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There’s this camboy Satoru is locked in with.
Two years going strong in a parasocial relationship with a guy whose face he’s never seen is crazy work but this camboy is something special.
Twice a month Satoru happily hands over his hard earned allowance to Summer.
Summer is Satoru’s dream guy and that isn’t something he’s just saying because he likes to watch Summer deepthroat dildos and show hole on camera. He really thinks Summer is the one for him.
“Another donation from sixeyes69!” Summer announces with an appreciative whistle. “This next part is just for you!”
Satoru’s nose is nearly touching his laptop screen, acting as if he’ll be able to smell Summer if he sniffs hard enough. The special gift for his handsome donation is a sexy strip tease to a hypnotic English song.
Summer’s wearing a skimpy cheerleading costume that looks amazing on his muscular frame. His waist is small and he has a great ass…for a guy at least.
All the costumes he wears for his streams vary from masculine and feminine, and he wears every ensemble well as if they were specifically designed with him in mind.
Satoru has made some requests and Summer fulfills them every time. Because he pays extra for it, of course.
But still. They have a deep connection in his eyes.
It sounds more pathetic than it really is.
Satoru isn’t some loser, okay. He’s an attractive guy with a wealthy family and from that alone he’s gained popularity at his university. Doesn’t hurt that he’s the team captain of the basketball team.
Watching Summer stream games while semi-nude, talk about his day, and gag on Bad Dragon dildos is just a great way to pass the time. Satoru’s merely a healthy young man with a crush, not a perverted stalker who has tried to look at Summer’s background during streams for anything that could lead him to the camboy; there’s nothing that gives away Summer’s location in his background unfortunately.
Regardless, that isn’t the main point. The main point is, Gojo Satoru isn’t some lifeless incel. He could have anyone he wants without even trying.
“Do you like what you see?” Summer asks. He’s straddling his gaming chair, spreading his thighs open slowly, revealing the tattoo on the inside of his left thigh. It’s a snake curled around a dagger.
Satoru stares longingly at the screen, at the one thing he can’t have, and he can feel his throat tightening. This obsession is slowly starting to take over his life, but he refuses to be that much of a loser. He has some pride remaining.
He never jacks off during Summer’s streams. He’s not some pervert despite paying for lewd entertainment.
That isn’t to say Satoru doesn’t get off to Summer or jack off to him outside of the streams because he definitely does. In the past, he’s turned down dates so he wouldn’t miss the Friday night stream and his old situationship ended because he accidentally called out Summer’s name during sex because he was still wound up from a stream where Summer rode a dildo while dressed in a leather catsuit.
He knows good and well that his crush on Summer is an unhealthy obsession but he isn’t sure he wants to seek help for this affliction. He’s happy right where he’s at, allowing this beautiful man to drain his pockets dry.
Of course it would be better if he could have Summer in real life. But until he can find a way to buy him he’s content.
And how does Satoru know Summer is beautiful despite the various face masks he wears to conceal his identity? Call it intuition. He’s seen enough to know that Summer has an asymmetrical face, a sharp jawline, and naturally red-tinted lips. His smile is perfect; straight white teeth all accounted for, and his dark hair is long and glossy, falling well past his shoulders. He’s probably one of those muscular guys with a doll’s face.
“Thanks again, sixeyes69. I hope you enjoyed your gift!” Summer says, relaxing on his gaming chair fully nude with only a pair of Sanrio headphones on. “Now, who wants to see me annihilate some novices on Street Fighter 6?”
As always Summer selects Chun-Li and he spends half an hour beating the absolute crap out of anyone who matches with him online. Satoru, who is an avid Street Fighter fan, watches with apt interest, thinking about how he’d love to play this and other arcade games with Summer, and all the other innocent things they could do on a date.
Summer wraps up the stream by blowing a kiss and promising to see them all again in two weeks.
Satoru skims the chat, annoyed by the countless creeps who are clogging up Summer’s chat with last minute requests for him to bend over and spread his ass cheeks. One of the messages pisses him off so much that he uses his nefarious skills to doxx the asshole.
Before he goes to shower and ends his night fantasizing about Summer, he drains the guy’s bank account and anonymously sends Summer one last tip for the night.
That should cover the expense of Summer having to see such a disgusting comment.
“What in the fuck is he doing here?” Satoru asks.
It’s Monday evening and he just walked into the gym for basketball practice to see his archnemesis talking to their head coach. “Why is the captain of our rival team here?”
“You haven’t heard?” one of his teammates asks. “Geto Suguru has transferred to our school.”
What a shitty way to start his week, Satoru thinks, glaring at the one guy he cannot stand.
Since freshman year Satoru has hated Geto Suguru. Their schools have been rivals before either of them joined their respective teams, but their beef is more than that. Suguru is a total asshole who gets under Satoru’s skin in a way no one else can, and it’s been that way for two years. Now they’re starting their Junior year and that seems to be one thing that will never change.
Apparently Suguru, the model student, isn’t so perfect after all. He got into an altercation with his coach and resigned from his team over it. He’s such a great athlete despite that so other universities jumped at the chance to have him play for them.
For the first time during his induction to the team Satoru will have a Co-Captain. He’s never needed one and he doesn’t need one now but Suguru is too good to have any other team rank, and everyone knows Satoru isn’t going to hand over his captain title so easily.
Unfortunately, Satoru will have to confront Suguru after practice. Following a brief introduction their coach orders them to do warm up drills.
For some reason Suguru goes out of his way to act as if Satoru doesn’t exist. He isn’t outwardly dismissive because there’s a chain of command and Suguru respects the rules of the court. But he also isn’t making any efforts to interact with Satoru outside of what’s necessary.
