Gaming

This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

It was a Thursday morning, around 10 am and since neither of them had classes, Eric and Sam were playing retro arcade games on an emulator together. Sam loved old arcade games and had picked up the emulator on eBay for a bargain. When Eric stayed over, usually after a big night out, they'd play through their hangovers with a few rounds of some classics. Last night was a little different, Eric's flatmate, Tim, had an assignment due and would need as few distractions as possible. As much as Eric enjoyed teasing Tim with slow towelling off after a shower, strolling about in his undies, and generally being ambiguously flirty, he knew that Tim needed the space and respected that. So he'd crashed with Sam, the two young men sharing Sam's large bed as they had done many times before. They'd crawled out of bed barely half an hour ago, and just finished showering and dressing, so ofc few quick games were next on the schedule.

Eric was sprawling on the floor in his tight jeans, tighter t-shirt, and plaid shirt. The latter had ridden up enough that Sam had a clear view of Eric's ample ass, a sight the secretly bi Sam was more than happy with. Sam was dressed in his grey joggers and hoodie from the uni swim team, with a plain white vest underneath. He had no plans until much later so these would be fine for now, an old beanie standing in for brushing his hair. Eric had just beaten Sam's score at Space Invaders, again, and was teasing him about it.

“Well if it's too easy let's make it interesting,” Sam said, an idea taking form in his mind.

“Yeah? How? Blindfold me?” Eric retorted and rolled over onto his back, exposing a tempting sliver of his tight stomach in the process. That sealed it for Sam.

“Strip Space Invaders,” he said, “we trade off each round and the lowest score every two rounds loses an item of clothing.” He hoped that this didn't sound too rehearsed, it was a fantasy he'd had for some time.

“Like that's a challenge for me,” Eric boasted, “and besides we see each other naked all the time. We could make it harder.” He wiggled his eyebrows on that last word and made a jacking off  gesture with his hand. Sam's eyes widened.

“Hmm, I don't know,” he toyed with Eric, “I've seen you jacking off, remember the other week in that alley with Tim?” Sam tried to appear bored but in his mind he was replaying the sight of his friend naked and spraying his load in public. “Tell you what, let's play until someone's naked and then go from there,” Sam arched an eyebrow and added, “I might have a way to make it more interesting.”

It was on. Eric grabbed the controller and cleared the first level in good time, tossing Sam the pad with a smug look on his face.

“I think I'll have you out of that hoodie first,” he gloated.

“Hold on, let's see my score first,” Sam replied, “and don't get too comfortable in those jeans.” He began to play level two, making good progress.

“These old things?” Eric pushed up onto his knees and wiggled his ass suggestively at Sam. Despite the distraction, Sam cleared the level and the scores were compared.

“Hoodie. Off. Now.” Eric punctuated his words with snaps of his fingers. Sam slowly unzipped his team hoodie, partly to tease Eric and partly to hide the tremble of excitement in his hands at being spoken to like this. Once it was off, he flexed his broad shoulders and nicely toned biceps, giving Eric a peak at the mossy blond caverns of his armpits. Eric grinned and took the hoodie and controller. Two rounds later his smugness was deflated.

“Oh come on! One point less?” He pouted as he sat upright and looked at Sam in exasperation. Sam calmly pointed at Eric's jeans and snapped his fingers, a wicked grin on his face.

To his credit, Eric was an entertaining loser if not a gracious one. He stood up and walked directly in front of where Sam sat on a dining chair, then he slowly popped each button of his button fly one by one. Throughout out his eyes were locked on Sam's as if daring his best friend to look down. When Sam resisted, Eric took his hands and used them to help work the tight denim down his meaty thighs. Halfway down he turned and bent forward, his jockey shorts stretching to contain the twin spheres of his ass. Sam even suspected that the slight slip of waistband, the tantalising threat of exposing his cheeks, was part of the routine but noted that when Eric went back to sit down, he held his jeans in front of his crotch.

“Over to one side, with my hoodie, please,” Sam chided and Eric begrudgingly complied, revealing a significant chub in the front of his shorts. Sam had contemplated turning the heating up to incentivise the game but found he was already flushed. He cleared his throat.

“Game on” he said in as level a voice as he could manage.

Several rounds later and Sam had added his beanie to the pile, his long blond hair tumbling messily to his shoulders. Eric had lost his shirt, shrugged off his shoulders while looking back over them at Sam, and was now peeling last night's t-shirt off his muscular frame. He'd tried to do it in one fluid overhead motion, but was now stuck and needed Sam to help untangle him. Sam sighed at his hot but dorky best friend, and gently pried him out, taking time to admire his physique up close.

