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 and others, to things mentioned in another of my stories, 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 brutal 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 12

The vibrations were driving him crazy. They had been the entire time that he and Dillon were on the Old Trestle Ridge Bridge. He hadn’t bothered to pull out his cell phone to check who was calling his phone … and calling … and calling. Yeah, right. Like he didn’t have any idea who it was.

Charley walked out on Chelsea. Left her ‘hanging’ right smack in a case of total vibrating clit drippage. She was furious, to say the least. And the texts and calls kept coming. Must have been at least 60 sets of vibrations by now.

Fuck—the girl needed to get a grip already!

Following Dillon toward the stone steps to begin their trek down to river’s edge and their vehicles, Charley finally relented. He pulled his phone from his left front pocket—his throbbing cock whimpered from the sudden loss of those on-again, off-again caressing vibrations.

He checked the incoming details; yeah, he thought so. Chelsea was burning up her phone trying to track him down.

Fuck it.

Right now? He really didn’t care. The last thing he wanted was to get into it with her. Let her hissy fit all she fuckin’ well wanted. Let her spit nails. Let her breathe flames.

He let out a soft but erstwhile ‘hmph’.

Serves her right.

Yeah, that’s it! Puff out that chest! Flex those nuts!

Geez ‘n fuck! You have a friggin’ fight with your girlfriend so how do you decide to get back at her? You give Dillon a blow job? You swallow?

Seriously, Stockton?

“I swallowed?”

The footsteps a few feet in front of him ceased. Dillon Jamison pivoted back toward him.

“What’s that?”

Oh. Shit. He said that out loud? Right. Dillon was here with.

“Nothing, Dill. Just … swallowed, um…. Swallowed a bug.”

Dillon’s nose crinkled.

“Man I hate when that happens!”

Right. Right. So did Charley. He sailed through that one. Bug swallow. Yeah. Bug swallow. Go with that instead of what he really swallowed.

What the fuck?

He had swallowed Dillon’s cum. He had blow jobbed Dillon and swallowed his cum! Holy shit in the picnic basket!

Charley’s cock lurched in his jeans. Yeah. Yeah, he had. That is exactly what he had done. He’d been down on his knees. He’d sucked Dillon’s cock. That massive, unregistered lethal weapon of monster cock had totally owned his mouth, and—his throat. And, yeah—he had swallowed. He had swallowed it all.

What the fuck was with that?

It was like he actually ‘wanted’ it. ‘Wanted’ it and he had ‘enjoyed’ it. A lot. Especially if blowing a load was any indication.

And, while he was questioning his entire universe, here—Dillon said he would make Charley his bitch before sunrise. Seriously? His bitch? Before sunrise? Like he could ever take that monster up his butt….

Another ‘hmph’.

As if.

His cock lurched.

His pucker shuddered.

Why was that? Why did his pucker twitch and suck air at the thought of Dillon taking his ass with that huge cock?

He focused his attention on his friend as he began taking the steps toward the river. Dillon’s hair was matted—humidity and heat combined with sex sweat. Charley’s hair was just the same right now. Dripping.

Dillon’s shoulders glistened. Rivulets of perspiration worked down the ‘V’ of his back to his jeans. Yeah, him, too. He was sweating like a pig.

Dillon stopped suddenly and turned on his heel. So suddenly that Charley nearly walked into him. His eyes went straight down Dillon’s chest to his rippling abs … to that trail—begging him to follow it into the tight hug of denim. To follow it to that monster cock. The monster cock that had just conquered his mouth and his throat.

And Charley did. His eyes followed. Obedient. Hungry. Wanting to see that mouth conquering bone—again.


Why did he want to see it? He saw it regularly at school, in the locker room, in the showers, and other times. But this? This was different. This was … what? This was the full-on boneage view. Or, the desire to see the full-on bone—again. Now. Here. Again. Yeah. Why?



Yeah, totally on that. The what … and … the why.

Fuck if he knew.

And what was that about ‘bitching’ him before the sun came up? Bitch him? Like hell with that one. That cock might have conquered his mouth but it would do more than that to his butt. Hell—it would annihilate it. Yeah. Conquer and annihilate.

