It was eleven at night. After a deep six-hour sleep, I finally stirred awake in a drowsy haze. The room was pitch black, the only light coming from the faint glow of the air conditioner’s temperature display. I stretched and rolled over, unexpectedly bumping into the person lying beside me. He was shirtless—definitely not Duy Long or Ngọc Lễ. That left only one possibility: the guy who’d brought me home that afternoon, Trọng Quân.
I’d assumed Trọng Quân would drop me off and head back to the second round of drinking, but apparently he’d used “taking me home” as an excuse to skip the rest of the boozy chaos altogether. Made sense, really. The kid hits the gym religiously; letting a bunch of drunkards drag him out night after night would undo all that hard work. As for my two roommates, god knows where they’d ended up, but I wasn’t worried—Thế Sang and his wife would take care of them.
But why hadn’t Trọng Quân gone home to sleep? Too drunk? Or… did he have other plans? If he’d wanted to do something to me, he could’ve done it while I was dead to the world.
He might not have wanted anything, but right then I definitely wanted something from him. I deliberately scooted closer, pressing my back against him to see if he’d react. The moment I moved, he spoke up: “You’re awake?”
No tears fell, but the game was over. I couldn’t pretend to still be asleep. “Yeah, just woke up,” I said. “Hey, how come you’re sleeping here?”
He stayed in the same position and answered calmly, “I did bring you home, after all. Gotta collect my reward before I leave.”
I clicked my tongue. “Well, well! Look at you, scheming little thing. I didn’t realize you were this calculating. So what kind of reward do you want?”
He mumbled shyly, “Can I… hug you?”
I laughed. “Sure. That’s all?”
Before either of us could say more, he immediately rolled over and wrapped his arms around me from behind. Down below, he was already rock hard—I could feel that thick rod pressing against my back the instant he pulled me close. “Yeah,” he said. “Just that.”
I teased, “If you wanted to hug me, why didn’t you do it while I was asleep?”
“That wouldn’t count,” he replied. “It has to be proper like this.”
“Happy now? And why are you pointing a gun at my back?”
He laughed softly. “Ignore it. Natural reflex when you’re lying next to your crush.”
I was a little surprised—not that he had a crush on me (I’d suspected), but that he’d admit it straight to my face. “Just laying it all out there, huh? Does that mean the crush is over?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “After today, I won’t crush on you anymore. Because I know… the person you carry in your heart will never change.”
I reached back and stroked his hair. “How do you know?”
“At the party today, I saw the way you looked at Tuấn. Only someone deeply in love looks like that. I realized no matter how long I liked you, nothing would come of it. So I figured I’d tell you now—while you’re still single—and at least get one hug out of it.”
I chuckled. “And you thought I’d say yes just because I’m single?”
“Hào told me,” he admitted. “He said if I begged enough, you’d give in.”
I was half amused, half annoyed. When did I become such an easy mark? “So, anything else you want? Go on, beg.”
He hesitated. “Nah… I shouldn’t push my luck.”
What I liked most about Trọng Quân was his honesty. No flowery words, no calculated seduction—just pure sincerity that put you completely at ease.
I turned over to face him, my face pressing into his bare chest. All that gym time really paid off; there wasn’t an ounce of fat—just firm, sculpted pecs that felt both soft and hard against my cheek. “Do whatever you want,” I said. “I’m allowing it. If it’s too much, I’ll tell you to stop.”
I don’t even know why I said something so shameless—it only reinforced the “easy” reputation. But Trọng Quân was so genuine, almost innocently naïve. I’m no saint; I’m just a regular guy with desires, and I wanted to indulge this sweet, earnest kid.
He’d been hard the whole time, getting even stiffer. I reached down and gripped his cock through his underwear. He flinched slightly. “Don’t like it?” I asked.
“No… it’s just… no one’s ever touched me there before…”
That single sentence turned me on more than any dirty talk ever could. Every inch of him was sensitive; he lay there tense and excited, letting me explore but too nervous to reciprocate. I couldn’t tell if he was pretending, but in the heat of the moment he seemed far shyer than when he jerked off alone.
I took his hand and placed it on my own erection, then guided it to my ass. “Like this? Or this?”
Ever honest, he answered, “Both.”
I burst out laughing—it was too much fun teasing him. I slipped his hand inside my underwear. “Can you make me feel good?”
That seemed to flip a switch. He gripped me firmly, even yanked my underwear off to stroke me freely. I did the same, freeing the beast in his briefs. Just as I’d glimpsed through the glass door before—over fifteen centimeters, not super long but thick and perfectly round. It felt amazing in my hand. A few strokes and his breathing already changed.
Since my face was buried in his chest, I playfully flicked my tongue across a nipple. His whole body trembled lightly, breath coming faster. I sucked hard, occasionally grazing with my teeth. He only dared moan quietly, but his cock throbbed harder and his grip on me tightened.
I kept sucking his nipple while jerking him off; the pleasure overwhelmed him and soft whimpers escaped. One of his arms circled behind me, caressing gently. Every so often his fingers threaded through my hair, tugging lightly whenever I sucked harder.
When I’d had enough of his chest, I pushed him flat on his back—his cock pointing straight up. I slid down, buried my nose under his balls and inhaled deeply, then licked along his groin, over his balls, up the base of his shaft all the way to the head. I took the tip into my mouth and held it. He arched his back; clearly this was his first time being touched there.
I swallowed him to the root in one go and held for five or ten seconds. He squirmed and writhed—used to jerking off but never blown, the sensation was probably an overwhelming mix of pleasure and ticklishness. I pulled off and asked, “Too much? Ticklish?”
He answered honestly, “A little… How’d you know?”
I smiled. “Everyone’s ticklish their first blowjob. Want me to stop?”
