I Took Dick for New Year’s - Part III

Everyone in this story is 18+

This is the last planned part in this New Year's Eve special. I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. On all fours in front of my best friend, offering myself up to fix his…problem. My mind screamed at me to stop—to say no, to tell him to figure it out some other way—but my body betrayed me. My face was pressed into his pillow, the scent of his cologne faint but unmistakable, mingling with the smell of my freshly clean sheets. My hands gripped the fabric beneath me as if it would ground me, but nothing could.

"Just relax," Walker’s voice came from behind, low and rough, sending an unbidden shiver down my spine. His hands gripped my hips, strong and steady. "It’ll hurt less if you loosen up."

I bit my lip, trying to suppress the overwhelming mix of emotions swirling inside me. Embarrassment, apprehension, and…something darker, something I didn’t want to name. My voice came out hoarse, muffled by the pillow. "For fuck’s sake, Walker. Just…get it over with."

The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with tension and a heat that seemed to radiate off both of us. Then I felt it: the blunt, slick press of his cockhead against me. I sucked in a sharp breath, my body tensing instinctively. My go-to jerking off lube from my nightstand had done its job, but nothing could prepare me for the reality of it.

"Easy," Walker muttered, his voice strained. His hands tightened their grip, fingers digging into my hips as he pressed forward, slowly breaching me. The initial stretch burned, a sharp, searing sensation that made me hiss through gritted teeth.

"Shit," I managed, my fists clenching the sheets. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to end this insanity, but my body had other ideas. There was an odd spark—a flicker of something that felt dangerously close to pleasure—amidst the discomfort.

"You’re so tight," Walker groaned, the words tumbling out before he could stop himself.

"Don’t…don’t say that," I snapped, my voice wavering. My cheeks burned hot with humiliation, but there was no denying the heat pooling low in my stomach.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed deeper, inch by inch, until his hips were flush against me. The fullness was overwhelming, an unrelenting stretch that had my body trembling. I buried my face deeper into the pillow, trying to muffle the gasps and groans that escaped me.

"You okay?" Walker’s voice was softer now, almost…gentle. It was a side of him I rarely saw, and it caught me off guard.

I nodded, my breathing ragged. "Just...Move. Get this over with. It hurts."

He hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. Slowly, he pulled back, the drag of his cock sending a jolt of sensation up my spine. When he thrust back in, it was with more confidence, the force making me gasp. The rhythm started tentative, almost unsure, but it didn’t take long for him to find his stride. Each thrust came harder, deeper, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

The bed creaked beneath us, the sheets twisting under my grip as I struggled to process the torrent of sensations. The burn had eased, replaced by an electric pleasure that spread through me with every snap of his hips. The friction, the heat, the way his cock stretched me—it was too much, and yet not enough.

Walker leaned over me, his breath hot against the back of my neck. "You’re taking it as a champ, bro. I can’t believe I’m fucking you. It’s wild!" murmured, his voice thick with arousal.

The words sent a flush of heat to my cheeks, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. My mind was a haze, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Every nerve in my body felt alive, hypersensitive to every thrust, every movement. I could feel the coarse brush of his pubes against my skin, the steady slap of his balls with every deep thrust. It was raw, primal, and utterly consuming.

And then it hit me. A wave of heat surged through me, my muscles clenching involuntarily around him. My cock, untouched and trapped beneath me, twitched violently. I barely had time to process the sensation before I was coming, hot spurts of cum spilling onto the sheets below. The pleasure was blinding, a white-hot release that left me gasping and trembling.

"Fuck," Walker groaned, his rhythm faltering as my body clenched around him. "You came hands-free?"

I didn’t respond, couldn’t. My face burned with a mix of shame and something else I didn’t want to name. Before I could gather my thoughts, Walker’s pace grew erratic. His hips slammed forward one last time, his balls slapping against mine like twin pendulums with a sharp, audible smack. Walker let out a guttural groan, his body shuddering as I felt a flood of warmth spill into me, pulsing with every twitch of his cock. The sensation was startling, intimate in a way that made my head spin, each throb leaving me more breathless than the last.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The room was silent except for the sound of our heavy breathing, the distant hum of laughter and music from the party downstairs a stark contrast to what had just happened.