Pucker twitch.

Cock throb.


“Is that your phone, dude?”



What phone?


His phone!

Vibrating. Again. He checked the screen. Finally! Somebody other than Chelsea! Ryan McGregor, his best friend. One of two, actually. How righteous was that anyway? To have two best friends at the same time … Ryan and Bennett—Bennett and Ryan.

A text? Wow. Ryan hated texting. He’d always hated it but especially after he lost his sister to a texting driver in an intersection a couple of years ago.

Charley focused on Ryan’s text message so fully that he didn’t realize Dillon had resumed his march down the steps.


Chelsea was so intent on finding him that now she was harassing Ryan and Bennett, too.

Ry: Chels is ballistic and killin me & ‘B’ with the texts, calls, emails

Ry: You good okay fine?

Ry: Need help?

Ry: You know we got your back right?

Ry: You want me to improvise it?

Ry: You want me to lie?

Ry: Repeat 3 above

Ry: Repeat 4 above

Ry: 411 me, dude


Dillon was at the base of the stone steps now … looking back up to where Charley stood.

“Coming, dude.”

Dillon nodded.

Charley swiped to respond and began fingering the keys.

CJStockDawg: Sorry she’s harassing you and ‘B’

CJStockDawg: Please cover me ... you haven’t heard from me since school, last period class

Ry: You got it

CJStockDawg: Thanks! I owe you

Charley was positive Ryan was smirking as he responded.

Ry: No worries. You can pay it up with a blow job for me and ‘B’


Cock throb.

Pucker twitch. Pucker … puckering.

Yeah, right. Me on my knees for Ryan and Bennett.

Cock throb.

Pucker twitch.


CJStockDawg: You wish, dude

Ry: Let me know when. Me and B will save big loads for you, bro


Cock twitch.


CJStockDawg: Dream on

Ry: You’ll suck and swallow for your best friends, right? Knee pads optional. lol

Charley’s face screwed as he tried to figure that one out. Knee pads? They wanted him to blow job them in his football uniform? He slowly shook that vision from his spinning brain. Better not think about that right now.

CJStockDawg: Keep dreamin

Charley made his way to the riverbank and along the gravel and granite to his Camaro and Dillon’s truck. As he made his way between the vehicles, Dillon held out a fresh bottle from the ice chest in the Camaro’s trunk.


Dillon nodded, focusing on the bob of Charley’s throat as he swallowed the icy drink. Charley’s throat. The same throat that had just enveloped Dillon’s throbbing cock. The same throat that had swallowed two thick loads of his cum. His cock felt like it still was rebar reinforced. He noted, too—so was Charley’s. He was rock hard and throbbing.

He struggled to clear his throat. It felt like he had swallowed a sack of Quikrete.

“Everything okay?” He asked with a nod toward Charley’s phone.

Charley swigged at his bottle and then let out a soft snort followed with an eye roll. Another vibration in his hand as his phone lit up. He glowered at it in growing irritation, noting out of the corner of his eye that Dillon was checking his incomings. From the little snort that Dillon let slip, he was obviously getting barraged as well.

Dillon’s eyes rolled. Fuck! He was supposed to meet Ellis … like hours ago! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Ellis was probably pissed as hell at this point. He’d never be able to explain this one. Sorry, ‘E’, I stood you up because I was fucking Charley Stockton’s throat and then I fucked his butthole into the next zip code and back….

He saw the expression on Charley’s face. Either the world had ended and he just got the update, or Chelsea was still on the warpath, or….

Charley caught Dillon’s inquiring gaze.

“My girlfriend is terrorizing the villagers.”

Considering the snort and the look on Charley’s face, Dillon held a rising chuckle in check.

“She’s kinda pissed, huh?”

Kinda? Ya think?

Charley studied the bulge in his friend’s jeans. Still rock hard. Just like his. He rolled his eyes again and shrugged.

“She’s out for my nuts. I may have bought myself a one-way ticket to Castration County.”

Dillon glanced at Charley’s bulging crotch, his face and back down again. Even in the dark of the hour, it was clear that Charley was still throwin’ a bone. Curious. Why? He considered the ‘castration’ reference.

