Page 4 of Bone Deep
That’s all I needed to know.
I didn’t tell him I was new to any of it, but I think he sensed it. He was patient. Careful. Asked me if I was okay more times than I can count.
I wasn’t there for careful.
Once I told him to stop holding back, Giancarlo rocked my world for two nights straight.
I left Florida different. Not confused. Not curious.
Certain.
My life changed in that hotel room.
And maybe it’s about to change again in the hotel room I find myself in now.
Because yes—I, Ryan “Butters” Buterbaugh—NFL superstar QB, endorsement darling, America’s wholesome sports crush—love dick.
And I am currently on all fours in a hotel wearing nothing but a red jock strap and a sexy ski mask over my head to keep my identity anonymous.
The mask only has a zipper over my mouth, so bros can use my throat.
No eye holes. I have pretty eyes, people would know.
No one can know what I’m doing.
No one even knows I crave cock, let alonethislittle proclivity. I’ve kept it all locked down tight. I haven’t even told my closest friend, Anthony.
But damn it, today’s my birthday, and I’m finally going to do something I’ve always wanted to do.
I’m going to get fucked by more than one guy at a time.
I haven’t gotten laid in ages because I couldn’t risk it with my career. I thought I might have a chance recently, but I’m tired of waiting on—well, that doesn’t matter.
What matters is not only has it been forever since I’ve been railed by a big, thick cock, but I’ve never had more than one at once.
I want to feel overwhelmed. Surrounded by hot, big-dicked dudes. I want to surrender completely.
I want to be used. For hours.
That’s why the only other thing adorning my body, other than the jock and the mask, is a butt plug with a cute little pink jewel at the end. Aside from ensuring I’m nice and stretched out—so we can get down to all the fucking—it makes my hole look pretty.
There’s a light tapping of knuckles on the door I propped open with the latch.
My dick hardens instantly.
The first of the guys I’ve been messaging on the DICK’D app has arrived. I confirmed with six dudes, just to be safe. I’ve heard about flakes. I wasn’t taking any chances.
I’m facing away from the door on purpose. I want them to get the full view. My—amazing, if I do say so myself—ass on display.
I waggle it a little. Gotta make those cheeks bounce.
The door creaks open.
Silence stretches.
Then—
“Ryan Michael Buterbaugh!”
