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Every time the Bears get up by 10 points, they get cocky and lazy, and inevitably blow the game. This Sunday, it happened right after halftime. A field goal took them up by 10. You could almost visibly see them relax. And then within one minute of game time, the Packers were up by 5.

“Turning it off,” I texted Chris.

“Pathetic,” he agreed. “I can’t watch this sober. Need a beer and I’m out.”

“Swing by next time,” I said.

“Need a drink now.”

I hadn’t expected to entertain, but wasn’t too bent out of shape that he was inviting himself over to drink my beer. Chris is a decent guy. I’d known him a few weeks, since a Saturday night when he came over with my friend Alix; I still thought I might be recovering from that night. He texted me last Sunday about the game, so I knew he would be watching.

I wasn’t sure if he was planning to make it by the end of the game. I picked up the apartment a little and then jumped in the shower. I could hear my phone vibrating as soon as I was good and soapy. It was a mad dash to get rinsed off and buzz him in.

“Nice,” he said at my door. “I think you’re melting.” He pointed to the little pools between the shower and the door.”

“Help yourself to the kitchen,” I said, holding my towel together with one hand and heading back toward the bathroom.

Before I got there, I heard “”Hey Payton, catch” I turned to see that Chris had picked up my football from the basket by the door. “Screen,” he said, throwing it hard and fast at my chest.

My reaction was instinctive, and I felt a rush of adrenaline as I caught it handily. It was very satisfying to make the quick play. I realized, though, that my towel was dangling, then dropping.

Chris laughed. “That’s classic. Hold it up.”

“The ball?” I asked, holding up the ball, only to see that he had his phone ready to snap a picture of me, naked but for the football.

I shook my head while he laughed.

I found him in the kitchen after I’d dressed. He opened a cabinet, then looked in the pantry.

“The beer is in the fridge. The big white thing, over there,” I pointed.

Chris reached into the pantry and pulled out a couple of red solo cups, holding them up for me. My face reddened a bit. When he’d come over before, we’d played beer pong. Yadda, yadda, yadda, and that night probably got a little carried away.

“I figured you might be game,” he said, putting the cups on the table and going to the fridge.

I passed my hand over my face. “Oh, so you think a beer pong game is going to help you cope with the Bears?”

He answered by bouncing a ball into the cup. “Drink,” he said, pointing at me with his elbow.

We exchanged a couple rounds bingöl escort of drinks, before a knock sounded on the back door. I had called the building that morning because I couldn’t get my back lock to turn.

I opened the back door to see Rob, the guy from the building. It only took me a minute to show him the lock. He said he’d have to go see if he could find a replacement that would work. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow.

“You’d better put a chair up against the door while you have no lock,” offered Chris. Rob laughed.

“I don’t think we’re going to get any intruders this afternoon,” I said. But as I turned back toward Chris, I saw that he’d set his phone on the table, the picture of me, naked with the ball, in plain site. That upped the stakes a bit, and told me I had to get Rob out of there before he caught this joke that Chris really wanted to make.

I walked Rob toward the door, and closed it after him.

“Nice,” I said, as soon as the door closed.

“You’re afraid he’s going to see it and get the wrong idea?”

“Give me that phone,” I said, reaching for it.

“This…” Chris looked at his screen, zooming it in. “This is quite a picture. Were you pretty cold?”

“Oh come on. You caught me when I was in motion.” I looked at the phone. “Plus there’s a big shadow right there.”

“Well we can see what the ladies think of it,” he said, tapping at his phone.

“Very funny. You gotta delete it.”

“I’m going to upload it, and then the girls on this site will all give you a rating for whether they’d do you or not.”

“Come on, delete it. I’ll give you a beer.”

“Already have one,” he held it up. “You want me to take a better picture before I upload it? Who knows, might be a big confidence-builder.”

“How about this,” I said. “We’ll take another one, but only from the chest down, and you gotta let me prepare a little bit.”

“Go for it, big guy,” laughed Chris.

I unbuckled my belt with Chris watching me. This was starting to seem a little edgy, and close, and I could feel my dick stiffening up. But not a bad thing if Chris was intent on exposing me to thousands of random girls. I dropped my jeans and kicked them against the wall.

“All right, work with me” said Chris, acting the part of the photographer. “Lean up against the table.”

I sat on the edge of the table in my Calvins, thrusting my hips forward a little bit to show the line of my hardon.

“Ha ha. Nice,” he said. “Pull them; down. Give the girls a big show.”

I pulled my underwear down, my dick bouncing as the waistband snapped past it. It was sticking straight out at Chris. Then I leaned back and sat up on the table bingöl escort bayan so that my big boner rested against my stomach. I tried to picture what the chicks would go for.

