Since start of term, Carter has been secretly lusting after Zack, a quiet twink with smooth arms, geeky charm, and enticing proportions. When Zack invites himself over for retro video games, Carter waits and hopes, but the dreaded "game over" approaches. He has to do something -- anything -- to get a shot at tasting this delicious young man.

Out comes a strategy to save a gaming disaster. If Carter's wrong, he might get a black eye, but if he's right, then this session's about to level up to something better than his wildest fantasy.

Gaymer is a 3,900-word short story.

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“We’ve got to turn this around,” Zack says. He picks up his controller and gives the level another try.

Now I’m watching him and only him. I chew my lip, captivated by his gorgeous face, his rosy cheeks, his brown eyes behind his geeky glasses. God, he’s smoking hot, every bit of him.

Zack loses another life, and the game switches back to me. “You’re down to your last guy. After this, it’s over.”

Yeah, after this it’s over—both the game and Zack sitting next to me. Soon I’ll be alone, jacking off, wiping up my load with a pathetic wad of Kleenex. A cold sweat breaks out on my forehead.

I hit pause.

Zack looks at me. His lips are moist after a fresh swig of pop. He looks so innocent, but his brown eyes gleam with something else…

My heart thumps. “I…”

Zack waits, doesn’t say a thing.

Fuck, this better work. “I have this fantasy.”

His lips part, glistening wet—plump, delectable lips. “What kind of fantasy?”

“I’ve…” Fuck, do it Carter. Do it! “I’ve always wanted to get blown while playing a video game. It’s weird, I know, but…”

He doesn’t reply. He just stares at me.

I chuckle awkwardly. “I’m just kidding, but, I mean…who knows? I’ve heard it works, on the internet…uhh…something like that. It’s supposed to relax you. But, uh, I don’t mean you have to blow me, I’m just saying it might work, or…fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying. It was supposed to be funny. Forget I said anything.”

Zack’s staring at me like he’s figuring out the quickest path to the door. He adjusts his glasses again, cheeks darkening with a blush. “If I blow you, then you have to blow me on my turn.”

I run through those words, over and over, trying to figure out if I misheard or if I’m missing the sarcasm or something. The more I replay the sentence, though, the clearer it becomes that Zack is serious. My cock leaks, my cheeks warm with their own blush, and my pulse pounds in my ears. I try to force everything down, to appear cool and calm, as if I hadn’t been dreaming of this moment for weeks now.


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