September 16th, 2028, 10:51 PM
Trinity Valley Community College, Dorm 230
The dorm room was a disaster zone of incense smoke, tie-dye tapestries, and empty pizza boxes that had been stacked into a precarious tower in the corner. The smell of patchouli and weed hung thick in the air, mixing with something earthier and more chemical that drifted from the direction of Crow's side of the room. A single lava lamp bubbled on the nightstand, casting everything in an orange, hypnotic glow that made the walls seem to breathe.
Otis lounged on his bed in nothing but a pair of loose boxers, his nineteen-year-old body lean and soft in that way that came from a steady diet of cheap carbs and expensive drugs. His long hair was even longer back then, falling past his shoulders in a messy cascade of light brown waves, and his eyes were half-lidded with that glassy, faraway look that was his default setting during his hippie phase. He was already super high, the kind of high that made everything feel like it was happening in slow motion and double speed at the same time.
"I'm just saying," Otis drawled, his voice carrying that soft, meandering cadence that made everything he said sound like a revelation, "the universe, like, knew what it was doing, you know? When it took all the foids away. It was a recalibration. A cosmic correction. There was too much imbalance before." ("Foids", son im crine)
Sky nodded sagely from his spot on the floor, his adorable face squished into an expression of intense concentration. He was a tiny thing, barely five-two, with fluffy blond hair that fell in perfect waves around his cherubic features. He was wearing an oversized tie-dye hoodie that hung past his thighs and a pair of socks with little mushrooms printed on them. The blunt between his fingers was so short he had to pinch it with his nails, but he didn't seem to care.
"Facts," Sky agreed, his voice high and breathy. "Facts facts facts. The feminine energy was, like, way too dominant before. It was throwing everything off. The chakras were, like, totally misaligned. You couldn't find a single person with balanced energy. Everyone was either too much yin or too much yang. It was chaos."
"Right?" Otis leaned forward, gesturing with both hands as he spoke. "But now? Now it's all the same energy. Everyone's got the same chakras. Everyone's compatible with everyone. It's the ultimate harmony."
Crow snickered from the corner, his voice low and dripping with amusement. He was sprawled across his own bed in nothing but a fishnet top and a pair of black lace panties, his pale body covered in a constellation of homemade tattoos and self-inflicted piercings. His black hair was cropped short on the sides and longer on top, dyed with streaks of electric purple that glowed under the lava lamp's orange light. He had been munching on mushrooms for the last hour, his pupils blown wide and his grin slightly manic.
"Compatible with everyone," Crow repeated, dragging the words out. "You say that like it's a good thing. You know what compatibility means, right? It means I can fuck literally anyone in this building and nobody's weird about it. It means the whole world is just a giant orgy waiting to happen."
Otis waved a dismissive hand. "That's not what I mean. I mean spiritually compatible. Energetically. Sex is just, like, the physical manifestation of the spiritual connection. It's the union of souls. It's sacred."
"It's also really, really fun," Crow countered, grinding his hips against the mattress for emphasis. "And now that all the foids are gone, there's no more drama. No more jealousy. No more weird energy. Just pure, unadulterated femboy love. I don't know about you, but I've never been happier."
Sky giggled, the sound light and bubbly. "Honestly? Same. I used to be so insecure before the Vanishing. I was always worried about being too feminine, too soft. Like I wasn't man enough for the world. And now? Now everyone's feminine. Everyone's soft. It's like I was made for this new world."
"You were made for it," Otis agreed, reaching down to ruffle Sky's fluffy blond hair. "We all were. We just didn't know it yet. The universe was, like, preparing us. Training us. And then it just... flipped the switch."
Crow snorted again. "Sounds like something a stoner would say."
"Says the guy who ate half an ounce of mushrooms and is currently trying to merge with his mattress."
"Okay, first of all, it was a quarter ounce. Second of all, I'm not trying to merge with my mattress. I'm trying to commune with the spirits."
Sky giggled again, passing the blunt to Otis. "So what do you think happens now? Like, now that we're all compatible? What's the next step in the evolution of humanity?"
Otis took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before letting it curl out of his nostrils. "I think we just... exist. We just be. We just love each other and take care of each other and get high and have sex and let the energy flow. There's no more struggle. There's no more competition. It's just... peace."
