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Brett's tongue and neck action takes Parker by surprise. He's massaging the underside of his glans while corkscrewing his neck like he's Stevie Wonder. It's wonderful, alright.

Parker is trying to relax, but he's teetering on the edge, definitely not wanting this to end so quickly—exactly the opposite of what Brett is going for. Parker taunts him to takes his mind off it. "What were the cups for?" Brett lifts his head to answer, but he shoves it back down. "Don't stop. Tell me while I'm in your mouth."

Brett mumbles as Parker makes a game of having him repeat himself. "What was that? It sounds like you have a cock in your mouth. Oh, right." He's known all along, but talking throws off Brett's rhythm while the vibrations keep Parker throbbing hard in his mouth.

"You were going to make me drink your piss, which" —Parker stammers through moans— "fine, I forgive you, just submit to me."

Brett shakes his head, his stubbornness is legendary. Still, it's hard for Parker to be mad while he's getting sucked off. Brett is hardly drooling this time, willfully swallowing everything Parker leaks into his greedy mouth.

Parker tries to pull away, but Brett holds on to his bony hips, not letting go. "So, you like my anteater cock then?"

He slaps Brett for not answering, earning a slight nod, but he doubts the sincerity. Brett knows he's close. He doesn't want to keep edging him and starting over—like he has for the past two hours. That's his problem.

He wrests himself free of Brett's lips. "If you want my cum, convince me." Brett stays silent. "Or I'll keep stopping you." Brett starts in a flat tone, but gets cut off. "You only get one shot, make me believe it."

Brett spits in his palm and starts working Parker's cock while staring up at him. "Please Parker, let me drink from your thick, massive... anteater cock."

Despite the tease, his face flushes more intensely than Parker's ever seen. If it's a lie, it's the best he's ever told. Those words, alone, nearly do the job, but the look on Brett's face would've won in a photo finish. He presses his tip between Brett's lips, releasing in his mouth. Brett flinches slightly as each spurt splashes the back of his throat. Parker counts ten.

"Now swallow," he demands. Brett's throat bobs. "Show me your tongue." His throat bobs again, only slower. The hard part over, Brett shows his tongue.

"I'm gunna use your shower," Brett says, awkwardly hunched over as he turns to leave.

Parker admires his flawless tan skin stretched taut over bulging muscles and the wonderful, apple bottom view over his shorts from behind until he disappears into the hall.

While he's gone, Parker sends the webcam footage to his online friends. Since they don't know Brett, it's a contingency plan without risking exposure.

When Brett returns, Parker tells him to strip and bend over. "Don't deny you've earned this."

"No way." Brett's eyes widen in shock. "You're not fucking me!"

Parker laughs. "Not until you beg for it, which you will one day."

Brett smirks, certain that day will never come, incredulous as always. Parker pulls him down on all fours and strips him. He doesn't resist. Parker loves touching him, controlling him. Brett's briefs are mostly dry, but there's a spot on them not quite damp enough to draw conclusions, given the shower. Parker tosses them aside.

"Arch your back," he commands. Brett obeys, albeit reluctantly.

Parker smacks him hard on the ass. "Nineteen, count them down, so I'll know when to stop." He smacks him again.

"Eighteen," Brett mutters as he covers himself up. "So, you don't hit me in the balls."

The awkward explanation should've came as suspicious, but Parker is too busy enjoying himself. "Louder!" he shouts, reeling back further.

"Seventeen." Brett sucks his teeth.

Parker takes his time, marveling at the pink hand print of raised skin he's left behind. The next smack is much harder.

"Sixteen!"

"There you go," Parker says, kissing his bruised cheek. Another smack, harder still.

"Fifteen!" Brett's loudest yet.

Parker's kisses veer closer to his pinched hole. It's tight, peach and uniquely inviting. He's happy to reward a bitch who's done well. By the time he's through spanking, Brett is relaxed and he's tongue deep inside of him, a pleasure his groans are unable to deny. To Parker's disappointment, his cock is semi-hard, at best. Then again, he did take awhile in the shower.

The night ends with Brett, in Parker's arms, as his little spoon. Parker's hard cock, warming Brett's inner thighs—an act he reluctantly accepts over having his holes filled with cock. Parker tempts him by mentioning an end date to their arrangement, so they lay in bed, hammering out details of a contract.

Brett trades away 'his right to cum' for 'no one can ever know'. A trade he likely believes will be held on his dubious honor.

