How I Got Carter

Chapter 9

By Roe St. Alee


As I run my hand across his smooth, muscular chest, I move my lips lower down his body. Across his abs, one by one, until my lips slide down past his waist and I slowly pull away after one last, long kiss at the top of where his pubic hair would be, that is, if he wasn’t completely clean shaven. Now it’s time to really get things started.

Carter gasps a little as I just graze the tip of his member with my mouth. He wants it, and he wants it bad. I take a short moment to savor the view of his cock a few inches in front of my face before opening wide and burying it deep into my mouth.

I bob my head up and down ferociously as Carter writhes with pleasure. My hands move now from his stomach across his hip bones and V-lines, then down to… more important areas. I pull off a little with my mouth and run my tongue over his cockhead while I stroke him with one hand and feel on his smooth, full balls with the other.

I thrust again, a little deeper this time. I want to take it slow since it’s Carter’s first time doing this. If it was Sam I’d probably just let him take the reins and show me what he’s got, but with Carter I’ll guide him a little bit.

“Yeah, that’s good,” I say reassuringly. “Just take it slow and steady for now, that feels awesome.”

Wait, I must have missed something.

Just a second ago I was going to town on Carter’s privates with my face. Now all of a sudden, he’s giving me head. Being caught up in the moment is one thing, but missing out on the cock-to-mouth transition completely is totally different.

Ok, now I’m not even sure what I’m sticking my dick into. I thought Carter was giving me head, but I’m reaching out to grab his hair and I’m coming up with nothing. Am I even having sex right now? While we’re on the subject, where am I, and how did this happen? The moment makes sense, but I can’t find any context...

Damn it all.

It’s a dream.

I blink my eyes in what looks like the very first moment of dawn and look over to check the clock. It’s 5:45 in the morning. Shit.

It’s probably the worst time in the world to wake up. I have to be up for school in 45 minutes, so part of me wants to just get it over with. The other part of me, however, doesn’t want to be grumpy all day at school and wants to go back to bed until my alarm goes off at 6:30.

Unfortunately, the latter might not be an option this morning. The dream may not have been real, but my dick sure doesn’t know that. It’s rock hard and sticking almost straight up in the air, making a tent in my bedsheets.

Somewhat begrudgingly, I reach down and take hold of my hardon with my right hand. I stroke up and down as I try to relive my dream. Giving Carter head would be amazing. I imagine the feeling of his perfect, cut cock in my mouth as I move up and down on it. I’d love to hear him moan as he starts to cum, then feel his hot, salty juice shoot into the back of my throat.

Then I could fuck him. I can only imagine what it would feel like penetrating him for the first time, slipping inside of his warm, tight ass. Pumping my dick into it again and again, slowly at first, but then with more force. I’ve seen his behind enough times to know how muscular it is, and I imagine how incredible it would feel to have his ass clamping down around my tool as I bang him. Then, as I feel my release draw near, I’d bury myself to the hilt in his tight virgin ass.

I sigh with pleasure as I feel my climax build. The tingling of my orgasm spreads through my body as I shoot my load across my chest and stomach. I soak in the feelings of release as the last images of Carter fade from my mind.

I sigh again, this time less contentedly and more along the lines of frustrated. I usually don’t cum much if I jerk off right when I wake up, but this morning is a different story. I’m covered.

I don’t have much of a choice but to get up and shower, the first step in my morning routine. I carefully walk to the bathroom so as not to spill all over the carpet, then hop in the shower and get cleaned up for school.

The water feels great as it courses over my naked body, and even short on sleep, I think today might be a good day. It’s Friday - always a good thing - but I also have plans to hang out with Ko after soccer, which means I’m going to have a nice, relaxing night. I just have to make it through eight hours of school and two hours of practice, then I’m home free.

Stepping out of the shower, I wipe the fog off the bathroom mirror with a towel and take a look at myself from top to bottom, all five feet eight inches of me. My short, black hair, as always, makes a slight widow’s peak in the front. It used to annoy me, but several girls have told me they think it’s cute, so that can’t be a bad thing. For the moment I’m in good shape as far as acne goes, and my face is nice and smooth from shaving yesterday. Some guys in my class can grow sideburns or even beards, but I’m still only shaving about once a week.

