A Straight Jock's Hole

A dreary day pelted down on the city. Rain poured down in streaks along the balcony windows of the apartment.

Mo sat curled up in a chair gazing out at the wet, grey urban maze. He had his headphones on, a relaxing instrumental playlist on shuffle as a book lay open in his hands, wanting to be read. But Mo was a million miles away, his mind on other things. On who he was; on what he wanted; on Clayton; on what they had become; on what they had done with one another; on where things had almost gone; and finally on where things would never go, as much as he wanted them to.

His mind wandered as he looked at the plants outside on the balcony. The large leaves shook as drops splashed down on them. The plants gathered up rain, soaking up moisture and nutrients to grow stronger and taller, becoming at one with the elements in a symbiotic process that was part of the cycle of life.

Mo's eyes flicked across the wide leaves, the colourful flower petals and firm roots in the soil. He took in their beauty, their strength, their resilience.

It gave him food for thought. He was lost, always chasing through the wildness of the city for his next hit, his new excitement, whether it was a hookup or fuck session, or something else. That little splash of colour in his life, but the routine had become stale. He'd become sluggish, feeling old in the process.

It had only occurred to him when he'd started messing around with Clayton. It had given him something else in his life, not a hit of adrenaline or dopamine that was temporary from a fuck session. No, it was more like elation or a feeling of really being alive after being in a rut for so long. Clayton had been something special to him. He had felt right every time they'd fuck, or even just curled up with one another, simply being in each others' presence, as if they were puzzle pieces that fit together.

There was a groundedness that Mo had felt when he'd been with Clayton in that way, like he was the water that was providing nutrients to his flowers. His straight housemate had surprised him every time they'd been with one another, both teasing things out of one another that neither knew had been there, as if they'd both supported and grown with each other from their new experiences, becoming better, more open-minded people.

Mo was glad he'd made Clayton come to realise his bicuriousity, becoming more attuned to his sex-sex attraction and the joy of his hole.

Heck, even Clayton had taught Mo a few lessons, about how he enjoyed pleasuring a straight guy and seeing said straight guy tip over into a queerness was intoxicating to him. He had to admit he'd loved being the person to open someone up to that world.

With Clayton, he'd really opened up about his emotions, becoming vulnerable and honest and unafraid, unlike his usual fuckboy bravado of nonchalance and hiding his true feelings. It's a shame those feelings weren't reciprocated by his housemate.

He was happy that Clayton was discovering new worlds, but he wished those moments were with him ... and only him.

Mo shook his head now, snapping out of his reverie. He was getting sentimental. What had happened, had happened. There was no going back, and no point in moping about what was done. He'd just have to take it as a lesson to learn, something to grow from and move forward.

He sighed, turning back to his book that was getting very little attention.

It was only when he felt a tap on his shoulder, he realised Clayton had returned home.

He jumped, taking off his headphones. The calming music making way for the quiet of the apartment and his housemate's low chuckle.

'Sorry to scare you man,' Clayton smiled, dropping a gym bag onto the floor. He was soaking from the rain.

'No worries, I was just completely zoned out. How're you, dude? You get caught in the rain?' Mo flushed, clearly startled at his housemate's sudden appearance.

'Uhh, it's a complete wash out,' he shook his wet fringe, throwing droplets onto the rug.

'Well, don't stay in your wet clothes, you'll get sick.'

'Ok, Mom,' Clayton laughed.

Mo just rolled his eyes and turned back to his book.

'Nah, I'll be out of these in a sec. Gonna have a nice, long, hot shower. Gotta get all fresh anyway. I'm meeting up with Jamie later this evening.'

'Oh. Really?' Clayton perked up.

'Yeah, I'm gonna head over to his for a bit. We're gonna ... have a bit of fun. If you catch my drift,' Clayton winked.

'Right,' Mo stared into space. 'Funny, he didn't mention anything to me,' he checked his phone but there were no messages from his friend.

'Oh, yeah. Hope you don't mind, but we're just gonna have a session just the two of us. Is that ok?'

