Mike slammed his beer down on the coffee table and grinned like a wolf. "You lost the bet, asshole. Rules are rules. On your knees."
Jake sat there on the couch, face red, staring at the final score on the TV. His team had choked in the last minute. The deal was simple: loser sucks the winner's cock. They were both drunk, both laughing about it earlier like it was a joke. Now Mike was serious, already unbuttoning his jeans.
"Fuck you, man," Jake muttered, but he didn't get up. His heart was pounding. They'd been roommates for two years, seen each other naked plenty, but this was different.
Mike pulled his cock out. It was already half-hard, thick and veiny, the head shiny. "You said it. No backing out. Suck it."
Jake slid off the couch and onto the floor between Mike's spread legs. He grabbed the base, feeling it twitch in his hand. It was hotter than he expected. He leaned in and licked the head, tasting salt and skin. Mike groaned low.
"That's it. Open up."
Jake took the head into his mouth. It stretched his lips. He sucked slow at first, tongue working the underside, trying to figure out what the hell he was doing. Mike's hand landed on the back of his head, not pushing hard yet, just guiding. "Deeper. Take more."
Jake pushed down, gagging a little when it hit the back of his throat. Mike's cock grew fully hard fast, filling his mouth. He bobbed his head, spit running down the shaft. The taste was strong, musky, and it made his own dick twitch in his pants. He reached down and rubbed himself through the denim.
"Look at you," Mike said, voice rough. "Getting hard sucking cock. Knew you were a closet fag."
Jake pulled off long enough to growl, "Shut the fuck up," then went back down, sucking harder. He wanted to prove he could do it. Mike thrust up a little, fucking his mouth shallow. Spit dripped onto the floor.
After a few minutes Mike pulled him off by the hair. "Pants off. Bend over the arm of the couch."
Jake stood up, stripped fast. His own cock was rock hard, leaking at the tip. He felt exposed, but the buzz in his head and the ache in his balls pushed him forward. He bent over the couch arm, ass up.
Mike got behind him, spit on his fingers, and rubbed them over Jake's hole.
"Relax. Gonna stretch you."
One finger pushed in. It burned at first, then felt weirdly good as Mike worked it in and out. A second finger joined, scissoring him open. Jake grunted, pushing back a little without thinking. Mike laughed dirty. "Yeah, you want it."
He pulled his fingers out, spit on his cock, and pressed the head against Jake's hole. "Deep breath."
The push was slow but steady. Jake's ass stretched around the thick head, burning hot. He hissed through his teeth. Mike didn't stop until his balls pressed against Jake's ass. Full. Stuffed. Mike started thrusting, short and hard at first, then longer strokes that slapped skin.
"Fuck, your ass is tight," Mike growled. He grabbed Jake's hips and pounded harder. Each thrust knocked a grunt out of Jake. His own cock rubbed against the couch fabric, leaking. The pain mixed with something hot and electric in his gut. He reached down and jerked himself.
Mike leaned over him, breath hot on his neck. "Say it. Say you like taking cock."
"Fuck you," Jake panted.
Mike slammed in deeper. "Say it or I stop."
Jake's voice cracked. "I like it. Fuck, I like taking your cock."
Mike laughed and picked up the pace, balls slapping. He reached around and grabbed Jake's dick, stroking it rough in time with his thrusts. Jake came first, shooting ropes across the couch cushion, ass clenching tight around Mike's cock. That pushed Mike over. He buried deep and unloaded, hot cum flooding Jake's hole.
They stayed like that a minute, breathing hard. Mike pulled out slow, cum leaking down Jake's thigh. He slapped Jake's ass. "Bet's paid. But we got all night if you want round two."
Jake straightened up, legs shaky, cum and spit everywhere. His face burned but his spent cock gave a little twitch at the idea. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Next game," he said. "Double or nothing."