When I’m swimming a lot in the summer and winter I tend to get a little more muscular, but with all the conditioning we do in soccer I’m still in good shape, albeit a little on the thin side. I still do push ups and crunches every night before bed, and it shows in my abs. Even though it’s the middle of October, my speedo tan is still just barely hanging on, a little memory of summer printed on my skin. Since it was nice and warm in the shower, my cock and balls are hanging low at the moment, framed by my dark, neatly trimmed pubic hair.

I’d fuck me.

I roll my eyes at myself as I start getting dressed. It’s just sex, sex, sex lately. It’s all I can think about. Granted, I am a sixteen year old boy, and it’s only natural that getting my dick wet is constantly on my mind. But ever since Sam gave me head a few weeks ago, I can’t stop evaluating every person and situation for its probability of getting me past second base.

I pull on my underwear (I decided on some rainbow striped boxer briefs today) and jeans then head back to my room to finish getting dressed and ready for school. A bowl of cereal, and I’m out the door. It’s another perfect autumn day, with sunny skies and crisp, cool air. Today is going to be a good one, I’m just sure of it.


“Hey, dude. Earth to dude.”

“What?” I turn back to Koichi. I wonder how long he’s been watching me stare lustily at Carter. The last twenty seconds or so I could live with, but hopefully it hasn’t been weeks.

“Are you still coming over today after practice?” he asks, now that he has my attention.

“Yeah, for sure.”

Study hall has been boring today. I wrapped up a lot of big assignments earlier this week, so I don’t have anything of consequence to work on. Ko, unfortunately, is trying to rewrite his English paper before ninth period, and for that reason he hasn’t been much fun today. All I have to occupy myself is Carter, who’s sitting a few tables down from us and frantically scribbling away in his lab notebook. He must not have gotten his report done yet. I did mine last night.

We settle up our plans for the evening, and Ko dives back into his school work. I absentmindedly doodle on a piece of scrap paper and unsuccessfully try not to think about Carter for the rest of the period.

The bell rings signaling the end of study hall, and the second half of the school day flies by. Before I know it, I’m running my final lap of our post practice conditioning.

Heading in from practice, everyone’s focused firmly on the weekend. There’s no football game this week, so people are trying to get other plans worked out. It sounds like some of the guys on our team are heading across town to see a movie, and another group might be going to the mall, to do whatever it is that people do at the mall. Sorry if it somehow makes me less gay, but I can’t stand shopping.

Following my usual plan of attack, I hit the showers early and am already toweling off and walking back to my locker by the time a lot of the guys are starting to get undressed. Especially with where my head has been at lately, I do not need any awkward situations to “arise” in the showers.

Still, there’s nothing quite like a high school locker room. Shirts are flying off all around me, shorts are dropping to the floor, and after a little appetizer of briefs, jocks, or compression shorts from my teammates, even those come off, revealing a veritable buffet of naked, sweaty teen boys. I allow the tiniest portion of my attention to savor and enjoy it while I get myself dried and dressed.

I’m almost finished, but still no sign of Ko. He was definitely at practice, but I haven’t seen him since.

I hear a group of guys coming into the locker room from outside and I turn to look, but instead of Ko, it turns out to be a bunch of football players. Carter is among them, and he gives me a nod and smile before stopping at the bench in front of me with Robert, who, as usual, is in the middle of telling a long winded story.

I hear my phone go off in my bag, so I postpone clothing myself any further and read the text I just got. It’s from Koichi.

[ Have to talk to coach. Be done in a few. ]

That’s right, I almost forgot. Ko has been talking to me for the last few days about some new defensive scheme he’s dreamed up for the team. It sounded pretty promising in study hall on Thursday, so he must be pitching it to Coach Jansen. While I would never call Ko a jock, he has a good head for strategy, and if his heart was in it, I bet he could have been team captain.

Hold the phone, quite literally.

As I take my eyes off the text, I am stopped in my tracks by what I see before me. Robert’s story must be entertaining, because a certain Carter Mulkins has stopped what he was doing to listen. What Carter was doing was undressing for his shower. What stopped me in my tracks, was that he stopped right after the part where he took off all his clothes.

I’ve said before that I don’t like to stare. It’s not good for a multitude of obvious reasons. I do, however, have to make a minor adjustment to that statement: I don’t usually like to stare. But sometimes I’m not thinking, or sometimes I have a good chance to do it without getting caught. And sometimes, like right this very second, the goods are simply on glorious display, and I can’t conjure up the willpower to stop myself.

