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Subject: When Opportunity Knocks: Chapter Five Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental. You may contact the author at Ulfr57@ All comments, suggestions and/or obsevations are welcome if presented respectfully. Please support and donate to the Nifty Archive! “When Opportunity Knocks” Chapter Five: Matt felt like shit! It wasn’t like he was physically sick or anything like that. True, there were parts of his body that ached, mostly from the pummeling he had endured from James Hatcher after school that afternoon, but this was more than aches and pains. What was wrong with Matt went deeper, this was an introspective hurt. Over the last few weeks, he had felt the changes Dr. Ventrov warned him about; he had even used what had been done to him to not only influence his brother, but Hunter Milsbane as well, as evidenced by the loud moans coming from his brother’s room as Brian was once again rutting Hunter’s ass much to Hunters apparent delight, judging by the intermittent squeals and groans emanating from him, along with the loud smacks of his brother’s hips as he slapped repeatedly against the muscular bounty of Hunter’s buttocks. This was his doing. He had made this happen, just as he had affected his family last week and Hunter in the isolation room. which begged the question: why wasn’t it working on James Hatcher? He had pondered this question ever since he got back home. Ran through it over and over again like it was on instant replay. But it was just a few minutes ago when he thought he accidentally stumbled upon the answer, he was just having trouble accepting it. That answer of course was simple, he had been influencing Hatcher, albeit subconsciously for the most part, but Hatch was definitely responding to Matt’s physical attraction to him, but without clear instruction from Matt, he was following through in his own way while still giving Matt what he desired. Which, unfortunately, was having sex with his childhood bully. Matt had weighed all the options, and just like Sherlock Holmes, he was forced to accept that what was left, no matter how improbable, was the truth. It wasn’t that his new abilities hadn’t manifested or been working on Hatch. What hadn’t changed was Hatch’s attitude toward Matt. Hatch was a homophobe who was being compelled by Matt’s abilities to be sexually responsive to him. In essence, Matt was subconsciously living out his adolescent fantasy with the first guy he had ever been attracted to. Sadly, that did nothing to stop Hatch from being what he always was, a homophobic, redneck prick. While Matt was now certain, moving forward, this would not be happening again, now that he was conscious of it. Like Hunter and his brother, he could steer things in a different direction, perhaps even push Hatch into something more productive, as was the case with Brian and Hunter. Matt thought about that too, debating with himself if he was doing right by either of them, but his encounter with Hatch had taught him something, Hatch, despite going through with the compulsion, still voiced his disdain and disgust with what they were doing, while Hunter had merely offered a tepid, less enthusiastic rejection that he might be gay while overwhelmingly enjoying the sex he had with both Matt and Brian. His continued squeals of delight as his brother fucked him in the next room, was all the proof he needed to understand that Hunter wasn’t as straight as he was professing to be. Luckily, Matt had found a way that seemed to satisfy both Brian and Hunter, while affording him a potential backup if the need for muscle and brawn arose. With the nefarious and secretive plotting of both Dr. Ventrov and Coach Myers, until he was able to determine what their real motives were in all of this, he couldn’t be caught without backup, should there ever be a need. Matt preferred to expect the best, but in all reality, he knew to prepare for the worse. Something that maybe he could work toward similarly with Hatch and the others in their little group. It would take careful planning on his part, but his thinking was, better the enemy you know than the one you don’t. Matt wanted to believe that he was just jumping to conclusions, that like Talia, who saw conspiracies everywhere, he had allowed his imagination to get away from him. But with what he had overheard Saturday at the lab, between Dr. Ventrov and Coach Myers, he was absolutely certain he wasn’t just being paranoid. Something was up and with what had happened between him and Hatch today, he was becoming increasingly convinced he needed to get to the bottom of it, sooner than later. That meant one thing. He was going to have to bring the only other person he trusted into this, his best friend, Talia Brooks. Still, that wasn’t going to be easy. Talia could be a