You are Bro Strider, but let's call you "Dirk",
The name your lover moans into your lips.
Your hands upon his ass doth work
As he grinds into your hips.
Vicariously, you claim him
As your tongues meld and caress.
As puppet to your every whim,
He's a melting, horny, mess.
You huskily murmur to his neck,
After the kiss you break,
"I'm sorry, babe, your shit is wrecked,
The 'Prince' is now awake."
He eagerly agrees with you, of which you're rather glad,
But let's not dwell upon that thought; let's ==> Be the other lad.
You are now Jake English, you lucky man,
Because holy tweedshitting twain,
You now have a boner (that was the plan),
And your boyfriend is melting your brain.
But exhibition you cannot do;
You feel strangers' looks abound.
The very idea just terrifies you,
You are afraid to have found.
"Oh, fuck, Dirk... stop, not here,"
You stutter through your groans,
"We're in public now, d-dear,
Can we please do this alone?"
You're hopeful that he noticed what you said was not a joke,
We'll have to see for sure when we go ==> Be the other bloke.
You are Dirk Strider once again,
You've stopped moving in shock--
You can't recall the last time when
Jake has turned down your cock.
He's clinging to you, terrified,
Adventurousness gone from sight.
You pause before your smirk turns awry;
You can still salvage the night.
You give his rear end one last grope
And then a playful smack.
You'll still get laid tonight (you hope).
You say, "Come, let's head back."
He smiles at you excitedly, with double pistols and a wink,
And, though your heart is beating fast, let's ==> Be the other twink.
You are again Jake English,
And Dirk's arm is round your waist.
And since he chose to respect your wish,
You kiss him, light and chaste.
He leads you to his motorbike
Outside this busy, Texan hub
You realize how deeply you are in like...
Good golly! You're so in love.
Around him, you do wrap your arms
As he speeds off into the streets.
The wind that whips you has its charms,
But the man makes your heart beat.
It's terrifying, really, how he can play you like a toy
But you wouldn't have it any other way, so let's ==> Be the other boy.
You, Dirk Strider, now carry
Your lover up some stairs.
There's need here to be wary--
Of this, you are aware.
But you can feel his bulging need
Pressed up against your chest
Your lust his passioned kisses feed--
Your boyfriend is the best.
You press his back up to your door
As you turn the key in lock;
"Wait 'til he sees what I've got in store,"
You think, as you rub his cock.
You lay him on the sofa and start fellating his dick,
With hopes that soon you'll make ==> Jake: Start moaning like a chick
You are Jake English, though the noise you just made
Doesn't sound like you one whit.
But it's not your fault; you've been delayed
And-- HOLY CHRISTFUCKING SHIT.
He suddenly takes you into his throat
(You'd forgotten, he can't gag).
In a sea of pleasure, you are afloat;
At your entrance, moist fingertips nag.
As he nudges in his digit,
Your hips upward do cant
But you cannot help but fidget,
And itch your fingers towards his pants.
The tension in your belly mounts still higher more, somehow,
Before you groan out in frustration, "==> Dirk: Just fuck me now!"
You are Dirk Strider, and you withdraw
Your fingers and mouth, per request.
You've plans to fuck your boyfriend raw;
Now, it's at his behest.
Over your erection your lubed hand then slides,
As you whisper sweet things in his ear.
You slowly sink your cock inside
His gorgeously plump, plush rear.
You pause for just a minute or two
(Time spent consumed with lust),
Before Jake starts to signal you
That now it's time to thrust.
His tight, hot passage beckons you, and you begin to fap
Your lover's cock to the pounding beat... let's ==> Be the other chap.
You, Jake English, arc into the touch
As both your hips collide and meet.
"Yes, faster! Harder! No, that's too much,"
You pant, toes curling into your feet.
He chances a chuckle into your cheek,
A secret laugh only you know,
And then he murmurs, "As you speak,"
And oh, fuck, does he go.
As closer and closer to the end you reach,
You moan out like a whore.
You find that you have lost all speech,
Except for "Dirk!" and "More!"
He stimulates that inner chord, and then your load you blow,
You make him follow you in bliss and ==> Cuddle in the afterglow.
You are Dirk Strider, tired yet content,
As you pull out of him with a sigh.
That English is a special gent;
It's true. You cannot lie.
You help him clean up, and then you spoon,
Before to your pants you reach down.
You wonder if now is too soon,
Before you set straight your soft frown.
"Jake, hon, I've got something to say,"
You drawl, trying not to sound harried.
"Y'see, I was wond'rin' if it'd be okay,
If I asked if we could get married?"
He pauses-- before smiling and saying, "Yes." You slip the ring onto his hand.
Then you exchange kisses tender and sweet as you ==> Drift off to dreamland.
You are Dave Strider, returning home
After a long night at John's.
(And anyone who guessed you were more than bros--
Well, they wouldn't be wrong.)
Your brother's bare rump dost thou greet
As in the living room you arrive.
An image you proceed to delete,
Before off the rooftop you dive.
"Sup, lil' bro," Dirk mumbles, awake.
"C'mere, meet your future in-law."
You now clearly see that he's covering Jake;
You can't stop the drop of your jaw.
"Is this a joke?" you ask out loud. Your Bro replies, "It ain't."
You aren't quite sure what to do, so, ==> Dave: Faint.