Cruising on Christmas

Chapter 1

Chapter 1Whenever people were around me, especially my big and loud extended family, they assumed I was the shy and quiet type stuck to a book or a computer like a total geek. Well, they kind of weren’t wrong. I was a little shy in public groups, but definitely not in private orgies. I was quiet about my private life to everyone but the guys I f****d around with. I read gay erotica and watched gay porn on both my phone and my computer. I was a geek when it came to s*x-related topics, including kinks and taboos. So, yeah, they weren’t wrong with their assumptions at all. They just didn’t know on what level.

That was why I’d decided to cruise on Christmas for the first time in my s*x life after having always respected the holiday as a family thing. Last year, I’d had at least one different hookup each day for three hundred and sixty-four days, January 1 to December 31, and some of those days with more than one guy. Of course, it meant I’d had to travel out of state a few times when I’d run out of local choices. It’d been a s*x challenge of mine that I’d posted about on my popular blog called “Adam and His Slutty Steves,” like a public diary but anonymous. I’d been so sexed out right after that unique experience that I’d been celibate for a whole month, the longest time I’d ever gone without s*x, because even sluts needed a break once in a while.

This year, however, I’d break my tradition and have s*x on Christmas as my next s*x challenge, with plans to post about it tomorrow. I’d named it the Christmas c**k Challenge, or C3 for short. I wanted it to be with someone beautiful and special to create a fond memory, not just any typical hottie. It had to be an epic experience with someone so unforgettable that I’d remember him forever, unlike all my past hookups I’d already forgotten about. I’d posted a countdown on the first day of the month to create some hype for my thousands of followers. I was so horny from the anticipation of it that if Santa jumped through a chimney at midnight, I’d give him my own leche instead of the milk from the fridge, as well as my bubble buns fresh from the oven instead of some measly cookies. f**k, I hadn’t had s*x or even come in exactly one week as my way of saving an epic load for the occasion. The downfall was that I felt the torturous pressure to release my load hitting me harder and harder by the day.

Okay, so I was a major slut, and an unapologetic one at that. Hey, I was a medium-built jock who was hot as f**k with a deep and sexy voice, and I looked like a f*****g Euro model, so why not take advantage of it? I’d tried the “love” thing a few times, only to get burned in the process by falling way too fast and trusting way too easily when it came to the right guy, each and every time like an “instalove” fool. Love hurt like a motherfucker, but lust hurt even better. No strings at all anymore except for the ones on a fetish underwear I had somewhere in my room. At only twenty-two, I’d been having s*x since twelve, starting back when I’d cruised the beaches of Puerto Rico, so I knew my s**t in the world of intimacy. f**k, I’d even published a lengthy blog post celebrating my ten-year s*x anniversary months ago, not that I remembered the specific date or anything, of course.

At Juanito Roldan’s spacious apartment in the outskirts of downtown Detroit, I lounged on the black leather couch next to the tall Christmas tree in the goth-inspired living room. I tried to tune out the f*****g going on in his room for his latest OnlyFans video. They must’ve been super loud if I could still hear them through the dark rock music playing in the background. As soon as I heard, “f**k your little elf with that big daddy d**k, Santa!” I knew it was yet another tiny twink. Well, tiny compared to Juanito, anyway.

Bored of waiting, I opened each of the gay apps I was on. I sighed at the tons of messages from the ones I’d already hooked up with and the ones I wouldn’t touch with someone else’s c**k. I frequently refreshed the image thumbnails of local men online, but they showed nothing new or interesting as usual. Been there, done that, and plenty of f**k-no’s to block. If only the pic-less ones could be hot. Nine times out of ten, they weren’t, and it always felt like playing a scratch-and-win with way more losses than wins. I’d even updated my photos, with my brown hair slicked back and my bedroom eyes staring back seductively.

I shifted my focus on work and wondered how my employees were handling the pizzeria with the limited Christmas hours. I was still a little concerned about the new college kid not doing his job the way he should’ve been doing. I couldn’t afford to fire anyone until January because of the holidays. I was lucky to have a great assistant manager who handled everything for me on my days off, even though she didn’t work today.

