Federico

This story is completely fictional. All characters sexually depicted in any way are over 18 years old.

CW! = There will be a lot of the 'f' word used in this story along with maybe other offensive terms toward us gays, but always through the lens of a homophobic character and/or as a way of satisfying sexual fantasies/fetishes.

If you think you won't like it, I urge you to still give it a chance to this story and then tell me all about it in the comments.

Every time the story is divided by "---" it means that some time has passed.

And lastly, this is a rewritten work. There are some similarities with an older story of mine but it's so different that I am comfortable with posting it.

---

Federico

At the back of the bus, I texted my girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - while my friend Marcos watched from the side. I was trying to get back together and made every promise I could: that I wouldn't be jealous anymore; I wouldn't fight with her friends; I wouldn't look through her phone, stuff like that.

"She's not giving in?" Marcos asked and I shook my head in response.

Marcos sometimes got on my nerves with his prying. He was one of those gay guys who were somewhere in between manly straight and effeminate prissy. I wasn't even really his friend. Well, not that much. I wouldn't want people to see me with him.

I usually let him give me a handjob in the back of the bus, but other than that we didn't have much in common.

Now his hand went up my thigh and took a good grab of my volumuous shorts bulge. I pushed his hand away, not in the mood at that moment.

"I can help you feel better."

I ignored him, focusing on my ex's texts. I felt more than saw his hand on my stiffening cock again. I looked around and the bus was pretty empty, the driver too far to see anything.

"Stop, I don't want it," I said. He kept feeling my cock.

Well, I thought, and shrugged.

I bit my lip when his hand got inside the shorts.

I texted Mari that I loved her and begged for her forgiveness. I would get her back.

Marcos began to rub a thumb right on the wet tip of my cock and I resisted the urge to jerk my body, but a big sigh escaped my lips as I bit the lower one.

"Dirty fag," I said.

"That's right," Marcos smiled. "I wish my boyfriend had a big cock like yours. I would suck on it all day."

He always tried to please me by complimenting the size of my cock, and it worked.

"You're not gonna suck this one."

I never let him do anything other than jack me off.

What a fucking predicament having to resort to getting jacked off by an unfaithful fag to get some sort of release. The first time I had told myself it was better than doing something with a girl because then it would be cheating. What a bunch of bullshit. It did feel like cheating! It was why I kept doing it. For the thrill! Even now as I was currently single, it still felt filthy and dirty.

Marcos was good looking, a six-foot rumple of lithe muscles, blessed with a long black hair and nice jaw, adorned with tight shirt and pants displaying his body provocatively, and he was much better looking than me.

I had one thing going for me which was exactly what Marcos wanted the most - a very big cock.

"Vince, if you like my hands you would like my mouth," Marcos said. It was the same thing every time, a little game we played. It was infuriating how Marcos knew things, how to touch and twist and squeeze much better than girls.

"Why do you ask if you know you're gonna be disappointed?"

We were whispering and staring straight ahead so as to not raise the suspicion of the people at the front nor the driver.

"I wish I could see you in action," he said.

"How?"

"Just fucking. I would gladly go down for you. I think you're a pounder. But if not, I would like to watch you with Mari too, if it meant watching you naked, see that nice and tight manly butt shaking while you destroy some pussy."

All the while he had been working non-stop in my cock and I gasped, my lips quivering slightly.

What a dirty son of a bitch! He knew I enjoyed his attention. How could I turn that around? Having my cock been so desired was flattering and would always be, even if it the flattery came from an immoral fag like him.

"Do you think about me a lot? Do I fuck you in your dreams?" I asked, afraid that my curiosity was showing.

"All the time," Marcos said, bringing a smile to my face. "Can I tell you a secret? My boyfriend knows. I tell him everything."

Oh. That was new.

"Really? He's okay with it? Hey, slow down, you're gonna make me cum...can't go to class with cream in my underwear..." He squeezed me hard and I bit my lip again, breathing hard and trying my best to disguise it. He slowed down.

"Sorry. It's just your cock...feels so good. And he's fine, he likes it. I told him how big you are, much bigger than him."

"What if he tells someone?"

"Oh, you know. He has a big family. He doesn't want them or other people to know that he loves being cucked...by big-cocked superior dudes." Squeeze.

His words more than his hand-job was what was going to make me cum.