When they were on opposite teams, Suguru would taunt Satoru during games, winking at him, flipping him off all while wearing a bright smile when no one else was looking, and obnoxiously stealing the ball from him at every turn as if he was teasing him. His foxy eyes and grin always irritated Satoru to no end because out of everyone they’ve played against, Geto Suguru was the only one who could throw Satoru off his game long enough to score a point.
Now Suguru is acting as if they’ve never had an exchange before.
That pisses Satoru off even more. Once their coach blows the whistle and dismisses them for the night, he hurriedly follows Suguru off the court. He needs the newbie to understand that in no way will he start calling the shots around here just because he was once a captain.
There’s only one team captain here.
“Let me tell you and your stupid bang something!” Satoru starts as soon as they’re alone in the locker room.
“I was wondering when your annoying ass would come,” Suguru says, snickering. He has one foot on the bench as he applies ointment to something on his inner thigh. “Don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me on your team. You were always flirting with me during rival matches, Gojo-san.”
That isn’t true!
Satoru may have gone out of his way a couple of times to tease Suguru’s hair or pretend his basketball skills sucked but he never flirted. If anything he was returning the energy Suguru was giving him.
“In your fucking dreams!” Satoru says, walking closer. “As if I’d ever be interested in an asshole like you!”
Pretty face and ripped body aside. Suguru has the worst personality ever, and Satoru can confidently say that despite their brief interactions with one another. They rarely run into each other outside of games because their universities are in different cities. He’s seen Suguru on Twitter here and there, popping off hit tweets because some idiots think he’s funny and charming; he’s not.
The guy is a modern day cult leader with the following he has. Satoru gained his followers for his looks, wealth, and basketball prowess while Suguru gained his from his personality alone.
“Then why are you always checking me out during games?” Suguru asks, smirking as he drops his hand away from the area on his thigh he was applying ointment to. “I know you’re a heterosexual but sometimes…I’m not so sure.” He laughs.
This guy is intentionally trying to tick Satoru off.
Little does he know Satoru has been bisexual ever since junior high.
Never mind that.
Now that Suguru’s hand isn’t blocking Satoru’s view he can see a detailed tattoo on his thigh. Whoever did the tattoo really knows their stuff. As someone who doesn’t usually care for tattoos he’s amazed by the artistry. The more he stares at the tattoo, however, his heart sinks into the pit of his stomach, realization weighing it down.
The tattoo is of a medieval-styled dagger with a snake coiled around it.
It’s the exact same as…
“Summer?”
Stiffening, Suguru’s smirk melts off his face as his amber pupils shrink. He looks as if he’s going to bolt out of the locker room at any moment. Nostrils flaring, he cuts his eyes at Satoru, looking like an injured, feral animal surrounded by other predators.
Satoru is too stunned to think about anything else. He slowly approaches, moving closer with a singular purpose.
“Are you really Summer?”
That tattoo is cemented into Satoru’s mind. He’s seen it more times than he’s seen his own mother as shameless as it is to admit. When Summer rides dildos, when Summer does his sexy strip teases or spreads his thighs for the camera, Satoru sees that tattoo.
He knows he isn’t mistaken.
“It’s really you,” Satoru steps closer, reaching out to touch the tattoo.
Suguru fists his hands in Satoru’s shirt and slams him against the locker roughly. “So what?” he asks, eyes murderous. “Are you going to try to blackmail me too, you perverted fuck!”
“Blackmail?”
Now it all makes sense.
No matter how Satoru felt about Suguru prior to learning of this secret he knew him to be respectful of his elders and well-mannered outside of his taunting. A model student wouldn’t fight with their coach without good reason.
“Your last coach was a subscriber?” Satoru frowns with disgust. “What a creep!”
Suguru raises a brow. “You’re one to talk!” He curses and lets Satoru go. “Fuck, I never thought this tattoo would blow my cover twice! I usually keep it bandaged...”
Satoru knows he doesn’t have much room to talk considering how much money and time he’s spent on Summer, and when he found out Suguru was his camboy he forgot all about their stupid rivalry because finally Summer is within his grasp.
But he’s a pervert with manners and some morals!
To think Suguru’s own coach was getting off to his content and when he discovered Summer was one of his players he propositioned him.
Teachers and coaches are held to a higher standard than Satoru who is the same age as Suguru and doesn’t have any real control over him. For those reasons, he’s exempt from the creep label.
At least that’s what he’ll tell himself.
“You don’t have to leave the school or the team,” Satoru quickly says. “I’m not going to blackmail you either. I have a different proposition that I think you’d be into.” He has to seize this opportunity. “Let me be your sole subscriber. I can pay double what you make in a month.”
The worst thing Suguru can say is no, but Satoru has no intention of accepting that for an answer without doing whatever he can to have his camboy all to himself.
Satoru’s offer is crazy.
It’s unhinged actually.
That’s what Suguru would think if he didn’t have his money-making cap on. He can either continue putting himself at risk of discovery by being a cam slut for thousands of faceless men or he can create a controlled environment, catering to a single pervert.
Still, he can’t eagerly accept this offer.
Broke as hell or not he isn’t going to blindly walk into an arrangement like this with someone who actually knows his full name. He would honestly die if his family ever found out about what he gets up to online, and Gojo Satoru is too well known for Suguru to feel comfortable rubbing shoulders with him.
Most of Suguru’s friend group consists of laid back, lowkey people. Eccentric appearances, yes, but they’re not Mr. Silver Spoon who has a modeling contract with the company that supplies uniforms to most sports teams in the country. He’s seen Satoru in too many ads to count.
Satoru is the opposite of laid back and lowkey. Nothing confirms that more than his high beam blue eyes and stark white hair.
“Do you even know how much I make a month?” Suguru asks, crossing his arms. “Saying you’ll double it is an easy promise when you’re only thinking with your dick.”
“I don’t need to know how much you make a month to know I can afford it.”
