Lil' Helper
Copyright© 2025 by Eros Alban
Chapter 10
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 10 - Moving in with his mom's new boyfriend leads young Jamie into a new world of devotion, desire, and dark lusts.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma mt Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged Reluctant Gay BiSexual Science Fiction DomSub Anal Sex Exhibitionism Water Sports Public Sex Size Transformation
In the dim haze of early morning, with dawn’s weak light struggling to pierce the thick, slate-gray veil of clouds, the apartment stood as a muggy cage, suffocating under a torrential downpour that had battered Wolferton since midnight, the rain a relentless, hammering roar against the sagging roof, each drop a thunderous pulse that rattled the cracked windows and churned the town’s dirt roads into a slick, sucking quagmire of mud, trapping all life in a wet, oppressive embrace. The storm’s unyielding assault cloaked Wolferton in a mournful shroud, the sky a bruised expanse of roiling clouds, unleashing sheets of water that overflowed gutters, flooded ditches, and drenched the air with the raw scent of sodden earth and decay, the town’s usual dust drowned in a primal, restless deluge that seemed to throb with its own untamed energy. Inside, the air reeked of sweat, spunk, and damp plaster, the walls slick with condensation, the cracked windows fogged, blurring the dark, rain-lashed world outside into a smeary haze, while a single bulb flickered feebly above the sagging green love seat, its cushions sodden from last night’s passion, casting jittery shadows across the peeling linoleum. The humidity clung like a heavy veil, amplifying the musky shrine of Reese’s dominance, every creak of the floorboards and drip from a ceiling leak echoing the storm’s ceaseless rhythm, the darkness of the early morning wrapping the apartment in a cocoon of raw intimacy.
Jamie woke in Reese’s bed, his small, freckled frame stirring beneath the damp sheets, the rain’s relentless cadence seeping into his bones, the town’s trapped, primal mood mirroring the lingering heat of their connection, setting a charged stage for the day’s unfolding drama. His small frame curled against Reese’s 6’1” bulk, his freckled face buried between Reese’s thighs, lips wrapped around the base of Reese’s thick, hard cock, suckling softly in his sleep, swallowing the near constant pulse of precum. Two weeks of laced shakes twice a day, had sculpted Jamie into Reese’s perfect toy, his skin silkier, fuller hips swaying even at rest, his flat abs showing the beginning of growing muscles while hinting at deeper changes, his cock-sucking now a fucking masterpiece, honed daily.
Jamie stirred, his tongue flicking Reese’s shaft, tasting the musky pre-cum, the shakes’ heat surging. He shifted, lips trailing down, rimming Reese’s ass with slow, wet licks, circling the tight ring, his small hands spreading Reese’s cheeks, flexibility letting him nuzzle deep. Reese groaned, waking, “Fuck, pup, startin’ early,” his hand yanking Jamie’s curls, hazel eyes blazing, cock throbbing at the sight of Jamie’s glossy lips working his hole, freckles gleaming under spit. Jamie moaned, “Yes, stud,” voice muffled, diving back to Reese’s cock, sucking deep, long and sloppy, his throat tight from practice, tricks perfected: slow, teasing licks up the shaft, deep throating with wet gags, and ball teasing with strong fingers. His tongue swirled the tip, popping off with a spit-slick slurp, then dove back, gagging loud, spit dripping onto the cum-stained sheets.
Reese’s lewd chatter roared, “Goddamn, pup, your mouth’s a fuckin’ furnace—squeezin’ my cock like a vice! Love those gags, that slobber drippin’—you’re my perfect toy!” The rain’s drone outside matched the wet sucks, the apartment’s musky haze thickening, the TV off, only Jamie’s slurps and Reese’s growls echoing. Jamie’s hands rolled Reese’s balls, sucking one, then the other, with a filthy pop, then deep-throated again, spit soaking his naked chest, abs flexing, the shakes cranking his skill, every slurp a tease from past blowjobs.