"That's beautiful," Sky breathed, his eyes going glassy. "That's so beautiful, Otis. You're like a genius, like that Albert Epstein guy or what ever his name was."
"I'm just a guy who's really, really high."
"Same thing."
Crow pushed himself up off the bed with a groan, stumbling toward the pile of empty pizza boxes. "Speaking of being high, I'm starving. Do we have any food? I can't find the pizza we ordered earlier. I think I ate it all and don't remember."
"You ate it all," Sky confirmed. "You ate a whole box, then you started talking about how the cheese was sentient and trying to communicate with you."
"The cheese was absolutely saying that. You're just not spiritually attuned enough to hear it."
Otis laughed, the sound low and warm. "You two are a trip. You know that? A total, complete, cosmic trip."
"Takes one to know one," Crow shot back, collapsing onto the bed again. "Speaking of trips, I'm thinking about going on a nature walk later. There's a patch of woods behind the campus that I'm pretty sure has some good spots. You guys in?"
"Always," Sky said immediately. "I love nature walks. The trees have such good energy. They're always so chill."
"As long as there's snacks," Otis added. "And as long as Crow doesn't try to eat any more sentient mushrooms."
"No promises. If the mushrooms call to me, I have to answer."
The three of them fell into comfortable silence for a moment, the only sounds the soft gurgle of the lava lamp and the distant thump of music from another dorm room. Otis leaned back on his pillows, letting the high wash over him, feeling the warmth of the room and the presence of his two friends.
"I love you guys," Sky said suddenly, his voice small and sincere. "Like, really, truly, deeply love you. You're my soulmates."
"We love you too, Sky," Otis replied, reaching down to squeeze his shoulder. "You're the best little stoner friend a guy could ask for."
"Seconded," Crow added, though his voice was muffled by the pillow he had face-planted into. "You're the only one who understands my mushroom-based spiritual awakenings."
"I understand them because they're real. The mushrooms are real. The spirits are real. Everything is real."
Crow lifted his head just enough to squint at Sky. "You're high as balls, aren't you?"
Sky giggled. "Like, completely. Totally. Utterly. I'm floating right now. I'm ascending. I'm one with the universe."
"That's the second blunt you've had tonight."
"Time is an illusion. Blunts are eternal."
Otis was about to respond when the doorbell rang, the sound sharp and jarring after the long stretch of quiet. All three of them blinked, their drug-addled brains slow to process the interruption.
"Did someone order something?" Crow asked, his voice groggy.
"We did order something," Otis replied, already standing up. "Pizza. Remember? We ordered pizza like two hours ago."
"Did we finish it?"
"No, I think it just... never showed up."
"Shit. I forgot all about it."
Otis shuffled toward the door in his loose boxers, his bare chest on full display, his long hair messy and tangled. He was too high to care about his state of undress, too high to even register that he was about to open the door to a stranger while practically naked. He pulled the door open and found himself staring at the delivery boy, who was holding three steaming boxes of pizza.
The delivery boy was a very, very dainty femboy, the kind with delicate features and wide, innocent eyes and the softest, most kissable lips Otis had ever seen. He couldn't have been older than eighteen, his body small and compact, his massive post-Vanishing ass straining against his tight black pants. He had long dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and a constellation of freckles across his nose that made him look like a dreamy cartoon character. His cheeks flushed bright red the moment he saw Otis, his eyes widening as they traveled down the bare chest, the boxers sitting low on the hips, the mess of long hair falling over the shoulders.
Otis blinked slowly, his brain not quite connecting the dots. Then a grin spread across his face, wide and genuine and utterly unselfconscious.
"Sweeet," he said, his voice warm and relaxed. "The pizza's here."
Otis's hand closed around the three pizza boxes, the warmth seeping through the cardboard and spreading across his palms. He fumbled in his loose boxers for a moment before remembering he didn't have any pockets, then just grabbed a crumpled fifty-dollar bill from the pile of cash on the nearby desk and shoved it toward the delivery boy. The dainty femboy's eyes went wide at the sight of the bill, his delicate fingers brushing against Otis's as he took it.
"Keep the change," Otis said, his voice still carrying that lazy, warm drawl that came from being completely and utterly baked. "And hey, you want some? There's more than enough for three stoners and a hungry delivery boy."