“Right,” Eric spluttered as he tried to regain his composure, “next round is all in!” Sam raised an eyebrow in question.

“If I lose, I strip and do whatever your suggestion is for making it more interesting,” Eric continued, “but if I win, you strip stark naked and show me your idea in action. Deal?”

“I feel it's only fair to show you what I have in mind first,” Sam's wicked grin was back and for the first time Eric looked a little unsure of himself.

Sam left the room and Eric heard the sound of boxes being pulled out from under Sam's bed. When he returned it was with two large,nondescript, black cases; on solid and the other fabric. Eric shifted a little closer, unconsciously bringing his hands to cover his crotch. Sam noticed this and popped open the clasps on the solid case first. From inside he removed a length of rubber tubing which he connected to a previously unnoticed socket on the side of the case. Then he took out a black cylinder and connected the other end of the tubing to a valve on its side. This complete, he looked up at Eric.

“Whoever loses the next round gets naked and uses this for the rest of the game.” He wagged the cylinder at Eric's crotch.

“Wh- what is it?” Eric asked, his voice now a hushed whisper.

“It's a blowjob machine” Sam stated evenly, “state of the art, I bought it with the cash I made bartending last summer.” Eric was fascinated and leaned forward to poke a finger into the cylinder, it had a thick rubber lining.

“...and it feels good?” His voice trembled as he withdrew his hand.

“Mate, it feels amazing. Like getting sucked off by an expert.”

The air in the room was now charged, Eric's shorts were tenting and Sam was thankful he'd worn a jockstrap under his joggers - the fabric was just about holding his wood in check.

“And the other one?” Eric's voice was almost imperceptible. A sly grin crossed Sam's face.

“Oh that old thing,” he winked, “that's the ass-fucking machine.” While Eric looked on in stunned silence, Sam unpacked and set up the second device. It was an upright, thick piston with a sturdy base and a strange connector on the end of the arm. Sam rummaged in the bag and pulled out a modestly sized dildo which clicked into place on the end of the arm. Eric's face was pale.

“So, you… you…” he struggled to articulate himself so Sam completed it for him.

“I stand up and let this thing ream me from underneath. Sometimes while getting sucked off, sometimes not.”

Eric continued to be gobsmacked so Sam patiently explained that he wasn't all that into sex with other people, but still had a very strong sex drive. Rather than have it straining with no direction, he used masturbation and toys as an outlet.

“...and over time I found I really enjoyed the build up of tension, followed of course by a full-on cock and prostate milking session until my balls are drained.” Sam's voice, excited at first, trailed off at the end. This was the first time he'd told anyone about this, least of all his best buddy. He looked at his feet, nervously waiting for Eric's response.

After a long moment of silence, Eric spoke.

“So it’ll suck me so good it'll literally drain my balls?” he blurted. “I mean assuming I lost, which I won't of course.”

Sam couldn't help but chuckle, Eric could always be relied on to focus on his cock.

“Well, we'll have to play a game and find out, I guess,” Sam suggested.

“How would it work? The two machines I mean,” Eric could now barely contain the anticipation, or his cock which was now fully erect and pushing the waistband of his shorts out.

“Well,” Sam tentatively went on, “like I said, the next loser gets naked and has the stroker on for the rest of the game-”

“Stroker” Eric echoed, a shiver running up his spine and his nipples rigid.

“Yes, the stroker,” Sam repeated, “and then the next loser gets the prostate pounder.” He slapped the side of the piston proudly. When he glanced up at Eric the first thing he saw was the damp spot on his shorts where the precum was now seeping through. He pretended not to notice, instead drawing attention back to the arcade games.

Eric played in silence, his face a mask of concentration. He played a convincingly good game, but Sam knew his friend was holding back. When it was Sam's turn he pulled out all the stops. He'd either win and get to see his buddy on display, or lose and at least losing would be enjoyable. It had been over a week since his last milking and his balls were aching for release. Eventually the round was over and the scores were clear, it was a narrow margin of victory, but Sam had won. Eric made a show of being devastated, just long enough for Sam to bring the vacuum stroker over, apply some lube, and then start it up. The greedy, gulping sound it made immediately drew Eric's attention. He was on his feet and sliding his shorts down slowly to tease Sam, but on hearing the eager sound of the milker and seeing the rubber lining expand and contract quickly got naked. He stood legs akimbo and hands on hips, his cock twitching and bouncing so much that a line of precum was now dangling off the tip. Sam took a moment to savour both sight and what was about to happen, and then brought the cylinder of the milker to Eric's bellend.