The apartment was quiet except for the sounds of wet throat fucking, until Tara’s key scraped the lock. Normally Tara didn’t get home until after the boys left for work. Today home early because of the rain. The front door creaking through the rain’s patter. She stumbled in, soaked to the bone from walking from the bus stop after her shift at the Wolf’s Howl Motel, her wet hair plastered to her face, her navy blazer dripping on the floor as she peeled it off. Her work shirt transparent showing off her heaving tits, tight skirt sodden with rain and motel dust. Her eyes were hot, voice thick, “Fuckin’ rain.” She didn’t clock Jamie’s blowjob, Reese’s cock buried balls deep in his throat, and trudged to the bathroom, peeling off her wet skirt, muttering about needing a shower to wash off the storm’s chill. The shower hissed on, steam curling under the door, her obliviousness shielding the shakes’ secret.
Reese’s cock pulsed, dominance flaring. “Pup, floor—now,” he growled, sliding off the bed, straddling Jamie’s face as the kid knelt naked on the sticky floor, rain pounding outside. Reese fucked Jamie’s throat with deep, relentless thrusts, balls slapping his chin, spit and pre-cum smearing his freckled face. “Take it, pup—fuck, your throat’s so tight, chokin’ my dick!” Reese snarled, yanking Jamie’s curls, loving the sight of his glossy swollen lips, the gagging sounds, the spit-slick skin glinting under the bulb. Jamie’s hands teased Reese’s balls, stroking with all his strength, moans vibrating, and his devotion absolute.
The shower in Tara’s bathroom hissed like a torrential downpour, its drone mingling with the rain slamming the apartment windows, sealing Jamie and Reese in a cocoon of wet, musky heat. The air reeked of raw lust—sweat, precum, and the faint tang of Jamie’s citrus body wash—choking the room. Reese’s rough hands seized Jamie’s hips, flipping him onto all fours with a hungry edge. Jamie’s heart pounded like a jackhammer, his bare ass thrust high, round hips swaying, his pale, silky skin shimmering under the flickering bedside lamp. His tight, pink hole winked, untouched and trembling, begging for Reese’s claim.
Reese’s eyes glinted, a feral growl ripping from his throat. “Fuckin’ time, pup,” he snarled, spitting a thick glob onto his swollen, veined cock, the head glistening as he smeared it over Jamie’s quivering rim. He nudged in, slow at first, his fat tip breaching Jamie’s hole with a slick, obscene stretch. Jamie gasped, a raw, “Oh, fuck!” tearing from his lips as his ass clenched, then bloomed around Reese’s girth, the burn filthy and divine. “Stud, you’re fuckin’ huge—feels so goddamn good!” Jamie whined, voice cracking with desperate awe.
Reese smirked, his breath a hot gust against Jamie’s neck. “That shit got your slutty hole ready, didn’t it, pup?” he rasped, referencing the weeks of shakes that had loosened Jamie for this moment. He sank deeper, his cock splitting Jamie open, each inch a pulsing, filthy claim. The bedframe creaked like it might snap, drowning in the rain’s roar and their ragged gasps. “Fuck, look at you, takin’ my dick like a greedy little whore,” Reese growled, his voice a gravelly taunt as he started thrusting—hard, rhythmic, balls slapping Jamie’s ass with wet smacks.
Jamie’s lithe frame rocked, his taut abs flexing, his flexible body bending to swallow Reese’s cock deeper. His fingers clawed the sheets, knuckles white, as pleasure seared through him, his dripping cock swinging beneath. “Harder, stud, fuckin’ wreck me!” he begged, voice a slutty, breathless moan, his hole gripping Reese like a vice. Reese’s thrusts turned brutal, hips slamming with a lewd, squelching rhythm, his heavy sack smacking Jamie’s taint, each hit sparking electric jolts up Jamie’s spine.
“Goddamn, pup, this ass is a fuckin’ vice—milkin’ my cock like a pro slut!” Reese’s filthy chatter poured out, relentless. “You love this, don’t ya? My toy, stretched wide, beggin’ for my load.” His hands roamed, one yanking Jamie’s hip, the other sliding to pinch a nipple, twisting until Jamie yelped, “Fuck, yes, stud, ruin me!” Reese chuckled darkly, “Oh, I’m gonna, pup. Gonna fuck this tight little hole till you’re leakin’ my cum.” His words dripped with lust, stoking the heat as Jamie’s moans turned feral, his body shuddering with every deep, punishing thrust.
