Dylan: The blond twink gymnast

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Revision as of 17:31, 1 May 2012 by Okie writer85 (Talk | contribs)
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As Dylan Larssen answers the phone, he sounds out of breath. Your cock twitches in your boxers as you imagine what he might have been doing, what he might look like covered in sweat.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Dylan, it's Tyler."

You know Dylan more from English class than from the locker room, seeing as your practice times never overlap, but you've spent hours in that English class staring at him, marveling at the cut of his muscles, and so you've even gone to watch a few gymnastic practices. As you imagine his arms bulging on the pommel horse, you nearly lose your nerve, and you stammer.

"Tyler? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. Listen, there's nothing going on here, I was wondering if you might be free."

"Sure, man. I've just been out for a run; I'll hop in the shower if you want to head down here. You know where I live, right?"

Thanks to a group project you worked on a few weeks back, you do know where he lives, but you're too distracted by the thought of Dylan in the shower to give a prompt answer. Your cock is hard as a rock and leaking precum onto your boxers.

"Tyler?"

You snap out of it.

"Yeah, man, I know. Thanks... I'll see you soon."

You hang up, finding yourself harder now than before you made the call. What do you do next?

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