Percy's Fucktoy Adventure

Percy Jackson lay sprawled on his bed in the cabin at Camp Half-Blood, the sun filtering through the windows and casting a warm glow on his bare skin. His jeans were already undone, the zipper pulled down just enough to tease at what lay beneath. His hand rested lazily on his abdomen, fingers brushing the trail of dark hair that led south. He was alone, but the thought of anyone walking in only made the heat in his gut burn hotter.

He was always like this, always ready, always wanting. The gods had made him their plaything, and the campers… well, they weren’t far behind. Percy didn’t mind. In fact, he craved it. His mind drifted to the last time Aphrodite had visited him, her fingers tracing his jaw, her lips whispering promises of pleasure he couldn’t refuse. Gods, he wanted that again.

His hand slid lower, fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers. He could feel himself hardening already, the fabric growing tight against his length. Fuck, he was so horny. He didn’t bother pulling his boxers down, just slipped his hand inside, wrapping his fingers around his cock. A low groan escaped his lips as he gave himself a firm stroke, his thumb brushing over the head and smearing precum down the length.

Percy bit his lip, his other hand moving up to his chest. He pinched one of his nipples, rolling it between his fingers until it hardened. The sensation sent sparks down his spine, mixing with the pleasure building in his groin. He couldn’t decide which felt better; his own hand on his cock or the sharp tug at his nipple. Why not both? He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he continued to stroke himself, his other hand now alternating between his nipples, teasing and pinching until he was panting.

He needed more.

With a quick movement, Percy pulled down his boxers and kicked them off, his cock springing free. It was already fully hard, the tip glistening with precum. He wrapped both hands around it this time, stroking from base to tip in slow, deliberate motions. His hips bucked slightly, seeking more friction, more pleasure. Gods, he could cum just like this. But he didn’t want to. Not yet.

Instead, Percy shifted again, spreading his legs wider. His free hand slid down, fingers trailing over his balls before moving further back, brushing against his asshole. Fuck, he was so tight. He pressed a finger against it, feeling the resistance, the heat. A shiver ran through him as he imagined someone else’s fingers there, someone else’s cock. Maybe a god. Maybe one of the campers. It didn’t matter who, as long as they fucked him.

He spit into his hand, using the saliva to wet his finger before pressing it back against his hole. Slowly, he pushed inside, the tightness making him gasp. It felt incredible, the way his body clenched around his finger, the way it seemed to echo the throbbing in his cock. He started to move his finger in and out, shallow at first, then deeper as his body relaxed. Fuck, he needed more. He added a second finger, stretching himself open, the slight burn only adding to the pleasure.

Percy’s breathing grew ragged, his strokes on his cock growing more erratic. His fingers buried deep inside himself, curling slightly, searching for that spot that made him see stars. There. He hit it, and his entire body jerked, a moan tearing from his throat. He was so close. His hips rocked back against his fingers, impaling himself deeper, faster, while his other hand worked his cock in quick, **** strokes.

He could feel it building, the pressure in his gut, the tension in his muscles. His toes curled, his back arched, and then he was coming, thick ropes of cum splashing across his stomach and chest. His fingers stilled inside him as he rode out the waves of pleasure, panting and trembling. Gods, that was good. But it wasn’t enough. It was never enough.

Percy collapsed back onto the bed, his fingers slipping out of his ass. He stared up at the ceiling, his cum cooling on his skin, his cock still twitching. He needed someone. Anyone. The thought of waiting, of being alone any longer, was unbearable.

He grabbed a towel from the floor, wiping himself off quickly before pulling his jeans back on, not bothering with the boxers. He’d find someone. One of the campers. Maybe Annabeth. Or Reyna. Or both. The thought made him smirk as he stepped out of the cabin, the sun warming his skin, the need still burning in his veins.

Percy walked purposefully, his hips swaying slightly, his hands brushing against his still-sensitive cock as he moved. He wasn’t picky. He just needed someone to take him, to fuck him, to make him feel alive again. His eyes scanned the camp, searching for a familiar face, for anyone who might be willing to indulge him.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice low and inviting. “Anyone up for some fun?”