Undoubtedly he can afford it. Suguru doesn’t honestly think Satoru can’t afford it; he’s just stalling. His day was already going bad and now this happens.
He can see Satoru is dead serious. He never would’ve thought the obnoxious guy from the rival team was one of his subscribers.
Honestly, he genuinely thought Satoru was straight.
“Why in the hell are you gay?” Suguru asks, annoyed.
Satoru splutters in surprise. “Huh?!” He scratches the back of his neck, snorting. “First off, I’m Bi. Second off, I was born this way, I guess? Why are you surprised?”
“Why wouldn’t I be surprised? Your Twitter is egregious.”
“So, you lurk my Twitter?” Satoru smirks, reminding Suguru why he initially disliked him the moment they met years ago.
Gojo Satoru is too arrogant.
“What’s your username on the cam site?” he asks, changing the topic since it doesn’t really matter. “I need to make sure you’re not one of the gross pervs who's subscribed to me.”
“Sixeyes69.”
Suguru frowns at the ‘69’ tagline but then he remembers what he does as a side hustle. Without freaks like this he wouldn’t be able to pay his tuition.
The username is familiar but only because he keeps up with the big spenders and Satoru is the biggest. It’s worth noting that sixeyes69 has never left him any upsetting comments either. That’s reassuring.
Satoru takes out his phone, quickly unlocking it and opening an app. “This is my monthly allowance.” He shows the screen. "Then there’s the money I make from modeling.”
Eyes widening, Suguru looks from the screen to Satoru’s smug face. This guy is seriously loaded. He’s almost tempted to tell him no just to humble his ass but he loves milking cash cows.
“We’ll do a test run,” Suguru says, sighing. He needs the money. “Give me your number. I’ll send you a link to the private stream. I’m cancelling my next stream for you so don’t piss me off!”
“Can I make one request?” Satoru asks.
“You just got here. Entitled much?” Suguru sighs. He remembers that stacked bank account and swallows his pride. “Fine. What dildo do you want me to shove up my ass?”
“Whatever stream you do for me, can you say my name?” Satoru asks.
Surprised by the innocent request, Suguru asks, “sixeyes69?”
Satoru chuckles, stepping closer, lowering his voice. “No. Call me Satoru.” He has Suguru’s back pressed against the lockers and their chests are touching. The ten centimeter height difference feels wider than that. “I’ll throw in more money just to hear you moan it.”
Before Suguru can even think of a response two of their teammates can be heard talking as they enter the locker room.
Quickly, Suguru shoves Satoru away and puts distance between them, avoiding the eyes that are burning his skin with their intensity. He’s so anxious after what went down with his old coach that he hurriedly packs his duffle bag and leaves without acknowledging Satoru or anyone else.
Later that night he gets a message request on Twitter from _thehonered1.
Satoru sends his number since he didn’t get a chance to share it earlier. Suguru is going to save it and go on about his business, intending to avoid Satoru until it’s time for his bi-monthly stream, but against his better judgment he texts Satoru to let him know he has his number saved.
He thinks that’ll be the end of it but while he’s on Facetime with his best friend Manami, Satoru texts back.
“Is that Miguel? Has he decided on a day for us to visit him in New York?” Manami asks when she hears the alert on her end.
“No. It’s one of my new teammates.”
She goes back to scrolling on her phone.
They’ve been sitting in silence for about twenty minutes while going through their night routine. Suguru reads Satoru’s message. He has his name saved as his jersey number.
[Five:] Would you strangle me if I asked you to stream tomorrow night?
“Impatient asshole,” Suguru mutters.
“Hm?” Manami asks.
“Nothing. I’m going to call my teammate real fast. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Text me.”
Ending the Facetime, Suguru calls Satoru.
Two rings later a deep voice speaks through the receiver, leaving Suguru momentarily speechless.
Why is this guy’s phone voice like this? In person it seems like his voice is high-pitched and grating. It’s not really. Suguru just made it that way in his head whenever he would come across Satoru’s tweets.
“Let me tell you something,” Suguru starts, focusing on what matters more than a gravelly voice that tickles his brain in a good way, “you’re not in a position to demand anything of me!”
“I didn’t demand anything. I only asked a question.”
Okay, he’s not wrong. But the question itself is rude, no?
If nothing else, it seems entitled for Satoru to think he can even suggest that Suguru abandons his previous plans of streaming every two weeks. Even though they’ve entered into a special arrangement he doesn’t like straying from his schedules. It helps him keep a balance between his life and his online persona.
“Why are you so eager for me to stream anyway? Am I to believe that the Gojo Satoru can’t go out and find a hookup in the meantime?”
“I don’t want some hookup,” Satoru says, and it sounds like he just lay down. “I want to watch Summer.”
Suguru scowls. “Do I look like I care about what you want?”
“Hm. I can’t tell right now. It’s not like we can see each other.”
“Don’t get smart with me!”
Satoru laughs, and the deepness of it sends an echo through the phone that makes Suguru’s stomach do a weird somersault. He’s startled when his phone starts vibrating. Looking at the screen he sees that Satoru is trying to Facetime him.
“Let me see for myself if you look like you care or not.”
Suguru accepts the video call with every intention of giving Satoru the meanest glare he can muster but when the call connects and Satoru’s face comes into view he loses a portion of his annoyance.
Satoru is shirtless while wearing a gold face mask.
“You look like you care a little,” Satoru says, grinning like a doofus. He obviously thinks he’s funnier than he is.
“What are you doing?” Suguru asks. “Is this what you get up to every night?”
“My face felt a little dry. My friend Shoko said I needed this so I’m giving it a try. I don’t think this shit actually works though.”