handful at the best of times. Her time spent working as a reporter for the school online paper hadn’t dampened any of her more innate attributes. She had been and was very much like a dog with a new bone when she latched onto something. She just wouldn’t let go, her matchmaking with Blake notwithstanding. The real hazard here was not only admitting his own implicitness, but his subsequent behaviors since all this began, not least of which was what he had talked himself into doing with Blake, the first guy who had ever really shown him the slightest romantic interest. Matt was already going to have to leave out his sexual involvement with his brother, or at least part of it and it was already going to be hard enough admitting what he had been doing with James Hatcher and Hunter Milsbane, but what he was really dreading was filling her in on what he did to Blake. No matter what else he revealed, what he had done could potentially have some very real consequences for Blake. Even if his intentions were good, it was still done without his permission and if Talia found that out, without him having told her first, Matt was absolutely sure she’d throw him under the nearest bus and probably make them back up over his corpse several times for good measure. As tough as all this was going to be to tell her, it was going to be twice as hard telling Blake. He was just as sure that he needed to do that as he was that he now needed to involve Talia. This was all to much for just him to handle. First things first, he chided himself. Tomorrow he needed to confront James Hatcher and more importantly, see if what he suspected about his level of control was true or not. The coach had said as much, admitting even he could feel it to Doctor Ventrov and Matt hadn’t directed anything toward him yet. Maybe that should change, maybe, like Hatcher, he needed to put that to the test as well. All in all, Matt thought to himself, it looked like Tuesday at Avalon High was going to be interesting to say the very least. “Are you nucking futs!” Talia Brooks practically screeched, loud enough that half the quad turned to glower their way as she sat there across from him, during their shared lunch period, blistering and fuming after he finished outlining everything that had been happening since that initial meeting with Coach Myers. Everything, that is, except about his “little” sexual encounter with his brother Brian. Blake was there to, and between the both of them, Matt was actually more concerned about what he might think of him, knowing, that in the end, no matter how mad Talia was at him at the moment, she would eventually come around and have his back, no matter what. Blake was a different story though and now sat across from him, beside Talia, staring off into space, either unable or unwilling to make eye contact with him, compelling Matt to once again apologize: “I’m so sorry Blake. I let Hatch get to me and you’re such a sweet guy and you’ve worked so hard to win that scholarship…” Matt hesitated, his emotions getting the better of him once again: “I seriously thought I was helping!” The last part sounded more like a plea than an apology, and Matt knew it. The last thing he wanted right now was for Blake to hate him, but he was also mindful of the fact that it was extremely likely he would, and that he would have to accept that his actions, more than likely, have squashed any future relationship he might have with him. “Listen Matt…” Blake practically whispered, still not making eye contact with him, just staring at his own fingers as they fumbled together on the top of the table: “I get why you wanted to help sports-wise. In a way, I only have myself to blame, since I kinda dumped on you a couple of times about my concerns in maintaining my grades while also busting my ass to keep up on the team….” Blake paused, this time locking eyes with Matt, a bit of fire showing in his gaze: “But what Hatch said about…my… junk…” again he paused, his expression growing stern: “Ya know how sometimes when guy’s nickname a really big dude “Tiny”… well, that’s what the guys on the team have done with me and Hatch knows it.” He said the name Hatch like someone spitting on the ground like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. It finally dawned on Matt what he was saying: “Oh!” Matt muttered: “Do you mean you are actually, um… you know what I mean.” “Yeah…”Blake stammered, once again looking down at his hands as he added: “That’s why I’ve held off trying to get to intimate with you, I thought if maybe you got to know me first it wouldn’t scare you off when you found out how big I am… down there…” He kind of trailed off with the last part, but Matt understood what he meant. Not wanting to be left out, Talia of course did what Talia does best, point out the obvious: “So how big are we talkin’ here?” She