The air choked thicker, saturated with their musk—sweat, spit, and the slick drip of precum pooling on the sheets. For ten sweaty, frenzied minutes, they fucked like animals, the bed groaning, the room a haze of raw sex. “Look at that ass bounce, pup,” Reese growled, smacking Jamie’s cheek, leaving a red handprint. “Fuckin’ made for my cock.” Jamie pushed back, meeting each thrust, his hole slurping greedily, his cock throbbing, leaking strings of precum. “Stud, I’m yours—fuckin’ claim me!” he panted, voice breaking as Reese hit that sweet spot, stars exploding behind his eyes.
Reese’s hand slid to Jamie’s throat, a gentle squeeze, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re mine, pup, this perfect fuckin’ hole’s all mine.” The tenderness in his tone, buried under the filth, made Jamie’s heart stutter, the intimacy of his first time blazing through the haze. The rain roared on, but in this lamplit, cum-scented den, it was just them—Reese’s cock pounding, Jamie’s body yielding, their dirty talk a symphony of need, every thrust a vow etched in sweat and lust.
The shower’s hiss in Tara’s bathroom had long faded, but the rain’s relentless assault on the windows cocooned the apartment in a wet, primal drone. The air was a thick, filthy haze—reeking of sweat, cum, and the sharp bite of Jamie’s citrus body wash, now corrupted by their raw fuck. Reese’s balls tightened, his voice erupting into a guttural roar, “My fuckin’ pup!” He slammed deep, his thick, veined cock pulsing as he bred Jamie, unloading a hot, viscous flood into his stretched hole. Cum gushed past Jamie’s quivering, puffy rim, dripping in sticky, white ropes down his silky thighs, pooling on the sheets in a lewd, glistening stain under the flickering bulb. Jamie’s small frame quaked, his devotion absolute, his freckled skin flushed a deep crimson, fuller hips trembling as the shakes locked in his craving, a ravenous hunger searing his core.
Reese pulled out, his cock still rock-hard, slick with cum and Jamie’s ass, a creamy string dangling from the swollen tip. He growled, low and nasty, “Open up, pup, taste your fuckin’ hole.” Jamie’s lips parted eagerly, his tongue darting out as Reese slid his glistening dick into his mouth, ass-to-mouth raw and depraved. Jamie sucked like a starved slut, his tongue lapping the musky cocktail of cum and his own ass, gagging softly as the thick shaft rammed his throat. His glossy lips stretched wide, green eyes watering but blazing with need. “Fuck, pup, clean my dick—slurp that sweet ass off it!” Reese snarled, his voice a filthy command, one hand fisting Jamie’s curls to drive his bobbing head. Jamie’s moans vibrated around Reese’s cock, desperate and muffled, his nails digging into Reese’s muscled thighs as the shakes fueled his insatiable greed.
“Goddamn, pup, you’re a fuckin’ natural—suckin’ my cock like a dirty little dream,” Reese taunted, his hips bucking, smearing cum and spit across Jamie’s freckled cheeks. “Look at you, chokin’ on my dick, still drippin’ my load from that slutty hole.” Jamie whimpered, his throat working to take more, his own cock throbbing, leaking precum in sticky strings onto the hardwood. The bedframe groaned faintly, the cum-soaked sheets stinking of August’s humid heat, the air so dense it clung to their skin like a second layer of lust.
Reese yanked Jamie’s curls harder, tilting his head back, smirking with a dominance sharp as a blade. “Mine, pup,” he growled, his voice softening just enough to hint at a deeper claim. Jamie’s heart stuttered, the weight of his first time—raw, filthy, perfect—etched into his soul. He knelt, naked and trembling, cum oozing from his stretched, puffy hole, trickling down his thighs to mix with the spit and cum smeared across his face. His freckled glow burned under the lamplight, the shakes pulsing through him, a relentless craving for more of Reese, more of this.
