took a deep breath. Matt's scent shot through my nostrils making my hairs stand on end. He really did look and smell that good. 

I placed the fingers of my right hand between his legs and pushed them through the warmth. My head rested, on its side, near Matt's back and I cupped his hairy balls in my hand.

Matt arched his back, pushing his arse closer to me, sending my forearm sliding down his crack. He gasped.

I caressed his balls lightly in my hand, teasing them with my roaming thumb. I jiggled them about and then I let them rest snuggly in my loose grasp. I thought I heard Matt sigh. I looked down at my forearm and forced it further upwards into Matt's crack, bisecting both cheeks. 

With my hand I continued to explore around his balls, hoping to touch his penis, accidentally. It wasn't until I reached further up that I found it's rigid base, the rest of it out of my immediate reach, pointing up towards his belly button, erect. "Oh!" 

"What?," mumbled Matt.

"Nothing," I said, flustered. I squeezed the base of his hard cock against his abdomen and then between two fingers, making him moan with pleasure unexpectedly. As I withdrew my hand, I brushed my fingers against the underside of his low hangers and then out and up over the lips of his crack. I closed my eyes and privately smelt his musky scent on my hand, a compound of one hundred per cent pure aphrodisiac. My nostrils flared like a junky's and I eagerly sniffed again. 

I wanted to put my hand back between his legs but knew I couldn't. I had already felt his balls. My part was done. Reluctantly, I clasped Matt's underwear and pulled them up over his beautiful, round butt, an impression etched in my mind forever. I pulled up his jeans and Matt secured them in place before turning to face me. 

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't be sorry." Matt stepped forward and placed an appreciative hand on my shoulder. "Your turn. Come on mate, get up. I'll sit there."

Our bodies brushed as we swapped places. A whiff of Matt's erotic scent caught my nostrils. I inhaled deeply, flooding my lungs with his manly vapour. Then I pretended to scratch my nose and I sniffed my hand. I shivered inside and my pants twitched. I loosely folded my hands over my throbbing bulge.

When I looked down on him, he smiled. He glanced at my hands, at his eye level, then he looked up at me. "Are you going to turn around man, or what?," he said, gesturing a spinning motion with a hand.

While I hesitated, he sat on the front edge of the chair and he reached out his hands, placing them on my hips, encouraging me to swivel around a half turn. I did so with minimal resistance, until I stood with my back to him. Then he pulled me closer. It seemed easier if he conducted me.

"Don't laugh," I pleaded, turning my head so he could hear.

He laughed. Then I felt a sudden tug on the back of my pants, which initially didn't budge. I undid my belt and fly and closed my eyes tight.

He did it in one motion, my trousers and undies together. The cool air burst upon my bare arse as my lower clothing came to rest around my thighs. I struggled to keep myself decent at the front, the tip of my dick nearly popping out. Matt applied pressure to my back with his hand, making me bend forward about thirty degrees. Then he lifted my shirt up to my shoulders and tugged further on my pants, seemingly keen to reveal even more of my bare skin. 

I was acutely aware my whole back side was naked to him. I could sense his smiling, brown eyes upon my completely naked arse. This was the point where sexual arousal overcame embarrassment.

I continued to keep my eyes shut through the minute of almost complete silence that followed. I could hear him breathing quietly. Eerily tranquil, his hand placed up near my shoulders somehow soothing. Someone blasted a shrill horn on the street and I jumped. "How long are you going to look at it?," I asked. My shirt dropped down my back and I suddenly felt the cheeks of my arse being parted around my anus. "Hey!," I protested.

"Oh sorry, my hands slipped," explained Matt. "That was an accident. I didn't mean to see your arsehole like that. Sorry." He tapped on the inside of my thigh and I spread my legs as far as my pants allowed. Matt placed his nimble fingers just below my anus and pushed them slowly between my legs. He didn't move them far before he began to rub on the area underneath, right at the sweet spot between my anus and scrotum, pressing lightly into the soft, spongy flesh, towards my balls and back again to the edge of my hole, stimulating my prostate.

I was suddenly in another world. One with just Matt and I in it, fooling around with each other, just the two of us, as he satisfied my inner desires. But then, somehow I remembered the game. I spoke, biting my lip, trying to keep the sensations in check, holding my underpants ungainly with one hand over my bursting erection, and my trousers with the other. "That's not in the dare," I mumbled incoherently.

Matt withdrew his hand, placing it on my bare back and patting it reassuringly, warmth radiating from his soft palm. "Yes it is mate. The dare said to put my hand through your legs and feel your balls."

I turned my head so he could hear. "My scrotum doesn't go all the way to my anus. That was my perineum."

"Oh, sorry mate," he said. "I didn't know that. I thought it was part of your ball sac."

Matt slipped his hand back between my legs, but now his fingers were slippery with saliva. He continued to rub, this time deeper and more vigorously, his slick digits causing waves of pleasure. Why was I complaining?

I closed my eyes and moaned uncontrollably, opening my legs for him as far as I could. I wrestled with my composure and looked down at what was unfolding. Precum seeped through the fabric, forming a damp patch where the head of my stiff penis was trying to ram it's way through my undies. Matt's fingers had reached the underside of my scrotum. He massaged there now too, up between my balls and back, to the inner edge of my arsehole, almost to the opening. 

"Oh fuck," I gasped. 

Then he engulfed my aching balls in his hand. He applied downward pressure on them and a blissful sensation traveled up my erection as the skin tightened around it. Then I felt one of his playful fingers on the underside of my penis, working it's way up the sensitive skin of it's extended, upright shaft.

"Sorry," said Matt, quietly apologising. "I didn't mean to touch your cock like that mate. It was accidental."

I could see Matt's hand fumbling around, stretching my underpants in all directions. Instinctively, I lowered the front of my pants a bit to give him more room. The combination of his hand and my erection formed a huge bulge, eventually causing both to pop out the top of my undies. 

Now I had a good view. He squeezed the erotically sensitive skin below the head of my cock with a finger, and a drop of precum leaked down onto it. Matt swirled the tip of his lubed finger around the head, spreading the drops of juice over the shiny, pink surface. 

I closed my eyes, wanting to fully enjoy the sensations, and think about what Matt was doing with my body. He pushed his hand through further and he encircled the base of my erection in his fist, his palm facing my abdomen. Then he began to stroke it, up and down, spreading more of my oozing precum over it's length, his hand gliding silkily over the lubricated, loose skin.

Without realising, I began to hump against Matt's hand, moving my hips forward and back, pushing my cock in and out of his tight but slippery fist. In my mind, I imagined fucking him doggy style, my arms cradling his warm, masculine torso and my hips ramming into those perfect, beefy butt cheeks while penetrating his arse. A gigantic orgasm felt inevitable. My breathing was short and rapid and my balls pulled in towards my body. My cum readied itself for ejaculation. 

Suddenly, I felt his hand withdrawing. There was one final fumble around my balls and then his hand continued on, back out through my legs. I desperately wanted to finish myself off, for a moment even humping my cock into thin air, but couldn't see a way of reaching orgasm without embarrassing myself. 

I felt the back of my shirt being lifted to my shoulders, Matt's warm, slippery hand now on my back, keeping it there as he tugged downwards on my pants. Then there was another minute of complete silence, by which time the immediate urge to shoot my load began to diminish. 

"Have you finished?," I asked belatedly. 

There was no answer. Instead, Matt let go of my shirt and pulled up my underpants and my trousers quietly. It was just as well the dare was over. I had come close to shooting long projectiles of milky semen onto the floor and over Matt's briefly hospitable hand. 

As I refastened my belt, and regathered my composure, I turned to face him, as he remained seated. "Matt," I said quietly.

"What?"

"You really should be disqualified from the game for that," I put to him.

Matt looked down at my crotch, my arousal quite evident in the front of my pants. He got up and walked towards the front door. My eyes followed what I had seen in the flesh moments earlier. His beefy butt cheeks rippled inside his jeans as he moved. 

