Jump to content

StoriesByTroy

Author
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Posts

    193

  • Joined

  • Last visited

 Content Type 

Everything posted by StoriesByTroy

  1. 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
  2. StoriesByTroy
    I still haven't planned Season 3 yet. Will start working on Season 3 soon. So, I appreciate the input!!!
  3. 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
  4. 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
  5. 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
  6. 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
  7. 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
  8. 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
  9. 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?”
  10. 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
  11. StoriesByTroy
    It’s supposed to be the happiest week of Nathan Monroe’s life - a luxury wedding at a countryside estate, surrounded by friends, family, and enough champagne to keep everyone glowing until vows are exchanged. But for Mason, the groom’s younger brother, it’s something else entirely. He’s back in town, trying to behave. Trying not to look too long at Calvin Hale - Nathan’s best friend since ages and now the best man. Mason spent years pretending he didn’t have a thing for him. Spent most
  12. StoriesByTroy
    A forbidden, slow-burn wedding saga about a mouthy younger brother and the man he was never supposed to want.
  13. StoriesByTroy
    I arrived three days before the wedding, freshly stretched from a yoga retreat that had left me calm, tan, and exactly zero percent prepared to be back here. The estate was huge; the kind of countryside property with winding gravel roads, white stone archways, and someone’s Pinterest mood board brought to life with strings of lights and overpriced flower arrangements. My brother’s fiancée was going all in. And knowing Nathan, he was probably helping her fold napkins into swans. I wasn’
  14. StoriesByTroy
    There he was. Jace. Lying behind me in my bed like he belonged there. Like this was his room, not mine. His breath was hot against the back of my neck. His body pressed up against mine, firm and solid, like every inch of him was built to make me feel smaller. “Finish what you started, pledge,” he muttered. I nodded. I was excited to have him in my bed. Then I felt it - his hand at my hip. The shift of his legs behind me. He adjusted his body, grinding forward until the thick
  15. StoriesByTroy
    Adam meant it when he said “Dude,,You have to like… blow me every single day after work.” I’m not even sure how it became routine. Monday to Friday, I gave Adam the kind of stress relief most guys only dream about. He’d get home from work around six-thirty. Still in his dress socks, tie loose, chest rising under that tight undershirt as he stood in front of the window, always in his trunks, like it was our unspoken signal. The first day, he texted: “I’m at the window.”
  16. StoriesByTroy
    Elliot's lips tasted like wine and sugar. His breath was warm against mine. I could feel the curve of his smile even while we kissed, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Like he’d been thinking about this too. When we pulled apart, he stayed close. Forehead almost against mine. “Mon cœur,” he whispered, the words like silk. I closed my eyes, breathing him in. Drowning a little. Wanting more. He brushed a hand over my cheek and stood. Slowly, he reached for my hand,
  17. StoriesByTroy
    Mornings in the flat had become their own little ritual. Min was already a creature of routine; he liked his fruit sliced a certain way, liked the blinds open exactly halfway, liked blasting soft K-pop on the speaker while he moved around the kitchen like it was a dance floor. Yuki showed up most days unannounced, barefoot in someone else's hoodie, carrying iced coffee and stories from her dorm that made Min roll his eyes and me laugh half-asleep. And me? I floated. Still figuring out how t
  18. StoriesByTroy
    The sun was too bright for how nervous I felt. I stood outside the cafe Elliot had picked, trying to act normal. My reflection in the glass door didn’t help, hair a bit too styled, shirt too carefully wrinkled, like I was trying to look like I didn’t care. I did. Obviously. I had spent the whole morning telling myself this was nothing. Just lunch. Just two guys having food. People did it all the time. And then he stepped out from inside. White shirt. Open collar. Sunglasses pushed
  19. StoriesByTroy
    Jace didn’t move. He just watched me, cool and cocky, like this was exactly how he expected tonight to go. "Sit on my lap, pledge", Jace said. I nodded. I hesitated a beat longer. Then I lowered myself onto his lap. Practically climbed on to it. His thighs were thick. Hard. His arm shifted behind my back, not quite touching me, but there...like a warning. His breath was warm at my neck. My ass rested on his jeans. I could feel my heart pounding through the fabric of the thong.
  20. StoriesByTroy
    Chris didn’t wait for a response. He grabbed my waist, pulled me up off my knees, and nudged me forward onto the bed like he was flipping me into position. My knees hit the mattress, chest still low, Adam adjusted himself on the bed and his cock was still throbbing in front of my face. I barely had time to breathe before Chris spread my thighs wider from behind. “Right there,” Chris said, voice low. “Don’t move.” And then...his mouth. Wet and hot and hungry. I flinched when I
  21. StoriesByTroy
    T is literally fresh out of high school, so emotional maturity isn’t really there yet. He’s coming out of a breakup, and when he sees someone he’s attracted to for the first time, he latches onto it as a way to cope. It might not be the smartest decision, but it feels true to where he is in life.
  22. StoriesByTroy
    Well I have written 12 chapters of this story so far. And let's just say things are going to take a drastic turn for the better.
  23. StoriesByTroy
    Thank you so much Andy! ❤️
  24. StoriesByTroy
    Min is 100% straight and has a girlfriend. Theo might pleasantly surprise you.
  25. StoriesByTroy
    I thought a new country would fix me. That was the plan. New city. New flat. New version of me who didn’t lie awake every night thinking about a boy who broke my heart without even calling it a breakup. But somehow, even in the middle of England, with clouds smothering the sky and red-bricked buildings that all look the same, I’m still thinking about Luke. The plane landed in a light drizzle. The kind that wasn’t quite rain, just mist that clung to your skin like breath. The custo
×
×
  • Create New...