Walker finally pulled out, and I rolled onto my back, not even feeling him spill out since he had deposited his load so deep inside. He collapsed onto the bed beside me with a satisfied sigh.

"Well," he said, his tone as cocky as ever, "Did that really happen?."

As I caught my breath, too drained to respond, Walker nudged me and pointed downward, a grin spreading across his face. "Hey, bud! Look! It's actually going down now!" he exclaimed, gesturing proudly at his ever-shrinking wiener

I groaned, grabbing my pillow and burying my face in it. "If you ever tell anyone about this—"

He laughed, the sound lazy and amused. "Relax, nerd. Your secret’s safe with me." He leaned back, still smug.

“Call me a nerd one more time and I will take a fucking picture of you right now and post it!” I sneered at him.

“Hey, relax! Wanna cuddle?” He chuckled, getting up to pull on his clothes. I rolled my eyes but followed suit, knowing we needed to head back down before anyone came looking for us.

---

Walker and I trudged downstairs, my body still buzzing from what had just happened. My face felt like it was on fire, and I was sure I looked like I’d run a marathon—or done something much more compromising. Walker, of course, seemed completely at ease, his lazy grin as wide as ever as we stepped into the living room.

All eyes turned to us, the chatter pausing momentarily.

"There you two are!" Mom exclaimed, her voice cheerful. "Where’d you disappear to?"

Walker didn’t miss a beat. "Oh, uh, we just went upstairs to watch a dumb New Year’s movie. Nothing exciting."

"Yeah," I added quickly, nodding and trying to look casual. "A, uh, really boring movie."

Dad raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t press further. "Well, you missed most of the countdown. It’s almost time for the ball to drop."

We muttered some excuse about losing track of time and shuffled to the couch. I thought we were in the clear, the worst of the night behind us, until Dad turned toward me with a curious look.

"Hey, Evan," he said, scratching his head. "Have you seen my little blue allergy pills in the bathroom? They’re not in their usual spot at the little plastic trey."

My heart plummeted straight into my stomach. I froze, my eyes darting to Walker, who stiffened beside me. Our gazes met, and for a split second, all I could think was: Allergy pills? Fuck!

Walker’s grin faltered, but he quickly recovered, mouthing a sheepish "Sorry" before turning to Dad with that infuriatingly easy shrug of his. "Oh, yeah. Sorry, Mr. Richards. I forgot mine at home, so I borrowed yours. Hope that’s okay."

I stared at him, wide-eyed, my jaw practically hitting the floor. What the hell is he doing?!

Dad didn’t seem to notice my panic. Instead, he smiled warmly. "Of course, Walker. No problem at all. I’ve got more in the medicine cabinet. But I didn’t know you had allergies?"

Walker hesitated for a split second before flashing an innocent grin. "Uh, yeah. Soda. I’ve got this weird allergy to soda."

I groaned softly, burying my face in my hands as Dad’s brow furrowed. "Soda? I didn’t know that was a thing."

"Yup," Walker said, nodding earnestly. "Totally a thing."

Dad shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I’ll be damned. Soda allergies. You learn something new every day. You do seem a bit flustered actually."

“Yeah, but it’s better now! The allergy pill seemed to do the trick,” Walker responded before pivoting towards the little coach in the corner, me and Walker used to sit in. He leaned back on the couch, looking entirely too smug, while I glared daggers at him. If looks could kill, he’d already be six feet under.

The ball began to drop on TV, everyone counting down in unison, but I couldn’t focus. My mind was a whirlwind of disbelief and frustration, replaying everything that had just unfolded.

Walker caught my eye again, giving me a small, apologetic shrug and mouthing, "It’s fine." Then he puckered his lips dramatically, sending me an exaggerated air kiss.

As I sat down on the couch, I felt it—warm, sticky, and gooey—my best friend's fucking spunk seeping out of me. I shook my head, mouthing to him, "You are so dead."