Bully Reunion - Part 4

All Characters Are 18+ And Consenting

Ryan just laid there in awe of what just happened. The weird thing was, he kinda liked the role reversal. Eventually he made his way back to his own bed in his own room. A slight limp in his step from the brutal fucking he just got. And even though he was gone now, the door between their rooms stayed open all night.

——————

The next morning was nothing but chaos and running around for most of the bridal party. Getting dressed, final touches to the flowers, etc. But for Ryan & Eli, it was mostly stolen glances and subtle touches.

In the groomsmen suite Ryan boxed Eli in at the mirror, pretending to adjust his tie that was already perfect. His knuckles dragged down Eli’s throat, slow and sexy, then lower, until his palm cupped Eli’s cock through the wool trousers and squeezed hard enough to make Eli’s breath stutter.

“Still wet from last night,” Ryan murmured, thumb rubbing the head through fabric until a damp spot bloomed. “I can feel you leaking for me.”

Eli’s hips jerked forward before he could stop himself. Ryan smirked and stepped away the instant Jeff walked back in.

By 11:15 the garden photos were finished and Eli was vibrating with raw need. He caught Ryan alone in the side corridor and dragged him into the narrow coat closet off the side. The door shut. Darkness swallowed them, thick with cedar, old fur, and the sharp scent of want.

Eli shoved Ryan down. Coats parted like a curtain. Ryan hit his knees hard, carpet muffling the sound. Eli already had his fly open, cock thick and flushed, a fat bead of precum trembling at the slit.

“Open your fucking mouth,” Eli ordered.

Ryan obeyed instantly. Eli fed himself in slow, savoring the stretch of Ryan’s lips, the wet heat of his tongue, the way Ryan’s throat fluttered when the head nudged the back. Then Eli gripped Ryan’s hair with both hands and started to fuck his face.

He used Ryan’s mouth exactly the way he had dreamed of for a decade: hard, punishing strokes that punched wet, choked noises out of Ryan’s chest. Spit spilled over Ryan’s chin, dripped onto his crisp white shirt in glossy ropes. Tears gathered at the corners of Ryan’s eyes, but he took it greedily, cheeks hollowed, tongue lapping the underside every time Eli pulled back.

Eli watched his cock disappear between those swollen lips and felt ten years of rage melt into pure, filthy lust.

“Remember calling me a cocksucker senior year?” Eli rasped. “Look at you now. The best man choking on the faggot’s dick five minutes before the wedding.”

Ryan moaned around him, the vibration ripping a growl from Eli’s throat. Eli’s balls drew tight. He slammed in once more, held Ryan flush to his groin, nose buried in Eli’s pubes, and came with a loud curse. Thick ropes of cum flooded Ryan’s mouth, coated his tongue, slid down his throat in heavy pulses. Ryan swallowed happily, throat working, milking every drop until Eli pulled free with a wet pop and painted one final spurt across Ryan’s cheek and swollen bottom lip. Then he slowly slid back in so Ryan could the final droplets.

Ryan stayed on his knees, slowly sucking Eli’s still half hard dick, cum streaking his face like war paint.

“Keep some of me in your mouth while she walks down the aisle,” Eli said, when the closet door suddenly flew open.

Light flooded in.

The groom, Jeff, stood frozen in the doorway, phone dangling in one hand.

Ryan was still on his knees, lips wrapped around the base of Eli’s cock, spit and cum shining on his chin. Eli’s hands were tangled in Ryan’s hair, pants open, hips pushed forward. For one endless second nobody moved.

Jeff found his voice first. “Jesus fucking Christ!”

Eli yanked out so fast Ryan nearly toppled. He spun, stuffing himself back into his pants with shaking hands, face on fire. Ryan rose slowly, wiping his mouth, cheeks flushed crimson, cum still clinging to his lower lip.

Jeff stared between them, eyes wide. “I was looking for my speech notes. They said check the coat closet. I didn’t think I’d find…” He gestured helplessly at the scene. “You two hate each other.”

Ryan cleared his throat, voice raw. “It’s…complicated.”

Eli couldn’t speak. Humiliation and residual lust churned so hard he felt dizzy.

Jeff took in Ryan’s swollen lips, the cum on his chin, Eli’s undone zipper, the unmistakable bulge straining both of them. Something shifted in his expression: shock, disgust, and then, slowly, reluctant amusement.

“You have four minutes until we line up,” he said finally. “Get your shit together!”

He backed out and pulled the door shut.

The silence was deafening.

Ryan exhaled, shaky. “Well. That happened.”

Eli leaned against the wall, head thudding back into a mink coat. “He’s never going to let us live this down.”

Ryan’s laugh was low, almost nervous. He reached out, thumb brushing Eli’s lower lip. “Worth it.”

They straightened clothes in frantic silence, wiped Ryan’s face with a pocket square, retied ties. Ryan licked his lips once more, tasting Eli, and gave a small, crooked grin that wasn’t quite a smirk.