I was teasing, but he took it seriously. “No! Please keep going—I promise I won’t be ticklish anymore!”
I found it both endearing and hilarious—he couldn’t control that. I rolled onto my back beside him. He panicked, thinking he’d ruined the mood: “Are you mad? I don’t know why it tickled! I’m sorry…”
I reached down to check—he’d actually gone soft. I ruffled his hair. “Just wait a bit till the sensitivity calms down; then it’ll feel better.”
He hugged me tightly, visibly relieved. “Really? You scared me!”
As we spoke, he hardened again, and so did I. He mimicked me, sliding down to take me in his mouth. His teeth grazed me now and then, making me jump, but the clumsy innocence made me smile. He tried deep-throating and ended up gagging, pulling off immediately.
I laughed. “Don’t be greedy when you’re new at this.”
“I saw you do it so easily,” he said. “Didn’t realize it’d make me gag so bad… Or maybe it’s because mine’s short?”
I pulled him up, cupped his cheeks. “Don’t be insecure. Yours is perfect—length is just for show. Yours fills the throat nicely without being uncomfortable. Trust me, stop thinking negative.”
“Really?” he asked.
I guided his head to rest on my chest, stroking him gently. “Yeah. You’re above average—no reason to feel bad.”
After a while I pushed him back down and took him in my mouth again. This time he didn’t writhe as wildly; he was getting used to it. He even lightly gripped my hair, guiding me. But I still held back—I’d go all out once he was ready.
When I paused, he asked, “Why stop? It really feels good now, I’m not faking…”
“I know,” I said. “But be patient. If I go hard now you’ll come too fast.”
We lay there talking a bit longer. I prefer drawn-out sessions over quick ones anyway. Eventually I asked, “When did you start liking me?”
“Right when I moved into the dorm,” he said. “But I fell hard after Hào told me about you blowing him.”
I clicked my tongue. “Knew that kid couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Then why no moves back then?”
“I did make moves—you just didn’t notice. Whenever you changed to go out, I’d grab your used underwear, sniff it, and jerk off. Almost came in them once—nearly died thinking you’d find out.”
I knew about that—not just knew, I’d seen it. “Scared of getting caught, yet here you are confessing everything?”
“After everything tonight,” he said, “I’ve smelled every part of you already. Figured you wouldn’t be mad now.”
I pinched his cheek, laughing. “Naughty boy. Time for punishment.”
I slid down, gave a few light strokes until he was fully hard and glistening, then took him deep and sucked fiercely—tight mouth, tongue swirling the slit, rapid circles around the head. My free hand found a nipple and pinched.
He tensed, head thrown back, breathing through his mouth. “Now I know… why Hào… keeps talking about you… So good… fuck…”
He grabbed my hand from his nipple and sucked my two longest fingers hard—matching my intensity on his cock. But when I went all out, he released them and begged: “Slow down… please… don’t… I’m not ready to come yet…”
I’ve always been the same: the more someone begs, the harder I go. Being his first blowjob made him extra sensitive. He tried pushing my head away but had no strength—either too overwhelmed or too blissed out to really want me to stop.
Suddenly he tensed, planted his hands on the bed, and used the last of his strength to sit up and pull out. But I wasn’t letting him escape—I followed wherever his cock went. He lay, I sucked; he sat, I still sucked.
He leaned back against the wall, panting. I knew he was close and gave everything for the final stretch. A few more seconds and he gripped my shoulder lightly, nails digging in. His cock swelled to maximum and started pulsing, shooting thick, warm loads into my mouth. Because he was so deep, and there was so much, I couldn’t swallow fast enough—some leaked from the corners of my lips.
He tried pulling my head up; I resisted until he’d emptied completely. Only then did I release him. He immediately cupped under my mouth and urged, “Spit it out—quick!”
I’d already swallowed everything. I opened my mouth to prove it. “Why spit?”
He blinked. “Wait—you swallowed?!”
Hearing me speak normally, he realized it was all gone. Under the dim light his expression was a mix of joy and panic. “You okay with that?”
“Of course,” I said. “Didn’t want me to?”
“I did… I just didn’t want you to feel grossed out.”
He gestured for me to lie back—he wanted to return the favor until I came. But knowing his current skill level, he’d probably scrape me raw. So I told him to suck my nipples and jerk me off instead.
A few minutes later I came without warning, shooting ropes across my stomach. He lowered his head to lick it up, but I stopped him and pulled him back up. “Don’t— you’ll gag again.”
“How come you could swallow mine?”
“If it shoots in the mouth, swallowing’s fine. On the skin, better to wipe. The smell isn’t great.”
“You know everything,” he said. “No wonder even a hotshot like Hào can’t get over you.”
I ruffled his hair. “Hungry? Let’s go cook some instant noodles, then sleep till morning.”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want morning to come. I don’t want this rare chance to touch you to end so soon.”
I’d already cleaned myself up. I got out of bed and headed downstairs, saying over my shoulder, “Good boys get rewarded with round two.”
The words barely left my mouth before I heard thundering footsteps racing down the stairs after me.
Trọng Quân was the least skilled person who’d ever blown me, but he was also the most honest. After that night, he’d occasionally take me out on his motorbike, then find excuses to crash at the dorm. Nhật Hào was both furious and regretful for ever telling Trọng Quân about me. Within two or three months, Trọng Quân’s technique improved dramatically—I almost suspected that “first time” had been an act.
But what made me happiest was that all three of us—me, Trọng Quân, and Nhật Hào—understood the boundaries of our ambiguous arrangement. We enjoyed each other but respected personal lines. They both knew Hoàng Tuấn was the knot in my heart that would never untie, so neither dreamed of anything serious. Who knows what the future holds? For now, we’re just happy.