Chereads / Chasing Rusty Parker (BL, 18+) / Chapter 11 - Ch. 11 – Do You Ever Dream Of Cat Boys?

Chapter 11 - Ch. 11 – Do You Ever Dream Of Cat Boys?

Chapter Eleven – Do You Ever Dream Of Cat Boys?

Matty played with the straw by pushing it to hit the bottom of his glass and watching it being pushed back by the laws of physics.

"It looks to me like you're developing a little bit of an obsession," Rusty said, stopping his mind from wandering.

"What obsession?"

Rusty grinned. "It's a bit loose, but I think it's about penetration." He pointed at Matty's glass. "We'll get to that in our lessons."

Talking about penetration over breakfast at a fast-food place near campus seemed an unlikely way to begin the day, but there they were, and Matty couldn't say that he was surprised. With Rusty, everything was new, fun, exciting, and by laws of nature yet to be discovered, naturally surprising.

"So," Rusty continued without waiting for a reaction from him, and taking a large bite out of his hamburger, "what's your type?"

"My type?" Matty dallied. He needed to tread carefully. If Rusty began guessing that Matty was crushing on him, all bets would be off, for sure. That would make things awkward between them. Therefore, he needed to play it cool but without appearing like a pathological liar. "I'm flexible, I think."

"Hmm." Rusty examined him with his intense green eyes.

Matty licked his lips and looked away, and then sipped at his soda, pretending that everything was normal. Yeah, right. He had spent the night in the guy's bed. The temptation to shout his victory from the top of his lungs was high, but the logical part of his brain took over. "What's the 'hmm' for?"

"You're flexible, and yet, not one guy has ever been good enough for you. Are you like one of those chicks with a list?" Rusty asked.

Yes, if the list said, tall, blond, kinky, and his name was Rusty Parker. Of course, Matty needed at least a couple of pages to list everything he liked about Rusty, but in a nutshell, that was it. "What kind of list?" he dallied again.

"You know, no older than twenty-seven, playing the piano like Liszt, seven feet tall, in possession of a chauffeur and an army of help, battle scars from his stint in a third world country where he saved a bunch of kids from hunger while learning another – the seventh – foreign language… do you need me to continue?"

"I don't have a list like that," Matty said.

Rusty continued to examine him with narrowed eyes.

"What? I don't," Matty insisted.

"You're not getting away," Rusty warned him. "We'll do a short quiz. But you'll have to answer without thinking. If you take too long, I'll discard the answer."

"What if I say 'no'?"

"We'll be here all day," Rusty threatened.

"Fine." Matty sighed. "Go ahead."

"Hair color?" Rusty began immediately.

"Blond." Matty wanted to bite his tongue.

"Eye color?"

"Green." Fuck, he needed to think ahead if he wanted to fool Rusty. If he asked about height, he'd say average.

"Top or bottom?" Rusty wasn't playing by the rules.

"Both."

"Excellent answer. Momma's boy or the apple of daddy's eye?"

"Just eye candy is enough."

"Smartass," Rusty said under his breath. "Do you ever dream of cat boys?"

"What?" That was a question he hadn't expected.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Rusty said and seemed slightly disappointed.

"I like cats," Matty offered, although he felt like the moment was lost.

"How would you feel," Rusty said slowly, his eyes on Matty as if he wanted to hypnotize him, "about wearing a cat's tail?"

Matty swallowed hard. "How would I do that?"

"You know." Rusty leaned back in his seat. "Sex shops carry this stuff. Fluffy tails attached to butt plugs. I think they'd look good on you."

"I don't know," Matty murmured and searched for help in his soda glass once more.

"It's all right. How would you feel about making out with a cat boy?"

"You mean, someone who cosplays?" Matty asked cautiously.

"Yeah. Some pretty guy, not some alley cat," Rusty assured him.

Matty had a distinct feeling that he knew what kind of cat he liked best, as he looked into Rusty's mischievous green eyes. "I think I'd take the alley cat any day," he said in a heartbeat.

That earned him a surprised, yet pleased look from Rusty. "You don't mind getting down and dirty, do you, Matty?"

With you, any moment of the day or night.

"Why haven't you hooked up with anyone?" Rusty continued his string of questions.

"I like the boyfriend type of thing better," Matty replied promptly.

Rusty grinned, as if he was pleased by that answer. "So, why no boyfriend?"

Matty frowned, trying to form a reply that didn't say Because I've been crushing on you since freshman year. "I guess the right person hasn't come along or something."

