Chapter 8: Extracurriculars p2
Alex leaned against the cool hallway wall, the professor’s taste still a faint chemical ghost on his tongue, and typed a reply to Jhonny. Better be real sweaty & musky for me this time, he sent, a giddy thrill cutting through his post-Meek exhaustion.
Jhonny’s response was immediate. Callate, joto, the text read. Your puta mouth just needs to be open. Meet me at the Redwood trails. Midnight. Bitch ass.
He added another message, the anger palpable. Stupid baby mama too clean for my shit. Wouldn’t drink my piss. Told me to fuck off. Alex smirked, pocketing his phone and the soiled towel. This was a far clearer transaction.
The day went by as usual. Exchanging flirty looks with with Professor Scott during his first class, then his engineering class with professor Powers.
He showered, scrubbing himself pink and hairless with clinical precision. Every detail was part of the preparation. He dressed in dark, loose clothes he wouldn’t mind getting dirty, and shoved a small bottle of water and some mints into his pocket. He stared at his reflection, a clean slate smelling of soap and mint, an empty vessel waiting to be filled with someone else’s filth, his earlier thrill at unsettling Meek now refined into a sharp, singular hunger.
The woods at night were a different creature. The familiar trails dissolved into a black wall of pine and shadow at the tree line. He flicked on his phone's flashlight, the beam cutting a shaky tunnel through the choking dark. Twigs snapped under his sneakers, a sound too loud in the silence, and the air grew cold and damp, smelling of wet earth and decaying leaves.
He found Jhonny leaning against a massive redwood, a darker silhouette against the bark, the red ember of a joint glowing in his hand. "Took you long enough, joto," Jhonny grumbled, his voice rough. He exhaled a cloud of skunky smoke that mixed with the forest rot. "Get over here."
Alex approached, the beam of his light catching Jhonny’s tired, irritable face, and the hard outline of his jeans. He could smell him already—weed, stale sweat, and the sharp, sour note of unwashed arousal—and his mouth watered. He killed the flashlight, plunging them into a deeper dark where sound and scent took over. "Your girl really said no?" Alex asked, kneeling in the soft, damp mulch, his voice barely a whisper.
"Yeah, man, fucking bitch," Jhonny hissed, grabbing a fistful of Alex's hair, their transaction clear.
"Yeah, man, fucking bitch," Jhonny hissed, grabbing a fistful of Alex's hair, their transaction clear. He yanked Alex’s face forward into the damp, heavy denim covering his crotch. “She don’t know what she’s missing, but you do, right, puta?”
Alex didn’t resist, letting himself be maneuvered. He nuzzled the rough fabric, inhaling deeply as the thick, complex scent flooded his senses. It was a dense cocktail of dried sweat, skin, cheap detergent, and the unmistakably sweet, tangy musk of a man who’d been simmering in frustration all day.
“Smell that, huh?” Jhonny grunted, grinding Alex’s face against himself. “That’s what your nasty ass wanted.”
Alex made a soft, affirmative sound against the bulge, his own excitement coiling tight. He breathed in again, deeper this time, letting the raw, animal reality of Jhonny erase the sterile scent of Professor Meek’s office. This was primal, honest filth, and it made his head swim with need.
“Gonna taste it now, you hungry joto?” Jhonny’s voice was a dark, teasing pressure above him.
Alex nodded against him, his fingers fumbling with the belt and button. He didn’t speak, letting his actions answer. He got the jeans open, pulling them down just enough, and the hotter, more concentrated smell bloomed in the cold air, tinged with another, sharper, feminine note.
Jhonny’s boxers followed. Alex leaned in, his nose skimming the coarse hair, before he finally opened his mouth and took him in. The taste was complex, salty and skin-bitter, but layered beneath it was a faint, vinegar-like slickness that wasn’t Jhonny’s. Alex moaned around him, the forbidden mix of them both unlocking a deeper, more visceral hunger.
