Aris

You’ve known Aris for years—since freshman year, when he was the charming, slightly flamboyant guy everyone loved to hang with. But lately… he’s been different. More touchy. More confident. And tonight, after drinks, he’s something else entirely.

You unlock your apartment door, laughing about some dumb joke from earlier, when Aris slips in behind you, closing the door with a soft click. You barely have time to turn around before he’s leaning against the wall, eyes glinting under the dim light, that shimmering silver dress clinging to every contour of his athletic frame.

“Man, tonight was fun,” he says casually, but his voice is low, velvety, almost dangerous. Then he pushes off the wall and steps closer—way closer than necessary. You can smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand brushes yours, slow and deliberate, before sliding into your back pocket.

“You know…” He tilts his head, blue eyes locking on yours, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ve always wondered how long it’d take you to notice just how much I want you.”

The hem of his dress rides up as he presses against you, and you feel it—thick, heavy, unmistakable—the long bulge rubbing against your thigh. He leans in until his lips ghost your ear, his breath warm and teasing.

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just too busy imagining how good it would feel bouncing on my cock, moaning my name, making you forget every girl you’ve ever fucked?”

Then, with a slow grin, he hooks his finger under the neckline of his dress and lets it slip down, revealing the top of his sculpted chest. “C’mon, babe… just admit you’ve thought about it. I’ll make it so easy for you.”

Your back presses against the door as Aris leans in, his lips brushing your ear in the faintest tease of contact. His voice is low, smooth, and dripping with something dangerous.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispers, fingertips gliding up your arm like silk. His body is close now—too close. You can feel the heat of him, the subtle sway of his hips as his breath warms your neck.

“Always thought you were straight… but the way you’ve been looking at me tonight? Babe, you’re cracking.”

His smirk deepens when you swallow hard but don’t pull away. He takes that as an invitation—his hand slides down your chest, slow and deliberate, until it hooks into your belt loop. He tugs you closer, your thighs brushing, and you feel it.

God.

Thick. Heavy. Hard. His cock presses against you through the shimmering fabric of his dress, and there’s no hiding the obscene size of it. Your breath hitches, and Aris catches it, grinning like a predator tasting blood.

“Feel that?” he purrs, grinding his hips just enough to make the blunt weight of his length drag across your thigh. “I’ve been leaking for you all night.”

He steps back just enough to make you want him closer, then hooks his fingers under the hem of his dress. Slowly—agonizingly slowly—he lifts it, revealing inch after inch of golden, toned thigh, until the truth of him springs free with a soft slap against his abs.

You can’t help but stare. His cock is massive, long and uncut, the thick foreskin clinging tight over a fat, flushed head already slick with pre. It twitches, dripping another bead that slides down into the dark, trimmed pubes at the base.

Aris sees your expression and smirks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Shocked? Don’t be. I’ll make sure you love every inch.”

Before you can speak, his fingers are under your chin, tilting your face up. His lips meet yours in a slow, claiming kiss—soft at first, then deeper, wetter, until his tongue slides past your lips and you moan against him. His free hand grips your hip, pulling you flush against his body, his cock grinding against your stomach, smearing warm slick between you.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless, and he’s smirking like he’s already won. “There we go…” he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Just let me take care of you. You’ll never want anyone else after tonight.”

He backs you toward the bed, every step slow, teasing, his cock bouncing with each move, dripping a shining trail down his abs. When you hit the mattress, he presses you down gently and straddles your waist, his body gleaming like a living sin above you. His hips grind in a lazy circle, dragging that heavy cock across your chest.

“God, you feel so small under me…” His voice is molten now, breath shaky as he leans down to kiss you again. “You’re mine tonight, babe. Every inch of you.”

Aris hovers above you on the bed, that wicked smirk curling his lips as his abs ripple when he moves. His cock—thick, uncut, and slick with pre—rests heavy against his stomach, a shining trail of precum dripping down over those perfect ridges.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice soft but commanding as his fingers brush through your hair. “God, you’re so fucking cute like this… all quiet, staring at me like you’re starving.”

He leans down, his lips grazing your ear, and whispers slowly, “Then eat, baby.”

He shifts his hips forward until that massive cock rests along your chest, the blunt, leaking head just below your chin. The heat of it makes you gasp—it’s so thick, so heavy you can feel the weight pressing down on you. Pre drips lazily, sliding toward your throat.

“Start with my abs,” Aris says, lifting your chin with a finger. “Kiss them. Lick them clean for me.”

You obey, lips brushing against the first hard ridge, tasting the salty-slick pre smeared there. His breath shudders when your tongue drags slow over the defined muscles, collecting every drop that dripped from him. He watches with hooded eyes, smirk widening as you worship his stomach like a sinner at an altar.

“Fuck…” His voice is husky now, his hips twitching slightly as he cups the back of your head. “Good boy. God, that tongue…”

By the time you reach his lower abs, you’re right at the base of his cock. It throbs against your chest, foreskin rolled halfway back to reveal the swollen, pink head slick with fresh pre. Aris tilts his hips, smearing the length against your jaw.

“Open,” he whispers, his tone gentle but leaving no room for argument. When you part your lips, he hums in approval, dragging the thick, veiny shaft across your tongue before letting it rest there, heavy and pulsing.

“Taste me,” he purrs, slowly rocking his hips to slide his foreskin forward, the soft skin gliding over your lips. He does it again, slow and deliberate, teasing you with that warm sheath, letting you feel the silky contrast of skin-on-skin as his cock swells harder in your mouth.

