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StoriesByTroy

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  1. StoriesByTroy
    Thank you so much Mochi. Hoping to update on here as often as I can. Thank you <3 Only time will tell. I usually write happily ever afters… but you never really know what’s going on in my mind.
  2. StoriesByTroy
    By the time Matteo texted again, I should have known better. I had told myself that night at his apartment was a one time thing, a ridiculous performance for an audience of one. Jessica had played her role perfectly too, pretending not to care while studying us like she was preparing for an exam. When I left, I felt drained, like I had been holding my breath the whole evening. But Matteo’s message came again the next sunday, short and casual, as if nothing about that night had been strange.
  3. StoriesByTroy
    By the time we made it back with wine, half the wedding party was already drinking whatever they found on the table. A few of the guests were still eating, plates of grilled salmon and chicken were being passed around, the clink of cutlery filling the air, and someone had clearly decided “lunch” was a loose concept because half the table was already on their third mimosa. “What took you guys so long?” the maid of honor asked, eyebrows raised as we set the bottles of wine down on the table.
  4. StoriesByTroy
    When Matteo Romano, a straight Italian guy, convinces his best friend Adrian to pretend to be his boyfriend to keep his ex away, things get complicated fast. What starts as a harmless favor turns into late nights, lingering touches, and the kind of tension neither of them can keep pretending about.
  5. StoriesByTroy
    When Matteo asked me to be his boyfriend, I laughed. Not because it was funny, exactly. More because I thought it had to be a joke. Matteo jokes about everything. He’s the kind of guy who flirts with waiters just to make them blush, then tips them like he’s doing penance for it. So when he leaned across the café table that morning and said, completely straight-faced, “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” I nearly spat out my espresso. He didn’t even flinch. That was my first
  6. StoriesByTroy
    When Matteo Romano, a straight Italian charmer, asks his best friend Adrian Cole to pretend to be his boyfriend,...just a simple plan to get his jealous ex off his back. But what starts as an easy favor soon turns into something far more complicated: nights that last too long, touches that linger too naturally, and a tension that neither of them can laugh away. Playing Boyfriends follows two friends who thought they were only pretending, until the lines between act and attraction blur beyon
  7. StoriesByTroy
    I woke up to the sound of snickering. Not an alarm. Not sunlight. Just two voices: low, bratty, playful; right above me. Brett and Lucas. Laughing. Grinning. Lucas tossing something small in the air and catching it like it was no big deal. Like this was any other morning in the frat house. “Rise and shine, pledge,” Brett said, already opening my drawer and pulling out a red thong. “Task three’s ready.” Lucas caught the thing he was holding and held it up: A plug. Red. Sleek. With
  8. StoriesByTroy
    Ralph stepped closer, calm as ever, like walking in on a man getting his ass eaten was just another Tuesday for him. Calvin finally lifted his head from between my cheeks; his face wet from all the drooling, beard a little messy, eyes half-lidded and looked up at him with a lazy grin. “Oh. Hey, Ralph,” he said, as if his mouth wasn’t just in my ass. “You want some of this?” He spread my cheeks wide with both hands, exposing me shamelessly. “Or you want the usual stuff?” I blinked. The
  9. StoriesByTroy
    I woke up giggling. I don’t even know why. Maybe it was the way my throat still ached. Or how my lips still felt slick. Maybe it was because I could still taste him. Jace. Jace. His cum. Jesus. I sucked off the hottest guy on campus. In my bed. And not just sucked him off, I swallowed every fucking drop. Like some obedient little pledge. I turned over, pillow still damp from sweat and spit. My jaw was sore. My ass was sore, even though he never fucked me. I was just that sens
  10. StoriesByTroy
    The old cellar door creaked of the estate open like it had secrets. Calvin reached for the light switch, but the bulb overhead flickered once and gave out, plunging us into a dim, dusty sort of silence. “Perfect,” he muttered, already stepping down the creaky wooden stairs like he owned the place. “Guess I really will have to feel around.” I followed behind him, the door groaning shut above us. The air was cooler down here, thick with the smell of oak barrels, cork, and years-old earth
  11. StoriesByTroy
    When Theo said he knew a better place, I thought maybe he meant a rooftop, or a shortcut to a lake I hadn’t heard of. Some scenic overlook where he could do that brooding thing again. I didn’t expect this. But this. This was something else entirely. We’d slipped through an alleyway just past the frat house, then ducked down a stairwell covered in graffiti and rusted flyers. It smelled faintly like sugar and dust. And then suddenly, we were standing in the middle of an old-style undergr
  12. StoriesByTroy
    By the time Calvin and I got back to the estate, my hair was only slightly less of a mess and Calvin’s smirk still hadn’t faded. He walked like a man who just got his dick sucked on a golf cart; slow, loose, satisfied. I, on the other hand, had wiped my mouth three times and still wasn’t sure if I could speak without the taste of his cock creeping up the back of my throat. My stomach was a tight knot of nerves and heat. I could still feel his cum sliding down my throat, clinging to the back
  13. StoriesByTroy
    I know right. Calvin is YUM
  14. StoriesByTroy
    Sorry it took me a while to update here. I know it has been a long gap, and I appreciate your patience. I would strongly suggest reading the story from the beginning again, since it has been spread out over a few months and a lot of details build on earlier parts. I have now completed the entire story, and it does have a clear, definitive ending. Updates will be much more frequent from here on. Thank you for sticking with it and for all the support.