He peered out the window. Left and right. A visitor could look in on approaching my front door. He pulled the curtain across, casting the room into semi darkness in the fading light of a midwinters afternoon. Then he scanned the room, squinting his eyes before flicking on the light switch beside the door. As he walked back, a lump veering to one side of his jeans shifted markedly, in time with each step. I tried not to stare. 

"Disqualified? Really? Why?," he asked. 

"You were only supposed to feel my balls," I argued.

He sat down deep into the chair, his legs slightly parted, his testicles bunched to one side of the seam and a bulge tacking upwards to the same side. "I'm sorry mate. Did I touch something by mistake? What did I do wrong?"

I backed into the chair opposite and sat down. "You felt my ... you know ... my penis."

Matt shook his head. "It was an accident. Couldn't see a thing mate. Sorry."

"But you were almost touching my anus too," I complained.

"There's no way I should be disqualified mate. I thought that bit between your balls and your arsehole was part of your ball sac. That's the education system for you. Man, my biology teacher was hopeless."

"Well, we never learnt that at school either, but I still know my scrotum doesn't stretch that far."

Matt picked up the cards from the floor beside his chair and shuffled them in the way only he knew how, glancing at me occasionally.

"No way was that my scrotum," I said. "It's called the perineum."

He smiled, cutting the cards and folding them over in one hand. "Oh, is it?"

"Yea."

Suddenly, a card flew up into the air and fell into Matt's lap. A rare mistake. He calmly picked it up and slid it back into the deck. Then he straightened out the edges before leaning over and laying them on the floor in a neat pack between us. 

"It was closer to my ... you know ... my anus than anything else Matt," I added.

Matt half stood from his chair. He pulled down on his jeans at the knees, giving his anatomy more room around his bulging crotch before quickly sitting down again. Then he pointed at the cards. "Are you going to take a card, or what?"

"Yea," I said. I nearly didn't mention it. "Just as soon as you put those kings back in the deck."

Matt acted surprised. "Kings? What kings?"

"The kings you're sitting on. Under the pillow."

Open mouthed, Matt stood and lifted the pillow. "Oops. How did they get there?" He looked back at me and grinned.

"I wasn't born yesterday, you know," I said. I picked up the deck from the floor and held out my other hand in his direction. "Here, give them to me." 

Matt picked up the kings, three of them, replacing the pillow before tossing them to me. I snatched at them with my outstretched hand, but missed. The cards landed in my lap, partly hiding my unsatisfied bulge. But it only drew attention to it when I went to gather them in my hand. Matt watched carefully. I randomly slid each of them back into the pack. Then I shuffled clumsily and planted the deck back on the floor. 

"Bloody cheat," I said crossly.

Matt said nothing. He just grinned and, for a second, fiddled with the front of his jeans, pushing his erection further to the side.

I shook my head.

Simultaneously, we sat forward in our chairs, as though forming a scrum, huddling anxiously over a trivial deck of cards. I reached down and cut the deck, our heads almost touching. Matt took a card and turned it face up on the floor. It was a nine. I took a card too and nervously placed it beside his.

I lifted my head up, gazing straight into the top of his scalp, while short, silky strands of hair wavered gently in time to my breath. Suddenly, the same strands shimmered more violently when I spoke. "Did you cheat?," I asked. I had drawn a three. 

Matt lifted his head too. "Nah mate, I didn't cheat," he said into my face. His breath smelt of beer, but it didn't matter. I knew by his humourless look that he hadn't cheated this time. He stood unexpectedly. 

I flinched when the long, cylindrical lump jutting up the front of his jeans invaded my view. Embarrassed, I looked downwards, gathered up the deck and fanned through the cards to check they were all there.

Matt went to the window, and pushed aside a corner of the curtain before peering out into the street. Then he stepped towards the door, calmly flicking the door lock on his way past, the metal click echoing across my wooden floor. He took the cards off me and tossed them on the bed about six feet away, scattering them unintentionally across the duvet. He sat down. 




How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 02



"Mate, I'm going to take your pants off," he said with a deadpan expression.

I stared at him, not totally surprised.

He smiled.

"That's the worst pick up line I ever heard," I said, making light of it.

"It's not a pick up line mate. It's the game. I'm taking your pants off. That's the dare."

It was only in retrospect that I realised that the truth element of the game had disappeared. I leaned forward and put my head in my hands, covering my eyes. If it was ever possible to be so sexually aroused and so full of dread at the same time, this was it. I lifted my head and looked back at Matt's face, it's limits of handsomeness seeming to know no bounds. 

"But I can't," I complained.

"And by 'off', I mean right off," he said. "Not just down to your ankles. You will have to step out of your pants and undies and I will pick them up off the floor and throw them over there, onto the bed. Your bottom half has to be nude man. Everything below the waist off."

I shook my head. "Nup."

"And you have to let me touch it," he added, ignoring my protestation.

"Touch it?"

"Yeah mate. Touch it." He nodded in the direction of my genitalia. "You know."

"Touch what?," I asked, with a false giggle.

"You know. Touch IT. Your cock mate. Your dick. Your penis. I'm going to take your pants and undies off and touch your cock."

I continued to shake my head. "I can't."

"Why not man?"

"Shit, this is embarrassing. It's just that, how shall I put this, it's just that my penis is, well, I've got an erection."

"I know," he laughed. "Don't worry about it mate. Hard or soft, it doesn't matter."

I checked Matt's bulge. The old armchair cradled his athletic, young frame, reclining him in an open embrace, his arms relaxing quietly on the armrests, allowing me the most intimate of views of his clothed body. His ever smiling, healthy, brown eyes sparkled relentlessly. His moist lips were tantalisingly parted, just a little, and his clear, freshly showered complexion invited an affectionate touch. He looked so good, and so at ease. Yet his erection betrayed him. He was still hard. As hard as a rock. Even the thick denim couldn't conceal the impression of his erect penis or the enlarged glans at the tip with it's distinctive inverted 'v' junction below the slit.

"But there's something else," I said. 

"What Jeff mate?"

"Oh fuck." I leaned over, put my elbows on my thighs and I buried my head in my hands once again, my fingers covering my eyes. "I thought I'd better warn you," I mumbled through the gap between my palms. I slid my head up, curled my hands into fists and rested my chin on them.

"What?"

I lowered my hands off my chin to speak. "There might be, I mean I might have some, you know, oh fuck, this is embarrassing, some juice, on the end, coming out of the tip, of my penis. Fuck, you know, some semen, dripping out." 

I sat back, relieved to have got that out in the open, exposing my body almost as much as he was his. Then I covered my inflated crotch with my hands. "Thought I'd better warn you before you pulled my pants down. There's probably going to be some on my undies too. It happens a lot with me. Sorry. Oh shit, I can't believe I just said that."

He smiled. "That's ok mate. It's all good."

"You can change your mind if you want," I offered.

Matt didn't seem at all concerned. He sat up onto the front edge of his chair and pointed to a spot on the floor in front of him. "Do you wanna stand their mate?"

It sounded more like an invitation than a dare. I placed my hands on the armrests of the chair, positioning myself to stand. I stopped halfway up and flopped back down into the chair. "By touch it, do you mean wank it?"

Matt didn't answer. He pointed again to the floor.

I stood slowly, belying the fact that, deep down, I really wanted to do this. Matt watched me all the way. "There?," I asked, pointing roughly to the spot Matt had indicated, to which he nodded. I stepped forward.

He reached out his hands, taking my hips, and he pulled me in closer. Before my feet barely had time to settle on the spot, Matt reached for my belt buckle and began to unravel it.

"Now?," I asked, half protesting.

Matt looked up at me mischievously and continued to undo my belt. I felt two tugs on my waist and before I knew it my belt was hurtling over my shoulder before rattling, like a snake, as it landed on the bed. Then he got the zipper and unzipped, all the way down. Unsurprisingly, my erection pushed out some of my underpants through the fly as though suddenly released from a straitjacket. Matt undid the remaining button and my pants fell to my thighs. I looked down. 

