Chapter 6: Filthy Devotion
The door clicked shut, sealing them in a sudden, profound quiet. The bass from downstairs was a distant ghost of a heartbeat. Chase’s hands were on him before the lock finished engaging, turning him, pressing him back against the wooden door. The kiss wasn’t gentle; it was a claiming, all tongue and teeth and the warm, sweet taste of the beer Chase must have been drinking earlier.
Harrison melted into it, his own hands sliding up Chase’s sculpted sides, feeling the hard ridges of muscle under the soft black cotton of the tank top. He was drowning in the sensation, the sheer Topness of him—the wide shoulders, the powerful chest already swelling against Harrison’s own hairy, softer one, the smell of clean sweat and sharp cologne.
“Fuck, look at you,” Chase breathed against his lips, pulling back just enough to rake his eyes over Harrison’s body in the dim light from a single desk lamp. “ You in that outfit looked so good it was practically a fuckin’ crime against humanity. Had to get you alone.” His hands came to the straps of the blue singlet. With a sharp, deliberate motion, he hooked his fingers under the thin Lycra and pulled, peeling the singlet off Harrison in a single sharp tug.
Harrison gasped, more from the suddenness than the chill. The garment pooled at his feet, leaving him in just his thong. His belly, hairy and full, jiggled with the sharp inhalation.
Chase didn’t speak. He just looked, his gaze hot and reverent. Then he dropped to his knees on the scuffed hardwood.
He started with Harrison’s stomach. Not with his mouth, but with his face, nuzzling into the coarse hair, inhaling deeply. “Christ, you smell good,” he muttered, the words muffled against Harrison’s skin. “Like… like spices and soap and just man. Fuck.” Then his tongue swiped a broad, wet stripe from Harrison’s navel up to his sternum.
Harrison’s head thudded back against the door, a moan escaping him. Chase’s hands held his hips, anchoring him, as he covered Harrison’s belly with open-mouthed kisses and soft, nipping bites. He worshiped the curve, the softness, the sheer abundance of it with a focus that made Harrison’s legs tremble.
“Off,” Chase grunted, his fingers hooking into the waistband of the thong. Harrison lifted his hips, and the blue fabric joined the discarded singlet on the floor. The cool air of the room hit his slick pussy, making him shiver.
Chase sat back on his heels, just looking. Harrison’s locked cocklet, small and useless in its polished steel cage, twitched pathetically against his balls. The metal of the cage glistened in the low light.
“Look at this,” Chase whispered, one blunt finger swiping up Harrison’s ass crack and along his cunt, not entering, just following the slick fold. “So pretty. So fuckin’ ready.” His eyes flicked up to the cage. “And this little guy. It’s adorable, you know that? Perfect little decoration. Lets everyone know what you are.”
The words shouldn’t have sent a fresh wave of heat through Harrison, but they did. They did. This was the script. This was right.
“Your turn,” Harrison managed, his voice rough.
Chase grinned, a flash of white in the dim room. He stood, looming over Harrison. “Gimme your hands.”
Harrison held them up. Chase guided them to the hem of his own tank top. Harrison pulled it up slowly, revealing the carved landscape of Chase’s abdomen, each muscle defined. Then his chest.
Harrison’s breath caught.
Chase’s tits were massive, round and full, topped with dark, puffy nipples. And they were leaking. Two distinct, damp circles darkened the grey fabric of his tank top, and now, freed, a thin trickle of creamy milk beaded at each tip. The scent was sweet and faintly musky, utterly distinct.
“You’re leaking,” Harrison said, awed.
“Always am for a prime piece of bottom like you,” Chase said, his voice husky. “Makes my tits ache. Wanna taste?”
Harrison didn’t need to be asked twice. He leaned forward, capturing one nipple in his mouth. The taste was rich and sweet, flooding his senses. Chase groaned, a deep, resonant sound, and tangled his fingers in Harrison’s hair, holding him close. Harrison suckled, drawing the milk out in warm, generous pulls, while his own hands kneaded the heavy, muscular flesh of Chase’s other tit. Milk trickled from the corners of his mouth, down his beard.
They migrated to the bed, a tangle of limbs and hungry mouths. Chase laid Harrison down, covering his body with his own, their kisses turning slower, deeper. Chase’s hands were everywhere—caressing the swell of Harrison’s belly, gripping the fat of his ass, sliding through the thick hair on his chest.
“I told your dad I’d worship you,” Chase murmured into his ear, his breath hot. His lips trailed down Harrison’s neck, over his collarbone. “Said it’d be an honor. You think Walt would be proud? Seeing his boy laid out like a feast, getting the treatment he deserves?”
The mention of his father, in this context, sent a complex thrill through Harrison—a mix of forbidden heat and profound validation. “Yes,” Harrison gasped. “He would.”
“Good.” Chase moved lower, his tongue tracing circles around Harrison’s navel before journeying further south. He paused, his face hovering over Harrison’s cunt. He breathed in deeply. “Greedy hole’s been drippin’ for me all night, hasn’t it?”