  15. StoriesByTroy
    Min was already dressed when I came out of the bathroom. Black pants, cute white tee with an oversized blazer, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, hair slick and perfect like he’d walked off a Seoul fashion week runway. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping something fizzy, scrolling through his phone like the party wasn’t even worth thinking about. “Is Theo coming?” I asked, pretending like I wasn’t fishing. My shirt was still clinging to me from steam, and I was holding tw
  16. StoriesByTroy
    Now that we were alone, no groomsmen nearby, no teasing voices echoing across the green; I could finally hear how hard I was breathing. The tree gave us shade, the slope of the hill gave us privacy. The cart sat idling in the shade beside the tree, and Calvin had this look on his face again. That look like he was about to ruin me. He walked backward, casual as ever, and dropped into the driver’s seat. Legs spread wide, tattoos stretched across his forearms, the navy blue polo clin
  17. StoriesByTroy
    I still haven't planned Season 3 yet. Will start working on Season 3 soon. So, I appreciate the input!!!
  18. StoriesByTroy
    I woke up sticky. My underwear clung to me, the fabric damp and crusted in places; a clear reminder of everything Calvin had done to me last night. Everything he’d made me do. I hadn’t even gotten up to clean. Just collapsed after he turned away, aching and half-hard and buzzing with whatever the hell that had been. A message from Calvin lit up the screen, timestamped half an hour ago. Mase-boy, you slept in late, stop dreaming about me, meet me at the country club. I blinked
  19. StoriesByTroy
    Dylan's skin was hot under my fingers. That was the first thing I noticed. Not the way Dylan’s pecs strained as I peeled off his sweat-slick compression shirt. Not the way his abs flexed when I pulled the damp fabric over his head. Not even the way his eyes never left mine. Just the heat of his skin. Alive. Real. Familiar. As the shirt finally came off, time slowed for a beat. His bare chest was slick with sweat, every line of muscle catching the studio light like it was sculpted just
  20. StoriesByTroy
    And just when I think I can’t take another second, he turns. He looks straight at me. Right at my window. A slow, deliberate smirk curls across his lips like he’s proud of what he’s doing. Like this whole thing.....her bent over, the rough pace, the way her tits bounce with every thrust.....is for me. He holds my gaze. Doesn’t slow down. Just keeps fucking her. I hate him. I hate that I’m still hard. I hate that my mouth waters. I hate the way my stomach flips because I
  21. StoriesByTroy
    “Masey boy,” Calvin said again, drying his hair with the towel. “You find your bag?” I nodded, still gripping the blanket like it could hide the very obvious hard-on in my briefs. “Yeah. The staff already brought it up,” I muttered, not trusting myself to say more. My eyes flicked down once more before I could stop them. His cock was still swinging gently in those black trunks, heavy and outlined like it was half-awake and didn’t care who saw. I tried not to stare. Failed miserably. Ca
  22. StoriesByTroy
    Earlier today, Dylan had texted me. He was inviting me to his fitness shoot; some campaign with a protein brand that apparently needed a hot personal trainer to sell tubs of vanilla-flavored muscle dust. I stared at the message for maybe two minutes. Tops. Then I replied: Sure. I’ll be there. I didn’t overthink it. I didn’t even let myself think. Because if I had, I might’ve remembered how Elliot kissed me last night. How he held me after. How he called me mon amour and
  23. StoriesByTroy
    Dylan's fingers tightened around my jaw. “Keep looking at me,” he whispered. “I want you to see who’s fucking you.” I did. I watched every second of it. His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, perfectly angled to make my back arch and my toes curl. He gripped my thighs tighter, driving into me with full, unrelenting power like he was trying to fuck something out of me. Maybe my guilt. Maybe my memory of Elliot’s soft hands and gentler hips. Maybe the part of me that still didn’t know what I
  24. StoriesByTroy
    Calvin was already waiting for me in the hallway in that deep blue shirt from earlier, sleeves pushed up, collar open just enough to draw the eye. The tattoos along his forearms looked darker against the crisp fabric, like the ink itself had thickened since this morning. He leaned against the doorframe with one arm braced high, the other casually resting on his thighs. His watch caught the light. His smirk didn’t move. “You coming, Pretty Boy? Or just standing there thinking about it?”
  25. StoriesByTroy
    I shouldn’t have knocked on Dylan's door. It was late. Not midnight, but late enough that it counted. I could’ve gone home. Could’ve taken a shower. Slept. Pretended I was a normal person who hadn’t just had slow, tender, eye-contact sex with a Frenchman who called me mon amour. But no. I was here. Standing outside Dylan’s apartment like I hadn’t spent the last two hours getting my brains blown out by Elliot. The door opened fast. He didn’t say anything. Just stood there, shi
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