Side by side they walked back into the corridor like nothing had happened. Jeff met them at the garden entrance, eyes flicking between them. He didn’t say a word, just clapped Ryan on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him and took his place at the front.

The ceremony passed in a haze of flowers and vows. Ryan kept swallowing, tasting Eli with every spoken promise from the couple in the middle. Eli stood two feet away, cool and composed, but his cock stayed half-hard the entire time.

Hours later, reception speeches began.

He was tired from standing at the ceremony and tearing up the dance floor afterwards, so Ryan stayed seated at the table holding a microphone, charming the room with practiced ease. Under the long white tablecloth Eli vanished when no one was looking. He knelt between Ryan’s spread thighs, eased the zipper down tooth by tooth, and pulled Ryan’s cock free. It was rock-hard, flushed dark, slick with precum. Eli licked a slow, filthy stripe from balls to tip, then took him to the base in one slick slide.

Ryan’s voice cracked on his very first joke. He recovered, kept talking, but his knuckles went white around the microphone. Eli worked him mercilessly: lips sealed tight, tongue swirling, one hand rolling Ryan’s heavy balls, the other sliding two fingers behind them to press and rub his taint. Every time Ryan tried to shift away, Eli dug his nails into Ryan’s thigh and pulled him deeper.

When Ryan reached the line “to love in all its unexpected forms,” Eli hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard. Ryan’s hips jerked. Cum surged, hot and thick, flooding Eli’s mouth in heavy pulses. Eli swallowed every drop, throat working, then licked Ryan clean with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue before crawling back to his seat and sipping champagne like nothing had happened.

In the stretch limo home, the wedding party screamed “Livin’ on a Prayer.” Ryan and Eli sat crushed together in the shadowed back corner, a discarded jacket hiding their laps. Ryan’s hand slid into Eli’s pants first, wrapped around Eli’s aching cock, and started a slow, filthy stroke. Eli returned the favor, fingers slick with leftover cum, thumb smearing over the head on every upstroke. They jerked each other in perfect sync, silent, eyes locked, biting their own lips raw. As they slowly started to lean in for their first kiss, the hotel lights appeared and stopped them. They had to tuck their boners away quickly and act innocent. 

Goodnights were slurred in the hallway and their doors closed separately.

Thirty seconds later Ryan’s adjoining door opened.

He stood naked, cock jutting heavy and flushed from the limo. His eyes burned on Eli  

Eli crossed the room in three strides and crashed into him. They hit the bed hard, tearing at Eli’s half-buttoned shirt and his belt. His shoes thudded to the carpet. Ryan flipped Eli onto his stomach and dragged his pants and briefs down just far enough to expose his bare ass.

“I’ve been waiting ten years to fuck you properly,” Ryan growled.

He spat into his palm, slicked his cock once, twice, then lined up and pushed in with one slow, punishing thrust. Eli’s back arched, a broken moan tearing out of him as Ryan bottomed out, balls pressed tight against Eli’s ass.

Ryan didn’t wait. He pulled back and slammed in again, setting a brutal rhythm that punched the air from Eli’s lungs. The bedframe banged the wall like a war drum. Ryan’s hand fisted in Eli’s hair, yanking his head back so he could bite down on the curve of neck and shoulder, marking him.

“Every shove in the hallway,” Ryan rasped against sweat-slick skin, “every time I called you a fag, this was what I wanted. You bent over, stuffed full of my cock, taking it like you were born for it.”

Eli could only moan, pushing back, fucking himself on every stroke. Ryan reached around, wrapped cum-slick fingers around Eli’s cock, and jerked him hard and fast. The angle shifted. Ryan nailed Eli’s prostate on the next thrust and Eli saw stars.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” Ryan snarled. “Gonna breed you so deep you feel me dripping out for days.”

Eli came with a choked cry, clenching hard around Ryan, cum pulsing over Ryan’s fist and the sheets beneath them in thick ropes. Ryan slammed in once more, then buried himself to the hilt and unloaded. Hot, thick spurts flooded Eli’s ass, so much it leaked out around Ryan’s cock, streaking down Eli’s thighs in filthy lines.

They collapsed sideways, Ryan still buried deep, arms locked around Eli like he’d never let go.

Ryan pressed his mouth to the bite mark on Eli’s shoulder. “Should have done that when we were eighteen.”

Eli laughed, hoarse and wrecked. “Yeah. You fucking should have.”

Ryan’s arms tightened. “Let’s stay like this tonight.” He said as he twisted Eli’s head around and finally kissed him for the first time. 

Eli twisted just enough to kiss him back, slow and deep, tasting himself on Ryan’s tongue. “Agreed.”

They fell asleep tangled together, ruined suits on the floor, cum drying on skin and sheets, Ryan’s cock still half-hard inside him like it was home.