mused, looking straight at Blake, practically demanding a response. “A little over ten, but its also fairly wide, kinda like a Red Bull can.” Blake’s face flushed a brilliant shade of red as he discussed his “endowments” as Matt did the calculations in his head; remembering what the Coach had told him about the pill possibly doubling a man’s genital size and output. Matt’s eyes went wide as he tried to picture the outcome for Blake, if what the coach said held up as true. Both Talia and Blake stared back at him questioningly, a troubled expression written on both their faces: “Out with it dipshit, how much bigger are we talkin’ here, one, maybe two inches?” This time it was Matt who couldn’t meet their expectant gazes, while simultaneously shaking his head in disbelief: “The coach said it could double a guys size down there.” he finally stammered as a stunned silence fell over their little group, only to be broke by Talia a few moments later: “Well, I guess it’s a good thing that Matt is such a fuckin’ size queen and with you havin’ the biggest dick in the world, he should be the happiest faggot on the planet, ain’t that right Matt?!” The wink and then the nod pointing to a worried-looking Blake, that she gave Matt, made him respond quickly: “This is my fault Blake, and if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, no matter what, we will make it work.” Matt tried to reach across the table to clasp his hands, only to have Blake pull back abruptly: “Listen…” he said via way of explanation: “I get that you thought you were just trying to help me, I really do, but…” He paused again, this time locking eyes with Matt, with a burning intensity he had never seen before: “you had sex with James Hatcher of all people, the guys a total douche bag and while the first time might have been before you and I started dating, that second time…” He didn’t need to finish, Matt understood perfectly well without the recriminations. “Hold up right there Mr. Wiley…” Talia interjected, putting her bitch face on: ‘You haven’t staked no claim on Matt yet, so you can’t go sex-shaming him because you didn’t have the testicular fortitude to man up!” Matt grumbled under his breath, pleading: “Talia this is my fault, not his.” “Dayum straight it’s your fault, who in their right mind would let James fuckin’ Hatcher anywhere near them?” She blurted, adding: “Which only goes to show how fucked up this all is, ’cause the Matt I know wouldn’t have ever let that sleazeball anywhere near him, not without a fight.” She was right of course. Before his participation in this little experiment, he wouldn’t have ever given James Hatcher the time if day let alone craved his lustful advances, let alone submitted to being used and degraded like that. Maybe he had been to quick to think that this was all his doing, that Hatch was picking up on some primal urge he had to bump ugly with his childhood crush turned oppressor. Could he possibly have gotten this backward? What if this had more to do with the changes Hatch was going through that were making him feel submissive to him. Just because he could influence Hunter or even his brother, didn’t mean that Hatch or any of the others were affected in the same way or to the same degree. What if what was happening to kocaeli escort Hatch was enhancing his dominant side and what was happening to Matt was taking longer to compensate because he was being hormonally seduced and overpowered by Hatch’s desires. Perhaps that was why it was taking longer to influence him and some of the others; when they were together, he was succumbing to their passions and desires instead of him assuming control over theirs. The coach had said as much, that it was only a matter of time before Hatch gave into it. If this is true, maybe all that was really needed was Matt consciously knowing what was wrong before he could fix it or assume some measure of control over it. Talia snapped her fingers, drawing their attention back to her, the bitch face expression fading and being subsumed by a more devious, conspiratorial one, that mainly showed in the steely, icy glare of her pale blue eyes: “I say we all agree that Matt did some stupid shit, but with what he’s told us, he may not have been acting of his own accord…” her tone lowered slightly as she looked around suspiciously, making sure they weren’t being overheard: “While we can’t undo what’s already been done, maybe we can flip the narrative here.” “I’m listening…” Blake said timidly, wondering what was cooking behind that mischievous, focused glare of hers. “First things first Blake.” Talia grimaced: “You know Matt did what he did, no matter how fucked up the reasoning behind it, because he cares about you, right?” Blake bowed his head, a faint blush if red tinting his cheeks before he quickly shot Matt a tentative side-eye glance and