That is oddly endearing of Satoru to try this because his friend suggested it. Suguru doesn’t tell him that. He called Satoru to tell him to know his place. If he annoys Suguru too much he won’t get any jerk off material.
Before he can return to his main point, Satoru is speaking again. “You said we could do a test run. Wouldn’t it make sense for you to give it a go before your scheduled stream just in case the arrangement doesn’t go well?”
Suguru knows Satoru is trying to persuade him to do what he wants while acting as if his suggestion is meant to have only Suguru’s best interest in mind. Satoru isn’t even trying to hide it. Regardless, he makes a very good point. If this whole thing turns out to be a waste of time Suguru can still depend on his stream to pull in money for this month. Alternatively if the arrangement with Satoru goes well he can still have his stream and rake in more money.
“Will you not pay me for my time either way?” Suguru asks. He’s laying on his back in bed, holding the phone above his face.
Satoru is very obviously staring at Suguru instead of himself the way most people do on Facetime. He’s also handling all of this well. His rival is actually the camboy he gets off to. Shouldn’t Satoru be grossed out? Instead he’s looking at Suguru as if he wants more than a private stream.
“I’ll pay you half of the agreed amount for your time. I’m a gentleman.”
“A gentleman wouldn’t make this offer at all.” Suguru points out. “I’ll think about it. Goodbye.”
“Wait! Can I ask you something?”
Suguru wants to end this call already. He doesn’t like that he’s enjoying Satoru’s voice this much. But curiosity gets the better of him.
“What?”
Satoru hesitates as if he’s trying to find the best way to word his question. This guy is known for his lack of filter, but he’s being cautious now. Suguru can already tell where this is going.
“Were you able to ban your coach’s IP address?”
“I blocked him from the site.”
Saturday morning before a scrimmage his old coach cornered him in the gym and revealed himself as a long time subscriber. He confessed to Suguru and even said he would leave his wife and kids for him.
When he showed Suguru all the times he donated and left comments, Suguru felt sick to his stomach because his own coach was one of his gross followers, the ones who openly fantasized about raping him.
Thanks to his connections Suguru was able to get a swift transfer approved. There’s still paperwork to deal with since it happened over the weekend but he doesn’t have to see that creep again.
“How do you know he won’t make a new account?” Satoru asks. “Without his IP being blocked he can still come back...”
Stiffening, Suguru considers Satoru’s words.
Obviously he knows that. He knows how this works. It’s just that life has been hectic the past few days, sohe immediately blocked his coach’s account and thought that would be enough.
With the threat of losing his job, his coach is less likely to pursue the matter further. But who is to say he’ll instantly lose his interest? He can very easily create a new account and tune in to Suguru’s streams without him knowing a thing.
“That’s my problem, not yours,” Suguru says, masking how afraid he actually is. “We can do the test stream tomorrow. But the first time you get weird I’m done.”
He hangs up after that.
Cursing, he covers his face with his hands. If it’s not one thing it’s another. Hopefully things go well with Satoru and he can make enough to take a break for a while.
At the same time as his usual streams, Suguru texts Satoru a link.
Satoru sets everything up on his laptop and waits for the five minute countdown to dwindle. He’s been waiting for this since last night. Another five minutes shouldn’t be an issue but he’s too impatient.
Practice was a nightmare because several times Satoru was almost hit in the face with the ball because he was too busy checking Suguru out. He’s been a dumbass this entire time. Suguru and Summer are obviously the same person. Now that his eyesight isn’t blinded by a pointless rivalry, Satoru can vividly see how hot Suguru is. He’s seductive too with the way he smiles and teases.
At one point during practice, Suguru lifted his shirt to wipe sweat from his brow, and Satoru wanted to drag him off the court and fuck him in the locker room. Then right after that one of their teammates slapped Suguru’s ass after he scored a point for their team.
Shortly after, Satoru kicked that same teammate off the court and brought one of the freshmen in to take his place for the remainder of the practice match because he was jealous. He doesn’t like to share his things. Blame it on him being an only child.
Luckily, no one noticed.
Once the screen changes from the colorful countdown screen to an empty bedroom Satoru has never seen before, he stops thinking about that. He’s locked in, waiting for the star of his private show to make an appearance.
“Sorry for the wait,” Suguru says, walking into the camera’s view in a cropped band t-shirt and jogging shorts that barely cover his ass. “I just got out of basketball practice. I’m wiped…”
This is how some of Summer’s usual streams go. He starts out casually, discussing his day as he slowly undresses or strokes his cock for the camera.
However, this is different because he never talks about basketball practice. In fact, Satoru is one thousand percent sure that Suguru never actually shared things about his day on past streams. It was all fabricated.
But now he’s allowing his real life to bleed in, making Satoru wonder if this is anything significant or if Suguru is just messing with his head.
“I think the team captain has a thing for me,” Suguru says, smiling and biting his lip. “I don’t mean to sound arrogant or anything but you should’ve seen how he was acting during practice…” He rubs his thighs, spreading them and closing them, repeating the action with languid movements as he continues his story. “He kept staring at me like he wanted me…”
That’s because Satoru does want him. That shouldn’t be surprising. He's dropping a lot of money on him and he can’t even touch him.
“It’s not like I mind it or anything,” Suguru says, pinching his nipples through his shirt and closing his eyes, gasping. “He’s a pretty big guy…big, veiny hands…big, strong shoulders…” Dropping his hands, he does a false pout. “I wonder if his dick is as big as it looks.”
Suguru picks up a massive, pink dildo, holding it up for the camera. It’s new. Or at least it’s one that Satoru has never seen before. His eyes lower when Suguru kisses the fat head while he stares into the camera.
“I bet it’s big like this,” Suguru says, kissing the dildo again. “I’m not an expert or anything…”
He hasn’t removed any clothing or said anything overtly sexy but Satoru is half hard. This is already better than any other stream. There aren’t any annoying ass interlopers, invading his time with his Summer. He has Summer all to himself and by default that makes this a whole lot better.
