It was a deliberate descent, with an athlete’s control.He pulled back and down Jake’s shorts without hesitation, leaving Jake briefly wondering how many times he’d done this with other men. The reality of Bryce’s bowed back. A cold dread swept through him. Gay sex But this game, today, felt more like a war of attrition. There was nothing tentative about Bryce now; he was hungry. Not a modest girl or a weary wife, Bryce could take it. There. Truly see him. It is a work of fiction and its author does not condone, endorse, or glorify any of the depicted behaviors. A Game of Catch1.The stale scent of toast and something cloying—Bryce’s cologne—hung in the kitchen air like an insult. Where did this fucking kid get off? Jake put his weight into every throw, pushing from his dense, years-forged core, sending the ball with a force that showed he wasn’t just playing. And it was about fucking time. In the locker room, out for beers. When the sun passed its peak, their arms ached and their cheeks and noses were ruddy.Bryce had youth, but Jake had endurance. He could lie. That would make it so much better.On the counter, still, was the butter left out from breakfast.