Tara’s shower had stopped, her footsteps padding closer, oblivious to the depravity just beyond her bedroom door. The door creaked open, and Tara strolled in, a damp towel wrapped loosely around her curves, her dark hair dripping wet, leaving little trails on her shoulders. Reese sprawled naked across the bed, his slick, still-hard cock resting heavy against his thigh, glistening with Jamie’s spit and cum. Jamie remained on his knees on the hardwood, a wrecked mess—cum leaking from his raw, puffy hole, face smeared with spit and Reese’s load, his silky skin flushed and trembling with aftershocks. His green eyes darted to Tara, heart racing, but her gaze slid right past him, blind to the obscene scene.
“Fuckin’ hell, Reese, this damn rain’s never gonna stop,” Tara sighed, tossing her towel onto a chair, her voice casual, oblivious. She rummaged through her dresser, pulling out a lacy black bra and matching panties. “Streets are gonna be a mess. Jamie sweetie, make sure Reese drives carefully, good luck gettin’ to work.” Reese grinned, lazy and smug, stretching his arms behind his head, his cock twitching slightly. “Yeah, rain’s a bitch, but I’m good right here,” he drawled, his eyes flicking to Jamie, a wicked glint promising more. “Ain’t that right, pup?” he added, low enough to keep Tara clueless, his voice dripping with filthy intent.
Jamie’s breath hitched, his cum-slicked lips parting, but he stayed silent, his body buzzing with the shakes, craving etched into every inch of his skin. Tara slipped into her panties, the fabric hugging her hips, then clasped her bra, oblivious to the musky reek of sex saturating the room. “You’re such a slob, Reese,” she teased, glancing at the rumpled, cum-stained sheets but missing their meaning. “Clean up before you go, yeah?” “Sure thing mom.” Jamie squeaked out. She grabbed a shirt and headed for the door, still chattering about the weather, her footsteps fading down the hall.
Reese’s grin widened, his eyes locking on Jamie. “Up, pup. Time to shower,” he growled, standing and offering a hand, his cock still half-hard, slick and inviting. Jamie staggered to his feet, cum dripping down his thighs, his body a live wire of need. “Fuck, stud, I’m still yours,” he whispered, voice hoarse, the shakes urging him closer to Reese. They moved toward the bathroom, Reese’s hand possessive on Jamie’s ass, fingers grazing his leaking hole as the rain’s drone swallowed their steps. The shower hissed back to life, promising a new round of wet, filthy heat, their secret safe behind the steam.
The apartment’s muggy haze lingered as rain pounding the roof, a relentless downpour that turned Wolferton’s streets to mud and kept the strip mall site on hold, but Reese wasn’t one to slack. Jamie, naked in the apartment per Reese’s rule, slipped into his work outfit for the drive: a cropped black tee, barely covering his flat abs, cut-off jeans hugging his fuller hips, and knee-high socks. His freckled face flushed from the morning shakes and the hot shower making him clean.
Reese, shirtless in worn jeans, his skull tattoo slick with sweat, grabbed the keys to his pickup truck, its red paint chipped, no tinted windows to hide shit. “Let’s roll, pup,” he growled, cock still half-hard from the morning’s breeding, hazel eyes glinting. They piled into the truck, rain slapping the windshield, the cab a steamy trap of leather, motor oil, and Reese’s musk. The wipers groaned, barely clearing the downpour, August’s heat making the air thick, fogging the clear windows. Reese unzipped, his thick cock springing free, pre-cum beading. “Pup, keep me goin’,” he snarled, hand flexing on the wheel, his dominance a blade.
Jamie, hungry for more, leaned over the bench seat, his cropped tee riding up, abs glinting, fuller hips shifting in the tight jeans. He sucked Reese’s cock deep, skilled and sloppy, his throat tight from two weeks of daily practice and the tricks he had mastered: long, teasing licks up the shaft, tongue swirling the tip, deep throating with minimal wet gags. His small hands, strong from shakes, teased Reese’s balls, rolling them gently, spit dripping down his chin onto his cropped tee. Reese groaned, “Fuck, pup, you’re my fucking treasure,” his hand gripping Jamie’s neck, steering with the other, the truck rumbling through Wolferton’s slick streets. Jamie’s loud gags were a show, slurps echoing in the cab, his flexibility letting him bend low, lips locked tight, the shakes cranking every slurp into a tease.