"Stop!" I begged. A whisper filled with cum-filled desperation.

Marcos stopped. I was both thankful and angry for the refused orgasm.

We spent a minute in silence while my cock struggled to let go of the erection. Marcos took the cock-sweaty hand to his face and began to subtly sniff it. I turned to the window of the bus. I was surprised to see the familiar college buildings. Time had been elusive.

Shit, I wanted to blow that load. Could feel my balls twisting in on themselves just to punish me, and I deserved that punishment. Mari wouldn't help me out with that anytime soon. And jerking off was a sad substitute even for a disgusting, anxiety-filled, back-of-the-bus handjob from a promiscuous gay guy who liked to cuck his boyfriend.

"Vince..." Marcos said. There was a pleading quality to his voice which made him sound more effeminate. "Let me suck your cock. We can go to my place. My boyfriend would like to watch too."

Marcos was so pathetic, asking those things knowing what my answers would be. Pathetic.

Like jerking off all by myself at home watching bad free porn.

---

The apartment where Marcos and Federico lived was too close to my house for comfort...I really didn't want anyone to recognize me on the way there so I dressed up accordingly, covering my whole body with thick dark clothing. Going at night also helped.

I was nervous, certain that I should turn back and completely enraptured by the homosexual dynamics of Marcos and Federico, even though I knew from the bottom of my heart that I was straight.

Why have I agreed to this?

Cause I'm horny and angry and very curious.

A week has passed since Marcos asked for the first time to suck my cock in front of his boyfriend. Today I had finally agreed. Today was also the day Mari and I got back together, and that fact had no weight in my decision to get head from a guy.

Lie.

I was eager to cheat and punish her.

In the enclosed space of the elevator going up to the apartment floor, I was able to relax a little. I was doing it. Acceptance.

My anxiety had not been fear of rejection. I had a big cock and Marcos would suck it. For some reason I was pretty sure I didn't need to worry about looks.

That never happened with girls.

Was that because I was straight, or was it the clear, almost invasive interest that Marcos had always shown towards me that left me confident? Because I was very confident.

I would wreck his mouth.

And there was my new erection. Jesus. How easy I was getting tight in the pants for fag dreams and fantasies. Mari would love to know that about her boyfriend.

When I arrived it didn't take long for the door to open. Marcos greeted me in a friendly manner which I didn't reciprocate, it seemed like he was forcing intimacy. It became clear that the reason for that was the man right behind him.

Federico was stern, not flamboyant at all and smiling shyly; the same height as me with a strong handshake. His clothes hung more loosely over his body as if he was not as desperate to display his physique as his slutty boyfriend.

After introducing us Marcos kept forcing intimacy in front of him, like he wanted to present me as more of a closer friend than we were. I pretended I didn't notice but also didn't indulge. With his boyfriend right there I began to have cold feet.

There was a moment when we were in the couch and Marcos went to grab drinks, leaving me and Federico alone, and he began to ask questions about my life. The conversation was easygoing and I didn't have any problem telling him things. He knew I was dating, he said, when I told him about Mari.

"Uh, Marcos told me...you were texting her once while he...uhh...jacked you off, in the bus, is that right?"

Surprisingly my face grew hot as I looked into the eyes of this awkward but pleasant dude who could just as well be one of my friends.

Was he really okay with this like Marcos claimed?

"Yeah, that did happen."

He nodded, made an awkward eye contact and smiled.

"Hey, it's hmm it's cool."

"Is it? Marcos said you liked it."

He nodded again still smiling.

"It's kind of wild," I said, avoiding silence.

"Yeah. I know. So...Hmmm."

He was fidgeting his feet, very obviously nervous which made me wonder if it was the first time he was doing this. I was puzzled. Marcos gave the impression they had done it before. Interestingly enough, I didn't feel nervous anymore. There was in Federico the same sort of subservient energy that made me feel in control of the situation. I realized that if this was gonna work I was gonna have to be the one to make it work.

Marcos was already a bitch with no scrupulous.

Federico would have to undergo a little more pushing to reach that place.

I didn't like the way my mind was starting to work.

"Hey, just say the word," I said, "we stop this right now."

"No no I'm good," he said quickly.

"I can see you're a little nervous..."

"That's just how I am. I'm good. I mean, hmmm, if you are."