Thankfully I was just looking at my phone, so I can pretend to stare at the screen and text while I watch Carter’s butt. It’s so nice. And with the way I’ve been feeling all day, I’m just thankful I have the willpower to stop myself from running over there, knocking that boy to ground, spreading his cheeks with my hands, and just sticking my tongue in the damn thing.

I mean he way he’s standing is… downright provocative. Carter’s hand is on his hip, and his left leg is thrust back behind him, calling just the slightest bit of extra attention to gorgeous, perfect ass. As Robert hits the crucial moment of his story, Carter shifts his weight to his other foot, flexing the opposite leg and swinging his butt around to the other side. The movements are subtle and minor, but their impact is powerful. It’s like watching one of God’s greatest creations in action.

“What are you staring at?”

My heart skips about three beats before I realize it’s Sam. He whispered, and it doesn’t look like anyone else heard him. I’m embarrassed that he caught me looking, but thankful in a big way that he snapped me out of my boy-butt trance. The locker room is a dangerous place sometimes.

When I look back up, I’m relieved to see that Carter has a towel wrapped firmly around his waist. It’s safer for all of us that way.

“Hi, Sam.”

He pulls his bag up next to me and doffs his towel to get dressed. He’s completely naked and I’m surprised that I don’t feel anything. Here’s a guy who just gave me head, naked standing a foot away, and it doesn’t seem awkward at all. Whereas Carter simply needs to exist for me to be sexually overwhelmed by his presence. They’re both good looking guys, but Sam just isn’t putting out those vibes to me right now. Sex is all about context, I guess.

“Any plans this weekend?” he asks. Out of the corner of my eye I see that he’s pulled up his underwear, so I deem it safe to turn and face him as we talk. He’s wearing some very fashionable grey and blue boxer briefs, and his thin, wiry figure looks great in them. I make a mental note to ask him for fashion advice if I ever need it.

“Hanging out with Ko tonight, but nothing besides that. What about you?”

He shrugs. “About the same. I have plans tonight, but the rest of the weekend is wide open.” He looks side to side to make sure no one’s listening. “But I heard there might be a party going on tomorrow night.”

“A party?” I ask. Too loudly, I realize when I see Sam’s reaction. “Sorry,” I say, lowering my voice to a whisper.

“Yeah, but specifics are still a little sketchy. I’ll text you if it’s a sure thing.” I make a mental note that I should keep my Saturday clear just in case this mystery party actually happens.

I’m considering prying for a few more details, when Craig, our starting center forward and team captain walks up and interrupts. It’s impossible to ignore him, as his massive frame is practically towering over me and Sam, two of the smaller guys on the team.

“What’s up, Jackson?” I don’t offer any response, as Craig’s tone indicates that it was not a question to be answered, merely a polite acknowledgement that I am also in the vicinity, and that he wants to talk to Sam.

Craig and I have never been buddy-buddy, but he’s an alright guy. If there were any straight up jocks on the soccer team, he’d be one of them. He has short, curly brown hair, a square, meaty face and is just a big dude. He’s probably pushing 6’4”, and he hits the gym a lot more than anyone else on the team. He doesn’t talk much and he’s not good friends with any of our teammates as far as I know, but he likes to win and he knows a lot about soccer. When it’s hitting the fan out there on the field, he’s the guy you want telling everyone what to do.

“You ready?” he asks, turning to Sam.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam replies innocently, tossing the last of his things in his gym bag.

“I’m driving Sam home,” Craig says to me for no particular reason, before turning to head out the door. I don’t care what he’s doing, and I’m not sure why he felt the need to update me.

“I’ll catch you later,” Sam says cheerily, grabbing his gym bag and beaming at me. “Craig’s driving me home.” With a wink, he makes an about face and follows suit.


That’s why Craig wanted to tell me that he was driving Sam home.

Damn, that kid is good. I’ve gotten the notion he’s slowly but surely been making his way through the ranks of some of the football team, but I wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that Craig might be interested. He’s always brooding and lifting weights and stuff. Not someone I would peg as wanting a blowjob from a little ginger sophomore like Sam.