offering Talia a brief, though affirming shrug of his shoulders. Talia sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes: “Dude, give it up!” She began, in mock annoyance: “You’ve got the hots for Matt, Matt has the hots for you and like any dumb, hormonal teenage boy, he did something stupid, but with the best of intentions. Can we agree on that at least?” Blake locked eyes with Matt. The truth was he did see it and though he didn’t like the fact Matt did so without first discussing it with him, didn’t negate the motives behind those actions: “I don’t hate you Matt…”He said haltingly: “But I am worried about the effects your actions will have on me.” Blake could see the guilt in Matt’s eyes and the remorse glaring back at him as those very same eyes began to well up as he continued to hold his gaze: “There are things about me that neither you or Talia know that cause me even more reason to be concerned.” He held his hand up, stopping Talia from asking her next question: “I can’t explain those reasons to you right now, but you both need to know, whatever else is decided here today, I have to discuss this with my dad. He needs to know what’s happening just in case I start acting… differently.” Both Matt and Talia heard the emphasis on that word “differently”, while simultaneously realizing they weren’t going to get any further explanation for its use from Blake. “You know…”Talia offered cautiously: “That if you tell your dad, he could blow the lid off this whole thing and we may never get the chance to figure out what’s actually going on dontchya?” Blake nodded his head, staring from one to the other as he did so: “I know, but there’s more at stake here than just me or Matt. I’ll try to get my dad to hold off until we get a better picture of who or what we’re dealing with here, but either way, I have to tell him, for everyone else’s potential safety if not my own.” “Dayum dude…” Talia retorted: “Cryptic much?” Matt, of course, tried to be supportive, knowing full well they had little alternative. At least Blake was still talking to him, that was already more than he had expected would happen and if the price he had to pay was to have this all exposed, he would consider himself fortunate if the result was Blake totally not hating him for what he’d done. “If you need me to go with you to explain what I know…” Matt started to offer, when he felt Blake’s hand on his own from across the picnic table, clasping his gently: “Thanks for offering, but this is something I will have to do alone.” “Geez, get a room you two!” Talia mused sardonically, though she was happy to see Blake wasn’t completely shutting down what he so obviously felt for Matt, feelings that her best friend returned in kind with ever doe-eyed bat of his eyes as they continued to hold hands for a few more moments. “Awww, ain’t this fukin’ romantic!?” came the booming familiar baritone voice off to the side as a strutting James Hatcher approached them, sneering mockingly at the trio, with Steve Ramsey by his side, shaking his head stoically before bro punching Hatch playfully on the shoulder, in a silent show of support. Hatch turned to his friend, before clasping his own bulging crotch, hefting his meaty member suggestively as he spat on the ground, giving the group his most sardonic side-eye: “Ever think you’d see the day here at ol’ Avalon high when two queers sit holdin’ hands in the commons like they don’t have a care in the world?” Hatch purposely winked at Matt as he pursed his lips together and started making smooching sounds, while still suggestively squeezing the large bulge in his pants. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Blake rose up, every muscle in his body growing perceptively taut as he glowered back at Hatcher, his eyes seething in anger: “Take your bullshit elsewhere asshole and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Matt from now on!” There was something primal about the way Blake’s voice sounded, almost like a rolling snarl, the effect of which sent cold shudders down Matt’s spine as he also rose to stand as a barrier between the two. Hatch inched a step forward, glaring back at Blake: “And what if I don’t ya limp wristed faggot,ya gonna hit me with your purse?” For the briefest of moments, Matt thought he caught a glimpse of something glaring off of Blake’s eyes, but passed it off as a trick of the sun before whirling around to face Hatch himself, struggling to control the anger welling up deep inside him as he locked gazes with him. It was at that moment, as he faced off against Hatch and Ramsey, Matt felt a calm wash over him. It was as if he could smell the anger radiating off everyone, but also noticing the mounting sexual hormones vying for his attention. Not just from Hatch, but from Blake and Ramsey too to some extent. But there was something more he