"Hey, it's your boyfriend. I'm good if you are."

He smiled.

"Does your girlfriend... know?" he asked.

"No."

He nodded, and his face got red.

"Hey, it's okay, you can ask." I assured him. For some reason, maybe because he felt more approachable to me as a cool normal guy instead of the cock-hungry gay boyfriend of his, maybe because he appeared genuinely nice, I felt like I could be more familiar to him.

"Do you...like cheating?" he said meekly.

The question was one that I was still debating within myself and my moral values...but at that moment I knew what would be the right thing to say to heat things up.

"I do. I love my girl, but I just can't keep it in my pants."

"Oh...Damn. That's..."

"What?"

"Hot."

"Do you like cheating?"

"Well...I don't cheat. But...you already know." He chuckled so shyly.

"I want you to say it. I said it. It's only fair."

"Uhhh. Okay. I mean, Marcos cheated on me and I found out, but I wasn't mad at him. He asked for forgiveness. I gave it. I...I don't know, it just happened. Just like that, you know? I asked him about it, just a guy here in the building we both knew, we met him in the elevator sometimes. They were meeting behind my back. In front of me they acted like...you know...just acquaintances. But they were fucking. And I found out, knocked on the guy's door and stormed in. He was there. I...I forgave him after a time because I couldn't stop thinking about it and I realized I enjoyed it. Everything. I... sorry, I'm rambling. Sorry."

"No, keep going. You weren't hurt?"

"I was. That was part of it. It hurt like hell, but I wanted more."

"Oh. Did it hurt when he told you about me?"

"Every time." He looked me straight in the eye and I couldn't deny his sincerity. "Every time...and he keeps saying how much bigger you are. It's humiliating. I know, it's crazy."

"Not crazy. Just wild." I was rock hard.

As he was telling his story, I felt something twist inside of me. He grabbed my attention. My fascination. I felt bad for him...that was it...I felt bad for him and wanted to hurt him at the same time because he was telling me he liked it. "Are you hurt right now because of me?"

"Yeah. You are much better than me." He said that while avoiding eye contact. He chuckled nervously. "I think Marcos is leaving us alone on purpose. He's taking his sweet time."

Right on cue Marcos appeared from the corridor with a bottle of wine and glasses for each of us. I could bet the little shit had heard everything.

I was still shaken by the words of the cuckold and eager to make his dreams come true. It was showing in my pants and I made no effort to conceal it. As we drank and talked and with Federico observing everything, Marcos placed a hand on my thigh and slowly made his way up. I widened my legs in a very assertive way, making both of them move away a little. Marcos groped me. His grip was firm and my cock was showing. The silhouette marked the pants.

Marcos looked at his boyfriend as if saying, I told you so. Federico, intent on his boyfriend's hand on my cock, sighed and moistened his quivering lips.

Federico looked at him with such adoration you could feel the love pouring right out. It hit me like a punch the fact that it was really love.

I was twisting his innocent mind, causing him pain, making him feel worthless by giving cock to his love right in front of him.

From then on Marcos paid no attention to him anymore, he was nothing, no awareness and no words towards him. He had wanted to suck me for a long time and here was the chance. From Marcos I felt no reciprocating love but instead the greed and eagerness of someone who always wanted more. He knelt on the ground in front of me, a look of worship in his face, and grabbed my pants. Pulled. Gasped. Smiled.

They spent a few seconds admiring my cock. I found myself enjoying the attention. This wasn't the bus and there was no one around for me to worry about.

Marcos asked for permission to touch. I gave it to him. With both hands he embraced the shaft and lifted it and was surprised to see that it grew even more. He pulled on it. My hairy sacs were exposed and they were also big enough to attract their hungry eyes.

Federico could claim he didn't cheat but definitely looked like he wanted to jump on my cock. I thought that was funny and a little tempting.

But Marcos, although annoying, was very talented.

Sorry, Mari, but you have never treated my cock this way. It felt comforting to shift the blame to her, though I knew I was bullshitting myself.

The pressure of his fingers around the throbbing made me bite my lip. It was like he wanted to feel each pumped up vein. Each time he squeezed a little pre-cum appeared at the top. He licked his lips.