What felt like a momentary tickle as the machine ‘exhaled’ was replaced by a strong suction and tight grip as it drew the full length of Eric's shaft inside itself. His knees buckled and he grunted like an animal.

“It's okay, buddy,” Sam placed a reassuring hand on Eric's trembling hip, “it's okay. The first time is a lot but you get used to it.”

Eric looked down at Sam, kneeling in front of him, and tried to smile through the whimpers.

“Well,” Sam reflected, “you'll get used to it up until it milks the first load of you.” Eric blushed furiously and tried to focus on anything except the overwhelming sensation of being balls deep inside the slick vacuum of the device.

“We… need…” he fought out the words between gasps, “to play on.” Sam grinned, inwardly he was impressed with Eric's composure though time would tell how he'd hold up. The milker was relentless after all. He passed Eric the controller and had to practically press it into his hands. He started the next level and immediately knew the mistake he'd made, they were playing levels sequentially so the difficulty was increasing. He did his best, pausing the game briefly and insisting on a breather.

“Only from the game, not the machine,” Sam had insisted. 

Eventually, however, Eric's ability to focus on the game crumbled. He dropped the controller as his knees bent and his rock hard abs clenched even tighter. He was sweating and panting and Sam saw that his balls were tight. Almost immediately afterwards the telltale throb of his shaft and the bobbing up and down of the cylinder let Sam know Eric had shot his load. His glassy eyes looked straight ahead as he gasped, then they focused on the stroker which was still riding back and forth on his cock.

“Ah, Sam… some help?” He looked pleadingly at his friend, who was sliding the piston into position under him and applying a liberal quantity of lube to the dildo.

“Hmm?” Sam looked up and feigned innocence, “don't forget, it stays on for the duration.” Eric moaned in pleasure and exasperation.

“Mate, please… it's still so… so good” Eric whimpered and shook.

“So you agree? It stays in place.” Sam stood up and put his hands on Eric's shoulders. His friend didn't even try to struggle, the suction of the first machine had rendered him helpless.

With Eric lined up properly, Sam quickly squirted lube on his fingertips and swiped them between Eric's thick cheeks, making sure to brush against his hole. Eric moaned on contact and sank back into Sam's arms, almost toppling the pair. Propping the beefy lad upright against him, Sam started the fucking machine on the lowest speed and shortest thrust. Eric moaned again as the tip of the greasy dildo pushed firmly against his sphincter, he sagged back against Sam again, and Sam put an arm around his chest to secure him.

“It's okay, buddy,” he whispered in Eric's ear, “I've got you. Just relax and enjoy it, there's a good lad.” Eric felt his cock being expertly tugged and sucked on, felt his ass being relentlessly probed increasingly deeply, and then felt his best friend's breath on his neck and hand on his pec. Eric melted. His hips dropped enough that the dildo went in to the hilt, his jaw dropped in a silent gasp, and then the milker was mercilessly wrenching another load from his already tight balls. He mouthed exclamations of pleasure and felt his entire body rigid with it.

Sam kicked the base of the piston to release the pivot, and then ever so gently laid Eric down on the floor. He was careful not to dislodge either of the devices as he set his slab of a friend down. He took a moment to watch him twitch and murmur incoherently, knowing all to well what that felt like. Then he felt a vibration in his pocket. Unbeknownst to the pair, Tim had finished his assignment and had been calling Eric all morning - but Eric's phone was in his hastily discarded jeans. Sam glanced at the screen of his own phone and saw an incoming call from Tim.

“Hey, Eric, it's Tim,” he said to the barely awake, pleasure-wracked stud on his floor.

“Do you want to say hi?” In response Eric grunted. Sam suspected from the quivering thighs and flushed expression, that the grunt was another orgasm washing over him, blasting away a little bit more of his consciousness. However, he was feeling mischievous and decided to interpret it as a ‘yes’ so he answered the video call.

Tim was sitting at his desk in his room, his eyes red from lack of sleep, textbooks piled around him.

“Hey Sam,” he started, then noticed Sam was in his tight white vest and immediately gulped.

“Hey Tim,” Sam made an exaggerated stretch to show off his bicep and pretended not to notice his broad, dark nipple peeking out from his vest. “How's the assignment going?”