“I’ll brotect your balls, Charley.”

Charley’s head tilted.


Dillon grinned. Yeah. He really did say that.

“Well, avoid her for a few hours and we’ll head to that blacksmith shop over yonder,” he said with a wave of the hand that didn’t really indicate where he meant. But, he knew that Charley knew. “I’ll see about having him pound out a titanium-cupped jock strap for you.”





Charley grinned between swigs from his bottle, shook his head slowly and gazed off beyond Dillon’s shoulder.

With ‘my’ luck right now, I’d be allergic to titanium and my nuts would turn black and fall off….


“Just thinking.”

Dillon was intrigued.






“About what you said earlier,” Charley said. “Up there.”

Dillon followed his friend’s gesture to the bridge, wracking his brain to remember anything significant he might have said. Mostly? He was fairly sure he spewed gibberish while his cock was down Charley’s throat.

Charley could see Dillon was at a loss. He looked like a bewildered puppy trying to figure out where the ice cube had gone that he had carried out to the grass. It was kind of adorable really.

“If you’re, um….” Swig. Swallow. Swig. And, swallow. “If you’re gonna bitch me before sunrise and leave me with a pussy, I guess it won’t matter if she castrates me.” He almost chuckled at the astonished look that swept Dillon’s face. “I mean—if I’m the bitch after that, I won’t need my dick or my nuts.”


Total silence.

To keep from busting their guts then and there, they both burst out laughing. Finally bringing it under control, Dillon stepped forward and slapped Charley’s chest.

“I would prefer the titanium jock strap,” Dillon mused. Although, the idea of Charley’s dick and balls on display in a clear cylinder like happened to that guy in Target Nemesis: The Tentacle Lord’s Revenge, and dangling around his neck was intriguing. “I like your balls right where they are—thank you very much.”

Charley blushed. Somehow? It felt kind of good that Dillon was in ‘brotection’ mode for him. Or, offering to be if it came to an attack on his nuts from Hurricane Chelsea.

“Of course….”

The bottle froze halfway to Charley’s lips. Something told him that he should not ask, but….



Swig, and—swallow.

“Of, um….” Charley stopped. Reconsidered. Pursued, anyway. “Of course…?”


“If you ‘were’ to give it up to me, I’d fuck the hell out of you. I’d blow your mind and your universe to its core.” Swig. “I’d leave your balls right where they are but I’d carve you a manpussy that was so insatiable I’d have to whore you out to keep you well and thoroughly fucked and filled, so you don’t go nuts starving for cock.”



He resisted a laugh at the expression that swept Charley’s face. “Who knows? Maybe Ryan and Bennett, or even Rhett or Cullen Lee would pay top dollar for your mouth and manhole. I bet they’d love to have you whore for them.”

Charley’s mouth opened to respond and then snapped shut.

On his knees? For Ryan and Bennett? Rhett? Cullen Lee? Maybe even Whitney? Talk about revenge factor maximum overdrive … him on his knees blow jobbing Chels’ brother, or—taking Whitney’s dick balls deep. His knees pushed up and pressed to his ears as he gave up his hole for any of them? All of them?

His cock throbbed.

His pucker twitched. It winked and air sucked.

Was Dillon serious about fucking him? Seriously fucking him? For that matter, why was that idea lingering in the back of his mind? Would he go that far just to spite Chels? Yeah, she pissed him off royally, but….

And why the fuck was his pucker ‘puckering’ so much whenever that thought came out into the open between them? Why? He never even so much as thought about sharing junk wads with another guy. Ever. Well. Okay. Maybe once or twice wondered what a blow job from another guy would be like. But, that was different. Yeah. That was way different. It sure as hell wasn’t anything like the direction this conversation had gone.

He opened his mouth again to say … something … anything, really. There had to be som….

And there it was again. That flash of vision. Ryan and Bennett. The other guys. Their cocks. Stuffing him full. Buried deep in his manhole. Flooding his mouth with gallons of their cum.

What … the … fuck!

He shoved the bottle between his lips before ‘anything’ had a chance to come spilling out that would undoubtedly be the ‘wrong’ thing.





A straight guy couldn’t get fucked. Not possible. Was it?

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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