Then his tongue was on him, flat and broad and perfect, licking a long, slow stripe from his taint to the very top of his slit. Harrison cried out, back arching off the mattress. Chase ate him out with a devoted, filthy thoroughness, his tongue plunging inside, then circling his rim, his stubble rough on Harrison’s inner ass cheeks. He drank Harrison’s slick like it was nectar, groaning his approval into Harrison’s flesh.
It was too much and not enough. Harrison thrashed, his hands scrabbling at Chase’s broad shoulders, his buzz cut. The butterflies in his stomach weren’t nerves; they were a storm of pure, fizzy elation. This was it. This was what he was made for.
When Chase finally moved up, lining his thick, leaking cock up against Harrison’s entrance, he paused, looking into Harrison’s eyes. “Ready?”
Harrison could only nod, his throat tight with want.
Chase pushed in, and the world dissolved into a single, perfect point of fullness. He moved with a devastating, worshipful rhythm, each thrust measured and deep. He leaned down, pressing his milk-swollen chest to Harrison’s face. “Drink,” he commanded softly.
Harrison obeyed, suckling as Chase fucked him, the dual sensations of being filled and nourished blurring into one overwhelming wave of pleasure. Chase’s words were a constant, filthy prayer in his ear. “Such a good boy. Takin’ me so good. Fuck, that cunt is heavenly. Made for this. Made for gettin’ fucked by Tops.”
Harrison came first, his orgasm wracking through him with a silent, breathless intensity, his pussy clenching rhythmically around Chase’s cock. That sent Chase over the edge. With a final, deep thrust and a choked shout, Chase spilled inside him, his body going taut before collapsing onto Harrison, sweaty and spent.
For long minutes, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing. Chase didn’t pull out; he stayed buried, his weight a comforting anchor. He nuzzled into Harrison’s neck, pressing a soft kiss there.
“Wow,” Harrison breathed.
“Yeah,” Chase agreed, his voice sleep-slurred. He shifted, finally slipping out, and rolled to the side, pulling Harrison against him. His hand idly stroked Harrison’s heaving belly. “You’re incredible.”
They lay in silence, Harrison’s head on Chase’s pectoral, listening to his heart slow. This was tender. This was… more than just a hookup. Harrison felt a dangerous, warm affection curling in his chest.
“So,” Chase said after a while, his fingers tracing patterns in Harrison’s chest hair. “You got plans tomorrow?”
Harrison’s heart leapt. “No. Why?”
A slow grin spread on Chase’s face. It was boyish and wicked all at once. “Wanna get fucked by a few more of my brothers?”
The question was so casual, so expected in their world, yet it landed with a strange weight after the intimacy they’d just shared. Harrison shoved the complexity aside. This was the dream. This was college.
“Hell yes,” he said, his voice eager.
Chase’s grin widened. “Knew you were a keeper.” He slapped Harrison’s ass playfully. “Come on. They’re probably still downstairs. Let’s go give ‘em a show.”
The walk back into the pulsing heart of the frat house felt different. Harrison was naked now, save for his cock cage, covered in the marks of Chase’s mouth and the evidence of their sex. He felt claimed. Shown off. Chase kept a proprietary arm around his shoulders as they descended the stairs into the noisy, crowded living room.
“Hey! Look who’s still hungry!” Chase announced to a group of Tops clustered around a beer pong table—Drew, Mikey, and Paul from the porch, plus a few others.
A chorus of cheers and whistles erupted. Drew, the one with the lip ring, set his cup down. “Damn, Chase. Left some for us?”
“Plenty,” Chase said, steering Harrison into the center of the room. “He’s a bottom of plenty. Look at this.” He gave Harrison’s belly an affectionate jiggle.
Hands were on him immediately. Friendly, admiring hands. Mikey came up behind him, his big tits pressing into Harrison’s back as he palmed Harrison’s stomach from behind. “How’s the stamina, big guy? Still got juice in the tank?”
Paul knelt behind him again, this time without ceremony, and pressed his face between Harrison’s asscheeks, licking a broad stripe over his sensitive, used pussy. Harrison groaned, his hands finding purchase on Drew’s muscular shoulders as Drew leaned in to kiss him, the taste of beer and Chase’s milk mixing on his tongue.
This was it. This was his place. The adoration was a physical force, a wave of approval and desire that washed over him, through him. He was a slut, a whore, a prize. And he loved it. He grinned around Drew’s kiss, laughing as another Top—a guy he didn’t know with a shaved head and kind eyes—cupped his ass.
See? he thought, the ghost of Gus’s shy, conflicted face trying to intrude on the euphoria. You love this. You love Tops. You love their hands, their mouths, their cocks. You love being this. How could you possibly be a lesbian?
The logic felt unassailable, a solid rock in the swirling pleasure. He belonged here, in this noisy, sweaty room, being passed from one set of strong hands to another. He belonged to this.
Chase watched from the edge of the circle, smiling, a proud glint in his eye. Harrison caught his gaze and winked, just as Drew turned him around, bending him over the edge of the pool table. The felt was cool and smooth against his heated skin.
“Alright, who’s first?” someone called out.
Harrison closed his eyes, spreading his legs wider, presenting himself. The first touch of a new cock at his entrance was a blunt promise. He let out a happy, wanton sigh.
All was right in the world.