“All done,” Tim did a little victory jig in his chair, “I was wondering if Eric was still with you. I thought he might want to hang out?” He bit his lip slightly.

“Ah mate, we had a night last night, and to be honest it carried on this morning,” Sam glanced down at Eric who was now limp except for his twitching cock. “I think Eric will be sleeping it off for a while.”

“Okay, thanks anyway,” Tim tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“Hang on,” Sam said, “why don't you come over. You can see him when he wakes up. I'm sure we'll be able to keep ourselves occupied in the meantime.”

“Really?” The way Tim's face lit up was frankly adorable.

“Sure, we can play video games. I know a new one you'll love.”

Avengers

This post is published under the CC-BY-SA-4.0 licence.

When Tim saw what time it was he knew that he had to hurry up. He'd just gotten out of the shower and the air was steamy enough that he'd had to wipe the screen of his phone in order to see the time. He had half an hour before the train into town, so knew he'd be cutting it close. He looked across his room to the costume hanging on the back of the door and he grinned. He and his friends were coordinating their costumes so they could all go together as the Avengers. Tim, with his slender frame and short brown hair, had been an obvious choice for Spiderman so he'd bought a lycra all-in-one costume online.

He'd already tried it on to make sure it was a good fit, as a matter of fact it was an incredibly close fit. When he first slipped it on, the fabric had clung so close to his body that the line of his underwear had stood out for all to see. With that in mind, he'd decided to go commando tonight rather than spoiling the effect of the costume. Once he was dry, he flung his towel back through the doorway into the ensuite bathroom he shared with his flatmate, Eric, and grabbed the Spiderman costume. The sensation of the lycra gliding over his skin felt just as nice as the first time, but now without his underwear it tugged his cock up to lay flat against his tummy. Once the suit was at waist height he quickly adjusted his package, checking in the mirror to find a position that wasn't too obvious while also didn't make him look like a Ken doll. Once he was satisfied, he pulled the costume up to his neck, the zipper ran from the lower back all the way up to the back of the hood. He frowned, he'd not done it all the way up last time.

He walked back through the bathroom, knocked on the connecting door to Eric's room, and then immediately opened it. Eric was already in full costume and was sitting on his bed browsing on his phone. The sight of the six feet tall, gym rat dressed in ripped shorts and copious amounts of green body paint made Tim chuckle. "Hey, mate," he called as he turned to present his back"can you do me up?" Eric put his phone in his pocket and stretched languorously as he stood up. "Sure thing bud" he drawled and crossed the room to where Tim stood. His large fingers fumbled the zipper At first, but then Tim felt a tug at the base of his back as the suit contracted. Soon he was completely engulfed in the lycra suit, Eric being surprisingly gentle with Tim's hair in the final stage.

Tim felt a goodhearted slap on his butt and heard Eric's deep laugh. "Ready to go, web-head? If we're late you'll make me angry..." Tim finished the line "...and I won't like you when you're angry, I know, I know. I just need to grab my cards and we're good to go." The downside of the suit was a lack of pockets, his first thought had been to tuck his cards into his sneaker, but as Eric had pointed out Spiderman doesn't wear sneakers. So instead Tim was wearing just the lycra outfit, relying on the slightly padded soles of the feet to be sufficient for one evening. Once he had his wallet he tossed it to Eric, who made sure it was securely away in his shorts. Without further ado, they set out and twenty minutes later were standing on the subway platform waiting for their train.

It was busier than they'd expected, there were at least thirty people spread along the short platform. Most of them were clearly accustomed to students from the local university and weren't fazed by the sight of Eric and Tim. But they nonetheless felt a few sets of eyes on them, the ones that lingered were mostly on Eric which was perfectly fine with Tim. Now that they were out in public Tim was realising just how skintight his outfit was, and he was glad to have someone nearby to draw the attention off him. He'd even cast a few glances in his friend's direction himself, particularly on the stairs when he realised just how good a fit Eric's shorts were. They gripped his sculpted ass and really showed off his tight thighs and calves.

Tim's reverie was interrupted by the sound of the train pulling into the platform, and then the collective groan as everyone saw how crowded it was inside. Eric shot Tim a glance and a shrug, and then joined the crowd in pushing into the nearest carriage. Tim had no choice but to follow and soon found himself wedged between Eric and some random guy. From the looks of it the rando was a townie, probably working in construction by the looks of the high-vis vest slung over his dirty grey hoodie. They were face to face and through the tinted lenses of his costume Tim could see a close up of the guy's scrappy pencil mustache and five o'clock shadow. As the train pulled out of the station it lurched, sending Tim into the guy's chest, to which he tutted and firmly moved Tim away. A sudden hand on his hip startled him, but then Tim heard Eric's voice reassure him "don't worry, buddy. I've got a hold of you." At which point the hand on Tim's hip slid round the press on his stomach, holding him firmly in place against Eric's muscular torso.

