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He’s not in the gray professor outfit. Well, not the sweater at least. He’s still wearing the pants, though, because let’s be honest, his ass filled those out nicely. He’s shirtless and I’m staring at all his smooth, pale skin. In my imagination, he has no ink, no piercings, and no scars, just perfect untouched skin screaming for me to mark it up. He’s standing next to my bed with that awkward smile on his face, as if he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do next.
I slide my briefs down so my semi hard-on pops out. I’m blindly reaching for the lube because I don’t want this image of Lake to leave me. “Take off your pants,” my imagined self tells him. He blushes but pushes his pants down slowly. It’s not meant to be seductive, though. He’s just awkward, and I fucking love it. I want to ruin him, destroy that little bit of innocence that’s in his eyes.
I beckon imaginary Lake onto my bed as I pour some lube onto my hand. I wrap my hand around my cock, imagining it’s Lake’s. “You like that?” I’d ask him as he pumps me.
He’d nod shyly. “I like the piercings,” he’d say. I smile, like he’s really there.
“Yeah, baby? I bet you’d like them even better inside of you. I hear the Jacob’s Ladder feels fucking amazing as my dick fills you up. It’s a totally different sensation.”
I moan and rub my fingers along the piercing like it’s Lake’s hand. Despite all the alcohol, the fantasy, as innocent as it is, is enough for me to pop a boner. I close my eyes, desperate to keep it going for as long as I can. In my fantasy, Lake shudders at the thought and shyly looks away. He’s still in his underwear, but there’s a wet spot on the front, and I can see his cock bulging.
“Are you nice and hard for me, baby?” He’d nod and bite his bottom lip, and I’d see just how shy he is. “Let me see.”
He’d blush but still obey me as he’d push his briefs down and let me see his goods.
I moan and thrust up into my hand. “Can I taste it?” Lake would ask, and I’m obviously not going to turn that down.
I pump myself harder as I imagine Lake’s luscious lips wrapping around my dick. I coat one of my fingers on my other hand with a combination of pre-cum and lube and push up enough so I can get my hand behind me. I wonder idly if Lake tops or bottoms, maybe both. Fuck, I’m not even sure if he likes guys, but in my fantasy, I just can’t imagine him topping me.
As I slide a finger inside my hole, it’s not Lake or even myself that’s fingering me, but Logan. I have no fucking idea how he invaded my fantasy, but it wouldn’t be the first time. I normally try to force him out, but this time, I don’t. It’s Logan’s big, rough finger that’s invading me now. He’s not gentle as he forces his way in, putting a hand around my throat. It’s not strong enough to hurt me, but enough to let me know I’m no longer in charge of my own fantasy.
My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I’m so fucking close. Fuck, what an image. Lake’s sucking me off, tentative at first, but as he becomes more confident, he finds his stride and is doing all the things that get me to the edge. Logan is taking complete control of everything, pegging my prostate with his finger, telling me that soon it’ll be his cock filling me up . . .
I’m almost there, just a few more pumps and then I’ll be orgasming, when my door opens. “Ev, who the fuck you talking—oh, oh, fuck.”
Logan is standing in my doorway looking completely shell-shocked. I know I should move my hands, or gods, at least cover myself the fuck up, but I can’t. I’m too close to the edge to stop myself.
The cum starts shooting out as Logan stands at my doorway, his mouth gaping and his eyes wide. He’s not horrified, though. As my orgasm rips through me, an involuntarily whimper leaves him. His lips part and he palms his own dick through his jeans.
What’s happening here? I finally finish having one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had from masturbating. My head crashes back onto my pillow as I pull my finger out of my hole and release my oversensitive dick. Fuck.
Logan is still just standing there, and I know I should do something, say something. We’d seen each other masturbate before, when we were horny teenagers trying to figure shit out, but never like this. And never when I was just fantasizing about him. The cum is cooling on my belly, and I know it’ll start getting itchy soon.
“If you’re staying, do you mind handing me some tissues? It’s starting to get sticky.”
Logan doesn’t move, and I’m concerned maybe I went too far. Maybe we should just act like it never happened. But eventually, Logan blinks and takes a step into the room. He almost seems like he’s in a trance, but he has the sense to close the door behind him. It’s not that Dad will wake up, but still. No reason to take the chance.
His movements are slow and unsure, but his pupils are blown and his hand is still cupping the obvious bulge in his pants. I watch his movements as he heads toward the bed, but he doesn’t reach for the tissues. Instead, he walks right up to the bed and awkwardly climbs on.
“Logan?” I ask, unsure of what he’s doing.
He kneels in between my spread legs, still not answering me, and stares down at my spent cock and cum pooling on my belly.
“What were you thinking about just now, when you came?” he asks, his voice rough, and fuck, does it turn me on. What is going on? Am I still in my fantasy? I have to be, right? Or dead. There is no fucking way my straight best friend, who I’ve imagined in my bed more times than I can count, is really here right now.
I have a brief worry that he’s still really drunk and has no idea what he’s doing, but no, his voice is steady and his eyes are a lot clearer than I’d expect for how drunk he was earlier. He’s turned on, but he’s clearly in control and coherent. He’s watching me with his intense blue eyes, and I can’t decide if I should stop this and check in. I have no idea what he’s thinking. But I can’t. Even if this is my imagination, or just a one-time thing, I can’t turn this down.
“You,” I finally tell him, my voice quieter than I want it to be.
“Oh, yeah?” he responds. His smile is lopsided and kind of sweet, but there’s a look of possession in his eyes that gives me the chills. Gods, how many times have I pictured Logan possessing me?
I nod, unable to speak at first. I clear my throat as Logan comes even closer. “You and Lake.”
There’s a flash of surprise that runs across his features before he controls it. His smile transforms from sweet to absolutely savage.
“I knew you had a thing for him.” He looks back down at my cum.
“Can I taste it?” he asks, which surprises the fuck out of me.
