I slammed the book shut and adjusted my hard cock in my jeans. That last chapter in the MM gay romance book had two guys fucking raw in a back alley, and it hit too close to home. I was supposed to be studying, not getting off to some dirty story about a mechanic and his boss. When Jake knocked on my door, I almost didn't answer. He was my roommate's friend, tall, built like he lifted engines for fun, and he had that smirk that said he knew exactly what I was hiding.
"Found this at the library," he said, holding up another MM gay romance book.
"Figured you'd want it after the last one I lent you."
I let him in. We sat on my bed because the desk was covered in shit. He cracked the book open and started reading out loud. His voice was low and rough, and he didn't skip the filthy parts. "He shoved his thick cock into him, no lube, just spit and need." Jake looked up at me. "That turning you on?"
I didn't answer with words. I grabbed his shirt and pulled him down. Our mouths crashed together, tongues fighting, teeth clicking. He tasted like beer and mint. His hand went straight to my crotch, squeezing my dick through the denim until I groaned into his mouth.
"Get these off," he growled, yanking at my jeans. I kicked them away along with my boxers. My cock slapped against my stomach, already leaking. Jake stripped fast, his own dick heavy and veined, balls tight. He pushed me onto my back and spit into his palm, wrapping his fist around both our cocks. He stroked us together, rough and fast, precum mixing with the spit to make everything slick and filthy.
"Fuck, your cock feels good against mine," he muttered. I reached down and grabbed his ass, fingers digging into the muscle. He shifted, spreading my legs wider, and pressed a finger against my hole. No teasing, just pushed in dry at first, then added spit. It burned in the best way.
"More," I demanded. He added a second finger, scissoring me open while his thumb rubbed my taint. My hole clenched around him. He pulled his fingers out, spit on his cock, and lined up. One hard thrust and he was buried balls-deep. I arched off the bed, the stretch intense and perfect.
He fucked me like he meant it, hips snapping, skin slapping. Every thrust dragged over my prostate and made my cock bounce. "Take it," he said, voice dirty. "Your ass was made for this." I wrapped my legs around him and met every thrust. Sweat dripped from his chest onto mine. He leaned down and bit my nipple, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.
I grabbed my own cock and jerked it in time with his pounding. Pre-cum flew everywhere. He grabbed my wrist and pinned it above my head. "Don't touch. I'll make you come on my dick alone." He changed angle, grinding deep, and I saw stars. My balls drew up tight.
He pulled out suddenly, flipped me onto my stomach, and slammed back in. Doggy style let him go deeper. His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise. One hand reached around and twisted my nipple while the other slapped my ass. The sting mixed with the pleasure until I was shaking.
"Close," I warned. He pulled out again, rolled me over, and shoved back in missionary so he could watch my face. His strokes got shorter and harder. "Come for me," he ordered. I did, shooting thick ropes across my chest and chin without touching myself. My ass clamped down on him.
Jake groaned, pulled out, and stroked twice before painting my hole and taint with his load. He pushed two fingers back inside, mixing his cum with the spit and pushing it deep. "Keep it in there," he said. We lay there panting, bodies sticky, the MM gay romance book fallen open on the floor beside us.
Later, after we cleaned up enough to go again, he read another chapter out loud while I sucked his cock. We didn't stop until the sun came up. Those books had started it, but the real thing was better, dirtier, and all ours.