But while it’s unexpected, the imagine in my head is not an unpleasant one. Sam’s carrot-topped head bobbing up and down on Craig’s - what I can only assume is a huge dick. I’ve never seen him hard of course, but his cock seems to match his other proportions. I’ve snuck many a peek in the shower at Craig’s big, cut dick swinging between his muscular legs. I’d hazard a guess at eight plus inches of thick man meat depending on how much he shows and how much he grows. How the hell is Sam going to fit that thing in his mouth?

Oh well, I’m sure he can handle himself. Which is more than I can say for myself today. For real, I need to get out of this locker room, because if I see, hear, or insinuate one more thing that makes me think of sex, I think my head is going to literally explode.

Or I’ll get an erection, and knowing how high school jocks typically deal with those sorts of things, I would honestly prefer the former.

Before I can torture myself anymore with the hordes of sweaty, teenage, blowjob hungry boys before me, Ko taps me on the shoulder and jerks his head towards the door.

“I’m finally done, let’s go.” He nods towards the showers, which are occupied and then some since the football team showed up. “I’ll just do it at home, I’ll be waiting in line for twenty minutes if I do it here.”

We head out to the parking lot and he drives me back to his house. But not before swinging by Taco Bell, a Ko and Jackson tradition if there ever was one. Ko’s mom makes dinner every night except Friday, which is when her and Shin, his dad, take the night off and go out with their friends. But not before giving Ko $10 - a practical fortune - to spend at Taco Bell.

We head up to Ko’s room, and pausing only a second to slam a soft taco into his mouth, he shucks his clothes and hops into the shower. I unwrap my burrito and take a seat on the bed.

For how much is going on in Ko’s room, it could be messier. The walls are plastered with posters - bands, movies, anime - you name it, Ko has a poster of it. His desk is covered in art supplies and other assorted items, from pastels to rubber cement to a half completed plastic model of a gundam. His tastes are eclectic, and it’s not helped by the fact that he can only stand to do the same thing for about ten minutes before he gets bored.

Now that I have a little burrito in me, I’m ready for some gaming. I boot up Ko’s Xbox and get to work. I’ve been stuck on this level for a while, and while it’s a long shot, I would love to get past this spot before Ko gets out of the shower. It’s not looking good though, as I manage to rack up a few deaths in the course of a few minutes. I sigh and take a break, returning momentarily to my burrito.

Ko returns from the bathroom wearing only a pair of tight green Calvin Klein briefs. As thin as he is, they leave very little to the imagination, from hip bones to… well, other bones. Ko is skinny as hell, with dark features, and a naturally hairless body. Thankfully, considering how often he prances around the room in various states of undress, he’s not exactly my type. My type is more - how do i say it - Carterish.

But, I can’t say it doesn’t take a conscious effort to avert my eyes and look at something else. Today is just one of those days. I’m sure every teenager has them. Everything is going to be sexy, from my dreams to my best friend. While his look isn’t my usual cup of tea, I’d drink the shit out of that right now.

Thankfully, Ko doesn’t even notice me peeking, because he clearly has his mind on other things. Arms akimbo, he looks off into the distance and nods slowly to himself, as though he just made a decision. I know what he’s about to say before he even says it.

“You know what time it is?” he asks, cocking his eyebrow and looking at me rakishly.

“Adventure time?” I ask in turn.

“Oh yeah,” he says, reaching under his desk and pulling out a small metal box, stuck under there with a magnet. He opens the box and pulls out a tiny ziplock bag full of weed. “Adventure Time” is what we call getting high, that way we can talk about it in mixed company without anyone getting disturbed.

“Interested?” Ko asks, waving the bag in front of my face.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Ko shrugs his shoulders and gets to work rolling a joint for himself.

He always jokes that it’s his ADD medication. Ko bounces around from one thing to another all the time, but when he smokes he just gets in the zone and focuses. Granted, the “zone” usually involves playing video games, building models, or drawing pictures, but I can see his point.

“You sure?” Ko offers his hand out one more time, now with a neatly rolled joint resting on the palm. “You seem tense today. Maybe it could take the edge off.”

I shake my head. I’ve smoked with Ko a few times, but it’s not really for me.

“I’m good.”

Ko takes a few hits while I try to get to the next checkpoint. Even though he always offers to beat it for me, which I’m sure he could do in about twenty seconds, I stubbornly maintain hope that I can take care of it myself.

“Why so tense?” Ko asks in a raspy voice as he holds in his hit.