“Yeah, suck that dick, mami,” Jhonny breathed, his hips pushing forward. “Clean that shit off. Swallow it.”A twig snapped in the blackness beyond their little clearing. It was a dry, deliberate sound. Alex froze, his mouth still full, and Jhonny’s hand tightened in his hair. “The fuck was that?” Jhonny whispered, his voice suddenly flat and alert. Both of them stared into the impenetrable wall of trees, the night air now thick with a new, watching silence.
Both of them stared into the impenetrable wall of trees, the night air now thick with a new, watching silence.
“Probably just a fuckin’ raccoon,” Jhonny muttered, but his grip on Alex’s hair didn’t loosen. His muscles stayed coiled, listening. Alex held perfectly still, every nerve screaming, until Jhonny shoved his head back down. “Whatever. Don’t stop. Open up, right now,, te vas a tomar mis miados.” he commanded, his voice tight. The first hot, bitter stream hit the back of Alex’s throat, and he swallowed convulsively, the sheer volume overwhelming his senses. It was surprisingly odorless but intensely salty, a continuous flood that demanded submission.
He drank until his stomach felt taut and warm, the act itself a deeper filth than any taste. A soft, choked rustle came from the same patch of darkness as before—a quick, startled inhalation. Jhonny finished, shaking himself off onto Alex’s face, and zipped up with a sharp sound. “Someone’s there,” Alex whispered, wiping his mouth with a trembling hand, the adrenaline sour in his throat.
“Hey!” Jhonny barked into the blackness, his bravado back now that he was done. “The fuck you looking at, pervert?” A figure detached itself from the deeper shadows near a thicket, stepping into a faint shaft of moonlight. It reminded Alex of Gabe, one of his classmates. His long hair hanging limp, his eyes wide behind his glasses, gleaming with a rapt, horrified fascination. The mysterious man stared, not at Jhonny, but directly at Alex kneeling in the dirt.
The stranger’s mouth hung open for one frozen second, his glasses catching the faint moonlight. Then he spun around and crashed through the underbrush, twigs snapping violently under his panicked flight. The sound of him thrashing away faded into the forest's stillness.
Alex climbed to his feet, brushing damp soil from his knees. How can Alex be sure if that was Gabe? It’s so dark out here. His heart still thudding against his ribs. The fleeting glimpse had been of a pale, startled face, but the details were swallowed by shadow.
Jhonny wiped his palms on his jeans, his earlier bravado now edged with a sharp, paranoid energy. “Fuck this, holmes. That shit’s creepy,” he muttered, his eyes still scanning the trees where the figure vanished. He shifted his weight, the prominent bulge in his jeans a clear, unsatisfied demand. “I don’t wanna get busted out here. But I ain’t finished.”
He fished his keys from his pocket, the metallic jingle loud in the quiet. “My van’s right down the street, on Ashwood,” he said, already starting to move toward the trailhead. “Tinted windows, dude. We can just pull behind the old warehouse. No one’s gonna see a thing.”
Alex hesitated, the cold air biting through his clothes, the unseen eyes still feeling present on his skin. “Yeah, okay,” he finally agreed, the promise of Jhonny’s musk and the van’s enclosed darkness overwhelming his unease. He followed Jhonny’s retreating back, the taste of him still lingering.
He followed Jhonny’s retreating back, the taste of him still lingering, the crunch of their footsteps on gravel marking their retreat from the watchful trees. They burst out of the tree line onto a dimly lit residential street, the sudden glare of a lone sodium lamp making Alex blink.
The van was an old, boxy Chevy Astro parked under the sickly yellow light, its windows tinted nearly black. "Home sweet home, joto," Jhonny grunted, sliding the side door open with a metallic screech that echoed down the quiet street. A wave of dense, lived-in air rolled out—a potent blend of stale weed smoke, greasy fast-food wrappers, unwashed socks, and beneath it all, the sharp, ammoniac sting of old urine.