“…since I’m a virgin and all…”
Satoru’s eyes bulge.
Suguru’s a virgin?!
“Surprised?” Suguru asks as if he can see Satoru’s reaction. Placing the dildo on the desk, he strokes it with both hands, gently sucking the head, maintaining that eye contact with his sole viewer. “I get all slutty for the camera but the truth is I’ve never gone all the way.”
That could be a lie. But what does Suguru have to gain from lying about that? No one else is on the stream. Satoru doesn’t need any more reason to be obsessed with him so it’s not like that’s Suguru’s angle.
“It’s too big,” Suguru says, sounding the way Satoru imagines ukes in yaoi mangas would. He’s putting on this act too well with this tone and facial expressions. “I'll do my best for you, Team Captain.”
Satoru’s cock is straining against his sweatpants but he ignores it. He won’t jack off until the stream is over.
Suguru grips the base of the dildo tightly and bobs his head on it, gagging and drooling, moaning and whimpering as if he was sucking the real thing.
His face is red and his hair is damp with sweat. When he opens his eyes they’re glazed over and out of focus as if he’s inebriated; drunk on cock. He’s sucked on dildos before but never for this long, never in a way that suggests he gets off from it. But now he’s acting like a real cock slut.
“Damn,” Suguru says, popping off the dildo. His lips are swollen and red, glistening with spit. “I’m so turned on.” Standing up, he shows off the tent in his shorts. “Can I tell you a secret?” He smiles before turning around and kneeling on the chair.
Ass facing the camera, Suguru peels his shorts off, showing his smooth, plump ass. For someone with a muscular body his ass is round and juicy with slight toneness. It looks as soft as a cloud. Satoru wants to bury his face in it. He leans close to the screen as if he can actually make that happen.
“My ass gets so wet when I’m turned on,” Suguru says, spreading one ass cheek open to flash his hole at the camera. “It’s like a pussy.” He laughs bashfully as if he’s too shy to say a word like that. As if. “What could that mean? Do you know why it gets so wet?”
“Because you’re a slut,” Satoru says, smiling. “You’re a virgin slut.”
Grabbing the dildo, Suguru puts a deeper arch in his back and spreads one cheek again, rubbing the dildo over his visibly tight hole.
There’s no way that dildo is going in there. It’s bigger than the ones Suguru usually uses, and to Satoru’s knowledge Suguru hasn’t prepped for it. But Suguru tries his hardest to make the dildo fit. His struggling is so hot because he’s whining and looking over his shoulder at the camera with furrowed brows, frustrated by his own tightness.
“Maybe if I try it this way…”
Suguru moves the chair back and plants the dildo on the floor. The suction part keeps it rooted in place. Satoru worries he won’t get to see everything but this is Summer. His favorite camboy; his only camboy. He always puts on a great show.
“Let’s try again,” Suguru says, adjusting the webcam so that it shows Satoru a perfect view.
Suguru puts a small amount of lube on the dildo.
“You’ll need more than that,” Satoru says, squeezing his hard on without even realizing where his hand is. “Get more lube.”
It’s not like Suguru can hear him. If he could he probably would continue to stubbornly try to make the dildo fit despite his low efforts. He squats down, thigh spread, and stands on the tip of his toes as he sinks down on the dildo. The tip is barely in and Suguru is touching his knees and panting.
“Satoru…I can’t…” he whimpers, tears rolling down his red face. “You’re too big for me!”
Satoru shoves his hand into his pants and starts stroking his cock. “You can do it, baby…keep trying…” He groans, watching Suguru struggle to ride the dildo.
As if spurred on by Satoru’s motivating words, Suguru keeps trying. He starts a shallow bounce on the dildo, taking it an inch at a time. His pretty, hard cock hits his stomach with every movement, uselessly leaking cum. His body has a sheen of sweat on it, making his skin glow under the fluorescent light. Moaning Satoru’s name, Suguru pinches one of his nipples.
Without both hands supporting him, he nearly falls over but he maintains his balance like a good boy.
Satoru mentally praises him, stroking his cock in time with Suguru’s pace, pretending it’s his cock that’s inside of him, not the dildo.
It’s easy to believe that, so easy to close his eyes and pretend his pretty camboy is struggling to shove his cock inside of his virgin hole. He can feel that vice grip squeezing his cock, can feel those walls hugging his length.
“Satoru, I want to cum!”
“Cum, baby,” Satoru opens his eyes because he can’t miss this. He strokes himself faster. “Cum for me.”
Suguru slams himself on the dildo, crying out from the addictive mix of pain and pleasure.
His cock twitches as it spills all over his thighs and stomach, some of it even ends up on the floor. He pulls himself off the dildo, and Satoru thinks that’s it. He thinks he’ll finish after the stream ends, that even though he finally jacked off that he still can’t get off to this. But Suguru faces the camera, bends over, and shows off his ruined hole. His insides are red, spongy, and wet.
Satoru comes so hard he passes out. His ears are ringing and his head is pounding when he wakes up to a black laptop screen and a text from Suguru telling him to pay up.
His limp dick is still hanging out of his sweats as he wires the promised amount plus a huge tip to Suguru. He wants to rip his hair out when Suguru only hearts his confirmation message.
Transaction complete.
Satoru isn’t satisfied. He has to get his hands on Suguru. He has to have him all to himself.
Two months of expenses are covered in one night thanks to Satoru. It took Suguru nearly an hour to pick his jaw up off the floor after that transfer hit.
Honestly, he didn’t think this arrangement would be worth his time. He assumed Satoru would take full advantage of the private stream and make a lot of weird requests, making sure Suguru worked for every yen, but he only wanted Suguru to moan his name.