Pre-cum floods your tongue when the tip nudges past your lips, salty and sweet, dripping down your throat as he strokes your hair like a reward. “God, you’re perfect…” he breathes, voice breaking with need. “Keep going… take a little more. I’ll make you love this cock.”

He rolls his hips gently, feeding you more of his length in slow, careful motions, letting you savor every inch, every shift of his foreskin as it slides back and forth. Your lips stretch around him, drool mixing with the slick as he moans softly above you.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck… you’re mine now.”

Your lips are wet and swollen from sucking him, your chin slick with drool and his precum, when Aris pulls back with a shaky groan. His cock slips free from your mouth with a wet pop, the foreskin rolling forward over the slick, fat head as he strokes himself slowly, smearing your spit along his shaft.

“God, look at you,” he whispers, voice trembling with heat. His blue eyes are blazing, fixed on your flushed face as he straddles your waist. “I knew you’d be perfect for me.”

He leans down and kisses you—slow at first, then hungrier, tasting himself on your tongue. His cock rests heavy against your stomach, smearing slick as his abs flex with every shift of his hips. When he pulls back, his breath is ragged, and his smirk has softened into something darker.

“I want to fuck you, babe,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your jaw. “Been dreaming about this since the day we met. Thought you’d never let me… but look at you now.”

Your heart pounds as he pushes your legs apart, sliding between them with practiced ease. He takes his cock in hand, stroking it slowly as he lines the fat, leaking tip against your hole. The heat of him makes you shiver—thick and throbbing, so much bigger than you imagined.

“Relax,” he soothes, voice a low, velvety hum. His free hand rests on your chest, feeling your heartbeat as he presses the head forward, just enough to breach you. The stretch is intense, your breath catching—but Aris is patient, his hips barely moving as he whispers, “Shh… I’ve got you. Just breathe. Let me in.”

The blunt head pops inside with a wet, obscene sound, and you moan helplessly, fingers clawing at the sheets. Aris bites back a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder as he holds still for a moment, letting you adjust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he breathes, hips trembling as his foreskin drags slowly over his shaft with every tiny movement. “God… squeezing me like you were made for my cock.”

He starts moving in shallow, gentle thrusts, rolling his hips in slow circles to ease you open, the soft skin of his cock gliding like silk inside you. Every inch is deliberate, every stroke paired with kisses to your neck and filthy whispers against your ear:

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Better than you ever imagined. Just admit it, baby—you love having me inside you. You’re mine now.”

When he finally bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt, you feel full—stretched to your limit, trembling under him. Aris holds you close, forehead resting against yours, his voice soft and breathless as he whispers the words that seal your fate:

“There we go… all the way in. God, I’m never letting you go now.”

Then he starts moving—slow, deep thrusts that make your toes curl, every drag of his foreskin sending sparks through your body as he corrupts you completely with pleasure.

The first thing you feel when you wake up isn’t the sunlight—it’s warmth. Firm, solid warmth beneath your cheek. You blink slowly, your head rising and falling with the rhythm of steady breaths. It takes a moment to process where you are… and what exactly you’re lying on.

Aris.

He’s on his back, one arm lazily draped behind his head, the other resting on your hip like you belong there. His skin glistens faintly in the soft morning light, every ridge of his abs defined and hard as stone beneath your face. You shift slightly, and that’s when you feel it—pressing against your thigh. Thick. Heavy. Alive.

You glance down and swallow hard. His silver dress is long gone, replaced by nothing but bare, toned muscle and a cock so big it looks unreal, lying across his hip like it owns the bed. The foreskin has slid back just enough to reveal the fat, slick head, and there’s a glimmer of dried precum trailing down to his trimmed pubes.

Aris stirs with a soft groan, his blue eyes fluttering open. When he sees you still draped over him, he smirks, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning, gorgeous… comfortable down there?” His fingers slide up your back, slow and teasing, stopping at your neck as he gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “You look so fucking cute on me like that. Makes me wanna keep you there forever… maybe with my cock in your mouth next time.”

He flexes his abs under you, making you rise and fall slightly, before his hand dips lower, brushing over your ass as his grin turns darker. “Last night wasn’t enough, was it? You’re still hard, aren’t you?”

You wake slowly, cocooned in warmth. It takes you a moment to realize why it feels so heavy—why you can barely move. Then it hits you.

Aris.

You’re lying against his chest, his toned arms wrapped tight around your back like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His skin is warm against your cheek, smooth and firm, every slow rise and fall of his breath rocking you gently. You shift slightly, and his grip tightens instantly, pulling you closer.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep—and something else. You glance up and freeze. His lashes are wet. His blue eyes shimmer with tears he isn’t trying to hide.

“Aris…? What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, smiling through the tears as his hand cups the back of your head. “Nothing’s wrong,” he whispers, voice breaking as his thumb brushes your hair. “I’m just… happy. You don’t get it. I’ve wanted this for so long—you—since the first day we met.”

Your breath catches as his words sink in, his body trembling slightly under yours. “Every time you smiled at me… every time you called me your best friend—I was dying inside because all I wanted was this. To hold you. To make you mine.”

He presses his forehead to yours, his tears warm against your skin as he kisses you—soft, lingering, desperate like he’s afraid it’s the last time. When he pulls back, his voice is barely a whisper:

“Please… don’t leave. I can’t lose you now.”

And then he crushes you to his chest again, burying his face in your hair as he breathes you in like he’s starving for your scent. His cock, still hard from waking up, presses against your hip, but he doesn’t move—doesn’t push for more. Not yet. Right now, he just wants to feel you there, safe in his arms, like everything he’s ever dreamed of is finally real.