Jhonny shoved a pile of crusty work clothes and a battered skateboard to one side, clearing a stained mattress on the van floor. Alex climbed in, the scent enveloping him, a familiar yet always startling assault that made his throat tighten and his pulse pick up. His eyes adjusted, spotting several plastic Gatorade bottles lining the wall near the front seats, their contents a dark, ominous yellow in the gloom.
"You see that?" Jhonny said, slamming the door shut and plunging them into a tight, smelly darkness punctuated only by the faint orange light from the dashboard. He grabbed one of the bottles, sloshing the liquid inside. "My homeboys crash here, man. They don't wanna go outside to take a leak at night."
He thrust the bottle toward Alex. "Got a little of everyone in there." Alex took it, the plastic cold in his hand, the scent rising through the cap both repellent and deeply compelling. Jhonny watched him, a mean, teasing grin spreading across his face.
"I know you wanna," he said, his voice a low, challenging growl. "You a fucking puta for this nasty shit, maricon. Prove it." The mixture was a cloudy, layered brownish-yellow, a cocktail of strangers. Alex’s stomach churned, but the command, the sheer forbidden filth of it, pulled at him harder than any revulsion.c
Alex’s stomach churned, but the command, the sheer forbidden filth of it, pulled at him harder than any revulsion. He broke the seal with a faint crack, the odor punching up into his nostrils—a fermented, acrid blend of stale hops and chemical salt. “Bottoms up, puta,” Jhonny whispered, his eyes gleaming in the dark.
Alex tilted the bottle back, the cold, stagnant liquid hitting his tongue. He gagged violently, a convulsion that seized his throat; it was bitter and profoundly artificial, like warm beer cut with ammonia and rust. He forced himself to swallow, the chill of it wrong in his gut, a far cry from the intimate, living heat he craved straight from the source.
The aftertaste coated his mouth, a lingering metallic tang that made him shudder. “Fuck, that’s rank,” he coughed, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. “Warm from the tap’s one thing, but this is just… dead.”
“Stop whining and open up,” Jhonny grunted, his belt already undone. He fisted a hand in Alex’s hair. “Suck it clean, fag. Then turn the fuck around and show me that hole.”Alex complied, leaning forward to take him in his mouth, the familiar, musky warmth a welcome anchor. As he worked, Jhonny’s spit-slicked fingers found their way behind him, pressing hard and circling without finesse. One thick digit pushed inside him, a rough, burning intrusion that made Alex gasp around Jhonny’s cock
The finger worked in deeper, a dry, painful stretch that forced a ragged moan from Alex’s throat. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” Jhonny grunted, his other hand shoving Alex’s head down further onto his cock. “Take it, bitch.” Alex’s eyes watered from the dual assault, the van’s odors swirling with the taste of skin and salt.
Jhonny pulled his finger out, leaving Alex empty and throbbing. “Hold on,” he muttered, rummaging with one hand through a stained gym bag shoved against the driver’s seat. His free hand kept Alex’s mouth pinned on him, a wet, demanding anchor. Alex heard the rustle of fabric, then a soft, crinkling sound.
“Found it,” Jhonny said, a dark chuckle in his voice. He withdrew a stiff, grayish jockstrap, its fabric matted and crusted into strange, discolored shapes. The smell that bloomed from it was staggering, a dense, fermented funk of old sweat, dried cum, and sour musk that instantly drowned out the van’s baseline stink. “This’ll get you right.”
He didn’t ask, just smothered Alex’s face with it, pressing the rough, stiff cup over his nose and mouth. The world vanished into a fog of concentrated male filth, a history of grunting release from Jhonny and his friends now sealing Alex in. He breathed in sharply, involuntarily, and the complex, rancid sweetness flooded his head, dizzying and profoundly degrading.