That was something Suguru had never done on a stream.
People would beg him to say whatever name they plugged into the chat but he would only address them as their username. It was his way of setting boundaries.
Moaning Satoru’s name gave Suguru a crazy rush. He went completely off script during that stream, too.
The plan had been to do a strip tease and play around with toys. Instead, he did a story time, mixing facts with a smidge of fiction, and he pretended he was fucking Satoru. None of that was an act. The realism is what made it one of his best streams ever.
Suguru is a virgin slut, his ass does get wet when he’s aroused, and he doesn’t mind the way Satoru stares at him during practice. He also thinks Satoru has a big dick. There’s just something about guys his height. However, he doesn’t plan on ever revealing any of that to Satoru.
Soon, they plan another stream.
Satoru doesn’t make any more requests outside of the one. He wants Suguru to moan his name. Suguru keeps his content simple. Instead of some grand costume or following a script he keeps it casual and rooted in realism just like the first stream.
“I’ve never tried these before,” Suguru is saying as he holds up blue anal beads. “These remind me of your eyes so I bought them.” He smiles at the camera, spreading his bare thighs open.
When the stream started he was already naked. He’s been posing in ways that keep his nipples and cock shielded from his viewer’s gaze but now he’s showing everything. Getting up from his chair, he casually paces the floor, swinging the beads and biting his lower lip as he contemplates the best way to go about this. He can try to balance himself on the chair or he can bend over on the floor and show Satoru the entire process.
The anal beads may be new territory for Suguru but he’s watched enough videos to know how to use them. Normally he prefers to present himself as an expert during his streams. With Satoru as the only viewer he feels less inclined to keep up with a persona.
He doesn’t know why that is.
Maybe he thinks Satoru would be into this amateur shit or maybe he feels comfortable with Satoru despite Satoru being the exact kind of person he wouldn’t want to know about his side hustle. Who knows.
Suguru decides to lay on a towel that’s already on the floor. He bends over, cock tucked between his thighs so that the only thing Satoru can see is his round ass, muscular thighs, and a glimpse of his virgin hole. He wonders if Satoru is into the fact that he’s never been fucked by anyone before even though he does all of these kinky things for countless people online.
“I think I can only fit three in,” Suguru says, lightly tugging on the silicone handle. Three, small beads are shoved up his ass with seven more to go. “Should I keep trying?” He wiggles his ass.
More than likely Satoru wants him to keep trying so Suguru adds another bead and then another, stuffing them in as far as they can go. The moment those beads graze his prostate, Suguru twitches and a couple of the beads pop out of his ass, making him moan Satoru’s name loudly. He’s happy his face is hidden because he’s drooling from how amazing it feels.
Losing himself in the pleasure he forgets about his audience engagement. One of the most important parts of building a following is how well he engages with his viewers. He’s supposed to talk them through it and convince them that they have an actual say in how he conducts his streams. Suguru couldn’t care less about that right now. He wishes he could’ve tried these anal beads out sooner.
He really did buy them because they reminded him of Satoru’s eyes.
“I…I’m so stuffed,” Suguru whimpers, body quivering as he tries not to collapse on the floor. Through tireless efforts he’s managed to fit every bead in his ass aside from the final one. “S…Satoru, I don’t think I can fit any more of it.” A shiver ripples through his body, making his cock twitch.
He’s painfully hard with a sloppy wet tip that’s leaking on his thighs making them sticky. His hair and body is covered in sweat and adorned by a pretty, pink flush reminiscent of a peach skin.
What is Satoru thinking right now? Suguru wishes there wasn’t a camera between them. He wishes Satoru was here with him.
The thought is the product of arousal. Suguru’s so turned on right now that if Satoru walked into his bedroom and replaced the anal beads with his cock he would happily allow it.
“I’ll try for you,” Suguru says, moaning because every time he so much as breathes, the beads apply pressure to his prostate. “I’ll try to make it fit for you, Satoru…”
Bracing himself, Suguru tries to make the last bead fit. There’s so much pressure in his stomach and it feels as if he’ll explode if he breathes the wrong way. He’s scared but excited at the same time. It would be easier if someone was here helping him.
The moment he thinks that, he closes his eyes and imagines Satoru is there, kissing his back, whispering encouraging words to him as he presses the final bead in….
The force of Suguru’s orgasm pushes every last bead out of him. One by one they pop out and the sensation is torture for Suguru’s overstimulated body. He can’t make sense of what he’s saying but he catches broken glimpses of Satoru’s name. His ears are pounding so it sounds as if he’s underwater and his voice is coming from right above the surface.
Suguru doesn’t even have the strength or mental capacity to get up and end the stream right now. He lays there on the towel, back facing the camera, cured up, whimpering quietly as the final waves of ecstasy roll over him. Times like this he wishes he had a partner to help with aftercare.
Satoru is still on his mind even though post-nut clarity should be in full effect by now.
“Satoru…Satoru…” Suguru’s eyes grow heavy. “Take care of me…” He’s whispering so he doubts his plea is heard.
The energy is zapped from his body, putting him in a mini-coma for an unspecified amount of time.
When he wakes, cold with dried semen on his skin, he grimaces. He gets up, expecting the stream to be over since it’s set up to close when there’s no viewers. To his surprise, Satoru is still there. Before Suguru can ask why that is, Satoru sends a message in the chat.
sixeyes69: I wanted to make sure you were good.
Suguru snorts. “Well, aren’t you considerate?” He plans to leave it there but instead he sits down. “I’m fine. Those beads don’t look like it but they’re deadly. You should try them out.” He jokes.
sixeyes69: I’d rather watch you use them.
“I don’t know if I’ll use them again anytime soon.” Not unless someone helps him. “Any requests for my next stream?”
sixeyes69: Just keep moaning my name.