A few stops later and the carriage emptied almost completely. There was enough room that Eric released Tim and pointed to the nearest two seats. Tim was relieved to be out of the crush, but a shadow of disappointment lingered as his buddy's arm was no longer holding him. As they were taking their seats, the construction guy, the only other person in the carriage, barged past and nearly knocked Tim over. The tradie muttered something under his breath as he passed, something Tim didn't catch but was sure from the tone wasn't anything complimentary. Eric had his phone out again and was scrolling through photos girls had sent him. The guy was an absolute magnet for attention when it came to the ladies, and from Tim had seen Eric didn't mind guys looking either. Knowing Eric would be occupied for the duration of the journey, Tim scanned about for a newspaper to read, eventually spotting a discarded copy of a free sheet at the other end of the carriage. He hopped up and made his way along the carriage, feeling a bit more relaxed now, and turned sideways to pass the tradie who was sat midway along the carriage. As soon as he was in front of the guy, Tim saw a leg go out across the aisle to block his path.

"That's some outfit you've got on there. You two on a boy's night out?" His voice was dry and gravelly, like he smoked a lot, and he made a slow gesture of looking Tim up and down from head to toe. Despite being literally sealed into a lycra suit, Tim felt very exposed and instinctively shielded his crotch with his hands. The tradie picked up on this immediately and laughed "something you're trying to hide?" Tim decided that the newspaper wasn't worth it and turned to rejoin Eric, who was still engrossed in his phone. A second leg shot out to block Tim's path and he was now trapped between the man's open legs. Two barriers in cargo trousers and ending in scuffed work boots. The man was leaning back in his seat, clearly very comfortable and enjoying the view.

"Come to think of it" he made a show of patting the pockets of his trousers "I can't find my wallet. Any chance you've seen it?" The man's eyes were now locked onto Tim's crotch and the pair of hands trying desperately to shield it. "no-sorry" Tim rushed out in a whisper, casting a frantic look back up the carriage to Eric. Eric was reclining across two seats, one hand holding his phone in front of his face, the other sliding fingertips under the waistband of his shorts. He was onto the nudes, the dawning conclusion making Tim's heart sink, Eric was engrossed and wouldn't be aware of what was going on. "He's not got it," the tradie chided, drawing Tim's attention back to him "he wasn't the one practically mounting me earlier." A sadistic grin crossed the man's face. "So, being a gentleman, you won't mind showing me what you've got there, will you?" A dirty finger tapped slowly against Tim's clasped hands, coming to rest against them.

Tim was about to call out to Eric, and perhaps the man saw the suit shift with the intake of breath, because he was suddenly on his feet and once again they were pressed face to face. This time, however, it was the man holding Tim's arms just above the elbows and slowly but firmly lifting them. The guy was strong, too strong for Tim to resist, and soon his hands were pulled apart, lifted above his head, and then one of the man's hands was holding both of Tim's wrists above his head. The other hand pawed at his crotch as Tim squirmed, unable to get free, blushing beneath the mask as he felt his cock respond to the firm grip. “Well, there's certainly something you've got down there” the tradie chuckled as he leaned into Tim's ear. “I think this deserves a closer inspection, so if you don't open up I guess I'll have to find a way to help you out.” With barely a pause for Tim to answer, the hand that had been groping him now seized the lycra at the front of the suit, just beneath the chest, and began wrenching at it.

Tim finally found his voice and yelled as loud as he could. Eric leaped from his seat and was thundering down the carriage almost immediately. He barrelled into the pair of them, trying to simultaneously shove the guy and pull Tim towards him. The tradie let go of Tim's wrists but still had a bunch of lycra in his grip, pulling the fabric even tighter across Tim's body. It soon became apparent that Eric wasn't so much pulling on Tim as he was on the other side of the suit, he was tugging the zipper along the seam with one hand and slapping at the tradie’s hand with the other. Tim was being yanked to and fro between the pair of larger guys as they jostled each other. With his now free hands all he could do was return to shielding his crotch, although this time to prevent any stray blows from hitting him there.