“Fucking heaven for a joto like you,” Jhonny snarled, using the straps to yank Alex’s head back before shoving his jeans down past his thighs. Alex could barely see, the fabric a filthy blindfold, every gasp pulling that intoxicating, punishing scent deeper into his lungs. His own arousal, a sharp counterpoint to his revulsion, twitched painfully against his jeans.
Jhonny spat into his hand, the sound wet and close. “Now stay still.” He positioned himself, his blunt, insistent pressure finding its mark as Alex trembled beneath the crusted fabric, choking on the smell of a dozen other men.
He pushed in with a single, relentless shove that stole the air from Alex's lungs. "Fuck, you're tight, mami," Jhonny grunted, his hips settling against Alex's trembling flesh. He began a ruthless, piston-like rhythm, the van's springs squeaking in protest with every deep, claiming thrust.
"Remember that park?" Jhonny hissed, his breath hot against Alex's ear as he pounded into him. "How you drank my shit straight from the tap like a good little perra?" Alex could only moan in response, the filthy jockstrap still smothering his face, each drive of Jhonny's hips jolting a muffled sound from his throat.
Jhonny suddenly pulled out, leaving Alex clenching at empty air. "Nah, we can do better than that." He snatched up one of the cold, yellow-filled bottles from the floor, unscrewing the cap with a sharp crack. "This time, I'm gonna bottle-feed that hungry puchita of yours."
His
"Just chill and take it mami," Jhonny grunted, tilting the bottle. The cold plastic nozzle pressed against him, a shocking violation that made Alex cry out into the filthy jockstrap. The stagnant liquid, a cocktail from Jhonny's homies, flooded into him, a shocking, icy rush that was profoundly wrong.
It was a deep, internal chill that instantly burned, a relentless fullness that erased all other thought. Alex arched, a strangled gasp tearing through the crusted fabric, his body shaking uncontrollably from the strange, illicit ecstasy of being used as their communal toilet. The cold morphed into a seeping warmth that spread through his core, unlocking a shameful, piercing pleasure that short-circuited his mind.
He bit down on the jockstrap, moaning as his hips pushed back helplessly against the bottle, lost in the degrading bliss. "See that? You're fucking begging for it now," Jhonny chuckled, tossing the empty bottle aside where it clattered against the others. He peeled the soaked jockstrap from Alex's face, revealing his tear-streaked, wrecked expression.
"Yeah, look at you," Jhonny sneered, spitting into his palm before slicking himself again. "All warmed up and dirty inside." He didn't wait, didn't tease. He drove back into that sodden, violated heat with a single brutal thrust that rattled the van's frame. The filthy cushion of the fluid inside him created a shocking, slick friction, and Jhonny groaned, his rhythm immediately punishing and deep.
"Fuck, this pussy's making soup," he groaned, his fingers digging bruisingly into Alex's hips as he pistoned into him. Each snap of his hips sloshed the warmth inside Alex, a constant, filthy reminder that pushed him closer to the edge. "You're just a hole, holmes. A dumping ground." Alex could only whimper, his own release building from a place of pure degradation, the musk of theAlex barely had time to register the chill of plastic against his skin before Jhonny pressed the bottle’s opening to him, the rim cold and unyielding. The first splash hit him like an electric shock, the liquid impossibly colder inside than out, making his muscles seize.
"Fuck—!" Alex gasped, the jockstrap muffling his cry as the stale piss flooded into him, thick and foreign, nothing like the hot, intimate streams he'd swallowed earlier. His hole clenched involuntarily, but Jhonny held the bottle steady, tipping it further, forcing more in.
"That’s it, take it all," Jhonny growled, watching the liquid slosh dark against his skin before vanishing inside. "My boys been saving up for you, puta." The second wave burned differently—stale, fermented, layered with the ghosts of strangers—and Alex shuddered, his thighs twitching as the cold spread through him.