“There you go, buddy,” said Chris, pointing his phone camera at my dick.

“Hope you’re satisfied,” I said. “Guess I need another drink.” I turned to the table for a beer. I heard his camera snap a picture of my ass. “You’re kidding me.”

“This one is going on the site for the dudes,” he said, flipping through the pictures.

“No way, man.”

“Here you go, turn around,” he said, turning me again so I leaned against the table. “They would really dig this.” He reached down for my knee, and pulled it up on the table. With one hand, he pushed on my back until I was bent over, one leg up on the table. He started snapping shots. Must of looked like a complete porn scene.

Problem was, when he pushed me up on the table, my dick pressed against the table, and it was turning me on. Pretty fucked up for Chris to be taking dude porn pictures of me on a Sunday afternoon, but now I could feel my dick throbbing.

“We’re going to make this really convincing,” I heard him say. I heard the clink of his belt buckle. And then he stood close behind me.

Something touched my ass. “You are not fucking serious,” I said. I looked over my shoulder and confirmed that he was really trying to make this look like a porn shoot.

His dick was rigid, and I could feel the soft skin of it, and the hard rod against my ass. He held it by the base with his left hand, while he took another picture with his right hand.

“You can’t see my face, right.”

He put his phone on the table and leaned up against me. I pushed back against him, not sure where he was going with this, but he pressed his weight against me, pinning me.

“Wait a minute, I thought you were just going to grab a couple shots,” I said, holding onto the sides of the table.

He put his hand on my ass, and I could feel something slippery. And then I felt him guide his huge pole between my legs, the head sliding up and down across my hole.

“What the fuck,” I said in a low voice.

He slid the tip of his dick back and forth a couple times, then pressed it forward into me.

“Ah, fuck,” I said. This is completely fucked up. How did I end up bent over my table with a huge dick pushing into me.

He slid it in and out a few times, then pushed deeper. I felt the pain shoot through me. But then he started hitting a spot that felt like the back of my dick. At first I thought it was going to make me piss. And then there was this deep pressure that felt like the edge of an orgasm.

“Ah escort bingöl fuck,” I said again, holding onto the sides of the table. I reached between my legs, and had the freaky sensation of feeling the thick shaft of his dick sliding into my ass. I could feel his balls, almost against mine.

He was pushing his dick in, with quick deep thrusting motions. I straightened up a little, and my dick bounced against the table. And then I could feel pressure rising up behind my dick.

I’m thinking three things at the same time. What the fuck am I doing here? Did Chris plan this, and did he really think I would let him do anything like this? I wonder if I can cum from that pressure.

He slid in deep, and I felt a little dizzy. I could feel the warm spot where his dick pushed all the way in. He pushed it again, and I knew it was going to happen.

“Come on,” I said, reaching my hand back to pull him toward me. Not going to lose it now. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it. He thrust again, and I could feel my cum starting to pump out. I watched, completely turned on as a thick rope shot out across the table, in response to his push. And then three more shots of milky liquid streaked across my table.

And then I see Rob pass in front of the back window, pausing, then continuing to the door. My dick spurted again, and I squeezed it for a second. Rob’s knock sounded at the door.

“You’re kidding me,” said Chris, as I pulled forward and left him with his hard-on straight in front of him. I grabbed my pants, and Chris shuffled out of the kitchen, trying to pull his pants up while he walked. I went quickly to the door and let Rob in.

Rob held up the part, with a pair of players in his other hand.

“Great,” I said, my voice tight. My table was covered in streaks of cum. I stepped between Rob and the table until he turned to the door, then I went to the sink, where I wet a paper towel.

I could see Chris just outside the kitchen door. His pants were still down. He jerked his dick a few more times, then squeezed it while he shot out on my living room floor.

I looked at Rob, wondering if he heard the splattering sound from Chris.

I shook my head. Chris was fastening his pants. I wiped the table and heard him go to the door. Rob glanced around as I wiped the table, and I wondered what he’d seen.

I started toward the kitchen door, then heard the front door close as Chris let himself out. I wiped his cum off my living room floor.

And there I stood, my back door open with the wind blowing through. Rob intent on the back doorknob. My dick wet in my underwear. Hard to shake a feeling that I still had a big rod in my ass. Carrying a paper towel wet with Rob’s cum and my cum. Half thinking I should never have let that happen. Half thinking I would be up for that again.

How does everything get so turned around in a couple hours? Everything is different.

And then I looked at my phone, and realized the Bears had lost again.

Some things never change.

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