The femboy's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, spreading from his cheekbones down to the soft curve of his neck. His hands twisted together nervously, fingers interlacing and untwining in a frantic little dance that made him look like a deer caught in headlights. His eyes darted from Otis's bare chest to his messy hair to his loose boxers and back again, never quite settling anywhere for more than a heartbeat.
"I—um—I really want to say yes," the femboy stammered, his voice high and breathy. "Like, I really really really want to say yes. But I have four more hours of my shift left and my manager is super strict about breaks and if I take too long he'll probably write me up and I really need this job because I'm saving up for a new phone and—"
Otis held up one hand, cutting off the frantic stream of words with a lazy smile. "Hey. Breathe. It's okay. You don't have to justify anything to me. Just swing by when your shift's over. Room 230. We'll probably still be here. Or we'll be on the roof. Or passed out. But the pizza will definitely still be here."
The femboy's eyes went impossibly wide. "Really? You mean that? You're not just saying that to be nice?"
"I never say things just to be nice. That's exhausting. Come by when you're done. We'll hang out. Eat cold pizza. Talk about the universe. Whatever."
The femboy's face lit up like someone had flipped a switch. His smile was radiant, bright enough to rival the lava lamp's glow, and he clutched the fifty-dollar bill to his chest like it was a treasure. "I'm Jay," he said quickly, as if he was afraid Otis might disappear before he could get the words out. "My name's Jay. I'm a freshman.(COLLAGE FRESHMEN! DONT SMITE ME WEBNOVEL!) I'm majoring in—well, I haven't really decided yet. But I'm Jay. That's my name. Just so you know. In case you were wondering."
Otis grinned and extended his fist. "I'm Otis. Nice to meet you, Jay. Now go finish your shift. The pizza's not gonna eat itself."
Jay bumped his fist against Otis's with the kind of clumsy, enthusiastic energy that only came from being young and flustered and completely smitten. "I'll be back. I promise. I'll definitely be back."
"I'll be here."
Jay practically floated down the hallway, his massive ass swaying with every step, his ponytail bouncing. Otis watched him go for a moment, then closed the door with a lazy grin, the pizza boxes still warm in his hands.
The moment the door clicked shut, Crow was already giving him The Look. It was that specific expression he got when he smelled something interesting, part amusement, part predatory interest, part smug satisfaction. He was still sprawled across his bed in that fishnet top and lace panties, but now he was propped up on one elbow, his chin resting in his palm, his grin stretched wide.
Otis caught the look and immediately went on the defensive. "What?" he asked, his voice already carrying that note of exasperation. "What's that face for?"
"That face," Crow said, gesturing vaguely at his own features, "is the face of someone who just witnessed a very cute, very flustered delivery boy get completely charmed by my hot, mostly-naked roommate. Jay definitely wants you. Like, wants you wants you. He's probably gonna spend the next four hours of his shift thinking about you and those adorable little boxers you're wearing."
Otis waved him off, already walking toward the desk to set down the pizza boxes. "Pffft. Nahhh. He was just being polite. That's his job. He's a delivery boy. He's supposed to be friendly."
"Friendly and flustered are two different things, Otis. That kid was flustered. You made him blush like a schoolgirl. The way he was looking at you? He was already imagining you bending him over that counter and having your way with him."
"You're projecting."
"I'm observing. I observe, I analyze, I report. And my report is that Jay is going to be thinking about your abs for the rest of the night."
Otis rolled his eyes, but he couldn't quite suppress the small, pleased smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever you say, Crow."
Crow pushed himself up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy, his movements loose and fluid despite the mushrooms still swimming through his system. He crossed the room in three quick strides and dropped to his knees behind Otis, his hands immediately finding the waistband of those loose boxers.
"Speaking of you and your hotness," Crow said, his voice dropping into that low, teasing register, "it's about damn time someone took care of you. Everyone here has been waiting for some lucky guy to come along and pop that cherry of yours. Even Sky's managed to get laid, and Sky's been here for like two months."
"Hey!" Sky protested from the floor, though there was no real heat in it. "I've been with four people. That's not nothing."
"Four people in two months is basically a sex drought compared to me," Crow shot back. "But the point is, Otis, you're a total virgin. A hot, sweet, long-haired virgin with a body that should be illegal. And you just let the pizza boy get away."
Otis playfully slapped Crow's hands away, trying to pull the waistband of his boxers back up. "I'm not a sex addict like you, Crow. I'm just not interested in hooking up with random people."