Jhonny tossed the empty bottle aside, the plastic clattering against the van floor as he shoved two fingers back into Alex’s soaked hole, working the liquid deeper. "Damn, you’re sloppy now," he laughed, curling his fingers just to hear Alex choke on the jockstrap.
Alex’s vision swam, his body torn between revulsion and a sick, dizzying thrill—this wasn’t just Jhonny’s filth anymore, but a whole crew’s worth, forced into him like a baptism.
"Now," Jhonny panted, lining himself up again, his cock slick with spit and pre, "let’s see how you handle *real* punishment." He slammed back in, the stretch brutal now, the sloshing mess inside Alex making every thrust obscenely wet.
Alex’s scream was muffled, his fingers scrabbling at the mattress as Jhonny set a ruthless pace, the piss trapped inside him heating with friction, turning his insides into a filthy, churning mess.
"Feels good, huh?" Jhonny grunted, his hips pistoning, his own pleasure building as Alex writhed beneath him, reduced to nothing but a trembling, overfilled vessel. "Bet you could take this all night, you nasty-ass maricón." The bottle lay discarded, a silent witness, as Jhonny’s thrusts grew erratic, his grip on Alex’s hair tightening like a leash. The van rocked with their movement, the darkness swallowing every sound but their ragged breathing—one triumphant, the other broke
Jhonny’s rhythm shattered into hard, final lunges. “I’m— fuck— here it comes, puta!” he snarled, his body locking as he buried himself to the hilt.
A scalding flood erupted inside Alex, a huge, pulsing load of thick hot semen that spilled out around the edges of Jhonny’s cock, mixing with the mess already there. Alex cried out, his own breathing ragged as he felt the intense warmth spreading through him, a claiming that was more visceral than any piss.
Jhonny slumped forward, panting heavily against Alex’s back, his weight a suffocating blanket. The only sounds were their ragged breaths and the faint tick of the van’s cooling engine. After a long moment, Jhonny pulled out with a wet, dismissive sound.
He wiped himself off on Alex’s discarded shirt. “Hell yeah,” he muttered, zipping up his jeans like he’d just taken out the trash.
Alex stayed on his hands and knees, feeling the mess trickle down his thighs. He took a shaky breath, the degrading aftermath humming through his veins. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Jhonny’s satisfied, slumped form.
“Now eat it,” Alex said, his voice quiet but clear, cutting through the van’s thick air.
Jhonny froze. “The fuck you just say to me?”
“You heard me.” Alex pushed himself up slowly, his movements deliberate. “Get your mouth on my hole and clean it up. Feed me whatever you get out.”
“I ain’t doing that shit, you crazy-ass maricón!” Jhonny’s face twisted in disgust as he scrambled back against the van’s side door. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Do it,” Alex repeated, his tone flat, an order that brooked no argument. He didn’t move, just waited, presenting the filthy, used evidence of their encounter. “Or I walk out of here and everyone hears how a sureño enjoys fucking a joto. His own personal maricon”
Jhonny’s eyes widened, then narrowed into slits of pure hatred. “You’re a fucking psycho,” he spat, but the threat had landed. He swore again, a long, colorful stream of Spanish curses. “Fine. Turn the fuck around and don’t look at me.”
Alex complied, presenting himself. Jhonny hesitated for one more second, then, with a sound of pure revulsion, he leaned in.
He went to town on Alex’s hole, his tongue rough and reluctant at first, then becoming more deliberate as the taste of his own spend and the stale piss from his friends registered. He savored the filth, a low, conflicted groan escaping him as he licked and sucked, cleaning the mess he’d made.
Spit and fluid gathered in Jhonny’s mouth. He pulled back, gagging hard, his body convulsing. “Open your mouth, you nasty fuck,” he choked out.
Alex tilted his head back and parted his lips.
Jhonny leaned over him and spat the entire warm, slimy mixture of piss and cum directly into Alex’s waiting mouth. Alex swallowed it all in a single, smooth gulp, his eyes locked on Jhonny’s horrified face.