Mo took a beat. Considering what his housemate was saying. They'd started off by having a threesome, Mo introducing his friend to Clayton so they could all have fun together, messing around and fucking. But now, Clayton was organising sessions with Jamie by themselves. Had he been ousted already? That fast?

'Uhhh, yeah, sure, no problem. Have fun, dude,' Mo lied as best he could, but he could hear it in his voice he was disappointed.

'Cheers, man. Plus I know I was getting on your nerves, begging you to fuck me all the time. I'm sure you'll be glad to have me off your balls, haha. Now you can have fun with other guys and I can too!'

'Ah, no. I mean ... I didn't mind, not really ...' Mo's voice trailed off, not wanting to express himself any further. His housemate was clearly set on his mission to fuck around, and who was he to stop him?

'Appreciate all your help, man. I would've never explored all this without you,' Clayton beamed as he turned and stalked off to the bathroom for his hot shower.

'Any time, dude ... any time.'

*****

'Ok, are we ready to do this?' Jamie asked, clapping his hands together.

Clayton and Jamie were in the latter's bedroom. They had undressed to get down to business. As excited as Clayton had been, it felt strange to be having a session without Mo's guidance and reassurance. It was just him and Jamie, and he couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated by the larger domineering man.

He also noted how unkempt Jamie's room was. There were clothes strewn on the floor and random plates and glasses scattered around. This is where the stud took guys back to get dicked down? Mo always kept his room pristine and well organised. Maybe all gays weren't as tidy as his housemate.

Clayton had to ignore the mess that was the room so he could focus on the dick.

'Dude, snap out of it,' Jamie said as he tussled Clayton and grabbed his hair, pulling him down to his crotch and shoving his dick in his mouth.

'Uhhh,' Clayton gagged, nearly choking from the sudden intrusion. 'Chill, man,' he said, noting how eager Jamie was compared to how Mo had taken things slow.

'Man, don't be a bitch. I thought you wanted this.'

Clayton just grumbled and went to work on Jamie's dick, getting it all slicked up as it grew hard. As things went on, it wasn't so bad, but he had to admit the atmosphere was different. It was missing some of the spark that he'd had with Mo.

When it was time for Jamie to top Clayton, he climbed atop of him, pressing his body down on him and pushing into his hole without much foresight.

Clayton yelped and moved away. 'Damn, go easy. You're way too big, I need some time to loosen up.'

'Oh my God, do you ever stop complaining? You weren't like this the last time.'

'Yeah, because Mo took the time to help me loosen up. You can't just dive in.'

Clayton was getting frustrated. This wasn't how things had panned out with Mo any time they'd been together.

Eventually, he loosened up enough for Jamie to enter him. He had to bite the inside of his cheek though as the first of many thrusts was more painful than pleasurable. Gradually, as the big dick hit his prostate it became pleasurable, but overall the large lumbering top hadn't seemed to give much consideration to the fucking and just wanted a quick pump and dump.

Jamie pulled out when it was time to cum and sprayed ropes of cum onto Clayton's chest.

If being honest, Clayton was actually a bit relieved when the fucking had ended, and by obligation jerked off too, getting some bit of self-satisfaction from the session.

To top it off into an even worse occasion, Clayton did his obligatory post-coitous curl up against the top snuggle, but Jamie wasn't having any of it.

'Sorry, dude,' Jamie held his hands up. 'Not into that lovey-dovey romance shit. It was just a fuck that was on the cards today. Plus, I've got things to do. I'm gonna have a shower. Thanks for the fuck. You mind letting yourself out?' He couldn't have gotten away quicker.

Clayton was dumbfounded as he was left abandoned in a dirty bedroom, soaking in cum and sweat, with no cuddle at the end.

'Well this was fucking great,' he gathered up his things, making sure to wipe the cum off his body with Jamie's ripped bedsheets before he got dressed and left, miserable and disappointed.

*****

Clayton didn't give Mo the lowdown on his fuck session with Jamie. He knew they were good friends, so he didn't want to come between them or risk them having a falling out. So, when he saw him later that night when home, he just told him it'd been great when he'd asked.