Crow didn't give up easily. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Otis's waist and pulling him down onto the floor in a tangle of limbs. He straddled Otis's hips, pinning him to the carpet, his fishnet-clad body pressing close.
"Careful," Crow purred, his voice dripping with playful menace. "Some of us can't control our impulses. Some of us might just have to take a little taste of this sweet hippie ass."
He reached down and delivered a sharp, stinging slap to Otis's ass, the crack echoing through the room. Otis let out a startled yelp, his body jerking under Crow's weight, his face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and genuine fluster.
"Ow! Crow, that's not something to joke about!" Otis pouted, his lower lip pushing out in that exaggerated way he did when he was feeling particularly picked on. "I'm serious. That's not funny."
Crow's grin softened, the predatory edge fading into something almost tender. "I'm just messing with you, Otis. You know I wouldn't actually do anything you didn't want. But seriously, you need a man. A good one. Someone who'll treat you right and appreciate all that hippie energy you've got going on. I wouldn't mind being friends with benefits if you ever change your mind, though."
Otis rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"I live to serve," Crow said, giving Otis's ass one final, playful squeeze before pushing himself up off the floor. "Just keep it in mind."
Otis sat up, smoothing down his boxers and running a hand through his messy hair. He was about to respond when something caught his eye through the window. The curtains were pulled back just enough to reveal the night sky, and the stars were out, bright and clear and scattered across the darkness like someone had thrown a handful of diamonds across a black velvet blanket.
Otis's expression shifted, the playful exasperation melting into something softer, more contemplative. He was still high, still floaty, and the sight of those stars made something warm and peaceful settle in his chest.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet and thoughtful. "You guys wanna sneak up to the roof? The stars are out tonight. It's beautiful."
Sky's face lit up like someone had just handed him the best news of his entire life. He scrambled to his feet, his fluffy blond hair bouncing with excitement. "Offcource! That's such a good idea. The stars are always so much better when you're high. They look, like, all sparkly and magical and stuff."
Crow grinned, already reaching for his shoes. "I'm down. But if we get caught, I'm blaming Sky. He's the one who's too adorable to get in trouble."
"That's not how it works!"
"That's exactly how it works!"
Otis laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and grabbed his tie-dye hoodie from the back of his chair. He pulled it over his head as he led his two roommates toward the door, his bare feet padding softly against the carpet, his mind already drifting up toward the roof and the stars and whatever deep, philosophical conversations the night would bring.
---
The rooftop stretched out before them like a flat, gravel-covered island floating above the campus. The night air was cool and crisp, carrying the faint scent of distant rain and the lingering smoke from whatever they had been burning in the room downstairs. The stars were out in full force, scattered across the sky like someone had taken a handful of diamonds and thrown them against the darkness. Otis lay flat on his back on the rough surface, his tie-dye hoodie bunched up under his head, his bare legs stretched out in front of him. He was still in those loose boxers, the fabric soft and worn against his thighs, and he didn't care one bit about the cold.
"Look at that one," Crow said, pointing up at the sky with a lazy, stoned grin. His voice was loose and playful, the mushrooms still working their magic through his system. "That one right there. Heheh. That one looks like a butt."
Otis rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. "Crow."
"I'm serious! Look at it! It's got the two perfect little hemispheres and everything. It's a butt star. A star butt. A butt that's also a star. It's poetic."
Crow Pointed at another patch of sky. "And that one! Heheh. That one looks like someone eating a butt. See the shape? That's definitely a tongue going in. That's a tongue star. A star tongue. A tongue that's also a star. The universe is speaking to me, Otis. It's telling me to eat ass."
"You think about eating ass constantly. The universe doesn't need to tell you anything."
"Fair point. But look at this one—"
"Crow, if you point at one more star and tell me it looks like a butt, I'm going to throw you off this roof."
Crow's grin widened, utterly unrepentant. "That's a butt threat. A threat butt. A butt that's also a threat. I'm feeling attacked and also turned on."
Otis finally sat up, fixing Crow with a flat, unimpressed stare. "Do you ever think about anything else? Anything at all? Or is your brain just a constant loop of ass, dick, and more ass?"