After more minutes of boredom, Juanito’s room grew silent, and I figured they were finishing up. Finally! The door to my right flew open, and out came a blond twink with a shy smile that couldn’t fool anyone, probably a slut like many of the others. Since he was on the shorter and scrawnier side, it made me extra curious about how he’d look paired with Juanito’s giant self that made my tallish height seem short. He grabbed his coat and left.

Juanito finally came out toward me, wearing nothing but a devil-printed pair of black boxer shorts that suited his tattoos, piercings, and short mohawk, always looking sexy as f**k. He dropped his big ass on the other single couch across from me, the sofa to my left in between us where the window was. He blew a hard breath of exhaustion while damp with sweat. “That Santa outfit f*****g made me sweat fast,” he said in his deep and throaty voice that never failed to seduce me, like a smoker’s voice without being a smoker. “But damn, what a hot f**k. Kinky as s**t, too. He played as my little elf for the Christmas special and he already wants a f*****g Santa Claus series with me, that horny little slut, so we’ll see.” He shook his head with a proud smile that I could relate to. He grabbed the remote from the glass coffee table that separated us and turned on some music at a low volume.

“Ugh, Marilyn Manson?” I whined. “Can’t you ever play something else when I’m here?”

“I’m not playing that reggaeton shit.”

“I listen to pop and dance music, too. More than reggaeton, actually.”

“Nope, f**k all that. My music or no music.”

I sighed and shifted my focus back to Juanito’s OnlyFans side career. “You know, you should start charging extra for your videos now that you’re in the, what, top three percent? Psh, you’re f*****g famous, so why not?”

“Nah, you know my fans would whine about that s**t. Besides, I like to be generous since I already have a damn-good day job.”

“When are you going to upload the one you just did, puta, I wanna see it.” I’d jacked off to every one of his hundreds of videos over the past few years under his BigBoriJock name. He f****d only skinny twinks in his videos to carry on the size-difference theme he was known for, since he was super tall and buff versus short and skinny twinks. But he actually loved jocks with big asses as well, body hair or not, and the occasional hot daddy. I wasn’t into skinny twinks at all, maybe borderline twinks on the athletic side, but I got off on watching Juanito destroy their holes with his nine inches of thick man meat. At almost thirty, the age difference made his videos even hotter. He was also famous for coming multiple times in every video because of his short refractory periods, so those twink holes ended up with so much c*m inside. With his coo-and-nod tease as his other famous shtick, where he dominantly asked rhetorical s****l questions and nodded at them while expecting submissive responses, he was an expert at seduction.

We’d f****d around many times, just like with all my hot jock friends of varying ages and colors, including the straight ones who were super gay in the bedroom. There wasn’t a single friend in my big circle I hadn’t at least tried out once, like choosing different flavors of Skittles. c**k was c**k and ass was ass. Well, within reason, of course.

Juanito chuckled, rolling his eyes. “f**k, man, let me rest up a bit. s**t. I’ll do it later. And when are you gonna be my next victim on cam with that hot ass and big d**k? You know I’m always willing to break my theme for you as a special guest.”

“Never, for the millionth time.”

“f*****g wimpshit. You’re missing out.”

“Nope. I’m shy as f**k for that and I love my privacy, thank you very much. It’s why I never did modeling because my pics would be everywhere. I upload my pics only to hookup apps and that’s it, since I have no choice.”

“Dude, I keep telling you we can do close-up or POV so nobody but me will get to see your beautiful face and pretty lips.” He was always so hopeful, the poor thing.

“And the answer is still ‘no.’ Keep trying so I can keep rejecting your offer. You’re never going to get a ‘yes’ out of me with that, so quit wasting your time.” I wasn’t annoyed, though. I was used to it.

“Fine, whatever,” Juanito muttered, rolling his eyes.

The moment finally came, my main reason for visiting. I dug through my jeans pocket while still seated, pulled out my small Christmas present in the form of an unwrapped jewelry gift box, and handed it to him with a warm smile. He was the only friend I still gifted every year because I was a cheap ass with the others. Just he and my immediate family got goodies from me. “Merry Christmas, you horny fuck.”

Juanito gasped like the big softie he was on the inside when around me, albeit a little dramatically this time. His eyes were immediately misty. “Yes, I’ll marry you, you f*****g w***e!”