There we were. Two sets of eyes trained on my erection, barely concealed by a pair of utterly stretched briefs. I'll never forget his lustful smile at that moment. Erotic feelings surged through my groin. A damp patch adorned my undies, decorating them with my juices. As we watched, another surge of precum seeped through. Matt stared from half a foot away as he gave my pants one extra push. They fell to the ground unimpeded, coming to rest around my ankles.

"Oh fuck! Shit ... sorry. Don't laugh."

He didn't laugh. Far from it. He grabbed the elastic waistband of my soiled underpants at each hip and began to pull downwards. My phallus was so hard that it rendered itself an almost immovable obstacle. That's why my underpants came down at the back first, down below my arsecheeks. 

As he adjusted his grip and tugged more at the front, my rigid penis was pulled downward and forward. It stood uncomfortably out from my body at ninety degrees before Matt released it by dragging the front of my slimy undies over my leaking glans. My penis suddenly sprung back against my abdomen, causing an almighty thud. It also sent a glob of precum into the air between us, eventually landing on the top of Matt's head. He didn't care.

"Mate ... that's big," he said, looking up at me with one of his trademark grins. When I felt him tapping my ankles, I stepped out of the leg holes of my pants. Matt gathered my discarded clothing from the floor and chucked them on the bed.

"Oh fuck," I repeated, closing my eyes tightly in a kind of sexually inspired anguish. "Let me know when you've finished." That idea didn't last long. Once I felt Matt's fingers on my cock, I had to open my eyes. I found him holding my hard penis, as if he was holding a paper dart, between his thumb and forefinger. 

When he pulled the loose skin upwards, a small drop of precum returned to the opening. He repeated this half a dozen times, until a clear drop dribbled down onto his thumb. Then he placed a finger of his other hand right at the slit and spread what liquid there was there over the swollen head of my cock, giving it a silky sheen. 

I could tell that my arousal was on the upswing. My arsecrack was beginning to sweat and a combined manly, sexual scent teased my nostrils and overdosed my veins with testosterone. I looked down at Matt on the chair, and fantasized about what I would do with him, some of which I wouldn't want him knowing.

Matt appeared to be in a world of his own too. He slid his backside off the chair and fell to the floor on his knees. He took my cock in his firm fist, holding it upright, and he began to stroke it slowly, viewing it from close range. Further drops of precum oozed onto his fingers, acting as a lubricant. 

Suddenly, he stopped stroking but kept a grip around the base, pulling my cock outwards and downwards, against its natural inclination. He licked his lips liberally. Then he moved his head forward and placed his tongue at the underside of my sensitive dick head. He licked upwards over the leaking slit, taking a drop of precum into his mouth.

"Hey!," I protested.

Matt looked up at me with a look of total innocence. "What?"

"Oh shit ... nothing." For the sake of the game, whether this counted as 'touching' I wasn't sure. I really had no desire to seek a ruling on it.

He returned with his tongue, this time more confidently. He came at my penis with slightly more vigour. I noticed a small puddle of my silky liquid on the tip of his tongue as he withdrew it from my cock. He swallowed without hesitation. "Mmmm," he mumbled. 

He gave my cockhead a light kiss. His lips barely touched the surface, but still enough for a string of clear precum to form and collapse onto his chin as his mouth retreated. He poked his tongue out and, with one swoop of his stubbled chin, lured the spillage into his mouth. 

As he came forward once again, he placed his tongue at the bottom of the throbbing shaft, just above my balls, then in one movement, he licked up it's entire length, to the tip, coating it in saliva. Then he parted his lips and wrapped them around my swollen glans. He siphoned more of my juice into his mouth, pumping my cock with his hand. Then he moved even closer and placed his hands on my hips. 

There's nothing better than seeing your cock disappear into another guys slippery orifice, and this was no exception. Matt's lips had begun to engulf my seven and a half inch shaft, and he wasn't stopping. My cock slid effortlessly over Matt's tongue, hitting the back of his throat. His nose nestled snuggly into my pubes, his chin rested against my balls, pushing them briefly back between my legs. Then he withdrew as slowly, yet deliberately, as he had entered. 

He swirled his tongue around the head of my stiff cock as it began it's exit. When it reached his lips, and before the pleasurable feelings in my groin had a chance to evaporate, he swallowed my cock once again. This time, he pursed his lips closer together, increasing the pressure around my cock, and the pleasure.

I really wasn't expecting Matt to take on this task with quite so much relish, or indeed expertise. It was apparent that he knew how to please a man. I knew he was enjoying it too. It wasn't long before he was massaging his own cock through his pants, while he knelt before me and his mouth saw to mine.

He had quite a rhythm going now. So much so that my balls bounced off his chin and the tip of my cock hit the back of his throat simultaneously. His saliva formed a smooth slick over my erection and also accumulated around my bristly pubes. Some of it trickled down my scrotum and over my balls. 

I began to sweat profusely. My balls tightened. And I needed to plant my seed ... badly. Matt's mouth seemed like the perfect place in which to do it and Matt's mouth seemed only too pleased for that to happen. I placed my hands on his head, needing something to hold on to as I thrust my hips. I kept his head still while I did all the work, and I parted his eager lips with my plunging cock.

"Fuck, this is amazing," I shouted. "Oh yeah ... fuck ... fuck yeah. Take my cock. Suck my dick." Matt looked up at me from where he knelt submissively, straining his eyes over the top of his brow, just as my cock disappeared into his hungry mouth once again.

Such an innocent, helpless look for someone of such cheekiness. It tipped me over the edge. I sensed a huge orgasm arriving. It would be a massive load. I didn't announce it. I thrust one more time. My muscles stiffened. I arched my back. My prostate and anus contracted in unison. A state of blissful euphoria racked my body. 

Matt grabbed my arsecheeks, pulling me closer and my cock deeper. I thought about Matt's skillful hands fondling my sweaty arse. He is so hot! Oh fuck! Shots of my milky seed fired deep into Matt's mouth. He didn't flinch. Swallow my cum. You fucker!

I withdrew, still in orgasm, depositing an ejaculate of semen onto his tongue on the way out. "Shoot some of it on my face," Matt pleaded, with his eyes closed. But it was too late. I already had, in great wads of the stuff. Once onto his forehead, and another one over the bridge of his nose and a cheek. 

As more cum dribbled out, I wiped it over his other cheek with the head of my cock. Matt opened his eyes and quickly swallowed my cum smeared dick once again, sucking out what was left. Then he took it in his hand and peered up at me. 

He looked magnificent. His handsome face was smeared with my cum. Some of it from his nose trickled down over his upper lip and into his mouth. Globules gathered on his eyebrows. There were sticky strings of it in his hair. His mouth foamed with a mixture of cum and saliva, seeping out the sides and dribbling down his chin, some of it coagulating around his short whiskers and some trickling down his neck and under his shirt. It was really messy. Matt licked his lips seductively, taking more of my ejaculate into his mouth.

"Oh shit. Sorry." I said, as I panted for breath, slowly coming to my senses. "Are you ok?" I screwed my face up. "What does it taste like?"

In response, he produced the biggest grin I had ever seen. He looked up at me, so handsome, holding my saliva coated dick inches from his foaming mouth, and his grin didn't waver, even as he answered "Salty!"



How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 03



When I woke up that morning, the odds of me shooting semen onto the face of one of my new teammates must have been at least one thousand to one. They always said I was lucky, but not that lucky. But it had happened. I pinched myself. I wasn't dreaming.

"Sorry, I've made a bit of a mess of your face," I said, as Matt knelt on the floor with my dick in his hand and a gallon of cum on his face. "Watch out! There's some about to drip off the end of your chin."

Matt scooped it up with a finger. Then he dangled the same finger over the head of my dick and let the drop of cum drip down onto the silky, curved surface. He moved his head forward slowly, and he licked the drop from my glans with his tongue. He trawled it across his upper lip too, drawing more of my spunk into his endlessly thirsty mouth. 