Crow pretended to think about it, tapping his chin with exaggerated contemplation. "Hmm. That's a good question. Let me think. I think about dicks too. I'm not picky, Otis. I'm an equal opportunity enthusiast. Ass, dick, ass and dick together, ass with a side of dick, dick with a side of ass, the whole smorgasbord."
"You're impossible."
"You've mentioned that before. It's starting to feel like a compliment."
Sky giggled from his spot a few feet away, his fluffy blond hair catching the faint moonlight. He was wrapped in his oversized tie-dye hoodie, but the rest of him was just as bare as Otis, his pale legs sticking out from under the hem and his feet bare against the gravel. He shifted nervously, his cheeks flushing.
"Um," Sky said, his voice small and uncertain. "Should we have, like, worn something? Instead of coming up here in our underwear? What if someone sees us?"
Otis waved a dismissive hand, already lying back down. "It's fineeeeeee. We're on the roof. Nobody's gonna come up here at this hour. And even if they do, who cares? It's just bodies. Bodies are natural. Bodies are beautiful. Bodies are just vessels for the soul."
Crow's eyes lit up with sudden, predatory mischief. "Suuuuure it is. And speaking of beautiful bodies..."
He scooted closer to Sky, his movements slow and deliberate, that familiar hungry grin spreading across his face. Sky's eyes went wide, his blush deepening as he realized what was happening.
"Don't even think about it," Sky warned, his voice trembling slightly. "Crow, I swear to god, if you—"
Crow's hand slid down Sky's chest, his fingers tracing the line of the hoodie, trailing lower and lower until they stopped just above Sky's crotch. He didn't touch, not yet, just hovered there with that wicked grin, letting the anticipation build.
"I'm not thinking," Crow purred. "I'm doing."
Sky's breath caught in his throat, a soft, breathy moan escaping his lips before he could stop it. His hips twitched involuntarily, pressing up toward that hovering hand, desperate for contact.
"Crow," Sky whimpered, his voice cracking. "You can't touch that spot in public. Someone could see—"
But Crow was already pressing down, his palm rubbing slow, teasing circles against the front of Sky's boxers. The thin fabric did nothing to hide the growing bulge underneath, the way Sky's tiny cocklet was already hardening with embarrassing speed.
"AHHH—Crow—!" Sky's protest dissolved into a high, needy moan as Crow's hand worked faster, the friction building through the thin cotton. Sky's hips bucked up into the touch, his body betraying him completely, his moans growing louder and more desperate with every passing second.
"Someone's enjoying himself," Crow observed, his voice low and amused. "You sure you want me to stop?"
Sky shook his head frantically, his eyes already glassy, his cheeks burning. "No—don't stop—please don't stop—I was lying—I want it—I want it so bad—"
"Good boy."
Crow's hand moved faster, harder, pressing and rubbing with that practiced, relentless rhythm that made Sky's whole body shake. Sky's moans pitched higher, his back arching off the gravel as the pressure built and built and—
"AHHHHH—CROW—I'M—I'M—"
Sky came hard, his body seizing as his tiny cocklet spurted into his boxers, the wet warmth spreading across the fabric in a sudden, shocking rush. His hips jerked through the aftershocks, his mouth open in a silent scream that finally escaped as a long, shuddering moan.
Crow's eyes went wide, genuine surprise flickering across his face. "Whoa. I didn't think you'd actually cum from that. That was... that was fast. I mean, good fast. Impressive fast. But fast."
Sky lay there for a moment, chest heaving, his face a mess of flushed arousal and growing anger. His eyes snapped open, locking onto Crow with a look that was equal parts horny and furious.
"My turn," Sky said, his voice low and dangerous. "Hmph!"
Before Crow could react, Sky lunged forward and straddled him, pinning the taller femboy to the gravel with surprising strength. His hips ground down against Crow's, and Crow let out a sharp, startled gasp.
"Sky—wait—I didn't mean to—"
"You touched my spot in public," Sky growled, grinding harder. "You made me cum in my pants like some desperate slut. Now it's my turn to make you suffer."
Crow squirmed beneath him, his face flushing, his body already reacting despite his protests. "This- this is foreplay—I hate foreplay—"
"Too bad," Sky said, grinning down at him. "You're gonna learn to love it."
He ground down harder, his hips rolling in slow, torturous circles that made Crow's breath catch and his whole body tense. Crow's hands flew to Sky's hips, trying to push him away, but Sky didn't budge.