"A-ha," Rusty said and pointed his paper napkin at Matty. "You do have a list. That's why no guy is good enough. There's no such thing as the perfect guy, I'm telling you. If you meet someone who seems perfect, something must be wrong with him. Something you can't tell at first."

"Like what?"

"Like, his feet smell bad," Rusty replied immediately. "Or he doubles at night as a stripper and can't get it up, unless you stuff his skimpy underwear with one-dollar bills."

"Kind of a cheap stripper, but okay," Matty admitted the argument. "Wait, did you meet guys like that?"

"I've never looked for a guy," Rusty said with a shrug. "But if I had, I bet I would've found some strippers."

"Loving your confidence," Matty said tersely. "Why cat boys?" he decided to ask a question of his own.

Rusty pursed his lips for a moment, but then he smiled. "Do you read Xpress?"

"Sometimes. When it's about Rusty Parker being into cat boys." That was a bit of a lie. Zoey was the one busy keeping him updated on everything the gossip rag had to say about Rusty.

"Well," Rusty began while stretching and putting his hands behind his head, "how much time do you have?"

Matty grinned. Rusty always liked a challenge, so he rose to the occasion. "Until I finish these fries." To show that he meant business, he grabbed one and dipped it in ketchup.

"Well, for starters, they don't mind showing everything," Rusty said.

Matty grabbed two fries and stuffed them in his mouth.

"I mean, you've seen how tight those costumes are? They need the perfect body for that kind of thing. And, it's like they're basically sex on legs, I mean paws, but because they need to behave like cats, they have to pretend that they don't want it."

"Want what?" Matty stuffed his face with more fries.

Rusty leaned over the table. "They're dudes," he whispered, "and they want to be petted on the butt."

"Just like gay guys," Matty pointed out.

"Nah, nah, you're missing the point. Boy, you have an appetite. Slow down."

"Right." Matty didn't know whether to grab all the fries and gobble them down, or to endure hearing all about cat boys and why Rusty liked them. The chances were that he wasn't any of that, at all.

"What they want is hidden," Rusty continued to explain. "But it's also on display."

"Very confusing." Matty eyed the last two fries. "How's that attractive?"

Rusty grinned again. "You can make them admit it. You can grab them by the tail, smother them in your arms," he illustrated his point by hugging himself, "and then, at one point, they sigh, and they realize that they cannot escape. And that they actually like it a lot. And then, they look at you, like, 'don't stop petting me or I'll scratch your face'. Do you get it now?"

"Wouldn't be easier to get a cat?" Matty suggested, down to the last fry now.

Rusty waved. "Nope. I want a life-size one. I want to pet him and smother him and pull at his tail to annoy him. It just makes things interesting. You can finish that now."

Matty took the fried slice of potato and looked at it. "Nah. I want to hear more about cat boys."

Rusty surprised him by snatching the fry from his fingers with his mouth. Then, he leaned back and chewed, pleased with himself.

"Are you going to come to the game next Saturday?" Rusty asked, changing tack.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Matty said. "Hey, you know there's a live one around here, right? A cat boy?"

Rusty seemed pensive, while Matty waited with bated breath. "So they say," he eventually replied.

Matty didn't know what to make of that. Why wasn't Rusty bragging about meeting the cat boy? And that would have been his chance to learn what Rusty really thought of Slicky Coolplums. Although, again, maybe not. Rusty didn't let on more than he wanted to.

Right now, he wasn't being honest, and Matty felt disappointed for some reason.

"Done?" Rusty asked. "Thanks for the food, man. And don't forget about the game."

"We're going to see each other before then. You can remind me again," Matty joked.

Rusty shook his head. "We'll have to skip our Friday thing."

"Yeah, of course. The game is more important."

"It's not that," Rusty said, but then looked away as if he regretted saying too much. "See you then, Matty. Don't let me down," he added in a playful tone.

Matty just nodded. Why did it feel like Rusty had cracked open a window, only to slam the door in his face? Maybe it was just his imagination. He was overthinking each and every one of Rusty's actions and words. And that wasn't healthy.

***

The annoying part of having his dad attend the game on Saturday wasn't his mere presence, although that was on the list, too. It was everything that came with it, his dad's insistence, his own resistance to whatever the man wanted for him, but without telling it to his face.

