My Bullies - Chapter Twenty-Seven

The drive was completely silent.

Caleb’s hand rested on the gear shift, eyes fixed on the road. Ethan sat in the passenger seat, still naked under the thin hoodie and shorts, cock throbbing painfully against the damp fabric, pre-cum soaking through in a dark patch. Every bump in the road made him whimper quietly. Caleb never looked at him once.

When they pulled into Caleb’s driveway, the engine cut off. The sudden quiet felt heavier than anything that had happened all day.

“Strip,” Caleb said, voice low. “Everything. Leave it on the seat.”

Ethan’s hands shook as he peeled off the hoodie, then shoved the shorts down his legs. He was naked again — smooth, shaved, cock rock-hard and dripping — in the front seat of Caleb’s car in his own driveway.

“Out. Crawl to the front door.”

Ethan opened the door. The cool night air hit his bare skin like a slap. He dropped to his hands and knees on the concrete, ass up, cock swinging heavily beneath him as he crawled the entire length of the driveway to the front door. Every movement made his leaking cock brush against the rough ground. He could feel Caleb’s eyes on him the whole way.

Caleb unlocked the door, stepped inside, and waited.

Once the door clicked shut behind them, Caleb stripped. Shirt first, then sweatpants. He stood completely naked in the middle of the living room — thick, heavy cock already half-hard, muscles carved from years of sports.

“On your knees,” he said. “Every inch. And you say it after every kiss.”

Ethan crawled forward and started.

He kissed Caleb’s feet — left, then right — whispering, “Thank you for owning me, sir.”

He licked the arches, sucked each toe slowly, repeating the words between every lick.

He moved up — calves, thighs, the crease where leg met ass. “Thank you for owning me, sir.”

Caleb turned around. Ethan pressed his face between the firm cheeks and began to eat him. His tongue circled the tight hole, then pushed inside, licking deep and hungry. For twenty-nine full minutes he stayed there — face buried, tongue working, moaning softly into Caleb’s ass while Caleb stood with his hands on his hips, breathing slow and deep.

Every few minutes Caleb would murmur, “Say it.”

And Ethan would pull back just enough to gasp, “Thank you for owning me, sir,” before diving back in.

When the twenty-nine minutes were up, Caleb turned around.

He pulled Ethan to his feet, cupped his face with both hands, and kissed him.

It wasn’t cruel. It wasn’t rough.

It was deep, slow, and passionate — Caleb’s tongue sliding against Ethan’s, tasting himself, claiming him completely. One hand stayed on Ethan’s jaw, the other slid down his back and gripped his ass, pulling their bodies flush. Ethan’s leaking cock pressed against Caleb’s thigh as the kiss went on and on.

When Caleb finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together.

“You’re mine now,” he whispered against Ethan’s lips. “Completely.”