How the fuck did Theo know? All that talk about me having amonster cockas if he could see right through my clothes. Right through me.
I spit into my palm and wrap my hand around myself, groaning at the contact. Just need to get this out of my system. One quick release and I’ll be fine. Back to normal. Back to myself.
I start stroking, finding a rhythm, eyes falling shut.
And there he is. Theo. Not how he looked at the bar, but transformed—stretched across some nameless bed in black lace that clings to his lean body. Stockings hugging his thighs. That fucking knowing smile on his lips.
“What do you want, Victor?” Fantasy-Theo asks, his cock pushing against the delicate fabric, the head peeking.
“Nothing,” I whisper in the empty stall, even as my hand moves faster. “I don’t want this.”
But in my mind, Theo’s spreading his legs wider. Beckoning me closer. Offering everything.
A deep groan tears from my throat before I can stop it, echoing against the bathroom tiles. I bite down on my lip to silence myself, but the images won’t stop flooding in—Theo on his knees, Theo bent over, Theo whispering filth in my ear while his small hands explore my body.
Fuck, I can’t stop thinking about how small he’d look compared to me. I’m at least a foot taller, a hundred pounds heavier. The thought of it—of him looking so delicate against me—is almost perverse.
And it turns me the fuck on.
I squeeze tighter, hissing through clenched teeth as pleasure shoots up my spine. My cock throbs in my hand, harder than it’s been in years.
In my mind, Theo’s no longer on some faceless bed. He’s bent over the edge of my fighting ring, gripping the ropes, those lean muscles in his back flexing as he looks over his shoulder at me. That same smirk from earlier, but hungrier now. More desperate.
“You gonna just stand there?” Fantasy-Theo asks, hooking his thumbs into the sides of a black thong I’ve never seen but can picture perfectly against his olive skin.
He drags it down slowly, revealing inch by inch of what has to be the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen. Round and tight, but with just enough give that my fingers would leave marks if I grabbed him.
“Fuck,” I grunt, stroking faster now.
Fantasy-Theo kicks the thong aside, completely naked now except for those stockings. He spreads his legs wider, and I can see his cock hanging between his thighs—not small like I would’ve expected, but decent-sized. Hard and heavy, the head glistening with precum.
“Come on, Victor,” he breathes, arching his back to push that perfect ass higher. “Show me what a real man feels like.”
I can’t hold back anymore—not in this fantasy, not with the way he’s displaying himself for me. I step forward, hands drawn like magnets to those perfect cheeks. My fingers dig into the flesh, harder than I mean to, but Fantasy-Theo just moans and pushes back against my grip.
“That’s it,” he breathes. “Show me how much you want this.”
I spread him open, exposing that tight puckered hole. It’s pink and perfect and nothing like anything I’ve ever wanted before. But now it’s all I can think about. All I need.
My cock throbs in my hand—both in the fantasy and here in this bathroom stall. I’m leaking everywhere, the head slick with precum as I imagine rubbing it against Theo’s entrance. In my mind, I tease him, circling that sensitive ring of muscle, painting it with my wetness.
“Don’t make me beg,” Fantasy-Theo whimpers, looking over his shoulder with those dark, knowing eyes.
But I want to hear him beg. Need to hear it. Need to know he wants this as badly as I do.
I imagine reaching for a bottle of lube—where it came from, I don’t know or care—and drizzling it liberally over his hole, watching it glisten, watching it drip down to his balls.
“Please,” he finally says, voice breaking just enough to satisfy some primal part of me. “I need you inside me, Victor. Now.”
I position myself, the head of my cock pressing against him. There’s resistance—he’s tight, maybe too tight for somethingas thick as me—but in my fantasy, it doesn’t matter. I push forward, feeling that initial pop as his body gives way, watching his hole stretch obscenely around my width.
Fantasy-Theo lets out a sound I’ve never heard before—part pain, part pleasure, completely intoxicating. His back arches sharply, fingers gripping the ropes of the ring so tightly his knuckles go white.
“Oh god,” he gasps as I sink deeper. “You’re so fucking big.”
In my fantasy, I’m pushing deeper now, sliding into Theo’s tight heat inch by inch. He’s so fucking small compared to me, his entire body shuddering. My hands nearly span his entire waist, fingers digging into flesh that yields so perfectly to my grip.
“Take it,” I growl, the words escaping in the empty bathroom stall as I stroke myself faster. “Take all of it.”