My stiff muscles twitch and spasm, letting me know I slept in one spot way too long last night. Which can only mean one thing… Someone broke my rule and slept over.

I close my eyes and say a silent prayer for patience, before rolling over to figure out who the fuck I took to bed last night, and what gave him the dumbass idea he could break my rules and spend the night?

Beside me is a cute little twink I’m sure I had a blast fucking last night. And the taste of garbage tequila in my mouth lets me know why I can’t remember a damn thing.

“Hey,” I rasp, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Um…” Fuck, I don’t have the first clue what his name is. “Dude, get up.”

He grumbles and rubs his face. When his eyes blink open, his expression goes from sleepy and annoyed to sultry. “Good morning, stud. You want another round and then we can talk about breakfast?”

“No, man. You’ve gotta go.”

His eyes harden and his lips pucker into a full-on bitch fit face. “Sorry,” he spits out sarcastically.

I settle back and watch as he gets dressed in a huff and then stomps out of my apartment without a backward glance.

I’m not always so dickish, but there’s an art to severing ties with someone. Not everyone needs to be dumped the same. Some need a gentle hand, others to be tricked into thinking it was their idea, and some people need to be told to fuck right off afterward.

Maybe I know too much about cutting someone out and not enough about getting anyone to stick around.

I sit up and attempt to roll the tension out of my shoulders. When that doesn’t work, I reach for my laptop. While it starts up, I get comfortable beneath the cool sheets. I reach down and give my semi-hard cock a lazy stroke.

My screen comes to life, and I click immediately on my favorite site, saved to the favorites bar. Ballsy Boys, the best damn gay porn site in existence.

A little shiver goes through me as the crystal blue, virtual eyes of Rebel meet mine. I was hooked on Rebel from first sight. His broad shoulders and stubble-covered jaw got my dick hard with nothing more than a glance.

When he fucks, he gets this passionately tortured expression that drives me fucking insane. I could get caught up for hours watching his toned ass flex as he thrusts into a greedy hole. And his moans, oh, his moans are otherworldly.

My stomach jumps with excitement when I spot a newly uploaded video labeled Rebel Tries Fleshjacking.

Be still my beating heart.

I click on it, and Rebel’s shy smile fills the screen. I’ve wondered if this is really the way Rebel is or if this is just a character. And if this is a character, who is he really? I know Rebel isn’t his real name, but what do his friends and real-life lovers call him? Does he fuck the same off-camera as he does on, or is that an act too?

“So, tell me Rebel, have you ever used a Fleshjack before?” an off-screen voice asks as Rebel holds up the box to the camera to show off for the company that paid for the publicity.

“No, I’ve never had trouble finding a willing partner,” Rebel banters.

“Are you excited to see how it feels?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard it feels better than the real thing. If that’s the case, maybe I’ll give up getting out of bed altogether.” He winks at the camera, and my cock thickens under my unhurried playing.

Rebel answers a few more questions, but I tune out the chatter and focus on his full lips, wishing like hell I could feel them wrapped around my cock.

Maybe Ballsy Boys is hiring; that would pay for the rest of my degree. Then I’d get paid and get the chance at fucking or getting fucked by Rebel. Not a bad idea.

It’s a throw-away notion. I can’t see doing porn myself, and who knows how it could affect my future prospects in video game development. In many ways, these days, being a game designer is a public persona, and with all the judgment and political correctness, it’s easier to avoid a misstep as epic as fucking on camera. Personally, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with doing porn, but unfortunately the world doesn’t always see it that way.

Rebel lays back with the Fleshjack in one hand and his hardening cock in the other. I match his strokes, my eyes roaming over his body the same way I wish my tongue could. What I wouldn’t give to taste every inch of his tan flesh or run my fingers through the dusting of hair on his chest and stomach.

He slicks his cock with lube, a sticky sloshing clearly audible. Then the camera pans in for a close up as he attempts to position his tip at the now slippery entrance of the toy.

My ass twitches, imaging Rebel lining up his cock to fuck me. I reach between my legs with my free hand and tease my middle finger around my fluttering hole. On screen, Rebel's broad, purplish head enters the toy with even more obscenely wet slurping sounds.

“Ooooh. Wow.” Rebel gasps, his hand stilling.

The veins on his thick cock throb, and his balls are already pulled tight. My mouth waters imagining the musky taste on my tongue as I’d suck and lick his full, heavy balls.

My own cock aches, a clear sting of pre-cum rolls down along the little V where the head meets my shaft. I gather it with my thumb and rub it around the head, shuddering with restraint. I could come in seconds flat if I just fucked into my fist hard and fast. But I want to draw it out. I want it to build until I’m sure I’ll go insane if I don’t come.

Rebel strokes himself with the Fleshjack in a long, smooth motion. His hips twitch, and his breathing is heavy. He lets out desperate little moans that grab onto my balls and don’t let go. That’s what I fucking love about Rebel. You don’t feel like he’s hamming it up for the camera. It feels like every gasp and moan is just for you.

“Fuck, this is really good. It’s so fucking tight. Holy fuck.”

I can see the tremble in Rebel’s muscles that lets me know he’s close, so I speed up my own tugs, adding a little twist at the head.

“Oh fuck, fuck. I want to come so bad.”

“Yeah, come,” I encourage through the screen.

Rebel lets out a long, low moan, whips the toy off, and grips himself with his other hand. I gasp out my own impending pleasure as I put my feet flat on my bed and thrust into the tunnel of my fist.

I close my eyes and just listen to every strangled groan as Rebel is wracked by his orgasm. I imagine him kneeling over me, thick ropes of cum spurting from his cock onto my stomach, his head thrown back and his muscles taut.

The tight ring of my ass clamps down around my finger shoved inside, and heat rushes from my center and out through my cock. Every hot spurt drains the tension I’d been feeling when I woke up.

I open my eyes just a slit as aftershocks ripple through me. Rebel’s expression isn’t far off mine as he plays with the cooling cum on his skin and uses his eyes to flirt with the camera just a few seconds longer.

“Thanks for cumming,” he says and then winks again before the screen goes blank.

Fuckin A’, I love my Ballsy Boys.

I let out a long breath and close my laptop. Then I reach for a crumpled shirt beside the bed and use it to mop up my release. I chuck the soiled shirt in the direction of my hamper and grab a joint out of the little box beside my bed. I light it and inhale the acrid smoke into my lungs, holding it until my head starts to swim a little and my lungs and throat burn.

Somewhere in my apartment, I can hear the alarm notification on my phone chiming.

“Oh, fuck.”

I’m going to be late to my morning class if I don’t get my ass out the door. I take a few more hits before stubbing out my joint and placing it back in my stash box. Then I roll out of bed and throw on a pair of worn in jeans and a red henley. I run my fingers through my hair, likely making a worse mess of it, but fuck it.

I find my phone under my couch, and then I’m out the door, only a few minutes late. So basically, I’m crushing it this morning.