was aware of, despite his bravado, there was an underlying current of uncertainty, doubt, and fear radiating off Hatch, something he had sensed before but had never been able to identify, until now. Here, at this very moment, James Hatcher was an open book to him, one that only he could read. Unlike their previous encounters, there was no burning desire welling up in Matt for his childhood crush. True, that raw sexual energy was still there, still attempting to pull at and drawl at him, but he could sense it now, knew it for what it was. It was like every fiber of his being had come to life in these last few moments, making him more aware of the people around him than he had ever been before. He could sense that Talia was just days away from her period, that right now she was in her fertile, ovulating stage. Ramsey, though feeling every bit as horny as Hatch, lacked any sustained interest in what Hatch was doing right now and was on the verge of leaving his friend to it. Hatch, of course, was the easiest to read, since he was the one he was the most concentrated on. But Blake was different. He didn’t know how, nor could he put his finger on it, just that it was far more primal than what the others were broadcasting, and all he was sure of, if Hatch had a lick of sense left in his head, he’d be a lot more afraid than he was right now. Even Matt was afraid and Blake’s anger wasn’t even leveled at him. One thing was certain though if he didn’t shut this down quickly, someone was going to get seriously hurt, so Matt concentrated, focusing his will on Hatcher, mirroring what he had done to his brother that first time and like Hunter afterward. But unlike them, however, he wasn’t trying to ramp up anyone’s libido. In fact, quite the opposite. He also wasn’t just focusing on Hatch, though he was his primary concern. He was attempting to send different directions to different people, something he had only done once before with Brian and Hunter. At first, by all appearances, things seemed to be held to a standstill. Even Talia was remaining relatively quiet. Matt had half expected her to be the first to jump up and get in Hatcher’s face, but thankfully she seemed content to sit this one out. Unusual behavior for her, Matt thought, but perhaps she was biding her time to see how things would play out between Blake, Hatch, and himself before interfering. Whatever the reason, Matt was grateful for it, because it gave him one less person to focus his attention on. When Blake suddenly brushed up against him from behind, Matt’s first thoughts were that he wasn’t making any headway, but then he saw Ramsey try to pull James away by his arm, tugging at him and saying they should split before they got into trouble. It was exactly the message Matt had been pushing out to the pair, while simultaneously trying to send a soothing feeling of calm to Blake. For a few brief moments, Matt was certain it was going to work as Hatch allowed Ramsey to pull him away a few steps, but then he abruptly jerked away from him, shoving Steve in the process and calling him a pussy. Thankfully, that had done it for Steve, who just flipped Hatch off and stomped away, informing Hatch he was on his own, that he had better things to do than getting suspended for his bullshit. That left just Hatch, and Blake, with Matt separating the two by less than a couple of yards from each other, and with Blake pushing against his back and Hatch nudging his way forward afoot at a time, Matt knew it wouldn’t be long before the pair squared up nose to nose. Instinctively Matt knew what the problem was. In all his previous encounters, he had just been pummeling his targets with sex pheromones, which was like throwing gas on a fire as far as teenage boys were concerned, but what he was doing now was completely different and far more complex. He was trying to will them both into submission, which seemed to totally go against either of their natures. Thinking quickly, Matt knew he needed a different approach. He needed to tap into something that would affect them both instead of dividing his attention between the two of them. Matt did just that. Ignoring Blake completely, Matt whirled on Hatch and blasted him with waves of the pheromones he was most familiar with whenever he thought of Blake and Talia, or his mother and father. Matt blasted Hatch with what he could only identify as love pheromones and the effects were almost immediate. Like flipping a switch, Hatch’s hard angry edge softened. The glowering grimace he had mere seconds ago faded and shifted, his demeanor became more sedate, the fury in his eyes abated and Hatch began to radiate more palliate behaviors. The gentle hand on his shoulder, from behind, affirmed that Blake was also affected and now behaved accordingly. Matt turned to Blake, clasping his hands in his own: “Hey