My Straight Friend and My Crush | E7

All characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

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Max Didn’t Want Noah to Be Better, So He Took It a Step Further.

They met by chance at the gym door. Max was just leaving, Noah was just entering. A handshake, a quick glance. Seemingly normal.

"Did you see Matt?" Max asked with a hint of challenge, though seemingly carefree.

Noah shrugged. He glanced at him, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I dropped by. I did him good. Deeper than you did." He said it as if he were talking about the weather.

He smiled and went inside without looking back.

Max remained on the sidewalk, as if something had hit him in the chest. The smile disappeared. His heart beat faster. He didn't say a word, but his body betrayed everything: clenched jaw, throbbing tension in his temples, sudden, instinctive warmth under his skin.

Jealousy gnawed at him more deeply than he wanted to admit. But it wasn't just about rivalry.

It was something more.

A kind of hunger. A desire that hadn't died since that night, but had smoldered quietly until now, when it exploded.

He couldn't let Noah have the last word.

Not when he knew how Matt tasted.

Not when he remembered his moans, his spasms, the way his cock throbbed in his throat.

Max got in the car and pressed the gas pedal harder than necessary.

He didn't have a plan, but he knew one thing:

He would do something Noah didn't dare to do.

He wrote briefly, as if in passing: "Got a minute? My back is killing me."

I replied immediately: "Come over."

When Max entered the apartment, he had his usual relaxed attitude, smile, shoulders relaxed, confident stride. But I knew him well enough to see what was going on underneath. His eyes were darker. His breathing shallower.

"I really need a massage," he said, taking off his jacket. "I've been tense all day."

"Sure," I replied calmly. "Lie down."

He didn't ask where. He went straight to the bedroom. As if he knew.

He undressed slowly. First his shirt. Then his pants. Finally, his underwear. Completely naked, he lay down on the bed, face down. The skin on his back was already slightly pink, his muscles tense. I felt my cock react immediately, heavy, hardening.

I reached for the oil. I warmed it in my hands.

"Let me know if it's too hard," I said.

"I like it hard," he muttered, burying his face in the pillow.

I started with his neck. Slowly. Confidently. The oil glistened on his skin, and my hands slid over his warm muscles. Shoulder by shoulder. Spine. I could feel his body responding to my touch, his breathing becoming deeper, heavier. His back rose with each breath.

"Fuck..." he whispered quietly.

I moved my hands lower. To his lower back. To his hips. I hadn't touched the most obvious part yet, but the tension was everywhere. Max shifted restlessly, as if he wanted more, but didn't dare to turn around yet.

And I... I already knew that the massage was just the beginning.

And that in a moment, everything would change.

He lay quietly, his face buried in the pillow, his breathing deeper and deeper, his body more and more tense. My hands glided over his back, his neck, the sides of his ribs, lower, to his loins, hips, buttocks. The oil made his skin shine, and each touch penetrated deeper into him.

He didn't have to say anything. I could feel him with my whole being. His body was ready. His butt, soft, tense, warm, slightly raised, as if already inviting me.

I stopped my hands on his buttocks. I massaged them slowly, carefully. Max flinched. Almost imperceptibly.

And then... he said it, without turning around, quietly, into the pillow, as if he was afraid that if he said it louder, everything would fall apart:

"Fuck me."

I froze. But only for a second. Because his voice was so real, so raw, that it shook me more than any scream could have.

"I need this. Badly," he added.

I swallowed. My cock was already rock hard, throbbing with every heartbeat. I bent over him, resting my hand on his spine, feeling his body tremble under my touch.

He didn't turn around. He didn't look me in the eyes. But it wasn't shame. It was trust. Devotion. Allowing me to take the lead.

I leaned down and kissed him between his shoulder blades. Briefly. Respectfully.

Then I reached for more oil. I poured it between his buttocks and slowly, methodically, began to rub it in until I reached the center. I felt him spread his thighs slightly.

Max was ready. And he was waiting.

And I was going to give him what he asked for. My way. With all of me.

He lay in front of me on the bed, his hips slightly raised, as if his body knew what it wanted. The oil made his skin slippery and hot. Between his buttocks, it was already wet, ready. Max was breathing heavily, irregularly.

I took off the rest of my clothes. My shirt fell to the floor. My pants, my boxers.

My cock sprang out, hard, swollen, wet with precum. It was throbbing. I could feel it with my whole being.

I leaned over Max and slowly moved my cock across the middle of his ass. Once. Twice. Three times. Deliberately. Teasingly.

Max moaned softly, digging his fingers into the sheet.

"Matt..." he whispered, barely audible.

I didn't answer. Instead, I grabbed his hips firmly and slid into him slowly, inch by inch. His body accepted me with a tremor, but without resistance. I felt him open up, relax, give me every part of himself.

I stopped deep inside him. I let him feel my weight. My control.

"Breathe," I said low.

I started to move. Slowly. Deeply. Each thrust was full, controlled, almost lazy, but it carried power. Max moaned into the pillow, his body rocking, his hips pulling back toward me, asking for more.

I gradually picked up speed. The rhythm became stronger, deeper. The impact of my hips against his buttocks was heavy, steady. I could feel him losing control, surrendering completely to me.

"Fuck... yes..." he whispered, shaken.

I grabbed him tighter, pressed him against the bed, and came deep inside him with a muffled groan. I felt my cum fill him in waves, my body trembling over his.

I stayed inside him for a moment, breathing with him.

Max lay there. Naked. Sweaty. His throat tight with emotion.

And I knew that I had just gotten into his head. Deeper than anyone else.

And that this rivalry wasn't going to end anytime soon.

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