Teaching My (Frat) Brother To Shave... His Balls — Chapter 3 [Finale]

Everyone is 18.

Chapter 3: Poker Night [Finale]

We showed up together.

Taylor had banged me that morning. There was no other way to say it, no way to clean it up or walk it back. I wasn’t sure what we were anymore. Still (frat) brothers, obviously. Still playing it off like nothing had changed. But something had. Something deep in the way he looked at me when he handed me a water bottle before we left. Something in the way his hand lingered on my shoulder just a beat too long as we stepped out the door.

His gym bag was slung over one shoulder. “You alright?” he asked on the walk over.

“Yeah,” I lied.

We reached Jimmy's house just after eight. The front door was already open, laughter spilling out into the night air. The living room had been converted into a makeshift poker den, with a beat-up table in the center, folding chairs, mismatched lamps, and six guys lounging around like it was their shared dorm.

All of them were teens, eighteen to be exact. Most were pale, but athletic in different ways. One guy I recognized as Jimmy, had the build of a swimmer, long and lean with a carved V at his waist. My stomach turned remembering the video I had seen of his ass the night before, getting stuffed by Taylor. 

Another guy I didn’t recognize was more of a wrestler type, lean but top-heavy, and thick-armed, his pecs rising and falling with shallow breaths. A third guy looked like he belonged on a track team, wiry but tight, legs like springs. Two of them were shirtless, glistening in the warm air. Their skin shimmered faintly under the lamp light, chests rising and falling with each laugh or shout. Not a single body hair in sight, like they were all born from the same smooth mold. I finally understood why Taylor found my body hair so fascinating.

"Where are your parents?" I asked Jimmy.

"They're gone for the weekend, so I'm hosting this one. And last night's too," he said, giving a side eye to Taylor, who smirked back at him.

“Yo!” someone called out. “It’s the brothers!”

Taylor threw up a peace sign. “Told you he’d come.”

I kept my head low, pretending not to notice the way they all looked me over. Some with curiosity, some with that cocky “we’ve heard about you” grin. I wasn’t sure what Taylor had told them. Probably everything.

I took the open seat next to him. One guy passed me a drink. Another shoved a pile of chips my way.

“We play Texas Hold ’Em,” the guy across from me said. “Losers do a dare and strip. First to get naked gets the full treatment.”

“House tradition,” Taylor added, smirking.

I shuffled my cards. My hands were a little shaky. Maybe from the cold soda. Maybe from the younger wrestler guy’s knee pressing lightly against mine under the table.

The first hand went fast. I folded early, still learning the vibe. The guy to my left lost and had to take off his shirt. I didn’t have to strip even though I folded. I honestly never really learned what constituted the “loser” of a round, but they just agreed on one person stripping after each hand. The next round, someone dared Joey to do ten pushups with a guy sitting on his back. To my surprise, he did it. He sat back down, sweaty as hell, and removed his shirt.

By the third round, everyone had loosened up, shouting over each other, the tension rising with every bet. More shirts came off. Then pants. Socks. Bit by bit, the layers disappeared. Before long, most of us were down to our underwear.

The warm air and the dares had us all flushed. I couldn’t help noticing the outlines. Bulges. Taylor’s was the most obvious. Bigger than the rest. Some blood flow from the excitement clearly showing.

I could tell Jimmy was trying to lose, bluffing and betting big, but somehow he kept beating me. Every time I thought I had a hand, he pulled out something better.

Then he upped the ante. Grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. Suddenly, porn was on. Loud, moaning, graphic. One of those high-gloss hotel room scenes. The air shifted.

Everyone squirmed in their seats. I saw them adjusting, shifting, pretending to stretch as their underwear grew tighter. It was getting harder to pretend it was just about cards.

The wrestler guy, the one with the thick build, gave in first. He hooked his boxer briefs under his balls and let them hang free, thick and heavy in the humid room. He started openly stroking himself, casually glancing between his cards and the screen, as if this was part of the game too. Everyone carried on like it was normal. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was distracted.

Then I lost. And the guys shared looks among themselves.

Taylor didn’t say anything at first. He just reached under the table and pulled out a small bottle of oil from his bag. It made me wonder why he used shaving gel that morning in his bedroom. He placed it on the table like it was a perfectly natural poker accessory.

“Let’s do this,” I said, throwing up my hands.

—[]—

They gathered around me, their laughter and playful taunts beginning to escalate. “Looks like it’s your turn, bro,” Taylor said, his smirk widening as he nudged me with his foot.

