Dude, Are You Serious?

© 2015


Jonathan Longhorn

Copyright © 2015 by Jonathan Longhorn (jonathan_longhorn at yahoo dot com). All rights reserved. Except for the use of less than two pages in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means is forbidden without the express written permission of the author. Express permission is granted to The Nifty Erotic Stories Archive for storage, indexing, retrieval, and display of this work.

Disclaimer: The material in this work is for mature audiences only and contains graphic sexual content and language. It is intended only for those aged 18 and older. All of the characters in this work are assumed to be at least 18 years of age.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and settings are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, names, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. In the real world having sex without using a condom can be very dangerous to your health. Don’t ruin your life or your future. Slip it on before you slip it in.

Note: There are some references in this story to things mentioned in my Sci-Fi/Fantasy story, Target Nemesis: The Tentacle Lord’s Revenge, which you can find here: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/target-nemesis-the-tentacle-lords-revenge.html. The story itself is about the movie being watched by characters in several of my stories - in which an alien warlord bent on revenge, ‘has his way’ with an Earth Forces Brigade hero. While I hope that you would enjoy reading that story, it may be a bit harsh for some readers and you do not need to read that story first in order to understand or to enjoy this story.

All trademarks used in this work are the sole property of their owners and have been used without permission or endorsement.

Chapter 11



Yeah—got that right.

Somehow, Charley Stockton managed to break from his straight-on gaze … studying the still rock hard, throbbing cock that pulsed from between Dillon’s thighs. He squinted upward along that thin trail to Dillon’s half in/half out navel and on upward across rippling abs and sweat covered chest until he focused on his friend’s cute face. His face, and—an adorable grin. Even under this peculiar, way out of character situation, Charley had to admit that the grin was just that … adorable.

He reached up to take the offered hand that was waiting to pull him to his feet. His knees argued as he straightened; he’d been kneeling for a long time. Yeah. Kneeling, and—sucking the dick of one of his closest friends and a teammate. Football. Baseball. How was he going to look at Dillon after this and not be fully boned in milliseconds. Or, boned and blushing fire engine red every time that he was around Dillon. In or out of the showers. The locker room. The aquatic center. B&T’s. The Cracklin’ Skull. Petkau’s Danglin’ Hook. The Boot Scootin’ Dog-n-‘Dillo….



They stared into each other’s eyes.

They barely breathed.

Gun metal gray eyes studied hazel.


Soul searching?


Each other’s, or—their own?

Yeah, maybe a little of both right now. Trying to figure out what the hell just happened and why was it so good and what do they do now, and … yeah … oh man was that good for him? That’s the thing. It was good. Weird. Mind blowing. But, oh fuck, was it good.

Charley wondered if his blush—which he was certain was sweeping across his face right now—matched the one doing the very same thing on Dillon’s. Dillon’s boy next door cuteness was maturing into a graceful, handsome face. Given his status as one of the school gods, blushing made Dillon ever more adorable if that was possible. Adorable and yes—handsome. Yeah, he was blushing as much as or maybe even more than Dillon. He could feel the heat in the tips of his ears. They must be scarlet by now. Probably glowing like embers in the bottom of a BBQ pit.

Finally, Charley stirred. Overwhelmed. Rattled. Bewildered. A shiver cascaded down his spine. He rolled his eyes. He tried to grasp what had just happened.

Had he really done what he had just done? Open mouth. Insert cock. How could that happen? He was straight! He had a girlfriend! Emphasis on ‘had’, probably, at this point. Yeah, ‘had’ was the operative, there. He felt reasonably certain that he was ‘single’ now.

Maybe they somehow ended up in the Twilight Zone?

He reached up to palm at the film of sweat that coated his forehead and then raked his fingers farther up—through his humidity sopped hair. His eyes returned to Dillon. To his body. To his dick. Glistening. Pulsing. Throbbing … still. He couldn’t hold back the soft snort that was kicking at the back of his teeth.

