Getting Chad alone

Tom arrived at the frat house, his heart pounding with anticipation as the thumping bass of the Halloween party spilled out into the night. The California air was warm, carrying the scent of cheap beer and weed, and the sprawling house was alive with costumed college kids spilling onto the lawn. Tom adjusted his slutty schoolgirl outfit, the short pleated skirt barely skimming the tops of his thick, tanned thighs, his big bubble butt threatening to pop out with every step. The tiny blouse clung to his slim torso, unbuttoned just enough to show off his smooth, toned midriff, while the fishnet stockings hugged his powerful legs. His long blonde hair swung in pigtails, and his cherry-red lips glistened under the porch lights, the heavy makeup making his blue eyes pop. He looked like a blonde bimbo straight out of a wet dream, and he knew it—exactly the vibe he was going for.

Stepping inside, the chaos hit him full ****. The living room was a sea of bodies—guys in lazy superhero costumes, girls in skimpy cat ears, everyone clutching red cups and shouting over the blaring music. Neon lights flashed, casting wild shadows across the crowd. Tom’s hips swayed naturally as he moved through the throng, his ass jiggling under the skirt, drawing stares from every direction. He didn’t care about the whispers or the hungry looks; his eyes were scanning for one person—Chad.

And there he was, across the room, leaning against the wall with a beer in hand. Chad was dressed as a football player—predictable as hell—his broad shoulders and muscular chest filling out the jersey, the tight pants showing off his thick legs and the bulge Tom knew so well. He was surrounded by his frat bros, all loud and obnoxious, laughing over some dumb joke. Chad’s brown hair was messy under the helmet he’d half-assed as part of the costume, and his face was flushed from drinking. He looked every bit the straight-alpha jock he pretended to be, but Tom could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flickered nervously around the room. Chad wanted to forget that night in the dorm—Tom on his knees, those plump lips wrapped around his cock, swallowing every drop of his cum after Chad had smacked that fat, juicy ass. He was **** to erase it, to convince himself it was a fluke, that he wasn’t into “faggot shit.” But Tom wasn’t about to let him off that easy.

Chad spotted Tom almost immediately, his hazel eyes widening for a split second before he **** them away, chugging his beer like it could drown out the memory. His heart kicked up a notch, pounding against his ribs. "Fuck, Tom is here," Chad thought, then hated himself for it. He turned to his buddy Mike, laughing too loud at something he didn’t even hear, trying to play it cool. He wasn’t gay. No way. He just needed to stay the hell away from that slutty little femboy and keep his dick in check.

Tom, meanwhile, was in his element. He sauntered through the crowd, flirting shamelessly with anyone who caught his eye— didn’t matter. He danced with a tall dude in a vampire costume, who was so drunk he mistook him for a blonde girl, grinding his hips just enough to make his big butt bounce, knowing Chad’s gaze would drift back to him. And it did—every damn time. Chad’s eyes betrayed him, locking onto that swaying bubble butt, the fishnets stretched tight over those thick thighs. He gripped his cup harder, his knuckles whitening. "Just fucking ignore him. He’s just a fucking faggott," Chad told himself, but his cock was already stirring in his pants, and the jealousy hit harder when he saw some random guy put a hand on Tom’s waist.

The night wore on, and the booze flowed like water. Tom downed shots with a group of girls, giggling and tossing his pigtails, his skirt riding up higher with every move. Chad stuck with his bros, pounding beer after beer, the **** blurring the edges of his resolve. His head was fuzzy, his body loose, and every time Tom laughed that loud, obnoxious laugh, it grated on Chad’s nerves—and turned him on more. He hated it. Hated how good Tom looked, how that ass kept pulling his attention like a magnet. He tried hitting on a chick in a nurse outfit, leaning in close, but his eyes kept sliding back to Tom, and his dick wasn’t cooperating with the straight-guy act.

Tom could feel it—the shift in the air, the way Chad’s resistance was crumbling. He decided it was time. Weaving through the crowd, he made his way over, his heels clicking on the sticky floor. Chad saw him coming and stiffened, his jaw clenching. “Hey, big guy,” Tom purred, his voice dripping with honey as he stopped in front of Chad, close enough that his perfume—something sweet and slutty—hit Chad’s nose. “Nice costume. Bet you’d look even better out of it.”

“Fuck off, Tom,” Chad snapped, his words slurring slightly. He took a step back, bumping into the wall, his beer sloshing. “I told you to stay away from me, faggot.”

Tom just smiled, unfazed, leaning in a little closer. “Aw, don’t be like that, daddy. I’m just saying hi.” His hand brushed Chad’s arm, light and teasing, and Chad flinched like he’d been burned—but he didn’t pull away. His frat bros were nearby, shouting about a keg stand, too drunk to notice the exchange. Chad’s head spun, the room tilting from all the beer, and Tom’s touch was lighting him up in ways he couldn’t fight anymore.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Chad muttered, his voice low and rough, his eyes dropping to Tom’s lips despite himself. Tom smirked, stepping even closer, his chest almost brushing Chad’s.

“Maybe I am. Maybe you like it.” Tom’s hand slid to Chad’s bicep, squeezing just enough to make Chad’s breath hitch. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter? You look like you could use a break.”

Chad’s paranoia spiked. He glanced at his bros—none of them were looking, too busy chugging or hitting on girls—but the fear of being seen with Tom clawed at him. “No way,” he growled, but it sounded weak, his tongue thick with booze. Tom tilted his head, pouting those red lips, and Chad’s cock throbbed, betraying him completely.

“Come on, just for a minute,” Tom whispered, his breath hot against Chad’s ear. “No one’ll notice.”

Chad was too hammered to think straight. The room was spinning, his inhibitions shot, and Tom’s voice was pulling him under like a damn siren. “Fine,” he slurred, shoving off the wall. “But only ‘cause I’m too drunk to deal with your shit down here.” He stumbled forward, and Tom grinned, guiding him toward the stairs with a hand on his elbow.

They climbed the creaky steps, Chad swaying, his big frame unsteady as Tom steadied him. The noise of the party faded behind them, muffled by the walls as they reached the upstairs hallway. Tom pushed open a bedroom door—some random frat guy’s room, messy with clothes and empty cans—and pulled Chad inside, shutting the door with a soft click. The air was quieter, charged, the dim light from a lava lamp casting shadows over Tom’s curves.

Chad leaned against the wall, his head lolling slightly, trying to focus. Tom stepped close, his skirt riding up as he moved, that big, round ass practically begging to be grabbed. “See? Much better up here,” Tom said, his voice low and sultry, his hands sliding up Chad’s chest. “Just you and me, daddy.”

Chad groaned, his cock rock-hard in his tight pants, the **** drowning out the last of his protests. “I’m not gay,” he mumbled, but his hands twitched, itching to touch. Tom smirked, pressing closer, his body warm and soft against Chad’s muscle.

“Sure you’re not,” Tom teased, his fingers trailing down to Chad’s waistband. “But you want me anyway, don’t you?” Chad’s breath hitched, his eyes dark with lust and confusion, too drunk to resist the heat building between them.

Tom laughed softly, his hands roaming. “We’ll keep it nice and on the low, just how you like it.” They were alone now, the tension crackling, both of them primed and ready.