I hesitated for a moment, then slid off the chair and onto my knees, feeling the cool floor beneath me. The wrestler guy, still nameless to me, stepped forward, his thick frame towering over me, his large cock aiming at my face, already drooling. His hand rested on my shoulder, firm but not unkind.

Taylor leaned back in his chair, his foot hooking into the waistband of my boxer briefs. With a quick tug, he pulled them down, exposing my ass to the warm, humid air. I felt my nerves mix with the excitement of finally doing what had been rocking around my brain all week. The wrestler guy didn’t waste time. He stepped closer, pushing his heavy cock against my lips. I opened my mouth instinctively, and he pushed in, his hands gripping the back of my head, pulling me forward. Taking a second dick cemented the fact that I enjoyed the male body. There was something about submitting, and making a guy feel good, that fulfilled me in ways that girls simply didn’t. Getting with girls always just felt like stuffing a hole, this felt like having sex. 

Behind me, Taylor had begun slicking himself up with the oil from his bag. I felt his hands on my hips, positioning me just right. When he pressed into me, I gasped around the wrestler’s cock, the sensation overwhelming. It burned less than that morning, but it was still sore. They moved sporadically, at different tempos, one filling my throat while the other stretched me open. The room was a blur of heat and motion, the sounds of skin against skin mingling with the porn still playing on the TV.

This was natural to this group. I could tell they had been doing this for a long time. Even though I was older, I was the newcomer, and they were more than ready to initiate me.

And this all started with Taylor asking me how to shave his balls, I thought to myself, chuckling internally.

Jimmy made a comment about how he was gonna miss being the “bottom bitch” tonight, earning a laugh from the group. One of the guys called him a fag, but it was more playful than mean, and Jimmy just smirked, clearly used to it.

I got passed around after that, first the wrestler guy, then the runner guy, even Jimmy tagged in for a turn at my throat and ass. Each one took their time, their hands gripping me, their cocks filling me in different ways I hadn’t expected to enjoy so much. They basically played a game where they did to me whatever was being done to the girl on the screen, but I mostly couldn’t see the TV, since my eyeline was fully obscured by abs or balls.

At one point, Jimmy got too rough with my throat, not realizing I needed to breathe. I barely pushed back, assuming he would stop before too long, but the lack of air, the way my vision blurred... it was intoxicating. I passed out for a moment, only to wake up to Taylor going for a second round in my ass, his hips slamming into me like he owned me, apparently fueled by my body going limp. The first sensation upon coming back to life was realizing I could taste three distinctly different guys in my mouth.

The male animals filtered out eventually, leaving Taylor and me alone in the room with Jimmy. He helped me up, his hand steady on my shoulder as I caught my breath. I thought we were done, but Jimmy needed one more thing, apparently. He sat on the couch, lifting his legs, and showing us his hairless hole. He still had his white socks on, touching his sweaty forehead. 

“Just gimme one before you go,” he said, his eyes only half open.

I looked at Taylor, who shrugged, and we descended upon Jimmy. I squatted down to line up my desperately aching cock with his ass, no warm-up required, while Taylor brought his own shiny cock to his mouth. We proceeded to stuff him like a Thanksgiving turkey from both ends, and my cock was ecstatic to finally have some direct stimulation tonight.

I played with Taylor’s ass while he fucked Jimmy’s mouth. ‘Cause why not? I leaned forward and smelled it. It was familiar, since I’d lived with him forever. It was his musk. I stuck out my tongue and tentatively licked a cheek, then buried my face into his ass and sucked on his hole. He started moaning. I fucked Jimmy’s hole and rimmed Taylor until I blew a quick load, coating Jimmy’s organs in my built-up goo. I felt Taylor’s hole pulse on my tongue as he unloaded into his mouth. We were (frat) brothers after all, and in the moment, it only made sense that we did this together. 

I felt like collapsing after finally cumming. I had no shame about what had happened, that night or that entire week. Taylor looked at me, saying something without words. I nodded, too exhausted to say anything, and we walked home together, the night air cool against our skin. Neither of us even bothered to get fully dressed, just throwing on our messy underwear and carrying the rest. Walking in the cool night air felt like the perfect end to such a weird week, and my ass being broken in. I hoped the neighborhood peaked through their blinds and saw us. I wanted people to know. I wanted everyone to share in this experience.

When we got back, Taylor led me to his bed without a word. I collapsed onto the mattress, and I felt my body still buzzing strongly, like it hit me with more intensity after I stopped moving. He climbed in beside me, his arm slung over my waist. I didn’t question it. I just closed my eyes and let sleep take me.