“What the heck was ‘that’? Geez. You cum like a friggin’ volcano, dude.”

Dillon’s head tilted. He was unsure what sort of comment he expected; if he had ‘expected’ one at all. But, he was fairly sure that wasn’t it. He was just as uncertain how he should interpret and respond to Charley’s claim. Yeah he did. He came like a friggin’ elephant. And, Charley ended up swallowing … or wearing … almost every drop of his white hot lava. There must be gallons of ‘essence of Dillon’ sloshing around in Charley’s stomach and splattered on his chest. Straight Charley John Stockton, IV, full of his cum. Dripping with it.

How hot was that?

Charley Stockton just gave him a blow job! A friggin’ blow job!


He swallowed.

Charley swallowed!

He just couldn’t say that. Not now, at least. Not to Charley. At least, not at this point anyway. Later. Maybe later. Yeah. Maybe.

So, he chose to go with a mediocre admission of not admitting anything until Charley said more. Be the best damned chicken shit in the quad-county area. Damn straight! Yeah, that was a solid plan. Don’t admit anything. Don’t jump to … whatever. Wait for Charley.

“Yeah, well….”


His eyes dripped down Charley’s chest. That beautiful, perfectly chiseled, twin slabs of granite chest. That chest, still coated in his cum. Copious amounts of his cum. He reached out absently and rested the palm of his left hand on Charley’s right pec and then began to swirl and rub the thick, creamy fluid into his friend’s skin. Charley drew in a sharp breath when Dillon’s thumb came into contact with first one and then the other of his blisteringly hard nipples. And, he continued rubbing across pecs, abs, shoulders … even up into Charley’s pits.


Hell if he knew.

And for that matter, why was Charley standing there, submissively—whimpering occasionally—and letting him do that?

Hell if he knew the answer to that one, either.

“Do you … always cum … like that?”

Dillon’s brow danced in the darkness. He was really glad how dark it was right now post-thunderstorm. Charley couldn’t see the kaleidoscope of glowing red blushcicles spreading across his face. He offered a shrug and a nod.

“Yeah. Pretty much. Every time. It’s why I have to keep a really thick towel close by for when I need to….” That blush went 20 shades darker. “To … you know.”

Charley’s eyes bugged.

Dude, are you serious?

Dillon exploded with geysers of cum when he came?

Holy fuck! Every time?

His friend could fill a fucking swimming pool at that rate!

Every time?

Dillon nodded as if to confirm that silent question. He was pretty sure his face took on the color of a cherry tomato by now. Or had he already hit candy apple?

“You’ll see when I fuck you,” he said with a faint tremor in his voice as he rubbed upward from Charley’s left pit. Up and over to his bicep. Still, he had no fucking reason for cum-painting his friend but he was doing it and Charley wasn’t arguing, or—throwing him off the bridge. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he was marking his freshly claimed territory? Yeah, he kinda liked that idea. Claiming his territory. “It’ll spew out of your butt hole like Old Faithful itself.”

Charley swallowed.

My butt hole? Surely he doesn’t actually think that….

Fuck! He actually felt the lips of his pucker ring flutter at that thought. What … the … hell? It was almost as though his butt wanted to find out for itself.

No. He was straight. Forget about it. No way. Besides, there was no friggin’ way that he could take that thing. No … friggin’ … way!

Could he?

Yeah, right. Nuh uh. That monster would split me in two…. How could any guy take something that gargantuan up his butt? It wasn’t physically possible. Was it?

No. No way. Not possible. Just … not … gonna … happen.


Charley inhaled deeply. Breathe. Yeah, breathing was a must. You had to do that now and then. The thick night air offered so many scents right now, after the storm, the river below them, the plants and trees around them, some cattle in the distance. Even the smell of damp wood on the abandoned tracks, after the earlier rain. But there was also … more. The scent of sex. Dillon. The scent of Dillon’s cock and balls still danced around his nostrils. And, the scent of cum. Cum that his friend had just rubbed into his body.