As the days went by, Clayton messaged Jamie again to see if they could organise another session. Maybe the guy had just had an off day? Surely, he could bring his A game again like he'd done with they'd had a threesome with Mo.

So they messaged back and forth, him promising a time when they'd meet up, but he always seemed to have something come up at the last minute and had to cancel. It was true fuck-boy behaviour.

It kept going on until eventually Jamie said straight out he was interested anymore and hadn't really enjoyed their previous session and ended up blocking Clayton.

He was a bit floored to say the least. This was supposed to be his big adventure into fucking guys, and it had led to a disappointing hookup and being blocked? Fuckboys are fickle creatures, he told himself.

Not wanting to give up, he joined a dating app for hooking up with men and tried meeting up with a few over a number of weeks. One guy, athletic, hot, similar to his physique said Clayton had a hot ass and couldn't stop thinking of fucking it. But when they'd met, the guy had trouble getting it up so Clayton ended up leaving without getting off.

Another guy had a weird obsession with biting, which Clayton hadn't been aware of. He only found out when he was getting slammed by him and the top kept taking chomps out of his arms, neck and back, causing him to have numerous, painful-looking bruises across his body. He had run out of there as soon as the guy had cum, not wanting to risk getting a big bite on his dick.

Then there was a guy who was a complete narcissist, not taking any consideration of Clayton's wants or pleasure, who kept telling him to focus only on his pleasure and not touch his own dick. He'd practically strolled out of there before things even got going.

He was well and truly done with his string of poor and disappointing hookups. Maybe he'd just had bad luck with the guys, but what was for sure was they all paled in comparison to Mo.

Sighing as he made his way home after the last guy, he pondered. There was the rub. It had always been there. Every time he'd been disappointed with a guy, the one person that crossed his mind was Mo. This guy hadn't been as considerate as Mo; this guy hadn't fucked as good as Mo; this guy's room hadn't been as clean as Mo's; this guy was as warm or loving as Mo; this guy ... wasn't Mo.

He'd been a fool. He'd been blind to it all along. He'd taken it all for granted. Sure, his housemate had opened his mind up to a new way of being, but what he'd failed to see was that Mo was part of all that. He'd been there to help him, guide him, support him, take care of him, even with the threesome, it had all been Mo. He'd fallen in love with fucking guys, but he'd also fallen in love with just being with Mo. During sex, outside of sex, curling up with him, laughing with him, chatting with him. Those were his best memories and experiences.

He slapped his forehead with the realisation, and hurried off home. He had to talk to his housemate.

*****

Earlier that day

Mo watched as Clayton headed out for yet another hookup. He'd come back home weeks ago after fucking Jamie, which he was evasive about, but seemed pretty satisfied with. That had been the start of his gay awakening.

He'd gone out on hookups every few nights, getting messages on a dating app and meeting random guys.

Why should I block him from exploring his newfound sexuality? I should be happy for him, he grumbled to himself as Clayton told him not to wait up for him.

If he can have fun, so can I. I'm supposed to be the fuckboy in all this, he reminded himself. So, instead of moping he hit up one of his past regulars for a good fuck session. He turned up at the front door a while later, all eager for some fun.

Soon, they were going at it, kissing, sucking dick and fucking hard.

A fuck is a fuck, Mo shrugged as he enjoyed the session, but he had to admit, he was missing that chemistry he'd developed over the past while with Clayton. He was enjoying it purely on a physical level, but he missed the passion, the emotional bond and the comradery between him and his housemate. He missed those big wondrous eyes staring up at him as he fucked him. He missed his straight jock ... his Clayton.

So he decided he needed to let out his frustration and pound away into the twink's hole in his bed.

His fuck partner was moaning so loud he didn't hear his housemate arriving back home, moving through the house calling his name, before Clayton opened his door and cursed loudly, wide-eyed in surprise that Mo was fucking someone else.

Mo spun around and returned the same shocked expression, eyes showing terror and jaw agape on the floor. His dick still inside the twink, mid-thrust.

Silence passed over the scene as time seemed to stand still.

'Oh shit,' was what passed through both housemates' heads at the same time.