I laughed. “Please, you’ll f**k the priest right after we say I do.”

“If he’s hot, f**k yeah.”

I waited for him to open the gift.

His eyes widened as he pulled out the thick ring that had a dark-silver finish and a heart-shaped black onyx in the center. It probably looked more like a gothic wedding band, but I knew he’d like that style. He made a blank face while staring at it, not saying a word, and I wasn’t sure if he was surprised or confused or what.

My heart raced a little, and I felt like I had to explain myself. “Before you freak out on me, no, it’s not a wedding ring. It’s a bond ring, and because you’re my best friend and like family to me, I chose you as my match for the set.”

Juanito’s eyes were a bit misty, but he blinked a few times. “Set?”

“Yeah, because I have one, too.” I pulled out my smaller one from the same pocket and slipped it on my finger, gently waving my left hand at him and forming a warm smile on my face. “Put yours on.”

He slipped his on for a perfect fit, and after studying his left hand while wearing the ring, his eyes were misty all over again. “Wow. Two matching rings. For us.”

“Well, there’s actually three,” I added. “But my other one came out a little too small and tight for my finger, so the store let me order the right size for a really nice complimentary discount. It was either that or get it resized, but for some reason, I still wanted to keep the other one. Not sure why, but I just did.”

Juanito lifted himself off the sofa and circled around the coffee table to get on his knees in front of me, and he rested his head on my lap. “f**k, man, you’re a true amigo.” His voice cracked with emotion. “The best ever.”

“Don’t f*****g cry on me, you big puta.” Of course, I let him cry anytime he wanted.

It took just seconds for him to do so, and I repeatedly stroked the side of his face until my fingers were wet from his tears. I was the only one who got to see him like that because of our deep bond. He was more than just my best friend; he was family. I was his only real family left after he’d been disowned by his family from Puerto Rico for being both gay and a Satanist back when he used to practice the religion. He’d become an atheist over the years and didn’t care about religion anymore.

Since I’d met Juanito at eighteen, we’d laughed and cried together all the time, we’d hung out at all kinds of places and had taken many road trips, and we’d f****d each other’s brains out with lots of passionate kisses. I was the only one he made love to while he was rough with everyone else.

Had he been the monogamous type, we’d have already been married, since I didn’t share s**t when in a relationship. I’d fallen too hard for him like a foolish schoolboy by the time I’d turned nineteen. Even though he’d felt the same way, he’d still rejected me multiple times for wanting to be boyfriends because he couldn’t have promised fidelity, and he’d loved me too much to hurt me.

I still insisted to myself that it had everything to do with Juanito’s first and only boyfriend of many years, before I’d met him. He defensively denied it in an indirect way like not wanting to lie to me while also not wanting to admit it. Oddly enough, he’d once implied being open to a three-person relationship over the past summer, which had given me a tiny bit of hope, so who knew?

Juanito sniffled a few times and looked up at me with his bearded chin on one of my knees, a tiny smile playing on his lips. I knew exactly what he wanted, always so f*****g horny. “Alexito, dame el culito!” he singsonged, which translated to him telling me to give him my “little” ass, mostly for the rhyme.

I sighed, feeling a little guilty already. It didn’t help that the pressure in my balls threatened to make me want to jack off in his mouth the way he loved it. “As much as I really want to, papi, I can’t, sorry. Gotta save my load for the epic hookup today.”

Juanito rolled his eyes. “I forgot about that. God, you’re such a crazy and cocky-ass puta. What if you don’t find someone by midnight?” He pursed his lips to stifle a giggle. “You’ll turn into calabaza podrida.”

A rotten pumpkin, indeed. But I smiled with confidence. “I will find someone, though. I earned my slut status, you jealous fuck.”

“Oh, please. I’ll get there eventually.”

“Yeah, eventually. Keep making those f**k videos and you just might.” I smirked.

Juanito let out a deep breath and got serious again. “Te quiero, puta.”

“Love you, too.” I pinched his cheek in a motherly way and gave him a warm smile. Friends came and went all the time, but never family. We’d always have each other no matter what happened. We’d survived plenty of petty fights of all sizes, and here we were, still the best of friends. If only we could be more.