Reese’s lewd chatter roared, “Goddamn, pup, your mouth’s fuckin’ perfect—suckin’ me so tight, like you were born for my cock!” He glanced at Jamie’s spit-slick face, freckles gleaming, lips stretched wide, and growled, “Love those gags, that slobber drippin’—fuck, you’re a goddamn sight, my perfect toy!” The rain’s patter and the truck’s rumble drowned the wet sucks, but the clear windows left them exposed. At a stoplight, a passerby—a grizzled dude in a raincoat—stared through the glass, catching Jamie’s head bobbing, his cropped tee soaked with spit, jeans riding low. The dude’s eyes lit up, and he hollered, loud and lewd, “Fuck yeah, kid, you’re a goddamn cock-suckin’ champ! Slurp that dick, boy—best I ever seen!” His crude cheers piled on, “Keep goin’, ya sexy little slut, milk that stud dry!” The raw thrill hit Reese like a fist, his cock pulsing. “Keep suckin’, pup—let him fuckin’ scream it,” he snarled, hand tightening on Jamie’s neck, the public edge spiking his lust.
Jamie moaned, “Yes, stud,” voice muffled, tongue flicking the slit, deep throating harder, spit and pre-cum smearing his silky skin. His hands squeezed Reese’s balls, the shakes’ strength making every move bold, his gags a rhythm with the wipers’ scrape and the passerby’s fading shouts. Reese’s balls tightened, his voice a roar, “Swallow it, pup!” He came hard, flooding Jamie’s throat with a thick load, the kid choking, gulping frantically, some cum dripping onto his cropped tee, staining the black fabric. Jamie pulled back, licking his lips, the “searing, primal wave” of Reese’s cum sparking lust, his freckled face glowing, eyes burning for more. “Fuck, stud,” he gasped, swallowing, the shakes amplifying his craving, the truck’s steamy cab a cage for their heat.
Reese zipped up, smirking, “Good pup,” his hand ruffling Jamie’s curls, dominance sealed. The light turned green, the passerby’s cheers cut off as the truck pulled away, rain blurring the view. Jamie sat up, cum and spit streaking his tee, jeans tight on his fuller hips, socks bunched, the shakes’ lust pulsing, his silky skin flushed under the cab’s dim light. The site loomed ahead, a muddy sprawl of concrete and rebar, the rain forcing work into the trailer or under tarps, Wolferton’s gritty pulse simmering, Reese’s perfect toy echoing from the Rusty Spoon’s caramel-spiced deal, setting the stage for the site’s raw play.
The strip mall site was a damp, hollow shell, the rain drumming the roof, a relentless downpour from the morning’s apartment and truck ride soaking the muddy lot. A few months into construction, the frame, walls, and roof were up, shielding the crew from rain, but no windows or doors left the interior open, humid, and reeking of wet concrete and rust. No power meant no work—saws silent, lights dead—to avoid mold in the soggy air. The crew that had made it in—Mike, Tony, Rico, Vince, and Reese— were sprawled on crates and concrete blocks stacked inside, a battery-powered boombox blaring gritty rock, its beat pulsing through the cavernous space, Westside’s raw edge alive in their curses and laughs.
The rain hammered the warehouse roof, a relentless roar that drowned the city’s hum, turning the air inside thick and muggy, ripe with the scent of wet denim, motor oil, and Jamie’s sweet, shake-soaked sweat. Jamie strutted through the rusted door, his cum-stained, cropped black tee clinging like a second skin to his flat, sculpted abs, the fabric soaked from his rain-drenched dash through the storm. His cut-off jeans, frayed and obscenely tight, hugged his fuller hips, the denim riding low to tease the slight, sexy curve just below his navel, just a lean, fuckable tease molded into Reese’s perfect toy. His knee-high socks, wet from the rain, squelched with each step, his freckled face flushing a vivid crimson, his silkier skin glistening with raindrops that caught the warehouse’s flickering neon glow. He slammed back his morning shake, the sweet, chemical burn surging through his veins, igniting a brazen willingness that made his green eyes spark with hunger.
