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Wank Fodder

Wank Fodder

Gunner inched his face closer to the laptop until his nose almost bumped the screen. He’d turned the volume down to a whisper so that no one else in the building would know he’d been watching the same Monotony video over and over for the past hour.

The song was called “Bored” and the video, well, the video was doing things to Gunner’s libido he did not expect.

A simple concept, the clip featured hunky lead singer Horatio Slice sitting in a diner, smoking a cigarette. That was it. Just Horatio smoking a cigarette. Sucking the filtered end with his sexy lips. Exhaling smoke through his sexy lips. Blowing the occasional smoke ring through his sexy lips. Gunner squirmed on his chair and turned the volume down a little more.

“I was in a time loop of procrastination,” Horatio sang in the background.

The camera zoomed in closer. Brilliant blue eyes. Hint of razor stubble on a cleft chin. Gunner was almost aware of the hand sliding south of his waist, of the ache in his balls and the bulge in his jeans – almost. Fuck, was Monotony’s video really making him want to jerk off?

Gunner blamed his unexpected lust on the joint he’d smoked prior to his video marathon. Hunched over his desk, Horatio’s lips were right there, so close that if the screen melted away, his exhaled smoke could have floated right into Gunner’s mouth.

He licked his lips, as if expecting to taste nicotine, or maybe pot. Gunner imagined Horatio would taste like both, with a hint of whiskey or beer if their tongues happened to touch.

Wait.

Was he seriously thinking about tongue kissing Horatio Slice? Gunner leaned back from the monitor and took a deep breath, eyes locked on Horatio’s image. That smile. Those blue eyes that, thanks to a clever camera angle, appeared to be burning straight into his.

“Do you like me, Gunner?”

“Yeah,” Gunner nodded. “I do.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Gunner groaned. How far was he going with this fantasy? Fuck it, he was high and horny and he was going all the fucking way.

“Yeah.”

Nicotine rush. Hot lips. Gunner pretended the fingers lightly stroking his clothed dick were Horatio’s. Tongue kisses. If this were really happening, would he let Horatio unzip his jeans? What else would he let Horatio do? The ideas he came up with made his fingers move faster. Stroking – hard dick straining against faded Levis – he wanted to come.

Needed to come.

Smoke. Lips. A flash of tongue. Gunner’s balls swelled and sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Horatio’s T shirt was tight, showing off a sculptured chest. The table covered the bottom half of his body, but that didn’t stop Gunner from wondering what Horatio was packing. He’d heard rumors that Horatio’s dick was as big as his voice.

“It’s big, all right. Want to see it?” Imaginary Horatio asked.

“Yeah,” Gunner whispered to the screen.

“Show me yours,” Horatio said.

Gunner fumbled with the snap on his jeans. A small voice in his subconscious said “Are you going to take your dick out right now, like, for real?”

Yes, dammit, he was. He was going to take out his dick and jerk off, right in front of Horatio. Until a sound froze his blood – Steven’s keys rattling against the paper-thin door of their shared freshman dorm.

As he slammed his laptop shut and dove into his twin bunk, Gunner had the brief thought that he should really sit down and contemplate what just happened.

For now, he just pretended to be asleep.

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