Everything was a barter between them. Do you want that new shiny toy, son? Shoot that ball. Do you want me to visit more often? Shoot that ball and be a man. Do you want me to tell you that I love you? Nah, the thought didn't even cross his dad's mind, ever. Rusty doubted Roy Parker really loved anyone, in the sense that he had seen other people doing it. Everything was a strategy with him. He had married Rusty's mom young, and he had considered that a mistake for a long time. Rusty didn't dare to go as far as to ask if he was included in that mistake, because he feared that he knew the answer. Going for validation of that guess wasn't at the top of his list.

His dad had a new family because the woman lived where he worked now, and he needed someone to take care of the house. Someone to have other kids with, because perpetuating his genes had to be somewhere on a list. Rusty had two younger half-siblings he rarely saw, a nine-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl. He didn't need to be that good at math to know when the boy must have been conceived. A little before his mom and dad had divorced. That said a lot about Roy Parker and his penchant for solid planning. Since it was so important for him to come home after work to a warm home-cooked meal and a woman who didn't have any other purpose in life but to serve him, he had made sure to replace Rusty's mom with someone who fit the bill a lot better.

Words muttered under his breath had said a lot about what Roy Parker thought about his first wife. That hadn't been a well-planned choice. Sharon was a fragile soul – his words when he was nice – too inclined toward self-inspection to be practical. Therefore, they were a bad match and had been so from the start.

Rusty shook his head. He was letting his dad get to him without even being present, and that sucked. Even late in his teenage years he had hoped that his dad would come back and admit to having made a mistake. And that he would also assume responsibility for Rusty's mom's melancholies instead of leaving his son to deal with them.

He had dealt with them, in his own way. His mom loved his voice. Sometimes it worked to get her out of her funks, but not always. It was a thankless job, not because she didn't appreciate his singing, but because she always told him not to disappoint his dad. The unspoken words: the way she had done.

That was it. He needed to get into game week mindset. That meant, regretfully, abandoning any thoughts of fooling around with Matty and Slicky Coolplums, the two very bright highlights of his life at the moment. They represented everything his dad hated or, at least, what Rusty was doing with them: superfluous, strange, and - what was another nice word his dad often used? – indecent.

When he had told him over the phone during the summer that he couldn't come visit because he was working as a stagehand alongside Maddox and Jonathan, that conversation had been a weird one. His dad didn't know who Jonathan was. So Rusty had just said the words 'Maddox's boyfriend, soon to be fiancé', just to get a rise out of him. Always thought that boy was a queer one. That had been directed at Maddox. No, his dad hadn't always thought that. On the contrary, he had kept on using Maddox as an example of what it meant to be a man, along with Dex and Kane, because he expected Rusty to develop what he called a healthy competitive spirit, directed against his closest friends.

At least his dad had refrained from telling him to ditch Maddox as a friend. At least he understood Rusty was no longer a boy he could impress with one hard, cold stare or a hurtful word.

Senior year would end, eventually. After that, Rusty was free of his deal with his dad. Roy Parker had asked his son to finish damn college, and that was what he would do. There were no outstanding contracts to consider afterward.

Rusty closed his eyes as he threw himself on the bed. It was a lot more pleasant to think of Matty and his pretty lips. Or about Slicky Coolplums and his tail. Ah, damn, he had to restructure some of his fantasies. While his cock still twitched at the thought of having the two play with each other, just earlier, he had had a revelation: he felt rather possessive of both. Who was to say that he wouldn't get jealous if he had both of them in the same bed?

Wait, the answer was simple. It had been revealed by that weird dream from after just having met Matty in the cafeteria, right? He could be the meat in that sexy tutor and cat boy sandwich. Both of them would go for the Mighty Thor, while Rusty could just chill and enjoy the treatment.

What if they got jealous? He didn't expect it from Matty since he was an uber-cool guy who was only interested in studying; threesomes had to be brought up as a topic to examine during their lessons. However, the cat boy was a different matter. He might just get very jealous of Matty, regardless of having no reason to do that.

Ah, damn, he needed to think things through. Maybe that could be his prize after the game on Saturday, to have those two together, with him between them. It might not happen right away, because he needed to catch the cat boy first, but it was a cool idea to toy with. Would Matty be able to tame the little beast? Rusty liked to think that his sexy tutor had it in him.

But first, he needed to focus on the game and the game only, and boy, that was boring.

He sighed and got up. Ah, but he knew how to make it more interesting. Quickly, he fired out a message to the guys on the team. If they played just for fun at least once, they'd endure game week a lot better.

***

"So, you remembered," Zoey said the moment he answered his phone.

"Remembered what?"

"That you have a bestie, obviously," Zoey pointed out. "Who's just dying to find out all the details. Spit it out. Did you two do it?"