“I’m not tense,” I say, keeping my focus on the game. I won’t let him razz me, because I think that’s what he’s trying to do.

“Then why do you suck so much at video games?”


“Fine,” I admit, “I’m a little bit tense.”

Taking another hit, Ko chuckles to himself. “I didn’t ask if you were tense,” he continues, “I asked why you were tense.”

Can’t he let it go? I can’t tell if he enjoys watching me lose, or if he just enjoys torturing me in general.

“I’m tense,” I concede begrudgingly as my hero is brutally decapitated by a troll, “because I’m a little bit…” How can I put this delicately? “Pent up.”

Ko can’t contain himself at that. He spits out his smoke and chokes on it, hacking up half a lung as he alternates between coughing and laughing at me.

Finally, he composes himself, takes another hit, and nods his head in understanding. “Me too, brother.”

“Really?” I ask, genuinely surprised. “What happened to Kristin?”

Ko is almost never “pent up.” He gets it all out of his system regularly, with whomever he happens to be hitting at that particular moment. Last we talked it was a girl from the Catholic school in town. To my knowledge, they were doing some fairly sinful acts together on a fairly regular basis.

“Meh,” he says shrugging. “That’s in the past. Her parents met me and…” He laughs to himself before continuing. “They weren’t so fond of me. Plus her brother caught us banging in the garage one night, so it was doomed anyway.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.

I catch Ko’s eye and we both start cracking up. He burns through girls on a regular basis, so what’s one more body amongst the foundations?

He dabs out his joint and sighs, then walks over to the bed and flops down next to me.

“Whatever,” he concludes. “It never lasts, same old shit.”

He lays in silence for a time and I get back into my game. I have the first part of this section down pat, and if I get lucky at this spot, then I can use my special move here, and then I can…

“Damn it!” I cry out, as the troll kills me again, this time smashing me with a big hammer. “This game is fucking with my life right now!”

I restart the level, yet again, now fuming. My rage is counterproductive, and I die immediately.


Ko sits up a little on the bed, and I can tell, even without seeing him, that he’s looking at me.

“What?” I ask, frustrated.

“You’re not just pent up,” he says triumphantly. “You, sir, are actively frustrated.”

“What does that even mean?” I sputter back at him.

“Who is it?” he asks, not missing a beat.

I hate to admit it, but he’s right. Sexual frustration is one thing. I think every healthy teenage boy is sexually frustrated pretty much every moment his dick isn’t actively being put into something. But Ko knows me well enough to know that I wouldn’t get this bent out of shape about it if I wasn’t being “actively frustrated” (as he says) by someone in particular.

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” I finally respond, “but I’ll at least admit that you’re right.”

“He’s straight, huh? Whatever, man. Boys are easy, don’t get so worked up about it.” Out of the corner of my eye I can see Ko smiling a big, shit eating grin, presumably at my expense. “Get ‘em hard and they’re all yours.”

How can he say that? How can he distill weeks and months of suffering and longing into such an obnoxiously simple statement? If it was that easy, I wouldn’t be sitting here spiking my blood pressure over some stupid video game and raging to my subconscious about the unfairness of the universe and my bad lot in life. I’d be getting it on with Carter.

But something Ko just said clicks in my mind.

“How would you know?” I ask incredulously.

Ko’s running his mouth like he knows all about boys and how they tick. Besides being one, I’m not sure what special knowledge he could possibly have on how to turn a boy who’s impossibly attractive (and straight) on to getting in touch with his gay side.

Dying yet again, I turn to face him fully while the checkpoint loads. I want him to feel the full scrutiny of my gaze before he answers the question.

“You remember that party I went to last year when my cousin was in town?” Ko’s cousin is a few years older than he is and took him to a massive rager with a bunch of college kids. It sounded epic, and Ko told me about it maybe twenty times in the week after it happened.

“I told you all about how I hooked up with this really hot chick named Cary?”

“Yeah, what about it?” I vaguely remember it. In Ko’s world that’s just another weekend.

“Cary wasn’t a hot chick. He was… yeah.”

I blink stupidly in amazement. I knew Ko was all about sex, but I never would have thought he’d fool around with another guy.

“No way,” I finally spit out.

He just shrugs.

“It was fun - and easy - because we were on the same page,” he says.

“And what page was that?” I ask.

He grin somehow gets even shittier. “The one where we get naked and make our dicks feel good.”