"Sky—please—just let me put it in—I'll be good—I swear—"
"No."
"I'll be your good boy—I'll do anything—just let me inside—"
"Beg harder."
Crow's protests dissolved into desperate, pleading moans as Sky kept grinding, the friction through both pairs of boxers driving him crazy. His hips bucked helplessly, trying to find more contact, more pressure, anything to push him over the edge.
"Please—Sky—I'm begging—I'll be so good for you—I'll never touch your spot in public again—just let me—"
But Sky just grinned and ground harder, watching with wicked satisfaction as Crow's composure finally cracked. The taller femboy's moans turned into high, broken cries, his body trembling as the pleasure built and built until he couldn't hold back any longer.
"AHHHHH—FUCK—SKY—I'M—"
Crow came hard, his body convulsing beneath Sky, his release flooding his boxers with a desperate, gasping cry. He lay there for a long moment, chest heaving, his face a mess of embarrassment and reluctant pleasure.
Otis watched the whole thing from his spot on the gravel, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and genuine amusement. He pushed himself up with a sigh, brushing the gravel dust off his boxers.
"Alright," Otis said, his voice carrying that warm, lazy drawl. "I'm heading inside. You two obviously need a moment alone."
He started walking toward the roof access door, his bare feet padding softly against the gravel. Crow called after him, his voice still breathless.
"Otis—wait—we can—"
Otis just waved a hand over his shoulder, a tired grin tugging at his lips. "Don't worry about it. Have fun. I'll see you back in the room."
He slipped through the door and made his way down the narrow stairwell, the concrete steps cold against his bare feet. The building was quiet at this hour, the distant murmur of music from someone's dorm room filtering through the walls. The stairwell smelled like old paint and stale air, familiar and comforting in its own way.
Otis reached the third floor and pushed open the alway door, stepping out into the long, dimly lit hallway filled with dorms. And there, standing outside his dorm room, was Jay. The delivery boy was still in his uniform, his dark hair loose around his shoulders, his cheeks flushed with what Otis could only assume was a mix of cold and nervousness.
"Jay?" Otis's voice carried genuine surprise and warmth. "Hey! What are you doing here?"
Jay spun around, his whole face lighting up when he saw Otis. "Otis! I—I hope I'm not overstepping or anything. But I asked my boss if I could get off early and he said yes, so I thought I'd come by and see if the offer was still—"
"It's still open," Otis said, already walking toward him. "Come on in. I've got pizza and we can talk or just hang out or whatever you want."
Jay's blush deepened, his fingers twisting together in that nervous, adorable way. "Um... yes. I mean, yesss. I'd really like that. Thank you."
Otis grinned and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal the incense-scented chaos of the room. He gestured for Jay to enter first, his voice warm and inviting.
"Welcome to the sanctuary. It's not much, but it's home."
---
Two hours had passed since Jay had stepped through that door, and the dorm room had transformed into something else entirely.
The incense was still burning, the lava lamp still bubbling, but the air was thicker now, heavier with the scent of sweat and sex and the lingering traces of weed that clung to everything. The tie-dye tapestries seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the bodies moving against each other, the orange glow casting everything in warm, sinuous shadows.
Otis had Jay bent over the edge of his bed, the delivery boy's small body trembling with every powerful thrust. Jay's uniform shirt was long gone, discarded somewhere in the corner, and his pants were bunched around his ankles, leaving his massive post-Vanishing ass completely exposed. The cheeks were perfect, round and plush, and they rippled with every impact as Otis drove into him from behind.
"AHHHHH—OTIS—YES—RIGHT THERE—AHHHHH—!"
Jay's moans were relentless, a constant stream of high-pitched, desperate sounds that filled the room and bounced off the walls. He was gripping the edge of the mattress so hard his knuckles had gone white, his face pressed into the rumpled sheets, his long dark hair falling in messy waves across his shoulders.
PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—
The sound of skin meeting skin was obscene, wet and rhythmic, punctuated by Jay's constant, breathless moans. Otis's hips snapped forward with steady, powerful strokes, his hands gripping Jay's hips, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above the curve of that perfect ass. He was learning as he went, figuring out what angle made Jay scream louder, what rhythm made him beg harder.
"AHHHH—AHHHH—AHHHH—OTIS—AHHHHH—!"