In the clash of the two men it was ultimately the lycra suit that became the first casualty. Tim heard an awful ripping sound as the seams around the zipper finally gave way. He felt the air on his back far earlier than he'd been hoping when he'd first put on the suit and began to frantically struggle against both men now. With a sinking feeling he realised that the more he twisted to get free, the worse he was tearing his costume open. The hood seemed pointless now, barely hanging on to the body of the costume, so he pulled it off - in a way it was a relief, his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. Now that his vision was clear he could see the full extent of the damage, the suit was wide open at the back and the bottom of the zipper was now tearing further down. The guy was pulling it from the front and now that Eric was getting Tim clear he was accidentally pulling the back with him. Tim watched in horror as his bare arms came into view, the front of the suit now exposing his chest while his back and shoulders were totally bare.

In a panic now, Tim scrambled to get clear of the brawl, hoping to salvage the suit as best he could once he was away. His hopes were dashed when a leg, he had no idea who's, swept him clean off his feet and he tumbled head over heels onto the carriage floor. A pulling and release of his feet confirmed his worst nightmare, he was naked on the floor of the train carriage, the torn remains of his suit flung aside by the two men as Eric used his size to force the man against the train doors. Moments later the train screeched to a halt and the doors opened, a blast of cold air filling the carriage. Eric bodily threw the man out, shouting expletives as he did so. As the doors shut, he turned and saw the sight of Tim, naked as a jaybird, in a heap on the floor, trying to conceal his nakedness to no avail. “Aw man, your costume” he looked guiltily at the shredded lycra scap that Tim was clutching to his crotch in a futile attempt at preserving his modesty. The fabric barely covered anything, Tim struggling to keep more than one ball or his shaft covered at a time. It was plain for all to see that Tim was at half mast, his cock stirring at the thought of being so exposed, causing him to blush all the more deeply.

Eric leaned down and lifted Tim up one handed, “Nothing else hurt though?” His voice filled with heartfelt concern. “I'm okay” Tim muttered, “just my pride I guess.” Standing, the attempt to cover himself was even less effective but he was determined to maintain the effort. “Buddy, we'll get off at the next stop and head home asap. Forget the party, I'll text the guy's and let them know.” Tim blushed and immediately froze. “You can't tell them!” Eric placed his hands on Tim's shoulders, “I'll tell them as much or as little as you want. For now I'll just say we can't make it. Getting you home safely is the main thing.” Tim smiled weakly and blinked back the tears he knew were close. “Let's just hope the next train is quieter” he said softly, attempting a grin. Eric pulled him in for a bear hug and ruffled his hair, “that's the spirit. I'd lend you my costume but we're both going commando tonight.” For effect he leaned back and pulled the waistband of his shorts enough to show the line where the green body paint ended and his natural skin tone began.

The train began to slow as it approached the next station and Tim's heart sank as he saw how many people were on the platform. Eric saw to “well, the Avengers stick together” he said as he stood up. Tim looked puzzled until he saw what Eric was planning. When the train doors opened and the crowd of weary commuters prepared to board the train they were met by a very unusual sight. Two naked young men, one lean and cupping himself with his hands as he blushed uncontrollably, the other mostly green except for his crotch and ass standing proudly with his hands on his hips. “Avengers, assemble!” the stocky green one yelled as he seized his embarrassed companion by the wrist and strode out onto the platform. As the platform cleared, the two young men were left together, Tim now beaming from ear to ear despite himself. Eric's confidence with his nudity was contagious and Tim was soon striking superhero poses with his buddy as they waited for the train. After a few joint poses, particularly the one where Tim was carried under Eric’s arm, he was sporting almost a full erection, and while they were both aware of it neither drew attention to it. Tim even noticed Eric was starting to chub up, his shaft lazily bobbing as he dropped into a squat and flexed his biceps. The pair were chuckling over Tim’s last pose, one leg up on a nearby bench, his crotch on full display as he raised his arms above his head in triumph, his cock pointing the way forward. Eric, idly pulling on his own shaft, reached over and flicked the tip of Tim’s cock. Tim doubled over and swatted ineffectively at Eric. “Hey, that’s not cool,” he laughed “for that you can at least lend me your shorts for the ride home.”