"Zoey, you know it's not like that. And it would be way too gay of him to jump to that, don't you think? He just gave me some, you know, instructions on how to handle guys and such." Matty was sure he was blushing, even though he was completely alone.

"Ah, I see how it is," Zoey said, sounding as sly as a fox that wanted to be caught.

"How is it?" Matty asked, against his better judgement.

"You can't talk about it, which only means one thing."

"Which is? Are you going to make me extract each word from you?"

"It's a little punishment for not telling me everything, but I get it, Matty. It must have been really intense. You two must have crossed lines that have never been crossed before--"

"Dream on," Matty interrupted her.

"It was good, Matty, am I right or am I right?"

"Okay, you're right." Matty sighed and dropped on the bed. "It was good. Or even more than good. I can't describe it."

"I totally get you, my friend. Now, are you ready for us to go watch some basketball practice?"

"What basketball practice? It's Sunday."

"And yet, the guys are practicing with some friendly sparring or something."

"What guys? Do you mean, our guys?"

"Word has it that Rusty convoked an emergency meeting to think up their strategy."

Matty didn't say a word for a moment. Rusty hadn't mentioned that. Not that he had to, since he was free to do what he wanted, but it just felt like, between friends, it should have come up. Maybe they weren't friends. How had he even gotten that idea?

"How do you know about it?"

"It's all over Xpress. All the chicks on campus are there, ready to show their tits to the king."

"Good for them," Matty said dryly. "And him."

"What's with the sour tone, buddy?" Zoey asked.

"I'm not sour," Matty protested.

"You know that's what you're going against. Tits."

"You really like that word, don't you, Zoey? For the record, I'm completely flat in that area, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Not entirely flat," Zoey insisted. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thanks for the pep talk, but what do you want me to do? Go there and flash my naked chest? People are going to think I'm mental."

"Well, I'm sure Rusty would appreciate it."

"Weren't we supposed to hang out and do stuff that is not Rusty-related?"

"What could be more fun than watching a bunch of sexy dudes sweating it out while passing a ball between them?"

"So, this is more for you than me," Matty concluded.

"As long as you're coming, it sounds good to me. Let's go."

"Rusty is going to think it strange that I'm following him everywhere, don't you think?"

"Everyone is going to be there. We'll get lost in the crowd."

Matty had to admit that he felt tempted. The more time he spent with Rusty, the more he wanted to be around him. Not that it was healthy, but otherwise, he lived a pretty healthy life, so he was allowed one vice. "Okay. But we're not going to make ourselves noticed or anything like that."

"Okay. I get it. I concur with your strategy. You need to seem uninterested."

That boat had sailed a long time ago, but there was no reasoning with Zoey. "Yeah, totally," he agreed.

***

Half an hour later, he was hiding in the last row, a baseball cap on his head, and wearing too many clothes. He felt guilty for acting like a stalker, but he couldn't help it. Rusty probably needed a break from all that gay stuff they were doing together. Seeing how electrified the audience was, especially the female part, the king of Sunny Hill would get all the attention he needed from the fairer sex, which he had notoriously neglected lately.

So many times before, he had been in the same situation, watching Rusty on the court, so fast, so precise, like a machine made to score. This informal practice was looser, he could tell. Rusty and the others were clearly having fun, and that made their play all the more entertaining. One guy from the team hugged Rusty tightly and patted his butt briefly after another perfect shot.

"It looks to me like you have to worry about the guys as much as about the gals," Zoey whispered.

"That's just camaraderie, Zoey," Matty protested.

He would have liked this portion of Rusty without jealousy as a side dish, but he had to admit that his crush was as handsy with his teammates as they were with him.

"And how is that different from what you two did all night?"

"It wasn't all night."

"You're wearing shades like a rock star after a night spent on cocaine and pussy."

"Why are we friends, again?" Matty whispered.

"Because someone needs to be the crazy and indecent to your straight-laced and too decent."

"Straight-laced, right. Like a noodle, maybe."

"Joke away. You know that's who you are. Oh, look, he scored again!" Zoey jumped to her feet and applauded frenetically.

It wasn't the big game, but everyone behaved like it was. Matty totally got it. It was happening because of Rusty, his presence on the court made everything so much better and fun. The girls, as expected, were gushing over him. Fortunately, none of them hurried to show her naked chest, much to his relief.

However, once the so-called practice was over, they rushed in droves to get Rusty's attention. That was his cue to make a quiet exit. It wasn't his business if Rusty got laid before the big game, after all. What they had done the night before didn't count as that, of course.