Otis's breathing was ragged, his long hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his lean body glistening under the lava lamp's warm glow. He had never done this before, never been inside anyone, never felt the tight, velvety heat of another person wrapped around him. It was overwhelming in the best way, the sensation so intense he could barely think straight.
"You feel so good, Jay," Otis groaned, his voice low and rough. "So tight, FUCKKKKKK."
"AHHHH—DON'T STOP—PLEASE DON'T STOP—I'M SO CLOSE—AHHHHH—!"
Jay's moans pitched higher, more desperate, his body arching back against Otis's thrusts. His hands scrambled for purchase on the mattress, his fingers clawing at the sheets as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. The wet sounds of their joining grew louder, more frantic, the PLAP-PLAP-PLAP echoing through the room like a heartbeat.
"AHHHH—AHHHH—AHHHH—OTIS—I'M GONNA—I'M GONNA—AHHHHHH—!"
Jay came with a scream, his body convulsing, his hole clenching rhythmically around Otis's cock as wave after wave of pleasure ripped through him. His untouched cocklet spurted weakly onto the sheets below, his whole body shaking with the force of his orgasm.
Otis kept thrusting through it, riding out the spasms, feeling the tight heat pulse around him. He was close now, so close, the pressure building low and heavy in his gut.
"Jay—I'm about to—I'm about to—"
---
on the roof the scene was equally intense. Crow had Sky pinned against the half wall currounding the roof, the smaller femboy's legs wrapped around his waist, his body bouncing with every powerful thrust. Sky's fluffy blond hair was a mess, his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a constant stream of broken, desperate moans.
"AHHHH—CROW—AHHHH—YES—AHHHH—!"
PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—PLAP—
Crow's hips snapped forward with brutal, relentless speed, his cocklet driving deep into Sky's stretched, eager hole. His fishnet top was still on, but his lace panties were long gone, discarded somewhere in the chaos. His pale body was slick with sweat, his purple-streaked hair stuck to his forehead, his grin wide and wild.
"THAT'S IT, SKY—TAKE IT—TAKE ALL OF IT—AHHHH—YOU'RE SO FUCKING TIGHT—!"
Sky's moans were just as loud as Jay's, a constant, shameless stream of pleasure that filled the room and mingled with the sounds coming from Otis's side of the dorm. His small body bounced on Crow's cock, his massive ass clapping against Crow's thighs with every downward drop, the wet PLAP-PLAP-PLAP blending into a chaotic symphony of flesh and breath.
"AHHHH—AHHHH—AHHHH—CROW—I'M SO CLOSE—I'M GONNA CUM AGAIN—AHHHHH—!"
"THAT'S IT—CUM FOR ME—CUM ON MY COCK—AHHHH—!"
Sky came with a scream that rivaled Jay's, his body arching, his hole clenching, his little cocklet spurting a thin rope of cum that splattered across Crow's stomach. Crow kept thrusting through it, his own orgasm building fast, his breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps.
"I'M GONNA—I'M GONNA—AHHHHH—!"
---
Back on the bed, Otis was right on the edge, his hips stuttering, his grip on Jay's hips tightening. The tight, pulsing heat around him was too much, the sensation overwhelming.
"Jay—I'm about it—I'm about to—"
At the same time Crow's voice joined his, loud and triumphant, finishing the sentence with a triumphant shout.
"—CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"
The sound of the word echoed through the room, and for one perfect, synchronized moment, both couples hit their peak together. Otis buried himself deep inside Jay, his body shuddering as he came, thick ropes of cum flooding the delivery boy's tight hole. At the same time, Crow slammed into Sky one final time, his own release spilling into the smaller femboy's waiting heat.
The four of them cried out together, their voices overlapping into a single, harmonic scream of pleasure. Otis collapsed forward onto Jay's back, his chest heaving, his heart pounding.
Crow slumped against the wall, Sky still wrapped around him, their bodies slick with sweat and cum.
"That was..." Otis started, but he couldn't find the words.
"Amazing," Jay finished, his voice soft and sleepy. "That was amazing."
---
The weeks that followed that first night with Jay marked a turning point in Otis's life. Something had unlocked inside him, some dormant part of his being that had been waiting for the right moment to emerge.
He found himself craving the connection, the intimacy, the way another body felt pressed against his in the dark. It wasn't just about the sex, though the sex was undeniably incredible. It was about the energy exchange, the way two souls could merge and become something greater than the sum of their parts.