That cum bath presented a whole new set of WTF’s.

Why in the hell did he stand there and let Dillon rub his cum into his skin? Why in the hell, now, was that cum scent wafting up to his nostrils to dance with those other Dillon scents? The normal Dillon scents he had known all his life. Now mixing with the much more intimate, much more personal Dillon scents. And, why was he sucking it in as fast as he could and almost… What? Savoring it?

He forced those questions and thoughts back into the recesses of his addled brain and chuckled.

“Like I could take that elephant trunk up my butt. You’d split me down the middle.”

They both laughed at that thought and shifted nervously as each lingered on the vision that flickered to life of a dripping monster cock and two halves of one Charley.

“I’ll help you relax first,” Dillon said with a soft confidence. “You ‘will’ take it. Guaranteed. You’ll open up for it.” He grinned conspiratorially. “You’ll be left shocked, awed, dripping and hungry for a repeat. I promise, dude. I’ll make it friggin’ earth shakingly mega orgasmic for you. You’ll come back begging for more. You might not think that now, but I promise, you will. You will be begging, Charley.” He nodded at the faint head tilt that came back to him in response. “Yeah. Begging … Charley. ‘Begging’.”

“Hell—‘if’ I survived that monster raping its way into my guts, I’d be left with a manpussy instead of a butt hole.” Charley shivered at that thought. He wondered if anyone would be able to tell? He glanced upward and looked for a floating neon sign announcing that Charley Stockton had sucked a dick tonight. No, he didn’t see one. Maybe there was nowhere out here on the Trestle Ridge Bridge to plug it in. Yeah. Maybe. He suddenly pictured Ryan and Bennett. Their faces. Their bodies. Their dicks. His pucker twitched and shuddered. Fuck with that? Now he was picturing not only Dillon’s dick ravaging his defenseless hole but now Ryan and Bennett? What … the … fuck!

Dillon laughed and slapped the center of Charley’s chest, now finished with his cum-wash.

“You’ll survive,” he said with a rising twinkle. “You’ll howl like a banshee for a short while but once I break you in? You’ll be begging me to fuck you and breed you. Repeatedly. You won’t be able to get enough of my cock Charley. I guarantee it.” His thumb scratched over Charley’s still diamond hard right nipple and he heard the whimper. Faint. Soft. Distinct. “You are right about one thing, though.”

Charley’s eyes slowly opened and he focused on his friend standing no more than a foot away from him. He gazed over Dillon’s shoulder briefly and along the rails there on the Old Trestle Ridge Bridge. He slowly shifted his eyes back to meet Dillon’s.

“And, that, um….” He sucked in air at another nail scratching over his left nipple. Fuck! They had always been sensitive. But, never like this. Why now? Why here? What the hell? “Um…. What’s that?”

Dillon bent down to grab his jeans and underwear, pulling them into place, tucking himself in, and stepping into his shoes. Then readjusted his semi-hard dick so it was more comfortable in his tight jeans. He glanced at Charley picking up his own clothes, turned and started walking toward the stone steps at the edge of the bridge for the precarious walk back down to river’s edge and their vehicles.

“You’ll definitely have a manpussy when I finish fucking and breeding you,” he said with a wink back over his shoulder. “No question.”

Charley’s jaw dropped. Did Dillon really just say that? Did he really think Charley was going to let him…?

Dude, seriously?

As he reached down for his shirt, he realized how rebar reinforced his own cock was in his tight pants. He also realized that his pucker lips were zinging all over the place. Like it ‘really’ wanted to find out for itself.

Fuck me? Breed me? Repeatedly? Leave me with a manpussy? Begging for more?

What the Hell-n-fuck with that?

Author’s Note: Please show your appreciation for this wonderful service and help Nifty continue to exist by sending a donation using the Nifty donations page at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html.

This is just the start of a story which may or may not be continued. If there is enough interest, there MAY be additional chapters. The interest shown in it will be a determining factor in continuing the story.

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