We met at the back of the comic shop on a rainy Thursday night. I was flipping through the new issue of Hardline when Jake leaned over my shoulder and muttered, "That ones got the best cum shots." His voice was low and rough, like hed said it a hundred times before. I looked at him, saw the bulge already pressing against his jeans, and knew we were skipping small talk.
We bought three issues each, paid cash, and walked straight to his apartment two blocks away. The door barely clicked shut before he shoved me against the wall. "Strip," he said. I yanked my shirt off, kicked my boots away, and dropped my pants. My cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy between my legs. Jake stared, licked his lips, and pulled his own clothes off in one motion. His dick stood straight out, veined and leaking at the tip.
We spread the comics on the coffee table. The first panel showed two guys sixty-nining, one swallowing the others cock to the root while fingers worked a tight hole open. Jake dropped to his knees right there on the rug. "Read it out loud," he ordered. I started describing the page while he wrapped his hot mouth around my dick. He sucked hard, no teasing, just wet slurping sounds and the feel of his throat squeezing the head every time he took me deep. Spit ran down my balls. I kept reading, voice cracking when he shoved two fingers up my ass without warning.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that panel," I groaned. Jake pulled off my cock, strings of spit connecting his lips to my shaft. He flipped me around, bent me over the arm of the couch, and spat on my hole. One thick finger pushed in, then two, scissoring me open while he stroked his own cock with his free hand. "This is the page where the top rams it in raw," he said, lining up. He shoved his cock inside in one steady thrust. I grunted at the stretch, the burn turning into that deep, dirty pleasure as he bottomed out.
He fucked me like the comic described, hard and fast, hips slapping against my ass. Every pull-out dragged along my prostate and every slam shoved me forward. I reached down and jerked my cock in time with his thrusts. The second comic lay open beside us, showing a guy getting face-fucked while another ate his ass. Jake pulled out, spun me, and shoved his cock down my throat. I gagged, eyes watering, but kept sucking, tasting my own ass on him. He held my head and pumped, using my mouth like a hole.
When he was close he yanked me up, bent me over the table again, and slammed back into my ass. This time he reached around and fisted my cock, stroking rough and fast. "Come on the page," he growled. I shot hard, ropes of cum splattering across the glossy panel of two guys breeding. Jake kept pounding, then buried himself deep and unloaded, flooding my guts with hot, thick spurts. We stayed locked together, breathing heavy, cum leaking down my thighs.
We didnt stop there.
We flipped to the next issue, read the next scene out loud, and switched positions. Jake rode my cock while I held the comic up for both of us to see. His ass gripped me tight, muscles working every time he dropped down. He jerked himself until he painted my chest and stomach. I flipped him onto his back on the floor, hooked his legs over my shoulders, and fucked him until my second load joined the first deep inside him.
By the time we finished the last comic the table was sticky, our bodies were sore, and both of us were grinning like idiots. Jake wiped cum off the pages with his thumb and licked it clean. "Same time next week," he said. I nodded, already hard again at the thought. The comics stayed on the table, open to the best pages, ready for round two.