Word spread quickly through Trinity Valley Community College. The quiet hippie with the long hair and the gentle smile was apparently a legend in the making. Otis earned the title of the weed plug, the guy who always had the best stuff at the best prices, the one who never skimped or shorted anyone.
But that wasn't what made him famous. It was the other title, the one whispered in dorm rooms and passed around at parties. The hippie stress reliever. The guy who could take all your tension and melt it away with nothing but his hands and his presence and that warm, patient energy he radiated like a second skin.
In three weeks, Otis slept with thirty-five people. Thirty-five different bodies, thirty-five different souls, thirty-five unique experiences that taught him something new about himself and about the world. Some were quick and frantic, a release of pent-up energy that left both parties breathless and satisfied. Others were slow and tender, hours of exploration that felt more like meditation than sex. He learned to read people, to sense what they needed before they even knew themselves, and he gave it to them without hesitation or expectation.
Four months into his journey, Otis had slept with his entire dorm wing. Every single person in his building had experienced his touch at least once, and many had come back for more. The numbers were staggering, the sheer volume of connections almost impossible to comprehend. But Otis didn't keep score. He didn't count the notches on his bedpost or boast about his conquests. Each encounter was sacred to him, a moment of genuine connection between two souls that deserved to be honored and remembered.
By the end of the academic year, the total had climbed to one hundred and eighty-two. Nearly double Crow's one hundred and two, a fact that his roommate never let him forget. Crow had been the one who started it all, the one who had seen something in Otis that Otis himself hadn't recognized. But even Crow was impressed by the sheer volume of Otis's journey. He would shake his head in disbelief, muttering about how the quiet hippie had become a force of nature, a sexual powerhouse disguised as a gentle stoner.
But Otis was never just about the numbers. As the year progressed, he found himself slowing down, becoming more selective about who he shared his energy with. The frantic pace of those early weeks had been exhilarating, but it had also been exhausting. He needed time to recharge, to reconnect with himself, to process all the experiences that had shaped him into who he was becoming.
By the time he finished college, Otis's total body count had reached an even two hundred. Two hundred souls, two hundred connections, two hundred moments of genuine intimacy that had left their mark on him. He didn't regret a single one. Each encounter had taught him something, shaped him in ways he was only beginning to understand.
Crow's path took a different direction. He never finished college, dropping out halfway through his second year to pursue what he called his "spiritual calling." In reality, that meant a series of odd jobs and questionable life choices that somehow always seemed to work out for him.
He had a talent for attracting people who wanted to take care of him, a rotating cast of admirers who paid his rent and bought him food and asked for nothing in return except the occasional moment of his attention. Crow called them his "simps," and he was perfectly content to let them support his lifestyle while he pursued his own pleasures.
Sky, the sweet little stoner who had started it all, took the most conventional path. He finished his nursing degree with honors and went on to become a family nurse practitioner, working in a small clinic that served the community he had grown up in. He still had that same adorable, earnest energy, that same willingness to see the best in everyone. His patients loved him, and he loved them back, finding a different kind of fulfillment in caring for others that Otis deeply respected.
Otis's own career path was more winding. After graduation, he bounced from school to school, working as a substitute teacher for about fifteen years. He taught in inner-city schools and wealthy suburban districts, in rural communities and bustling metropolitan areas. Everywhere he went, he brought the same calm, patient energy, the same ability to connect with people that had served him so well in his college years. He wasn't just a teacher. He was a presence, a calming influence in the chaos of adolescent life.
Eventually, the path led him to a small high school in Texas, where he found his true calling as a physical education teacher. His gentle approach to fitness, his emphasis on mindfulness and connection rather than competition and aggression, resonated with students who had grown up in a world that had been fundamentally reshaped by the Vanishing. He taught them to love their bodies, to appreciate the changes that had come, to find peace in movement and breath.
Now, at thirty-five, Otis had become the hottest PE teacher in all of Texas. His reputation had spread far beyond the small school where he worked, drawing attention from students and teachers alike. The college years were behind him, the wild days of weed and endless encounters faded into memory. What remained was a man who had learned to love himself and others, who had found his place in a changing world, and who was finally at peace with who he had become.
OTIS PLEASE LET ME SMASHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH