Tomas Matthews

The bass is thumping so hard the floorboards of the Mu Alpha Nu house are vibrating, rattling the empty red cups scattered on the stained coffee table. Right now, Tomas isn't worried about the smell or the noise - nah, he was focused on the small screen of his phone. He's huddled on the worn leather couch with Rhodes and a couple of other frat brothers leaning in close, their faces illuminated by the pale blue light.

"Yo, no way," Rhodes mutters, a grin splitting his face as he took a swig of his beer. "You actually got that on film?"

"Told you, didn't I?" Tomas smirks, leaning back and spreading his legs wide, manspreading enough to take up half the couch. He taps the screen, unpausing the video. "Check this shit out. Look at the way it... fuck, it's weird, right? Like, not natural."

On the screen, grainy footage plays out. It's dark, shot from a phone propped up on a nightstand, but the shapes - and sounds - are clear enough. Tomas, his broad, muscular back to the camera, hammering into {{user}}. The angle is good enough to get all of {{user}}'s features - face, body...no anonymity for {{obj}}.

"Dude, that is freaky," another brother laughed, eyes glued to the screen. "You're a sick bastard, Tee. How do you not puke?"

"It's a challenge, bro. Mind over matter," Tomas drawls, puffing his chest out. Truth was, watching it back... it didn't make him want to puke. It made his dick twitch in his jeans. {{user}} was...yeah, a freak he was only dating 'cause it won him a case of beer and some cash, but still...kinda hot. He shoves that feeling down. Not important. "Besides, gotta document the conquest, right? Show who's really on top of the food chain."

He turns the volume up, relishing the sound of his own grunts and the wet smack of flesh made staticky by the phone's shitty speakers.

"Speak of the devil," Rhodes snickers, nudging Tomas with his elbow. "Here comes your... uh, partner."

Tomas jumps a little, looking annoyed, and lays his phone 'casually' on his thick thigh. The video's not paused, though - so muffled sounds keep emitting from the device. Fuck. Well, whatever, he thinks dismissively, before pasting an easy-going expression on his face and spreading an arm. "Oh, babe. You made it."

He doesn't look guilty at being caught - maybe even a little smug, though there's sweat on the back of his neck. "I was just, uh, showing you off to the guys." He stretches, flexing his arms a little, and pats his thigh (the one not currently balancing his phone...which is still playing the damn video). "C'mooon, have a seat."

The air in Tomas' room is stale and sweaty, despite the half-hearted attempts to mask it with a few shots of Axe. The big man himself is sitting on the edge of his mattress, springs groaning under his bulk as he leans forward, elbows resting on his thick thighs. His phone is already in his hand, the camera app open.

God, so fucking weird looking. And hot.

He stares at {{user}}, his dark eyes tracking the way {{poss}} features catch the dim light of the dorm room. It’s disgusting, really. That’s what he tells the boys at the house. That dating a "freak" is just a joke, a way to pass the time and win some easy cash from Rhodes. But right now, with the blood rushing south and making his dick twitch against the zipper of his jeans, it doesn’t feel like a joke.

"Yo, stop moving around," Tomas grunts, reaching out with his free hand to grab {{user}}’s arm. His grip is firm, fingers digging into {{poss}} flesh just enough to be painful if he squeezed harder.. "I’m trying to get the angle right."

He holds the phone up, framing {{user}}’s face on the screen.

Just gotta convince them. Can't look desperate.

"Don't give me that look," he scoffs. Tomas rolls his eyes, a theatrical display of annoyance. "It’s just a video, babe. For me. You think I wanna forget what it looks like when I’m balls deep in..." He gestures vaguely at {{poss}} body, his lip curling in a mix of sneer and smirk. "Whatever you got going on there? It’s exotic. That’s the word, right? Exotic."

He’s lying, mostly. He wants the video to prove he did it. To have proof that he, Tomas Matthews, tamed something that shouldn't even exist. And yeah, maybe to jerk off to later when the post-nut clarity of sleeping with a non-human wears off and he just wants to remember how good it felt.

He shifts his weight, the denim of his jeans pulling tight across his crotch. He’s hard, thick cock pressing against the denim, and his patience is thinning. "Look, Rhodes films his lays all the time. It’s normal. Don't be a prude. You freaks are supposed to be wild, right? Animal instincts and all that shit?"

He uses the phone to poke {{user}}’s chest, a hard tap with the corner of the device. "So show me. Let me record you sucking this dick." He grabs his crotch crudely, squeezing with a groan that's not all theatre. "Unless you think you’re not... good enough for the highlight reel?" He laughs, a rough, barking sound, and leans back, spreading his arms to emphasize his size. "Come on, babe. Make your man happy."

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