“Oh shit!” Eric’s face would have looked pale were it not for the green paint, but his expression said it all. “I left my shorts on the other train” he slapped his palm against his forehead. “Even if they let us out at the station, my keys were in my pocket too.” Tim laughed nervously, showing off with a friend on an otherwise deserted platform was one thing, but this was something else altogether. “What are we going to do?” he started pacing up and down the platform, his mind racing. Eric sat on the bench and tugged on one of his balls as he thought about it, eventually having to face up to the best possible answer. “If we can get out of the station here” he began slowly, “we could probably get to Sam’s. He’s always late so if we’re lucky he might still be home.” Sam was the group’s intended Thor for the evening and had a reputation for arriving at least an hour later than planned so perhaps this could work. Tim glanced along the platform to the stairs leading up to the ticket office. This late in the evening it was possible that the guards would have gone, so they could jump the barriers and be out without further exposure. He nodded in agreement with Eric’s assessment and together they raced along the platform, up the stairs, and straight into the path of the station guard as he was about to leave for the night.

Charles had seen a lot in his thirty five years on the job, but this was the first time that two naked men, each clearly in state of some arousal, had collided with him. He took a moment to take in the sight and suppressed a smile at what he saw. He’d had his share of hook-ups with guys in his time though in those days discretion had always been paramount, the idea of two young lovers getting frisky - and naked - in public was clearly a sign of changing times. Remembering he was at work, he cleared his throat and asked what was going on. The two men looked sheepishly at each other, their hands clearing wanting to cover themselves but hesitating as that would confirm to them how erect they were. The taller, broader of the two settled from folding his arms across his nicely developed chest. The lean one, who reminded Charles of himself at that age, eventually gave in and used one hand to cup his balls while the other pressed his still rather stiff cock against his stomach. “I’m not going to ask questions,” Charles began “I was young too once, believe it or not. I’ll let you out the side gate.” He made a show of searching his pockets for his keys, then examining them to find the right one, and finally lifting the correct key into the air. Throughout he’d been shooting ravishing glances at the pair, causing them both to squirm with embarrassment, though he was sure the lean one’s cock had twitched more than once. The second time Charles had made eye contact with the lad, who had somehow turned an even deeper shade of red, and Charles pretended not to notice the bead of precum that had oozed its way out in response to the scrutiny.

He was just turning to open the gate when the second surprise of the evening walked in. Another young man, sporting a swimmer’s build, a sleeveless vest, leather trousers, and a long cape. In one hand he held an inflatable hammer and in the other his smartphone. He glanced up casually, then back to his phone, before noticing the sight before him. “Eric? Tim? What's going on?” the newcomer ventured cautiously. Charles was grinning from ear to ear by this point, and stepped aside to allow the new man a full view of his naked friends. “I'm not asking any questions,” he reasserted “but if you can spare these lads any clothes I'm sure they'll be appreciative.” Eric was still standing with arms folded and legs akimbo, his cock and balls hanging in the open for all to see. He cheered “Sam! You're a legend! Always late, but an absolute legend.”

Sam struck a pose of his own, cape thrown back, arms and hammer raised, biceps flexing. “I am no legend, green mortal. I am Thor!” Eric bounded through the now open gate and hugged Sam tightly, lifting him off the ground for a moment. “Well, Thor, could you lend us your cape? We had a wardrobe malfunction on the train.” Sam jovially pushed Eric back and looked him up and down, “so does that get bigger when it turns green or is that as good as it gets?” He bopped the end of his hammer on Eric's cock, which was still standing at half mast. Eric grabbed it and swung it back at the hammer, the pair briefly duelling before realising where they were and composing themselves. Tim shuffled past Charles to pass through the gate, and Charles placed a hand on the small of his back to guide him. Or at least that's what Charles told himself, the fact that he brushed the young man's pert buttocks was purely accidental, he assured himself.

Once the three young men were outside the barriers, Charles locked the gate and excused himself. Tim watched him leave, aware of the older man's eyes roving all over him one last time as if to commit as much to memory as possible. The thought filled him with a strange sensation of humiliation and yet also excitement. He was painfully aware of his heightened arousal and wasn't sure how much longer he could hide it. His thoughts were interrupted by Eric, who had taken Sam's cape and turned it sideways to wrap around himself. He'd positioned it just below his nipples and there was just enough drop to cover to his mid-thigh. “Tim, there's probably room for one more if we squeeze,” Eric opened the front of the cape and gestured for Tim to step closer. Tim did so slowly, trying not to draw attention to his erection, if Eric and Sam noticed - how could they not, Tim thought - they weren't commenting. When he was within arms reach, Eric pulled him close and turned him around so they were both facing forward. “Might be easier to walk this way,” he said as he wrapped the cape, and his thick arms, around Tim's shoulders.