Enter, chastity belt, unknowingly.

Sadly, Parker trades away 'any chances of making out or kissing' (since apparently that's what makes a man officially gay) for 'full blowjobs on demand'. They settle on between the hours of 8PM - 4AM.

There are dozens of other compromises, but most notably, Brett agrees to call him 'Master' when they're alone in exchange for 'not getting fucked' (unless he begs for it) and...

It takes Brett forever but, he says, "I wouldn't you know, mind doing the, uh... what you did earlier."

"Uh, which part?" Parker asks.

"Either."

Parker flashes a sly grin behind his back. "I will," he squeaks, "if you're bad or whenever you've earned it, of course."

"Of course."

They agree to end the contract at the end of football season. Brett, stunned, asks, "Why would you agree, knowing it could be over in three days?"

Parker says, "It won't be. Most times, I really don't like you, but I always believe in you."

———

The days leading up to the state semifinals went about as good as they could've, for Parker. With Brett only a house away, he was on call several times a night between the agreed upon hours. All Parker has to do is shoot him a text and walk out to his back porch whenever he wants to well, shoot.

Parker writes, , at 3:59AM. He doesn't bother waiting for a response nor does he expect one. Brett knows better than not to show up. His big game is later today, he won't risk throwing it away now, not after he's sucked ten loads out of Parker.

Yes, it's only been two days since blowy number two, but you know that whole thing about new toys, especially one he could lose if Brett doesn't win his football game.

Parker comes out on his deck naked below the waist and Brett is there, waiting on his knees, ready for him to walk into his mouth. His skill at sucking cock is getting embarrassing for both of them.

Parker asks mockingly, "Are you ready for my uncut cock again, bitch?" Brett cringes, but opens his mouth and lets Parker slip inside. "Fuck, your mouth is warm. I feel like I could melt already."

Brett mumbles something that has the cadence of "shut the fuck up."

"Yeah, keep humming like that," Parker says, laughing, "I wish you'd just admit it already, you love sucking Master's superior cock. Is that so hard?"

Brett spits on his hand and starts working Parker's cock. "Just hurry up and cum, uh Master."

Parker lurches forward, nearly there. "No hands, that's cheating!"

Brett lets his hands fall to his sides, but the damage is done. Parker quivers as he tries his best to keep from blowing. He won't admit it, but once is enough for a day. The rest are to keep Brett around as long as he can.

"You're adorable when you look up at me," Parker says, knowing it will throw him off, and it does. Now, he might hold on a minute longer. "I like when you grab my hips, too." No response. "If you do, I'll cum down your throat so you won't taste it."

Suddenly, Brett can't grab those bone daggers fast enough. He pulls Parker's hips into him, not-so-covertly grabbing more ass than hip, but neither of them mind. Parker stands on tiptoes as he tenses up, making his usual cumming noise as he pushes down Brett's throat. It's very close to the sound you'd expect from an actor, sliding downhill on ice.

"You lucky bitch," Parker says, "My balls are on your chin right now, so I'm probably cumming in your stomach."

Brett waits patiently for Parker's cock to stop pulsing out cum, then withdraws. Rather than give Parker the satisfaction of giving the order, he licks, sucks and squeezes his cock clean. As he stands up, Parker reaches for his crotch, but Brett slaps his hand away and starts walking back to his house.

"Love you," Parker calls out to his back.

Brett shows him the finger without looking back. While Parker says that patronizingly, he likes saying it. He's even imagined adding I and meaning it one day. The Brett in that fantasy never fed him a urinal cake drenched in piss or fucked his mom into abandoning her family though.

———

The Jackson High Bobcats have time for one more play. They're down 27-28 in a game that has been an absolute barn burner.

The game is in Brett's hands as he drops back and sees his top receiver, wide open in the end zone. He's impressed scouts all game, so college is a lock, but this is for bragging rights.

All he has to do is connect on a pass he's thrown hundreds of times to send his team to their first ever state finals. Both nothing and everything is on the line here.

Parker watches from the stands, on the edge of his seat. Making it to the state finals means Brett will never have greater motivation to be his slave, to be locked up in the belt that arrived this morning.

The problem?

Brett knows the first part as much as he does.

Brett Manning throws a tight spiral that grazes a defender's fingertips and hangs in the air. It's intercepted at the one yard line with no time left on the clock. Jackson High Center, Melvin Freeborn, tackles the defender into the end zone for a safety.

Jackson High Bobcats win 29-28!!