"Man! Do you always cum that much? Massive mate. Massive! You must have been saving that up for weeks. Do you have a licence to operate that thing? Your cock's dangerous mate," said Matt. He wiped the back of his hand over one of his cheeks and then hung it out in front of him as cum drooled down his fingers, some of which fell to the floor. "Do you have a towel or something?"

"Sure."

"Make it a large one mate."

"Oh shit! Sorry."

Now that I'd shot my load, I acted like a self conscious dork again. I backed up a couple of steps until the backs of my calves hit the chair. I turned towards the bathroom. My shirt stuck, in parts, to my sweaty back like cling-film. The hem brushed against the skin of my lower back, just above my butt. I contemplated covering my naked arse with one of my hands. Instead, I grabbed the sides of the bottom of my shirt and tugged downwards as I walked. It made no difference. My shirt was too short. 

"Don't worry about your arse man."

Oh shit. I had wondered whether Matt could see, considering all that spunk in those eyes, the ones that had just sent me into orbit. When I reached the bathroom I unfolded a couple of towels from the vanity cabinet and wrapped one of them around my waist. I wondered how I looked after all that had happened. I checked my reflection in the mirror. I looked like crap. I filled the washbasin with cold water and splashed it over my flushed face. 

"Are you coming mate?," shouted Matt from the other room. "Get your arse back in here man. Your cum's everywhere. It's dripping onto the floor now."

I took my shirt off, unwrapped the towel from my waist and wiped the lingering sweat from my body. Then I retied the towel to my waist, put my shirt back on, and walked out to where Matt waited.

He hadn't moved a muscle. He was as I had left him, kneeling on the floor with one cum smeared hand suspended out in front of him as though he didn't want to touch anything with it. But then he waved it at me. "Hey man. Chuck me the towel. I've got your stuff all over me. It's all over the place. Bucket loads of it. Man! You could cure world starvation with that thing. Spunk was flying out of your cock like there was no tomorrow."

Embarrassed, I walked up and handed him the towel. "Here." 

He took it just as a globule of cum fell from his fingers. 

"It's not that bad, is it?," I said.

Matt draped the towel over his hands and sunk his face into it, wiping it clean, or at least attempting to, of the semen I had deposited there at his request. He chucked it back at me, which I failed to catch, and it dropped to the floor. Then he looked up at me, as he got up from the floor and sat in his chair, offering his face for inspection. "Is that better? Your cum hasn't ruined my handsome features forever has it? What do you reckon mate? Can you still see any of your spunk on my face?"

Matt rarely failed to make me laugh. "Oh shit, it is that bad," I said. "Hang on." I went to the bathroom and ran a facecloth under the hot tap and returned with it. "Sorry, your hair is, well, has got strings of, you know, in it. There's strings of sticky, you know, oh shit, semen and there's still some stuff on your face. Here, you can use this." I offered him the steaming facecloth. "Sorry ..."

Matt didn't budge and had his arms firmly planted on the armrests. I thrust my arm out further and tried to get him to take the facecloth. He looked up and shook his head. "Mate, can you do it?"

"I suppose so. Are you sure? You could pop into the shower or something if you want. There's soap in there and everything."

"Nah. You do it. Use that," he said, pointing to the facecloth in my outstretched hand. Matt moved his backside forward in the chair and put a pillow behind his back for support. Then he tilted his head back. In his mind, it was a done deal. "I'm ready man. I'm ready for you to make me handsome again."

I tried to think of something witty to say in reply but I just laughed. I stepped up and stood over him. "Hold still." I bent over, lowering my eyes closer to his and I manipulated his head to face the light. Then I placed the facecloth on his left cheek and glided it across the centre of his face, across the bridge of his nose and his right cheek, mopping up bits of half dried cum. Matt smiled and looked me in the eye. 

I placed the facecloth at his right temple and ran it down his jawline and over his stubbled chin, rustling the short, bristly hairs. For the first time I noticed a healed scar stretching about an inch, forward of his right ear, almost hidden by his five o'clock shadow. "Do you like this look?"

"What look man?"

I stopped for a minute and stood upright, putting my hand on his chest. "The unshaven one."

"Mate, I don't shave before a game. For three days, at least. Don't you think it makes me look more rugged or something? You know, like a gladiator."

I smiled, wanting to laugh but nodding in agreement.

"Did you see that guy today? Man he was scared when he saw me running at him. He virtually ushered me through."

"Oh yeah. I saw that. You almost scored a try." I patted his chest, the facecloth in my palm. Then I bent back over and inspected his chin from even closer, sweeping up stray bits of cum from his neck.

"No bugger likes tackling me when I look like this." 

"Sure."

"When I haven't shaved I mean. Not with a gallon of your spunk on my face. It makes me look mean mate."

I wiped down his jawline, over that scar. "I'm sure the girls like it too."

"The chicks? Man! Anyway, it'll all be gone when I shave in the morning."

I pricked my ears up. I stood back up, and placed my hand and facecloth back on his chest. "In the morning? Would you like me to give you one? I can give you a shave."

"What? Now?"

"Yeah, may as well. I've got a razor and some shaving foam in the bathroom. It wouldn't be any trouble. I can do it here, while you're sitting in the chair. No problem." I pointed to the bathroom. "I'll go and get the stuff."

"Mate, nah don't. It's ok. Don't worry about it. I'll shave in the morning."

I smiled apologetically. "Ok." The room fell silent.

I cleaned up bits of cum from the side of his hair, and watched his heartbeat pulsing in his temple. He breathed peacefully through his nose and would have looked peaceful too, if it wasn't for the mess. I wiped his forehead and then I noticed another scar, a tiny one, on his brow. Our eyes caught each other. He smiled, which I returned. Then I dabbed at his eyebrows and Matt instinctively closed his eyes.

I looked down, peeping over his lungs as he breathed, towards his groin and his ... erection. The zipper of his jeans strained, so much so it was unzipped about an inch. His green undies showed through the gap and so did the impression of the head of his swollen cock, covered by the thin fabric. His bulge twitched and his fly unzipped one more notch. When I looked back at his face, I found Matt watching me, smiling.

That was it. Once it starts there's no stopping it. My groin tingled. My penis stirred. The pressure intensified as it expanded and pushed out against the weight of the towel around my waist. It started to tent. But it was about to get worse. Much worse. I couldn't help myself. I stared at the part of Matt's face which had been so accommodating moments earlier. All of a sudden his lips looked irresistible. Before I knew it, my head was making an advance towards his. Our lips were on a collision course, and it was all in slow motion.

"Oh shit, sorry," I said, suddenly conscious of what was happening. My head made a rapid retreat. As I walked past Matt's prone body towards my dresser, I tossed the soaked facecloth onto his groin, making him flinch as though I had just kneed him there. That made him grab at it and sit up. 

"Mate? Hey, what are you doing man?"

I took a clean pair of undies from my dresser. I was in danger of running out at this rate. I pulled them up my legs and under the towel with my back to him. Then I grabbed my pants from the bed. "I'm sorry, can you finish that off yourself?," I said, flustered. "I'm just putting my pants back on."

"Why? Come on. You haven't finished cleaning your spunk off yet man."

"No way. There's hardly any left. I got most of it. I was getting cold. Don't you find it chilly in here?"

"Chilly? Mate, it's not chilly. You're crazy man."

It wasn't until I fastened the button on my pants that I noticed Matt returning from a brief visit to the bathroom, his face clean, and his hair damp. He gathered the cards from the bed and slumped himself into the chair. He shuffled the deck. "Now, where were we?"

"My turn first," I said. I subtly arranged the bulge in my pants and sat back down in the chair opposite.

As he continued to shuffle he glanced down to where it looked like someone had shoved a baseball down my pants. Then he looked down at his own disarray. He placed the deck of cards on the floor between us and poked his penis back through his fly. Then he lifted up his backside, straightening his pelvis, and he inelegantly pulled up his zipper over his full-on erection. "Mate?," he said.

"Yep."

"Do you have any lube or something man?"

I giggled weakly.

"KY Jelly, olive oil, lotion? Anything like that'll do."

I didn't answer.

"Man, you must have something. What do you use to wank with?"

I covered my face with my hands. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

"Don't you use lube?"

When I removed my hands, I felt my face burning. "No, I don't have any lube."

"Bummer." Matt pointed to the floor. "Take a card then."

I stood up and grabbed my wallet from my back pocket. I took out a twenty dollar note and offered it to him. "Will this be enough?"

He took the money from me, and dangled it in his hand in front of him. "For what?"

"There's a supermarket at the end of the street. Go and buy what you need and bring it back." 

Matt folded the money in two and shoved it into his back pocket. "Man, you must be made of money."

I rolled my eyes. "Yea, can't you tell? I'm living a life of luxury here. Just buy what we need ... and Matt?"

"What?"

"Bring back the change."

Matt grinned. He got up, his clothed erection flashing teasingly before my eyes, and he looked over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Ok mate. Leave it to me."

"Hang on. Wait! You know what I mean don't you?"

Matt continued walking but I could hear his muffled laughter. "Yeah mate. I know what you mean. You're so crazy."

He obviously did know what I meant. I could tell. It was the way he laughed. He patted his backside over the pocket where he had stashed my money and unlocked the door before his sexy back view disappeared out the doorway as bright streetlights illuminated his speedy exit.

"I'll wait for you here!" I shouted through the door he had, in his haste, left open. I assumed he could hear me. I got up too and yelled through the doorway. "Try the men's toiletries aisle." 

Realising what I had said, and how it may have sounded, I instantly scanned the street, left and right. Not another sole in sight, luckily. A car drove past, shining on Matt's supple body, as he strutted the footpath, a bit like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. I pushed the door closed, leaving it unlocked for him. Then I headed for the bathroom, tearing my shirt off my back as I went. I quickly peeled my black pants and underpants down my legs and kicked them into the corner of the bathroom, where they landed on top of my discarded shirt.

I held my outstretched hand under the shower as the needles of lukewarm water ricocheted off in all directions. "Hurry up!" I said impatiently, as if the shower had ears. I stepped in and slid the polyester curtain across the railing. Then I turned to briefly let the warm streams of water cascade down my back, washing away the sticky, drying sweat. I thought about what Matt and I had just done and what we might do when he returned. That's what kept me aroused, despite having already cum over Matt's welcoming face. I closed my eyes and fleetingly stroked my hard cock. Then I took a cake of soap from the shelf into my hand. I reached behind my back, rubbing the soap liberally over my arsecheeks, and then between them. I was clean. I had checked.

Showered and clothed, I returned to the comfort of my chair and stared at the front door. Ten minutes later, Matt still hadn't returned. My shower needn't have been so hurried. I had time to think, which probably wasn't a good thing. Was I handsome? Was I cool? I wanted to be both those things when Matt walked in the door and saw me. My penis couldn't care less. I fidgeted around on the chair, altering my pose and I chose the coolest.. 

When I saw the cards lying on the floor untidily, where Matt had left them, I had a sudden wicked thought. Should I? I glanced at my front door that Matt could be opening at any moment, and then back at the deck of cards. What the heck? Two can play at that game. I gathered them up and fanned them, face up, in my hand. I extracted one king, and then another. I rummaged through the deck quickly, and then for a second time. There were no more. I gazed up at the door and then laughed to myself. "The bastard!" I should have guessed. He'd done it again. I tossed the deck of cards onto the floor, then I got up and lifted the flattened pillow lying innocently on Matt's chair. There they were. Two kings. Two bloody kings! The king of spades and the king of hearts. Cheat! He hadn't even bothered finding a different hiding place.

"Hey man, I got the stuff."

"Oh shit ... what?" So much for that. I can't have looked handsome or cool. 

Matt did though. Evening dew had accumulated on his face. It glistened in the light and gave his short cropped, black hair a healthy sheen. He carried a shopping bag in his hand, his arm slightly bent, making his rugby shirt ride up his beautifully muscled arm, showing off his bicep in a good light. "You know. The stuff. I got it. What you wanted."

"Sorry, you startled me. Yeah ... the stuff ... um good. Thanks Matt." I was rather sheepish.

On the other hand, Matt sauntered in looking pleased with himself. He sat in his chair and dropped the half full shopping bag on the wooden floor between us.

"A chair fit for a king," I said sarcastically.

"What mate?"

"Nothing," I said. Matt didn't get it. "Did you have a good walk?" I leaned forward and held out my hand expectantly. "Where's my change?"

"Change?" Matt laughed. "There's no change mate."

"No change? What do you mean, no change?"

"I spent it. I spent the whole twenty dollars. Man, a twenty dollar note doesn't stretch far these days."

"You've got to be joking. What the hell did you buy?"

"It's a long story."

"Bugger that. Just give me the the condensed version," I said tersely.

"Man, don't be so crazy. Come on Jeff. Smile. I got the stuff. Do you want to see what I bought? You'll like it. Hang on. I'll show you." Matt eagerly reached into the shopping bag and fumbled around. He brought out the items one by one, placing them on the floor, and announcing them. "One tube of peppermint toothpaste."

I laughed.

"One bottle of green apple scented shampoo."

"What?"

"One packet of Gillette razor blade cartridges. And finally, the stuff mate. One tube of KY Jelly lube. What do you think?"

"I want my change. That's what I think. I was expecting about fifteen bucks. Why did you have to buy toothpaste?"

"Man, you would have too if you were in my position. That chick was hot."

"What chick?"

"The chick on the checkout till. Have you ever walked up to checkout with just a tube of KY Jelly in your shopping basket? You stick it on the counter and the girl says 'One tube of personal lubrication. Is that all you want today sir?', in a really loud voice, or, even worse, over the intercom. Man, that's embarrassing."

"Did she actually say that?"

"Well no, not exactly. But she may have. If you just buy lube, it makes it look like you're going to have sex."

"Really?" Oh shit, I think that's precum in my underpants. "You think so?'

"Yea mate. So I had to grab all those other things. I took a whole lot of stuff from the shelves nearby and threw them into the basket. That way it made it look like the lube was just part of my general shopping. There's more to me just than my good looks you know."

I tried my best not to laugh. "But I hate apple shampoo and I don't have a Gillette razor either."

"Ooops, it's not my fault. How was I to know? I didn't know mate. Sorry. Oh well, we'd better make the best of a bad situation. If you don't want them, I'll take them off your hands. Stick them over there by the door and I'll take them with me when I go home."

"No way. You can have the shampoo and the toothpaste, but I'm keeping the razor blades and the lube. Sorry."

"Ok mate." Matt stretched his arms above his head and sighed a nervous type of yawn. "So?"

"What?"

"What are you going to do with them then?"

"I'll think of something."

"Hey, it wasn't my fault," he said. "Anyway, you can always use them to shave your hairy arse."

I giggled inside but looked at him blankly.

He winked, just one eyelid and a squint in the corner. Otherwise, he didn't move a muscle.

I did my best to keep a straight face. But I suddenly burst out laughing.

Matt grinned, neither of us really knowing what the joke was. His eyes roamed towards my clothed groin. He stared for a few seconds and then looked away.

I shifted a hand and casually rested it over my bulge.

Matt reached down and gathered up the cards from the floor. He shuffled them and then placed them back.

I nodded at them. "Pick a card. It's your turn to go first."

He reached down towards them with his hand.

"Yea, go on. Take one," I said, all smartarsy.

"Ok. If that's what you want mate." He took a card and placed it secretively in his cupped hand, without looking at it, and slumped back into the chair. Then he held the card face down against his stomach so I couldn't see it.

"Well? Aren't you going to show me? What is it?" I found it difficult to avoid Matt's rampant bulge too. As I glanced down at it, not for the first time, one notch of the zip of his fly burst open.

"I'm not telling you," he said.

"You're not telling me?"

"You take one first. Then I'll show you." Matt watched me intently, one hand covering the card, the other at his side, sandwiched between his hip and the armrest. "Are you going to take one? You're too chicken, are you mate?"

I reached down now and took the next card from the deck before lounging back in the chair. "There. Now show me your card?"

Matt excitedly and suddenly sat forward. Looking me in the eyes, he threw the card onto the floor in front of me, where it landed, face up. "There you go mate. Beat that!"

I looked down at the card and laughed. "That shouldn't be too hard."

Matt looked down too. He was mortified. "What the fuck!"

"A two?," I said, smugly.

"A damn two!"

"What's wrong Matt. Anyone would think you were expecting a king or something." I grinned.




How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 03



Matt put his elbows on his knees, leaned forward, and rested his head in his hands in disbelief. "Aargh!" He lifted his head and placed his hands on his thighs. He was confused, at first, but when he looked at me and saw my cheeky expression, he smiled himself. "You knew it was a two, didn't you mate?"

"Don't you want to see my card?," I said, feeling pleased with myself.

"You did know didn't you. You switched cards when I was at the shop." Matt stood up and swiped the pillow off his chair. He picked up the remaining card that he thought he had hidden there, looked at it, and threw it across the room. "Another two. You cheat," moaned Matt. He had twigged.

Ignoring him, I smugly placed my card on the floor next to his.

"A damn king," he whined. "I should have known." Despite this, his eyes still smiled, as they always did. He rubbed them with his hands. "A damn king." He swiped the palms of his hands up over his forehead and short fringe, and then he folded them over his stomach as he slouched in the chair. Another notch of his fly unzipped and the impression of the head of his penis came back into view. "Fair dinkum. What's your dare then?"

"You want to keep playing then?," I said.

"Of course mate." 

Matt shifted his hand to where his covered glans poked through. He squeezed it. He knew I was watching. "Man! Hey, can you stand up for a minute? I want to show you something."

As I stood, Matt leaned over and grabbed me by the wrist, pulling me towards him, to his chair. As I looked down on him, he guided my hand to the front of his jeans. The tips of two of my fingers entered his partly opened fly. "Can you feel that?," he grinned.

I nodded.

He undid his button and I squeezed his clothed, swollen knob between my fingers. Matt closed his eyes and pushed his head back against the headrest, an ecstatic look upon his face. He placed his hand on my buttcheek and rubbed tenderly over the seat of my pants. I withdrew shyly.

"Wait!," Matt pleaded. "Stay here." He pulled me back in and fumbled with my belt, trying to unravel it. 

I brushed his hand aside and stepped back. I reached backwards for the armrests of my chair and sat down. Then I looked at Matt as though I was about to deliver a lecture. "Hang on," I said. "What's happening here Matt? I could have sworn that I drew a king?"

"Only because you cheated."

I laughed. "No way. I've been thinking about all the things that have happened today. There's been a pattern here. All the way through. And it's all been your doing. Don't you reckon?"

"Man, what are you talking about?"

"You've done nothing but cheat all day Matt. Right from the moment you tried to convince me to take my undies off in the shower. It's just been one thing after another. Bending all the rules, hiding cards, trying to score some free shampoo, cheating. All in the space of a couple of hours."

"This is crazy shit mate."

"No it's not. You've cheated your way through the whole game. I won the draw and I've thought of a dare. It's only fair."

"A dare? Man! What is it?"

"I want you to take all your clothes off."

His eyes widened. "Blimey! Everything?"

"Yes Matt. Everything. The whole lot. Every last stitch. Your shirt, your jeans and your undies. Take them right off. Do it right there." I pointed to the floor. "Stand right there in front of me, completely naked, and show me everything. That means no hands covering your private bits. And just so you know, private bits includes the whole lot. Your penis, your balls, your pubes and everywhere on your arse."

Matt closed his eyes and squeezed his clothed knob, most of which showed through his fly. A damp streak appeared on his undies. "That's crazy man."

"And another thing. I'll be touching you," I said.

"Where?"

"You'll find out. Your whole body is fair game. There's not a place on your body that is out of bounds mate," I said, in his language. "Unless, of course, you won't do it, in which case I win the game. And I know you wouldn't want that. So there's no way out of it. I'm going to see you completely naked, without a single stitch of clothing, and I'm going to touch your body." 

"Man!" 

"Oh, and before I forget ..." I reached down to the floor beside my chair and grabbed the tube of KY Jelly from among the other items Matt had bought. "Catch!"

He caught it effortlessly in one hand.

"We're going to be using the stuff," I said. 

Matt pushed his cock back in and struggled with his fly. He put the lube on the floor. "Ok mate. Whatever you say."

"Oh, I thought you'd argue," I said.

"Nah, it's fair enough." He stood on the spot I had indicated.

"One item at a time," I said. "Shirt, jeans and underpants. Naked Matt. Penis, scrotum, arse. Everything! The whole lot. Stiffy or no stiffy."

"Mate, it's gonna be stiffy," he said, almost sounding embarrassed.

"Your underpants too. Is that clear?" 

"You're not asking much, are you? Ok mate. I'll pull my undies down for you."

"No, you've got to take them off Matt. You can throw them on the bed over there."

"Ok mate." Matt lifted his arms high above his head, stretched and yawned. Then he glanced down at my crotch and chuckled.

I smiled at him politely. "What?"

"Man, you've got a big cock. It's massive." He took a deep breath and pointed to his feet. "Is this where you want me then?"

I sat up on the chair attentively. "Yep. Start with the shirt. Take it off and throw it on the bed."

Matt mumbled. "I've never known anyone else that could come up with such crazy shit." He grabbed the back of his collar, paused, looked at me, and said "I presume you mean now?"

"Yes Matt. Now."

He quickly hauled his shirt over his head. It messed up his black hair, resulting in short bits poking up everywhere. I liked it. He wasn't fussed. He smoothed over the untidy strands with his hands. I caught a whiff of his musky scent as his shirt flew past me and landed on the bed. I liked that too. He folded his arms across his naked chest, hiding his nipples. "There we go mate. There goes the shirt."

"Arms to your side please. Sorry."

"I hear ya mate. Absolutely crazy!" He shyly unfolded his arms. He checked and refastened his bursting zipper and then dangled one hand at his side. With the other he rubbed his bare chest nervously. "I think I need to work out more," he said, looking uncharacteristically self conscious.

"No, don't work out." I liked him as he was. "You don't need to work out."

"Really? I wish you'd tell the coach that. Can you have a word in his ear? He reckons I need to work out. He gives me heaps. Most of it's crap. Too much beer. Not fit enough. You know the story. I played good today. Did you see it? Straight through that hopeless guy's tackle. He couldn't stop me. Scared shitless, he was. Man, I was good. No bastard would ..."

I interrupted him. "Matt?"

"What?"

"Stop mucking about. You're stalling." I raised my eyebrows and nodded towards his legs. "Your jeans!"

Matt nervously scratched his chest. "Jeans? You want me to take them off do you mate? Are you ready then, are you?"

"Yes, yea. I'm ready."

"Ok mate. Just making sure." He looked down, beyond his unclothed upper half. He unzipped his fly and poked a finger through it. One final check. He undid the button, opening out his fly completely. "Shit!" He quickly closed his fly and refastened the button. He looked over at me, shocked. "Man! There's a wet patch."

"You too?"

"It's all sticky mate. All over the front of my undies."

I had glimpsed it, about an inch of the stuff at the front of his straining, green, boxer-briefs. I tried to tell him not to worry about it, but my mouth had gone dry and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. When I opened it, nothing came out.

"Bugger it!," he said. With one hand he rubbed his bare chest nervously. With the other he undid his fly button. Then with both he pushed downwards on the waist of his loosened jeans, looking at me as he did it. They slipped unhindered down his legs. 

The scene in front of me was totally stare-worthy. His knob looked large. The patch of soaked cotton stuck to it, hugging every contour, even the pee-slit bisecting the middle of the seeping, slimy mess. It looked brilliant. My penis responded positively and throbbed inside my pants.

His jeans soared over me just as I breathed in. They smelt of Matt and ... well ... leaking aroused dick. So hot. My bulge tightened. Matt looked better than any guy I'd ever seen and I lusted for him.

"Mate?"

Matt's voice awoke me from my daydream. His mouth was half open and his tongue appeared to sweep suggestively between his lips. Probably wishful thinking. "What?"

"Do you want me to pull my undies down now?"

Such a simple question didn't need such a complicated answer, but it happened so naturally. I stood slowly and left the armrests behind as I stepped forward towards his near naked body, my eyes transfixed on his moist, seductive lips.

Matt's head made a sudden jerk backwards, his eyes surprised, maybe frightened. "Mate? Jeff mate?"

I stepped again and rested my wrists on each of his broad shoulders. He relaxed his head forward. The tension in his face evaporated, his lips parted and loose. He closed his eyes and waited.

I slid my arms over his shoulders until my shirt touched his naked, virile chest. Our hard cocks pressed and his undies soiled my pants with his juice. I closed my eyes too and pecked at his bottom lip.

Matt was unresponsive, his eyes shut, expressionless, like some sort of fleshy shop mannequin.

I kissed his lip again, but this time I sucked at it's soft, wet surface. Our chins touched and I felt his prickly stubble scratching my skin. I tilted my head and locked my mouth into his, while I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him in close. Gradually there was animation in Matt's lips as they surrendered to my advance. He placed his hands around my waist and I heard him sigh approvingly. I felt his tongue against mine as it darted in and out of my mouth, and we tasted each other. Our lips parted to a kissing sound as they unlocked and Matt slowly opened his eyes. I looked closely into them and I smiled. 

"Mate?," he said.

I placed my finger across his lips. Then I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it backhanded over the chair and onto the bed behind me. As I slowly fell to my knees, I kissed all the way down his upper body, over every square inch, as though mowing a lawn and being careful not to miss a single blade of grass. I took deep breaths and inhaled him until I nuzzled into the oozing puddle further down, smudging some of it onto the end of my nose. I closed my eyes as the vapour shot rapture through my groin.

I drew back a little and watched. As I did so, another drop of precum seeped through his straining underpants and spread down the slit it came from. His erection stretched his undies almost to his belly button and pulled his balls up against his body.

When I raised my eyebrows and looked up at him, I found Matt with his eyes closed. He reached his hands out blindly and placed them on my head, running them softly through my hair.

I glided my finger over the creamy puddle in front of me. I spread some of it over the cotton, down his covered shaft, prodding at it with the tip of my finger. When I heard Matt moaning pleasurably, I pulled the waistband of his undies upward and outward, scraping his glans and accidentally wiping off some of the juices, before peeling Matt's wet, sticky undies over his beautiful penis. A drop of precum dribbled down onto his foreskin, which gathered in folds under the mushroom head it normally protected. His aroma now flooded the room, sending another blissful shiver through me.

His cock jutted out from his abdomen and bounced merrily with every slight movement. Occasionally a drop of precum flew off onto the floor. His erection had an upward curve to it and it's eye taunted me. 

Matt was so horny, and magnificently hard. When he held my head for support and stepped out of his underpants, it meant that he was totally naked. It also meant that his stiff cock bobbed up and down, just inches from my face.

It was begging to be touched. I went straight for the clear liquid dripping from the slit, and spread it around his glans with a fingertip, giving it a nice sheen. When I took it in my hand and stroked it, the contrast of loose skin on steel rod felt so good. Warmth seeped through my palm and into my veins. 

His foreskin acted as it's own dispenser, mopping up precum as it completely covered the head on the upward strokes and lubricated itself. As I wanked him, his shaft got increasingly slippery. It made Matt moan and the atmosphere hotter.

I quickened the tempo, keen to pleasure him. With my free hand, I cupped his balls, massaging the underside of his scrotum with my fingers and even further back over his prostate, providing him extra stimulation. He pulled my head in closer. I knew what he wanted. I looked up at him and he nodded.

I hesitated. How did Matt's cum taste? He had given me the confidence to try it. I poked my tongue out and dipped it in. Nothing. I tried again. This time I wiped over his piss slit and allowed it to settle on my tongue before swallowing. Neutral. Not bad. Slightly salty, slightly sweet. I could take more. I glanced up at him and I wrapped my lips around his cock's swollen tip. 

I slid my lips down his curved dick until the tip tickled my tonsils and only his balls were showing. I nestled my nose into his musky, black pubes and breathed the aroma. I pumped his cock with my mouth and caressed the loose skin with my tongue. My spit and his precum mingled and some of that combination trickled down his balls. I placed my hands behind him, clasped his arsecheeks for leverage and inserted my fingers into his crack. I pulled his hips towards me and his uncut, hard cock plunged my mouth.

Matt moaned and shrieked as he held my head in both hands. "Fuck! Mate! Swallow my fucking cock!" Just as quickly though, he took a step backwards and his cock sprung out of my mouth with a pop. He turned around, bent over slightly and arched his back, poking his bum out, presenting it to me on a plate.

This was the best view I had had of his arsehole so far. It got even better when he reached around and placed a hand on a butt cheek, spreading his crack wider. His low hanging balls swung underneath as he masturbated with his other hand. I stared at his arsehole, my cock almost bursting the seams of my pants.

I stood behind him and passed a friendly hand over his arse. "Nice!" I swept a finger up his crack and then reached through and felt his balls.

Matt tilted his head back. "Fuck!"

I fondled and stared at his arse while I undid my pants with my free hand. I kicked them off and lowered my undies to the floor. My cock ached and I stepped up behind him and glided my erection between his cheeks, leaking my own juice into his crack. I slipped on a condom and guided my stiff cock to his hole. Matt gasped.

I scanned the floor, picked up the lube, unscrewed the cap and squirted a large glob onto Matt's anus. 

He jumped.

"Sorry." I spread more of the jelly onto my fingers and I whispered into his ear. "I'm going to loosen your arsehole a bit."

He pushed his arse out further.

My finger went in easily. I thought Matt might freak out. Instead he took half a step backwards and drove his arsehole onto my slippery digit. I forced it further until my knuckles hit his butt cheeks. I wriggled and turned it, spreading the lube to all corners and I massaged his prostate. 

"Mate!" Matt humped against my finger, so that it glided in and out of his arse, while he masturbated himself at the front.

That was all the encouragement I needed. I took my finger out and re-entered with two. I finger fucked him, feeling his anal muscles contracting and gripping around my fingers. In no time, his arse relaxed and he sighed in frenzied delight. When I tried three fingers at once, I twisted them around and noticed no sign of pain in Matt's voice. I knew his arse was ready. I guided the head of my itching cock to the doorway of his virgin, lubed arsehole. 

"Fuck mate! Push it in!," Matt yelled, bent over, arse out, one hand pulling at his buttcheek, opening his crack for me.

I obliged. I propelled my hips forward. The glans of my swollen cock was swallowed inside him.

"Man! Fuck this! I think I'm going to cum."

"Already? No! Wait! Don't cum yet," I said.

Matt shifted his hands and again rested them on the front of his thighs. "Push it right in mate. Push your cock into my arse. Fuck me!"

My cock entered him just as easily, and all the way, until my hips hit his buttcheeks.

Matt moaned joyously and rocked his pelvis as my cock penetrated him. We got quite a rhythm going. As my balls slapped against his thighs, there was a much louder slap as Matt's stiff cock ricocheted off his abdomen. It's always a bonus when my partner stays hard after insertion. And boy, was Matt hard. He was so hot too. So hot that I couldn't believe I was actually fucking him. 

"Man, that feels so good," Matt yelled, as he took my thrusting weapon inside him.

I suggested we move to the bed. Matt agreed. He cleared away our clothes then he rolled onto it, dripping precum all over the duvet. He lay on his back and shoved a couple of pillows under his backside. Then he spread his legs wide, bending them and clamping them up with his elbows below his knees, presenting his pounded arsehole. "Fuck me mate," he begged. He was still as hard as a rock.

And so was I. I crawled onto the bed between his legs, knowing this was the position I like best. I love being able to see the other guys cock while I'm fucking him. I shimmied forward on my knees, grabbed his ankles and forced his legs back and wide, spreading his arse. I leaned over until my glans rested against his pleading hole. When I pushed my hips forward, my cock slipped in unaided. It disappeared completely inside him until my pubes tickled his ball sac.

Matt was delighted. "Mate, you're making me so fucking horny. Fuck me! Stick your big fucking cock in my arse!" 

He tugged on his leaking dick twice. It was all he could take. "Man, I'm going to cum." But he stopped just in time and saved himself as he edged. Instead he tenderly rubbed the side of my arse and over the cheeks as far as he could reach. 

Feeling his hand on my most private areas as I thrust in and out of him heightened my sense of well being. It made me pound harder and it made Matt scream. "Keep going. Keep fucking me. Drill your cock into me man. Push it in deep. Oh man! You're making me so horny. Your cock is massive. Sink that mother into my arse. Jeff mate! Yes! Keep going until you make me cum. Fuck my arse."

His words were so hot it made me fuck him even harder. Matt was so fucking hot! I continued unabated. My balls bounced against his arse, my pubes smashed into his scrotum and my cock thrust in and out of his oiled hole like a piston. I started to sweat profusely, especially under my arms and inside my crack. The room smelt of hot man sex.

Matt's cock glistened with precum as it bounced up and down below his navel. He touched his cock and gave it just one wank. He suddenly started to pant. His breathing became shallow. He pushed his throbbing hard dick up vertically, it's curve meaning it's slit pointed backwards towards his face. "Fuck! Jeff mate! I'm cumming. You're making me cum mate," he screamed. 

As his arsehole pulsed around my cock, his dick shot out streams of hot, sexy cum in long and wide arcs. The first shot hit the wall behind him, the next his forehead, then his nose and mouth, and then his chest. There were about ten powerful projectiles, depositing warm torrents of semen most of the length of his body. His skin was covered in white, creamy cum, but this time it was all his own. Matt sighed with contentment and he smiled.




How Matt Became My Lover Ch. 03



I scooped up some of the slippery mess from his stomach with my fingers. I withdrew half my cock from his arse, dangled my hand above the shaft and let Matt's creamy cum stream down onto it in globules. Then I rapidly shoved my cum covered phallus in again and continued to fuck him. 

I orgasmed almost immediately. I thought about how I was actually fucking such a hot guy. My entire body was engulfed in gigantic waves of pleasurable spasm. I withdrew my exploding cock from Matt's arse, quickly ripped off the condom, and shot stream after stream of semen all over him, on top of his own mess.

As I looked down on him, trying to catch my breath, Matt spread the mixture of cum over himself with his hand and wiped it over his torso, spreading it to every spare inch. He put the same hand in his mouth and painstakingly licked it clean. Then he scooped some down from his nose and forehead into his mouth and swallowed it. He grinned back through his smeared lips.

I let go of his legs and Matt wrapped them around my waist. Then I collapsed on top of him, both of us completely spent. Our bodies bathed in each others sweat and cum and the aroma of man to man sex. 

I lay my right cheek between his nipples and I panted for air. My head rode his lungs as though I was prone on a surfboard on a gently undulating ocean. My heart pounded his stomach until I heard the soothing rhythm of Matt's heart in my ear. Gradually, our pulses became one, like the drum track of a slow ballad, keeping perfect time.

Matt placed his comforting palm on my sweaty back. As he rubbed, a warmth radiated from it, seeming to heal my exhausted, naked flesh. He patted and twirled the curls around my exposed earlobe and he ran his hand softly through my brown hair. It must have been ten minutes before either of us spoke.

"Matt?," I said, whispering into his bicep.

He stroked my arm affectionately. "What Jeff?"

As I lifted my head and looked up at him, I found him deep in thought. "Did your mother beat you too?," I said.

His hand froze on my arm and for the first time I sensed weakness. "No, the old lady never beat me. I love my mum," he said, his voice cracking. 

Suddenly, his bottom lip quivered and his eyes welled up. His tears sparkled with reflections of the forty watt bulb above us. A single tear ran down the side of his nose and dribbled slowly down his cheek. It soon became a stream. He took a deep, trembling breath, seeking a calmness that didn't come. Then he unhinged his legs from around my waist.

I rolled off onto the duvet and snuggled up to him on my side, propping myself up on an elbow to look down on his sad face. Then I spread my arm across his sobbing chest.

"Matt? What's wrong?"

He lay flat on the bed, naked and vulnerable. He stared into space, his glazed, red eyes matching the colour of his watery cheeks.

"Nothing," he said, almost choking.

I slid my hand over his bare chest, disturbing bits of drying cum, hoping to pacify him. "It must be something. Would you like a glass of water?"

"No."

"A beer?"

"No. I don't want anything."

"Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"

There was silence.

"Is it your father?"

"Kind of."

"What do you mean, kind of?"

He didn't answer. He pulled up the side of the duvet and wiped his tear laden face and then looked at me forlornly.

As I watched him crying, I found it difficult to reconcile this meek and vulnerable version of him with the confident and cheeky one I'd met less than a week ago. It just goes to show. Not everyone is as they seem. I felt for him. And I think I knew why.

"Matt, is it because you're ... gay?"

He covered his eyes with a forearm and his bottom lip shivered as he drew another deep breath.

That said it all. In one week, I'd gotten to know Matt better than just about anyone else, ever. I grabbed his wrist and pulled it away, placing his arm at his side. "Don't hide. Don't hide Matt" As soon as I said that, I realised how hypocritical I was being. I wiped the back of my forefinger over his tearful cheek, trying to brush away his sorrow. As I did that, a tear ran down my own face.

"I don't know how to get what I want without playing that dumbarse kids game," he sobbed. 

"It was fun," I said, trying to cheer him up.

He choked up. "It's the furthest I've ever got."

I straightened out some stray curls in his hair and smiled. "So, you think you can go further than having a guy's cock in your arse?" 

As he smiled at my joke, his eyes narrowed, sending more tears down his cheek. "I thought you'd quit after I got you naked. But you kept going."

"So, what are you going to do then Matt? Do you think playing truth or dare is the only way to get sex? Are you still going to be doing that when you're fifty?"

He looked at me, his eyes darting over my face, searching for an answer.

"Matt?" I brushed his short fringe across his forehead and caressed his teary cheek. I put my hand on his heart. "You know, you don't have to play games. It's what's under my hand that counts. Follow that. Follow your heart."

I watched his bottom lip quiver and I leaned in slowly and kissed it.

Matt's body melted into the bed under us, as he locked his mouth onto mine. I closed my eyes and enjoyed his passion as our tongues danced a slow waltz. Our lips parted and the kiss echoed across the floorboards.

Just as I glanced down his body, Matt's swelling helmet popped out of it's foreskin. "That's going to be handy later," I teased. I wiped some tears off his cheek with my thumb. "Do you wanna stay the night?"

Matt looked me in the eye, smiled and nodded.

I encouraged him to roll over and I snuggled in behind him. I spooned him, wanting to press every part of my body against his. I locked the front of my hips into his soft butt and folded my arms around his waist. I allowed his warm, beautiful body to soothe me and hoped he felt the same. He held my arms, pulling me in closer.

I nuzzled my nose into his neck and breathed him in. Then I kissed his shoulder and whispered directly into his ear. "You know, we can do it together. Just you and I. How about that?" I tightened my arms around him, at that moment not wanting to ever let go. He squeezed them and I knew everything was going to be ok. 

We snuggled in silence. Matt stroked my arms quietly. I nearly fell asleep but as the day's events replayed in my mind, I suddenly had a thought.

"Matt?" I whispered.

"What Jeff?"

"The game? Who won?"

I heard a very brief giggle. "I did. I won the game. I always do Jeff mate." 

We both laughed. It was so great to hear him laughing again.

And that's how Matt became my lover.