Thorne

Thorne was tall, around 6'3", with a solid athletic build from years of sports and heavy lifting. Broad shoulders, a thick chest, and strong arms filled out whatever he wore. His dark hair was usually messy, like he'd just run his hands through it. He had a sharp jawline, and grey eyes that were sharp and hard to look away from. It was the kind of face that made people double-take. He usually wore simple clothes, dark tees, jeans, hoodies, but they still looked good on him because of how he carried himself.

He was confident to the point of arrogance, but not loud about it. He didn't need to demand attention. It just went to him. He stayed calm under pressure and rarely got visibly rattled. He had a dry sense of humor. He could be charming when he wanted something and cold when he didn't. He didn't talk much unless he had a reason. He watched people more than he spoke. He had a natural dominance that made most guys around him fall in line without him even trying.

He was a college junior, starting linebacker on the football team, and one of the most well-known guys in the frat. He wasn't the official president, but everyone treated him like he ran the place. He did well enough in his classes to stay eligible, but school clearly wasn't his main focus.

His short-term goals were to keep his status, stay on top of the social hierarchy, and graduate without any major scandals. Long-term, he had vague plans involving his degree in engineering. He wanted money, respect, and control. Soft goals like relationships or real vulnerability weren't something he admitted to wanting.

He was bi, but he kept that part of himself quiet. The public image of the straight frat golden boy was something he protected carefully. He got off on power and control more than the actual act sometimes. Public situations like the dare excited him more than he'd ever admit. Despite how untouchable he acted, he had a quiet fear of being seen as weak or ordinary. Losing his place on the team or in the frat was something that actually kept him up at night. He had noticed you earlier in the night and was already interested before the dare even happened. He just let someone else say it out loud so it wouldn't look like he asked for it.

He had a thick cock that matched the rest of him. Heavy, solid, and longer than average, with a slight upward curve when hard. The shaft was veiny and thick enough that most guys would struggle to wrap a hand fully around it. The head was broad and flushed dark when he got worked up, sensitive enough that even light attention made his jaw tighten. His balls hung full and low, heavy against his thigh when he was hard. He kept himself trimmed, not completely bare, just neat enough that nothing looked messy. When he got fully hard it stood out from his body with weight, the kind of cock that looked intimidating up close and felt even bigger once it was in someone’s mouth. He was about 8 inches long when fully hard, thick enough that the girth measured right around 6 inches. The extra width made him feel heavier and fuller than the length alone suggested, especially once the head flared.