“Why do you like that so much?”
And why does Suguru care? A person’s kinks, no matter how strange to him, is what keeps him paid. He isn’t trying to judge Satoru or anything. It’s just that out of all of the things he’s done on stream and is willing to do on stream, Satoru chose the mildest one.
Then again, is it mild? Moaning someone’s given name is intimate, it’s familiar. Somehow it’s more scandalous than deep throating a dildo for thousands of viewers because Satoru isn’t his boyfriend. He isn’t even his friend.
sixeyes69: Because it makes me think you’re all mine.
Speechless, Suguru stares at the message in disbelief.
Is that what Satoru really wants or is that part of whatever fantasy he’s concocted? In what way does he want Suguru to be his? Does he want him as a fuck toy or does he want to own him in every sense? Most importantly, why isn’t Suguru annoyed or even remotely offended?
“Whatever floats your boat, I guess,” Suguru says, shrugging, doing a piss poor job at acting unbothered. “Well, I need to go shower. Bye.” He ends the stream with that dry ass send off.
“Bye,” he whispers to himself. “Bye. That definitely sounded awkward.” He groans.
So much for trying not to seem bothered.
During practice the following day, Suguru feels like an ant under a mean kid’s magnifying glass, burning from the intensity of a scalding gaze. At every turn, Satoru is there, openly checking him out.
The difference between having someone with blue eyes stare at you versus having someone with brown or black eyes stare at you is jarring. It’s like being on a dark road and then some asshole with LED headlights pops up.
Suguru can feel Satoru watching him even during the times when Satoru is too busy dribbling the ball up the court to spare him a glance. Even when those blue eyes aren’t on him he can still feel them. He gets so annoyed at one point that he lifts his shirt, pretending to wipe sweat from his brow, and he flashes his nipple.
Satoru’s eyes widen a fraction, bringing a smug smile to Suguru’s face.
Big mistake.
After practice, Suguru is the first person to head to the locker rooms. Of course, Satoru is the second. He doesn’t even try to mask the sound of his steps.
As soon as they cross that threshold, Satoru grabs the back of Suguru’s neck and shoves him into the nearest locker. He pushes his knee between Suguru’s thighs to spread them open, pressing up against his groin as his larger body keeps him pinned in place.
“What the fuck—”
“Shut up,” Satoru sighs, sniffing Suguru’s hair. “You’ve been begging for this.”
Suguru closes his eyes and licks his lips. Good thing Satoru can’t see this reaction. “You’re delusional!” He pushes himself off the locker hard enough to break out of Satoru’s clutches. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
Hearing their other teammates approaching, Satoru grabs Suguru’s wrist and drags him into the storage closet where extra uniforms and equipment are stored. Satoru tosses Suguru in and Suguru loses his footing. He falls to his knees.
The door is quietly closed to not draw any attention. Leaning on the door, Satoru reaches back to lock it. It’s dark inside the closet with small lines of light filtering through the door. They can see each other’s faces and their white practice uniforms but that’s it.
Suguru can fight Satoru and make enough noise to draw everyone over to the closet. Instead he sits there quietly, doing nothing to stop Satoru from cupping his chin and caressing his cheek with his thumb. When Satoru leans down, Suguru expects a kiss. He doesn’t get one, and he doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved.
“How much will it cost me?” Satoru asks, rubbing over Suguru’s lips, pushing them open to slide the tip of it in.
“More than your monthly allowance,” Suguru seethes. His tongue touches Satoru’s thumb and he has to stop himself from sucking on it to figure out what that taste is. “Are you willing to go broke for me…Satoru?”
Satoru shoves his entire thumb into Suguru’s hot mouth, easing it in and out. “I’ll pay off whatever debt you’re dealing with if I can be your first and your only.”
The last part is unexpected.
Then again, this is on brand for a rich kid who buys whatever he wants without thought. Suguru does have a debt to clear as well as typical everyday expenses. If all he has to do is let a guy he’s attracted to fuck him then it should be a breeze. The thing is, Suguru hates the idea of Satoru thinking he owns him. He wants to fuck Satoru. There. He admitted it. But he isn’t sure if he wants it to go any further than that.
Suguru pulls off Satoru’s thumb, lips tingling. “You can pay for my virginity but you’ll never have enough to own me.”
“We’ll see,” Satoru says, and that’s enough for Suguru to know that he isn’t going to let it go until he has what he wants. “Suck.” He’s holding the base of his cock with his free hand while the other is still cupping Suguru’s face. “I’ve been daydreaming about these pretty lips.”
“Then kiss me first.”
Suguru meant that sarcastically.
So, he’s surprised when Satoru leans down and kisses him. He kisses like it’s something they do all the time. No hesitation, no waiting for Suguru’s mouth to part and let him in. Satoru starts the kiss with tongue and then he brings his lips into the fold. Suguru gets into it without realizing how he’s tugging on Satoru’s shirt and gasping. This asshole being a good kisser is too unfair.
Kissing is one of Suguru’s favorite acts of intimacy. A good kisser is someone who can sweep Suguru off his feet. His eyes are still closed and he’s still mimicking the kiss when Satoru’s fat cock enters his mouth.
Eyes flashing open, Suguru looks up at Satoru’s smiling face with a glare that looks silly while this third leg is working his mouth open. He wasn’t joking when he said he felt like Satoru had a big dick. It’s all in the way he walks and talks on the court.
Luckily, Suguru isn’t inexperienced despite holding his V card closely up until this point. He widens his mouth to accommodate Satoru’s size and takes more into his mouth without any prompting. Once he starts bobbing his head and working his neck, moaning around the length, Satoru lets out a low groan.