I can’t deal with this. That has to be the most absurd thing he’s said all night, and possibly ever. I actually set my controller down (resulting in yet another grisly death to my hero) and turn to look at him. I want to fully bask in his absurdity. It isn’t that easy. I don’t care what Ko thinks he knows. He has never been more wrong in his life. He meets my gaze easily and dismisses it with an eye roll.

“You think you’re frustrated,” he says, reaching into my lap and snatching away the controller, “I have to sit here and watch you suck at this game.”

“Hey,” I cry. “Give that back.”

I reach for the controller, but Ko is too quick. He pulls it out of my reach. I try again, but he manages to keep me from grabbing it. After several unsuccessful attempts, I realize that even with my distraction and harassment, he’s still probably going to beat this damn level. I better step it up.

My obvious target, given Ko’s state of undress, is his nipples. I reach out and grab one between my thumb and index finger and give it a quick pinch before Ko pulls away.

“Ow! You dick!”

He squirms in all directions trying to avoid my titty twisters at all costs, but still somehow focuses enough energy on the monitor to stay alive. I can’t let this happen.

Launching a full on attack, I fake for the nipples and clamp onto his ribs, tickling the living shit out the bastard. He tries to resist for about half a second, but he finally abandons the game and focuses more on defending himself against my onslaught. With one hand off the controller he starts fighting back, initiating a full on brawl between the two of us.

I start in a favorable position, since I’m leaning over him, plus he’s still trying to hold the controller. I pin both of his arms down with my hands and try to get a knee down on his chest to pin his body to the bed. It works for a few seconds, but he kicks his legs frantically in the air, which eventually manages to shake me off.

He wastes no time counterattacking, dropping the controller to free his second hand. He leaps on top of me, and while I don’t like the way the fight is going, I hear the familiar sound of death come from the TV, which at least means he wasn’t able to beat the level.

We do battle for a few more seconds, and even though I have a weight advantage, Ko manages to get on top of me. I try a few times to shake him off, but he has hold of both my wrists and his legs clamped down around my sides. For his size, he is ridiculously strong and a good grappler.

“Asshole,” I say between heavy breaths.

He laughs down at me, similarly out of breath. “You started it.”

After a second, it becomes clear that neither of us are in any rush to move. I’m flushed, a little sweaty, and there’s a mostly naked boy straddling me. I’ve been in worse places.

Looking down, I can see that the tussle has certainly aroused certain parts of Ko. His tight, green briefs are stretched even tighter than usual, with a now swollen package trying to push its way out.

Ko notices where I’m looking, and his shitty grin comes back full force. He starts grinding lightly against my crotch with his own, and I can feel that I’m in a similar state. I’m just wearing athletic shorts, so there isn’t a whole lot of fabric separating us. It’s not something I ever thought would happen, but it feels good.

We don’t say anything, but we make eye contact and Ko lowers his face toward mine. Our bodies are closer than they’ve ever been, and even without the conversation we just had, there wouldn’t be any mystery that both of us are aching for a sexual release. Ko slides forward, positioning his ass directly on top of my crotch and exposing an even clearer view of his hardon straining against the fabric of his underwear.

He pulls my hands to his sides and I run them down to the waistband of his briefs. I hook my fingers in and pull downward just as Ko grabs my face and puts his lips against mine. I drive my hips upward into him he presses down harder into the kiss. We grind against each other, relishing the sudden, unexpected passion of the moment.

We break the kiss and hold each other’s gaze for about two seconds, before we both crack. It starts as a little snicker, then becomes a giggle, then the moment erupts into full on laughter from both of us. Ko rolls off from on top of me, and we both spend the next minute laughing hysterically on the bed.

Finally, we compose ourselves enough to talk.

“No way,” I gasp, still trying to catch my breath.

“Yeah, not happening,” Ko agrees. He shakes his head sadly and grabs at his crotch longingly before heading over to the dresser and pulling out some clothes. “And it would have been so convenient,” he sighs.

“I know,” I say. I’d give anything to bust a nut right now, but doing my best friend is simply not in the cards for either of us. I guess I’ll just jerk off again later. Hopefully that helps.

Considerably more dressed than before, Ko hands me the Xbox controller and points toward the screen.

“Now focus,” he says commandingly, “get your shit together, and stop thinking about your cock for five seconds so I can show you how to beat this level.”

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