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TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
TL;DR RULES1. post anonymously unless linking to a fill posted somewhere else ( Read more... )
Weilian was thick and stocky and a head shorter than Zitao despite of being two grades ahead, but Zitao was mesmerized by the dark curls of hair of hair between his legs, surrounding the base of a broad shaft leading up to its small mushroom head. He watched the way Weilian's meaty fingers gripped his cock tightly, aiming so that the arch of his piss lands against the wall of the urinal, and felt the stirrings of half-disgust half-something else.
“What?” Weilian asked when he noticed the staring and hurriedly stuffed himself back into his pants, suddenly unconscious. Zitao shook his head, turning away.
At 13, Zitao went back to class and forgot about it. At 18, he breaks open, overflowing like a dam.
It's one of those demonstration days in his dance class, when the older trainees show the newbies basic beginner routines everyone learns. Today, the instructor calls over a boy with tanned skin and sleepy eyes. Zitao has seen him around often, but he doesn't learn his name. The boy never talks to Zitao, always surrounded by his small group of friends.
The boy is a great dancer. His body is suddenly rigid, then fluid, as if the bones of his body shifts to the rhythm of the music. Zitao is envious, both of the boy's skills and the female trainees sigh longingly at every smirk from the pretty, plump pout of his mouth.
They runs into each other in the locker room. The boy says something to Zitao, too quickly for him to catch. Zitao tries to pull words together from his memory of biweekly Korean lessons into something to say, anything, but the boy is already turning away, shrugging out of his t-shirt.
Zitao has seen a lot of boys in all shapes and sizes naked from months spent at the dorm, but there's something different about the way the boy's broad shoulders stretches and bunches with his movements. His arms are lean but each dip of muscle is defined when he raises them over his head. There's sweat gathered the small of his back, down into where his sweats clings to his ass and thighs. Suddenly there's a monstrous urge, and Zitao sucks in a breath, unable to keep himself from taking one step closer.
There are eyes are on him instantly. Zitao freezes, possessed but the gaze, mixed with curiosity and something else frighteningly familiar, but then the boy's lips move and it's all Zitao needed to flee.
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do you think you'll continue this?
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