He tastes good, Suguru thinks, staring up at Satoru, watching his face twist in a mask of pleasure. After all of that running around during practice Satoru naturally worked up a sweat. But he’s hygienic so there isn’t a stench or foul taste yet.
There’s still faint touches of soap on his skin mixed with Satoru’s natural taste, leaving Suguru with a light head and an uncomfortable tightness in his shorts.
Satoru reaches down, lifting Suguru’s shirt so he can pinch his nipples. “You have the prettiest nipples,” he groans, keeping his voice down. “The prettiest lips…prettiest skin…”
This is nothing no one has told him before but there’s an almost reverent quality to the way Satoru speaks to him.
Suguru takes Satoru’s cock deeper, using the praise as a motivator. It’s not as if he knows one. Sucking Satoru off is getting him off more than any of the times he’s played with himself for strangers.
Hearing the closet door rattle, Suguru stiffens. One of their teammates can be heard outside the door. He’s asking for a key.
Instead of hurriedly putting an end to their semi-public rendezvous, Satoru cups Suguru’s head with both hands and shoves his cock in so deeply that Suguru can feel his pubic hairs tickling his nose. Staring up at Satoru with watery eyes, he sees how insanely possessive he looks as he fucks his mouth. Suguru touches Satoru’s wrists, not to stop him, but to give himself an anchor while his throat is abused.
“Coach has the key, I think!” one teammate says.
Satoru smiles, and Suguru can’t make any sense of it until another person chimes in.
“No, Captain Gojo has the keys. I think he left already.”
Now, Suguru understands. He relaxes, no longer fearing discovery. He palms Satoru’s balls, watching how that smile melts off his face as he bites his lips to muffle a moan. Satoru eases his cock out of Suguru’s throat before shoving it back in, picking up the pace. Suguru can feel his balls tightening against his palm. He braces him.
But Satoru abruptly stops, delaying his own orgasm. He grabs Suguru and bends him over, helping him out of his shirt and kissing his shoulder and his chin.
“Whatever it costs, I’ll pay it.” Satoru shoves the sleeve of Suguru’s own shirt into his mouth to muffle him and then he kneels behind him. He rubs his cockhead against Suguru’s wet hole, sighing. “You’re so wet. You’ve been wanting this just as much as me…”
Suguru can’t deny that. He isn’t given a chance to say anything either way. Biting around the shirt, his eyes water as Satoru fucks him in that supply closet while their teammates are on the other side of the door, laughing and goofing around like any other day after a long practice.
For all of his impatience and roughness earlier, Satoru is a considerate lover.
Yeah he’s gripping Suguru’s hips like he doesn’t want him to slip away and he’s pounding his tight ass as if he’s trying to carve out a special place for himself in his guts. But in between all of that, he praises Suguru, leaves kisses on his sweaty spine, and makes him come untouched. He fucks Suguru so well that Suguru almost forgets he’s getting paid for this.
Dick that can make him forget about money is a dangerous thing.
“Hug my neck, baby,” Satoru urges, slamming into Suguru.
The locker room cleared out half an hour ago and the janitor just left. Satoru is sitting with his back against the door and Suguru is straddling him. The sun is beginning to set so the little bit of light they had in the closet is now gone. They can’t see each other yet they can easily find each other’s lips. Suguru can’t remember how many times he’s orgasmed. Satoru has done it twice and he doesn’t seem satisfied yet.
Suguru is so out of it that he doesn’t mind being called baby and he kisses Satoru without thought. They mesh well together. Having sexual chemistry with someone isn’t something to pass up on but Suguru knows things will get messy fast if he gets involved with a teammate.
“Let’s go shower,” Satoru says after fucking Suguru through another orgasm and reaching his own climax.
They walk to the shower together. Suguru thinks they’ll shower separately but Satoru stands behind him and reaches forward to turn the water on.
He doesn’t say anything when Satoru kisses his shoulder or when Satoru starts washing his back because he’s processing everything. But when Satoru starts talking about them grabbing dinner together after this and Suguru staying over at his place he has to put his foot down.
Turning around, Suguru shoves Satoru away. “Pay up,” he says, hoping his bad attitude will push Satoru away. “After that, our business is over. No more private streams or whatever this was.”
“Why?”
“Because we both got what we wanted.”
“I didn’t get what I wanted,” Satoru says, frowning. “So, it’s not over.”
Suguru smirks. “You’ve had your private shows and you took my virginity. What more is there?” He doesn’t expect an answer nor does he want one. “I’ll let you know how much my debt is.”
“Our business is far from over. The one thing I want is you.” Satoru grabs Suguru’s chin, his touch firm with hints of gentleness. “If I have to pay your debt and your tuition or blackmail you— I don’t care as long as you’re mine when it’s all said and done.”
This guy is crazier than Suguru previously assumed. “What in the hell do you mean? You want me? You just had me.”
“I want you to be my boyfriend. Stop making this difficult.” Satoru lets Suguru’s chin go. “You can’t stream anymore because your old coach will definitely just make a new account to see your streams. Even if I pay off your debt, you’ll still need money. You liked having sex with me. What more reason do you need?”
Suguru knows he can’t stream anymore. He knows that having a debt cleared may be a huge relief but as long as he’s alive he’ll have expenses to cover. Most of all, he does enjoy having sex with Satoru and the few times they actually had a conversation. It doesn’t hurt that Satoru is hot and thinks so highly of him.
“I don’t even know you that well,” Suguru says. It’s such a lame response that he sighs and steps back under the water, wetting his hair.
Neither of them speak for several minutes. Then Suguru tells Satoru that he would prefer it if they stayed at his place tonight instead.
Satoru hugs Suguru’s waist and hoists him up. “That’s fine with me, Suguru!” His happiness is palpable; it’s addictive. “We can play Street Fighter together! Oh, do you like Mario Kart too…”
Suguru smiles. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.