Testing His Limits
Matt sat in his truck nervously gripping the steering wheel. He stared up at the apartment window that was lit up on the third floor. Matt clenched his jaw as he psyched himself up to go inside. It's not like he didn't want to go inside. It was all he thought about all day. It was who was waiting for him inside that had him nervous. It was a feeling of impending doom. Matt squirmed around in his seat, but it wasn't because he was uncomfortable. It was because when he did, he could feel the silky, delicate material of the pink panties he was wearing under his jeans. He closed his eyes and tried not to get turned on by the sensation of silky material on his dick. He tried not to get hard.
His phone buzzed with a text from who was waiting for him inside.
Branden: What the fuck are you doing out there? Get your bitch ass in here!
Matt looked at his phone and seethed. "Motherfucker," he said out loud. "God, I fucking hate you." His hand holding his phone was trembling. "I fucking hate you."
Branden: You trying to piss me off, faggot?
Again, Matt swore at the phone. "Fuck! I swear to God, dude..." He tried to calm himself before texting back. "If you weren't so fucking hot, I'd choke you out."
MATT: Bro, I'm coming. For fuck sake! Just give me a minute.
Branden: You've been out there for ten fucking minutes. Stop wacking off and get up here.
Matt shook his head as he read the text. He hated being under Branden's thumb like this. At least, he hated Branden knowing Matt was under his thumb. It was fucking humiliating for Matt.
Branden: I fucking see you, dude. You better be at my door in thirty seconds or you can fuck off.
Matt took a deep breath and let it out. He hurried out of his truck, across the lawn and bolted up the stairs to the third floor. He looked at his watch and he did all of that in under fifteen seconds.
Before he could knock, the door opened. Branden didn't even bother looking at Matt. He just turned away from the door and said, "About fucking time."
Matt walked into the small studio apartment and closed the door behind him. Branden was in the kitchenette grabbing a beer out of the mini fridge. Matt scowled as he watched Branden open his beer. Branden was wearing a snug t-shirt with the sleeves cut off revealing baseball sized biceps. His jeans were also snug over his muscular thighs, and he was barefoot. His dark hair was messy, not styled like usual, but he still looked hot.
"Don't fucking scowl at me," Branden said as he walked past Matt and plopped down on his futon. He sat with his back against the wall, one knee up and balancing his beer on it, the other leg straight out. He had a cocky smirk on his face as he just stared at Matt.
"I'll fucking scowl at you if I want," Matt said back.
Branden chuckled. "Ohh, big man," he said mocking Matt. "What the fuck did you come over for if you're just gonna be a little bitch?" Branden asked. He already knew the answer and didn't expect one from Matt.
Matt looked at Branden's fucking cocky, handsome face. The dude had a hold over Matt. They had hated each other for so long and now they were some kind of fucked up version of fuck buddies. Branden degraded him and Matt took it, but not without telling Branden what a dick he was.
"So?" Branden asked holding his palm up, waiting for an answer.
"You told me to come over, dick," Matt said though clenched teeth.
"Did I?" Matt said smugly. "I believe I told you to come over only if you did what you were supposed to do. I'm assuming you did?" he asked as he not so subtly adjusted his cock while he stared at Matt.
Matt took a deep breath. His mouth was dry. He was so torn between his hatred for the guy and his contradictory boner he had for Branden. He was Matt's physical type- built, rugged, handsome, ultra masculine. But Branden was an arrogant fuck and Matt hated him right away. Their first conversation did not go well, and alpha attitude exuded from both and filled the room.
Branden looked up at the hot, muscled, frat boy. Matt was that stereotypical blonde-haired, blue-eyed jock who could be on a football recruiting poster. Matt was tall, broad, ripped, had beautiful crystal-blue eyes and red, puffy lips. But he was also a cocky asshole. Branden hated him from the second Matt opened his mouth. Matt was cocky, arrogant, conceited and loved looking at himself too much. That being said, Branden had to admit, Matt was a pretty boy, and Branden had a thing for pretty boys. Matt had the kind of chiseled jawline and cheekbones that could easily make him a model. Normally, Branden would try to bed down a dude like that quickly and on the down low. But Matt gave him attitude from the get-go. There was an electricity in the air that was charged when they were in the same room. They just clashed.
That was months ago. Now, their dynamic had changed. It took a while, but Branden and Matt succumbed to their love/hate attraction to each other one drunken night. Branden prevailed in his quest to dominate the pretty boy. Matt didn't know what hit him and now he felt like an on-call whore. He couldn't resist Branden's pull. They constantly bickered and clashed but sexually, they were electric.
"I did," Matt replied to Branden's question.
Branden perked up. He sat up and leaned forward. "Wait, you did?" He wasn't expecting Matt to comply so easily.
Matt nodded. "Well, yeah, of course. You told me to."
"I know but this time I didn't think you would."
Matt noticed that Branden was actually excited. He even licked his bottom lip.
"You knew I would. Asshole," Matt said to him and flipped him off.
Branden frowned. "Why do you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
"That," Branden said as he waved his hand around towards Matt. "That fucking arrogant shit. Why do you have to be such a dick?"
"Me? Arrogant? Fuck you," Matt shot back. "You cock-bite."
Branden's face became stern looking. "Fucking bitch," he growled.
"I thought you like me being a bitch?"
"I don't like it when my dick isn't in you."
Matt folded his arms over his chest and gave him a pouty look.
Branden snickered. "You know, for a dude that looks like you, and who acts like he's tough shit, you are such a cunt."
Matt sneered at him. "You like my cunt."
Branden flinched, not expecting that come back. "My dick likes your cunt. Now, are you going to show me, or what?"
Matt stood defiantly.
"Boy, you better show me something quick or there will be repercussions."
Matt knew he could take him. He had before. But he didn't want to fight. He wanted to fuck. Matt looked back at him defiantly but with a sudden urge to please him. He unfastened his jeans and, looking at Branden straight in the eyes, slowly pushed them down to his ankles. Branden's eyes widened. Matt stepped out of his jeans and slowly took off his shirt. Branden's dick became rock hard as he stared in awe at the big, blonde muscle boy wearing nothing but a pair of tight, silky, pink panties with white lace trim, and a little red bow on the front. Matt knew Branden was boning up, so he casually flexed the ripped muscles in his quads, flexed his abs, his hands on his hips.
"Holy fuck," Branden whispered.
Matt smiled. He was happy that Branden was pleased. "Did I do good?" he asked almost meekly.
"Bro, you did good," Branden said back, his eyes darting all over Matt's perfect body. "Good boy, Matt."
Matt shivered when he heard Branden call him that. "God, I was hoping you would like them," he said in a slow, sexy baritone. "They make me feel sexy."