The crew’s eyes locked on him, a pack of wolves circling their prey, each clutching a hidden gift—unaware of the others’ plans—convinced Jamie needed hotter, sluttier threads to match his shake-fueled vibe. Their gazes raked over his lithe frame, cocks twitching in their damp jeans, the air crackling with unspoken lust. Vince, leaning against a splintered crate, his raincoat dripping puddles onto the concrete, broke the silence with a gravelly bark. “Jokes, your fuckin’ TikToks are gold—those goofy wrench-spins and reckless flips got fans droolin’. But enough of that safe shit,” he said, gripping his camera, lens glinting like a predator’s eye. “They want sexy—dance, tease, show that tight little body off.” He shot Reese a sharp look, jerking his head toward a damp, graffiti-streaked wall, voice dropping to a conspiratorial rasp. “Reese, that spicy site we talked about? It’s live on SomeSluts.com. One week in, and Jokes is a goddamn star—clips of him grindin’ already pullin’ thousands. I take 25%, Jokes gets 25%, you get 50% and full control. Deal?” Reese’s hazel eyes glinted, a smirk curling his lips, his cock stiffening in his jeans at the thought of Jamie’s public heat, his perfect toy now a shared fantasy echoing their deal at the Rusty Spoon. “Fuck yeah, deal,” he drawled, voice thick with possession, his mind already spinning with ways to flaunt Jamie’s slutty glow.
Vince clapped, spinning back to the crew, his voice booming over the rain’s drone. “Alright, Jokes, we got gifts—time to fuckin’ shine, you little tease!” The crew whooped, their energy feral, as they gathered around a battered crate, the concrete floor slick with rainwater. One by one, they unveiled their offerings, each outfit sluttier than the last, a pile of depravity stacking higher: Mike stepped up, tossing a neon pink mesh crop top onto the crate, cut so high it’d bare Jamie’s tiny, brown nipples, the fabric sheer enough to scream fuck-me. “Show those tits off, Jokes,” Mike leered, winking. Tony followed, chucking in black leather shorts, so tight they’d mold to Jamie’s round ass like a second skin, the zipper going all the way around to give access to his hole. “Gonna hug that peach, boy,” Tony growled, licking his lips. Rico grinned wide, holding up a red jockstrap, its thin straps designed to frame Jamie’s fuller hips, leaving his hole exposed for the taking. “This’ll make ‘em beg, Jokes,” Rico purred, eyes locked on Jamie’s crotch. Vince added a sheer white crop top, so flimsy it’d turn transparent when wet, Jamie’s nipples and abs on full display. “Get this soaked, and you’re a fuckin’ wet dream,” Vince said, smirking. Reese, last, sauntered forward, tossing a black leather harness onto the pile, its straps meant to crisscross Jamie’s abs, accentuating his lean, fuckable frame. “Model ‘em, pup,” Reese growled, his voice a low, filthy command, eyes burning with ownership. The crew erupted, “Yeah, Jokes, strut your slutty shit!”
Jamie, buzzed from the shake’s sweet fire, flashed a cocky grin, his freckled face glowing with a mix of nerves and raw desire. He climbed a rickety scaffold under the warehouse’s dripping roof, rain pattering on his shoulders, the boombox kicking on with a bass-heavy track that pulsed like a heartbeat. “Fuckin’ watch me, boys,” Jamie teased, his voice a sultry taunt, hips swaying as he peeled off his soaked tee, revealing his glistening abs and perky nipples. He grabbed the neon pink mesh top, slipping it on, the fabric clinging to his wet skin, his nipples poking through like tiny, hard promises. “This what you want?” he purred, spinning slow, his cut-off jeans riding lower, the curve below his abs a taunting tease. The crew hollered, “Fuck yes, Jokes, shake that ass!” Vince’s camera flashed, capturing every move, while Reese’s gaze darkened, his cock straining, muttering, “That’s my fuckin’ pup, showin’ off for me.”