***

Rusty liked the attention, as always, but during the practice he had become restless. Was it because he was already anticipating his dad's presence in the stands? No, it wasn't that. And since when was he looking for someone's approval, in particular?

It had to be because of Matty and all that tutoring. Rusty grimaced. If he wanted the guy's approval that much, he should have told him about the mock practice. Only that he hadn't actually told anyone, except the guys, so everyone present had just come of their own accord.

A short girl struggled to get him down to her level to smooch his cheek and he obeyed. As he lowered his head, he noticed a pink jacket in the crowd that was leaving last. That was Zoey, Matty's bestie; Rusty knew that because she was a big fan of the brightest pink he had ever seen, and she was hard to ignore, now that he knew who she was.

He disentangled himself from the girls' arms and hurried after the pink jacket. Matty had to be around, too, and Rusty found himself wanting to ask him what he had thought about the little show they had just put on. Well, it hadn't been for that, but for the strategy he wanted to discuss with his teammates, but one thing had led to another and he didn't mind it.

He caught the back of the pink jacket, stopping the girl in her tracks. Zoey turned with a nasty expression on her face. Short people tended to be hamster-angry most of the time; probably they suffered a lot because of their height. However, her expression changed when she saw him. "Your Majesty," she said with a broad grin, "those were some moves."

"Thanks, minion," he replied. "Is Matty with you?"

She stared at him nonplussed and only then Rusty noticed that she was moving her eyes to the side, like she wanted to point something out to him without words. Rusty examined the guy standing with his back to them like he wanted to hide from someone. He sensed his eyes narrowing of their own accord as he took in the guy. That was Matty, without a doubt, although it looked like he put on his entire wardrobe only for the sake of looking twice his usual size.

He let his hand land heavily on the guy's shoulder and turned him. Matty jumped and leaned backward so fast that Rusty barely had time to catch him. "Wow, did you get into a fight or something? When did you have the time?"

"I'll leave you guys to it," Zoey said hurriedly.

Matty's lips moved like he wanted to say something, but in the end just pursed in displeasure as they usually did when Rusty was trying to get out of studying with skillful dedication. That didn't work with his tutor, and that made Rusty appreciate him even more. Not many people could brag that they could make him do things of any kind.

"Why would you think that?" Matty turned his head to follow his bestie with his eyes, or at least Rusty could surmise that since the oversized sunglasses were hiding half his face.

Rusty grabbed the shades and removed them to stare at Matty, expecting a black eye. He squinted and examined that cute face from up close.

Naturally, Matty tried to pull back, but Rusty just followed his every move like a homing missile.

"Where's the black eye? Are you using concealer?"

Matty rolled his eyes. "I just have sensitive eyes."

"Right. By the way, where are your prescription glasses?"

"In my dorm room. I also wear contacts, on occasion," Matty explained.

Contacts. Like Slicky Coolplums, but for a different reason. Rusty grabbed Matty's hand, forcing him to follow.

"Where are we going?"

"I just need someone to wash my back," Rusty said matter-of-factly.

"I see no shortage of girls wanting to help," Matty replied and gestured at the girls, who were still trying to get Rusty's attention by waving and calling for him from all sides.

Rusty navigated through the throngs of admirers like the skillful navigator he was. "Sorry, sorry," he repeated with a smile. "I gotta focus on the game. See you guys later."

Matty was huffing and puffing behind him, probably wanting to protest against being made to obey, when it was everything Rusty wanted to live for like for about half an hour, only to annoy the living daylights out of his tutor. That was only part of the truth. All that validation he had been searching for during the game, Matty could give right away and put his mind at ease.

While he had been busy chasing Zoey, and consequently Matty through the crowd, his teammates had already finished showering, and the last of them were getting dressed to leave right then.

Well, there was a still a guy in the buff when he dragged Matty to the locker room, and it took him a moment to realize that he was subjecting Matty to what had to be one of the gay boy's fantasies coming to life right then. So, he pushed Matty behind him and held him there, obscuring the view of that dude's family jewels until he put his pants on.

"What's going on?" Matty asked, trying to get around him.

Just as he played with the ball, Rusty dodged Matty's attempts and held him there without much difficulty.

"Good practice, man." Rusty's teammate high-fived him on his way out. "What are you hiding there? Some girl, you dog?"

"I'm not a girl," Matty protested before Rusty had time to reply.

"Just my friend, Matty."