The tip of his tongue connected to the tip of my cock, then teased around the edges, sending small electric throbbings through it and to my balls. Federico came closer to watch. He touched himself. I leered at him, boasting, somehow knowing through pure human instinct that he would like it.

He didn't say a word as he watched his boyfriend's tongue tasting my cum and my uncut foreskin, going down the shaft straight to my hairy balls.

"Hey, you," I said softly to Federico. With a nod I indicated the other couch by the side. "Watch from over there. Pathetic cuck. I'll fuck your boyfriend's mouth and you will not do anything about it. Just jerk off." I said the last part with as much venom as I could.

I didn't know where all that was coming from. The pain in his face when he heard me contrasted with his abnormal erection showing through the pants. Why did I care if he was enjoying himself or not?

Yet I did. I did. Somehow thinking about him made me forget that I was fucking a guy's mouth. I latched onto that. I performed for an audience.

During the next hour or so I made his boyfriend gag, moan on my big cock, rub his face on my balls, lick the cock from root to head, slapped him like a slut, and jizzed his face like a shower more than once. I proved my worth, asserted my dominance and walked cock-free in their apartment to go piss in their bathroom. I left both fags shaking and satisfied. Federico had creamed himself too just by watching.

I had no regrets as I walked out, the cuck and his boyfriend thanked me. But the face of the former stayed in my mind for the rest of the day, the sad-puppy face, almost crying, looking straight in my eye while Marcos went down on the cock. He had also been putting on a performance...for me, as if he knew I liked it.

---

After dinner at Mari's house with her parents, who disliked me very much, I told her I was going home to study for exams, and took an Uber to Marcos's place for our second encounter. We had arranged our meeting through texts. He had tried to bring me into sexting but I had shut him down on that. I was getting served, and that was wall there was to it, I told him. I wanted a mouth to feed my cock to and his was available. He was somehow even more pleased with my rudeness. Fags were weird.

Marcos let me into his apartment and again try to insinuate some kind of intimacy with which I wasn't happy. But he had sucked me off pretty good so I let him caress my arm and rub my crotch. Federico was nowhere to be seen.

"We are by ourselves today," Marcos admitted on the couch.

"You told me you both had agreed," I said.

"He has, but he's working right now."

"Oh..."

"You could take some pictures on my phone, not showing you, just me sucking your cock so I can show him later."

I didn't know about pictures. It felt like a risk. Mari would be able to recognize my cock.

I actually was a little disappointed. That was weird.

"Well, let's move on, then." I unzipped my pants. He knelt and beheld my cock. It took a few sucks for him to entice my erection, but when it grew it was inside his mouth until he was gagging. I giggled at his stupid face and teary eyes. "Fucking cocksucker," I said.

It felt good to lay back and moan slowly with eyes closed. It also felt good to grab his hair and push his head down hard, very very good to have a warm, wet adoring hole all around my wood.

He began to massage my balls.

For a moment abandoning my cock, drenched in saliva, he sucked each ballsac. He gorged himself. I moaned loudly, enjoying more than I expected, so much that I didn't care he was running his hands over my chest, pinching both nipples. He returned to the cock demonstrating his incredible ability for deepthroat, but overstaying, gagging. His hands were below my shirt, actually twisting my nipples. I moaned even more, uncontrollably, unrestricted, unrestrained. I squirmed.

"Fuck yeaah, fuck yeaaah dude yeaah," I begged.

"You like this?" he dared ask me.

I nodded.

That was good enough for him.

"Oohh SHIT!" I moaned as a blood-thundering ball-bursting orgasm came out of me. My moans subsequently ran out of intensity, and I was left breathing heavily, sweating, hard sore nipples ravaged by pinching fingers.

Marcos was looking pretty satisfied, admiring my tired state. I admittedly let myself go there and shouldn't do it again. But it had felt damn nice.

I wished the puppy-faced cuckold had been there to watch it.

As Marcos cleaned me with tissues I rubbed my sore nipples, hoping that they wouldn't be too marked, and watched him.

"Mari doesn't make you cum like that, does she?"

"Fuck off. Finish so I can leave."

"Sorry."

I knew I only had snapped at him because his words had a stinging truth to them. I looked at him still on his knees and a good deal of cum on his face. I decided to take a picture of that.

"So you can show to your cuck," I said.

"He's gonna be sad you're not in the picture. He keeps talking about you."