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Soap. I was screaming internally. Not in fear—but in something way more confusing. My legs trembled, my breath came in shallow gasps, and my mind was a whirlwind of sensations and conflicting emotions. My eyes shot open, maybe it was an accident, I thought. “Dude, turn around. I was eager to prove I wasn’t just some scrawny guy who got winded climbing stairs. He’d seen me looking. I melted, dropping my head as he massaged little knots and sore spots I didn’t even know I had. And apparently, it wasn’t subtle. Pressure. He used one hand to soap up and massage my shoulders and back, and the other to finger fuck me to oblivion, controlling my body however he wanted. When he finally removed his thumb, I felt empty, bereft, like a part of me had been ripped away. Every movement sent electric jolts through me, lighting up parts of my body I didn’t even know existed. I was red, hot and throbbing down there, and a big, jock senior was soaping up my ass.