Together the three young men made the ten minute walk to Sam's flat, Sam taking point while Eric and Tim shuffled along behind. As they walked, Tim was painfully aware of two things. First, the rough fabric of the cloak was rubbing against the underside of his cock in a way that was frustratingly pleasurable. He was quiet on the walk partly from shame and partly because he couldn't trust his breathing not to betray him. Second, he was feeling an increasingly firm bulge pressing against his butt cheeks. Neither of them mentioned it, but apparently the closer contact and rhythmic motion of their shuffling was having a similar effect on Eric. When they paused to cross a road, Tim was certain he felt a subtle shifting in Eric's stance, as if he was unconsciously trying to slowly grind against his smaller buddy's ass. Tim's mind was racing, this has been an incredible evening in so many ways and he was barely processing what was happening, just letting the events happen.

In hindsight, Tim would wonder if this was why what happened next unfolded as it did. The lights changed to signal then to cross and Eric, guiding from behind, pushed them both forwards into a jog to the other side. At one point Eric's now quite rigid cock slipped between Tim's cheeks, spreading them like a vertical pole. At the moment, Eric, presumably reacting to this, pulled sharply on the cape which dragged across Tim's frenulum in a fast-moving but continuous motion. Tim staggered, letting out something between a gasp and a grunt as his knees buckled momentarily. Eric, barely broke his stride, his arms tightening around Tim and half carrying him the rest of the way across the road. Together they paused for a moment, to catch their breath, Sam was a few metres ahead and hadn't yet noticed. “You okay buddy?” Eric whispered, his breath hot against Tim's ear. Tim was once again silent and blushing, as he felt one of Eric's hands tentatively reach down - it stopped as soon as it met Tim's now very sticky and wet hand.

“...ah, okay” Eric sounded less confident than before but was still taking the lead. He called ahead to Sam, “hold up mate, we need a piss break.” Sam skidded to a halt, turned laughing, and pointed to a small alleyway between two shop fronts. “Down there, it's discreet and has saved my life more than once,” he chucked. The pair shuffled down the alley until they were confident that Sam was too far to see what happened next. Eric stripped the cape off the pair of them and stood surveying the scene under the light of someone's upstairs window. Tim's cock was still surprisingly upright even though his creamy white load was smeared all over the head, shaft, and now both of their hands. Tim looked mortified and wasn't even looking at Eric. “It's okay, these things happen,” Eric said softly. “Look,” he gestured at his own stiff cock, “I could probably go right now to be honest.” Tim glanced at Eric's crotch as barely a second later Eric's hand was on his cock and rapidly pumping it. Tim watched in silent awe as Eric's face flushed, his breathing got shallower, and he started to bob on his trembling knees. All too quickly he was grunting and shaking as a succession of thick ropes shit from his cock and splashed on the floor of the alley.

“Ah, so it's that kind of piss break,” Sam's voice echoed down the alley as he approached, he'd heard Eric's vocals and had come to investigate. Tim froze, but Eric turned to let the last jet fly in roughly the direction of the approaching young man. “Hey,” Sam laughed, “I thought it was Tim who'd be shooting the white sticky stuff tonight.” Eric beamed, proud of his achievement and then pulled Tim close to his side to share in the glory. “Nah man, Tim already shot his load, though your cape took the brunt of it.” Eric began using the cape to mop up the now cooling semen from Tim's body, Tim shuddering as Eric took extra care to clean his cock and balls. Once he was done, he wiped his own cock on the cape and tossed it back to Sam, who was standing transfixed with wonder as he watched. Tim made eye contact with Sam, the two men shared an awkward smile, and then Tim felt his cock shudder and a thin squirt ran down the length of his shaft. “Woah,” Eric clapped him on the shoulder, “going again so quickly, what a stud.”

The three men stood in a charged silence, two naked and still erect despite having just ejaculated three times between them, and the third fully dressed and looking on in awe. Tim broke the silence, “maybe we should get going? Unless Sam wants to join in?” He blushed furiously at his own lewd comment and both Eric and Sam laughed raucously. “It's okay buddy,” Sam was trying to fold the cape to keep the sticky side on the inside, to no avail. “I'm more than happy to watch, but perhaps we should make a move. We can't have you two catching a cold.” He turned and led the way once more as Eric and Tim followed behind. Eric was strutting, still flush with the post-orgasm glow, while Tim was still at least making a lip service attempt at modesty with his cupped hands. Together they made their way back to Sam's and the warmth of a large bed.