Jamie kicked off his jeans, revealing his bare ass, the muddy socks still hugging his calves, and stepped into the red jockstrap. The straps dug into his hips, framing his fuller curves, his hole peeking out as he bent forward, tossing a wink at Reese. “Like this, stud?” he called, voice dripping with slutty confidence, the shakes urging him to grind against the scaffold’s rail, his tiny cock twitching in the jock’s pouch. “Goddamn, pup, you’re beggin’ for it,” Reese growled, stepping closer, his hand itching to spank that exposed ass. The crew’s chatter exploded, “Fuck, Jokes, you’re a fuckin’ porn star!” “Get those shorts on, let’s see that ass pop!” Jamie laughed, drunk on their lust, slipping into the leather shorts, the material so tight it outlined every curve. He strutted, rain dripping down his chest, the sheer white top next, clinging wet and see-through, his nipples dark and hard beneath. “Who’s gonna rip this off me first?” he taunted, hips popping to the beat, the harness snapping into place, straps biting his abs, screaming submission.
The rain’s roar swallowed their cheers, the warehouse a steamy den of want, Jamie’s body a canvas for their desires—Reese’s perfect toy, sculpted by the shakes, now a public tease. “Keep goin’, pup,” Reese rasped, his voice thick with pride and hunger, “show ‘em what’s mine.” Jamie’s green eyes locked on Reese, his heart pounding, the shakes fueling a craving that burned hotter than the neon glow, his every move a promise of more to come
By noon, the rain still pounded the warehouse roof, a relentless drumbeat that turned the construction site into a steamy, damp trap, the air thick with the scent of wet concrete, rust, and the faint musk of Jamie’s cum-slicked body. Work had ground to a halt hours ago, the morning’s plans drowned in the deluge, leaving the crew sprawled on splintered crates under the leaking roof, munching stale sandwiches from a greasy paper bag. The boombox droned a gritty, bass-heavy track, its rhythm pulsing through the open walls where rain dripped in steady rivulets, pooling on the concrete floor. Flickering neon strips cast a hazy glow, catching the sheen of sweat and rainwater on Jamie’s silkier skin, his freckled face flushed a vivid crimson from the shakes coursing through his veins.
Jamie, still in the sheer white crop top—now clinging wet, transparent, his tiny brown nipples hard and visible—and the red jockstrap that framed his fuller hips, glowed like a fucking beacon. Cum from the morning’s raw fuck with Reese still slicked his hole, a warm, filthy reminder leaking slightly as he moved, his thighs glistening under the neon. The shakes fueled his every step, a sweet, chemical fire that made his green eyes spark with a cocky, slutty hunger. He danced across the damp concrete, hips swaying to the boombox’s beat, his lean abs flexing, the leather harness from Reese’s gift crisscrossing his chest like a brand of ownership. The crew’s eyes were glued to him, cocks twitching in their soaked jeans, sandwiches forgotten as they watched their shake-sculpted toy own the room.
“Fuckin’ hell, Jokes, you’re a goddamn show,” Mike growled, wiping mustard from his chin, his gaze locked on Jamie’s ass as the jockstrap’s straps dug into his hips, teasing the curve of his hole. Jamie grinned, grabbing a crate to use as a makeshift bar, pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey and a stack of plastic cups from a duffel. “Thirsty, boys?” he teased, voice sultry, pouring shots with a flourish, his body swaying, the crop top riding up to bare more of his abs. “Gonna keep you fed and wet,” he added, winking at Reese, who lounged against a steel beam, hazel eyes dark with possession, his cock still half-hard in his jeans from the morning’s claim.
“Keep shakin’ that ass, pup,” Reese rasped, his voice a low, filthy command that cut through the rain’s roar. “Show ‘em what’s mine while you pour.” The crew whooped, Tony leaning forward, his sandwich crumbling in his fist. “Fuck, Jokes, you mix drinks like you ride dick—smooth and fuckin’ dirty!” he barked, earning a laugh from Rico, who added, “Bet that hole’s still drippin’ from Reese’s load—look at him glow!” Jamie’s cheeks flushed deeper, but he didn’t miss a beat, tossing back his own shot, the whiskey’s burn mingling with the shakes’ heat. “You wanna taste, Rico?” he taunted, bending slightly to pour another round, his jockstrap riding up, exposing the slick sheen of cum on his inner thighs. The crew roared, “Goddamn, Jokes, you’re beggin’ for it!”