He couldn't say 'my backwasher' because he had a feeling his friend-slash-tutor would try to murder him a little for it.

Finally, they were alone, and that was what mattered. Matty pulled at his jacket zipper and dropped down on a bench, still huffing and puffing a little.

"Why the hell did you overdress like this?" Rusty asked.

"I was cold," came the deadpan reply. "What was that all about just earlier?" Matty continued undressing, first taking off his jacket, then a couple of sweaters and a shirt, to finally remain in just a t-shirt.

"You're deflecting. Wait, were you trying to disguise yourself or something? Because it didn't work," Rusty warned him.

"Why would I do that?"

"So that you can come incognito to my mock practice and judge my skills without me knowing," Rusty said.

"Yeah, right. What do I know about basketball?"

Rusty pondered. "You're kind of weird, Matthew."

"Oh, Matthew is it now?" Matty played along and grinned. "The real question is: why am I here?"

Rusty opened his arms wide. "Well, that's easy. Have you ever had locker room fantasies and the like?"

Matty nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah. I suppose."

Rusty moved slowly and stopped in front of the other. Matty looked up and their eyes met. "What are the fantasies about?"

Matty smiled. "Do you really want to know?"

That was the cool thing between them. Rusty didn't have to explain too much for Matty to catch what he meant. So, he crossed his arms and leaned slightly, to tower over his tutor and make him tip his head back further. "I want more than that. I want you to show me."

That small glint of mischief in the hazel eyes told him what he needed to know. Still, he grunted in surprise as Matty grabbed and pulled down his shorts and underwear in one fell swoop.

"Is that all?" he challenged.

Matty's smiled broadened and Rusty shivered as smooth fingers rested on his hips, and the next sensation was a warm mouth on the head of his cock, taking him inside.

"It's a real wonder you haven't hooked up so far," Rusty said, exhaling while Matty moved his hands over his crotch, teasing him everywhere, until one hand was solidly wrapped around the base of his cock, and the other was cupping his balls.

"Is this okay?" Matty asked in a whisper. His lips were already wet and parted, and he looked beautiful and guilty.

"I'll stop you if you ever go too far," Rusty assured. "That has never happened with anyone, just so you know." His own voice was low and raspy, and it had to be the high of enjoying practice with the guys mixed with that naked look in Matty's eyes. "Now, go on. You're doing more than fine."

Matty nodded eagerly, and this time, he was a lot more decisive as he took Rusty's cock in his mouth and began to caress it gently with his tongue.

There was no way this guy wouldn't end up blowing gay boys' minds like frigging confetti. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to focus on nothing else but the sensation without letting his mind wander. Not that it wandered far; it just went to Matty, and how nice he looked, sitting there, his mouth full, his eyelashes dropped so prettily and a bit wet, probably because of his sensitive eyes or something.

He was supposed to let Matty do his thing, while he thought of girls. That was probably what Matty thought was happening right now. He expected it. But Rusty, for the first time in forever when it came to sex, discovered that he couldn't deliver what was expected of him.

It was way too enjoyable to separate the person doing it from the act itself. Matty was moaning softly while he took him in as far as he could, showing his lack of experience. Even that was pleasant, causing Rusty to let out a few sounds of his own. "Easy," he begged.

They had fooled around some the night before, so he wasn't supposed to shoot so fast again. When everyone knew him for his staying power, he turned out to be a complete failure when it came to Matty, and that was weird as fuck.

Matty decreased his grip but thought it a good idea to tease the head with little licks. Rusty groaned in exasperation, as well as mind-blowing pleasure. "You naughty jerk," he berated Matty through his teeth, "you deserve what's coming."

His partner in locker room fantasies didn't seem to take it to heart and just moved his head a little faster, until Rusty had to steady himself by holding Matty by the shoulders. One more flick of the tongue and he was gone, his jizz shooting so fast out of him that he barely felt it for a second or so.

Matty let out muffled moans while he continued to drink Rusty dry. Which took a while, and made Rusty shiver in pleasure, as all those sensations spread through his entire body, while Matty took his time to clean him well.

He didn't protest when Matty released him from his mouth and then hugged his waist and pressed his warm cheek against his spent cock. He even caressed Matty's hair. "That was really good," he said. He had dragged his tutor here to hear some praise about the way he played ball, and in turn, he found himself being the guy to offer those praises back, which was kind of new to him.

Anyone he had hooked up with said he was a nice dude, but he had a feeling what was happening here was beyond being nice. And he had a damn hard time defining what it was.

TBC