Blake, why don’t you go see if Talia is okay, I’d really appreciate it.” He cooed softly to him and watched as Blake reluctantly pulled his hands from Matt’s, the disappointment over the sudden absence of his touch written in his now sad eyes. But like a mooncalf, Blake complied, leaving Matt free to now deal with Hatch. Without hesitation, Matt walked up to James Hatcher, who stared doe-eyed back at him as he approached. Gone was any trace of his former aggression, it had now been completely subsumed by a more euphoric bearing that seemed to bask in his proximity. As he stood there before him, he watched as Hatch averted the scrutiny of his gaze, casting them downward, and began softly rambling apologies: “I’m sorry Matt, I don’t know what I was thinking or doing. I didn’t mean all those terrible things I was saying…I just saw you holding hands with Blake…” A bit of the previous fire returned to Hatch’s eyes as he spoke Blake’s name, but Matt quickly squelched it with yet another wave of pheromones. “Blake is my boyfriend James, he’s allowed to hold my hand if he wants to,” Matt said, in low-level tones, as Hatch began shifting nervously from one foot to the other as if he were chaffing against Matt’s watchful scrutiny. “What about us?” he finally managed to stammer, looking furtively into Matt’s eyes, as if searching them for some semblance of affirmation. Matt could have chosen, at that moment to be cruel, but that wasn’t really in his nature. Instead, Matt offered him an alternative he felt more fitting the nature of his offense: “You don’t love me, Hatch, I’m pretty sure Ramsey is more your cup of tea, he’s quite the stud don’t you think?” Matt sent a few tendrils of lust kocaeli escort bayan along with the ones he was already infusing him with and watched with no small degree of satisfaction as a mischievous, somewhat lecherous sneer spread across Hatch’s face. “Ya think he’d be up for it?” he asked Matt anxiously as he turned his head to look in the direction Ramsey had left in. Matt smiled deviously: “Oh, I think he wants it real bad Hatch, though I’m sure he’ll want to play hard to get, so you might have to be patiently persistent until he comes around.” “Thanks, Matt, I’ll do that.” Hatch beamed, right before tearing away at a jot as he went off in search of an unsuspecting Steve Ramsey. Matt chuckled to himself as he rejoined his friends at the picnic table. “I would never have believed it until I saw it for myself” Talia stated, a little wide-eyed in awe at what she had just bore witness to, before turning to Blake, who sat there at the table with his chin in his hands staring dreamily back at Matt: “Can you do something about this now, it just seems a little much considering…” “Oh, yeah…” Matt muttered, a bit absentmindedly, pulling back on the pheromones still clouding Blake’s senses. It took a few minutes but Blake was soon shaking his head and glowering back at Matt: “Whatever that was, don’t ever do it again okay?” Blake fussed, not knowing whether to be mad or impressed over what just happened, before asserting: “I mean it, Matt, that felt creepy, sort of like being possessed.” “Dude, your like Professor X from the X-men or some shit like that.” Talia enthused, completely ignoring Blake’s protestations: “Do me next!” she insisted optimistically, beaming back at Matt batting her eyes suggestively. “Let’s not and say we did” Blake blurted gruffly, cautiously eyeing Matt to make sure he didn’t take her seriously. He didn’t of course, choosing instead to point out that what he did wasn’t mind control, that what he was actually doing was infusing various hormones and pheromones that manipulate different responses through controlled stimulation via assorted physical senses, such as scent, and touch. Matt also suspected he could add taste to that list as well. “So, you’re basically messing with people’s body chemistry by triggering certain receptors in their brains to elicit a behavioral response?” Talia mused. “Look who’s been paying attention in biology class.” Matt chortled while eyeing the unopened sandwich bag of white seedless grapes going unnoticed right in front of her, suddenly feeling quite hungry for some reason. Talia absentmindedly tossed the bag in his direction, while speculating about the limits to Matt’s abilities as he ravenously stuffed his mouth full of grapes. “Using your abilities really affects you too doesn’t it?” Blake queried, his eyes still studying Matt’s every move closely. Matt just shook his head in agreement until he could finally down the mouthful he was chewing: “Sometimes it makes me tired as well, though not as much recently.” Cocking her head slightly Talia speculated: “Maybe it’s like a muscle, the more you work it the stronger it gets.” Matt considered that for a moment before responding: “I think that’s part of it, but it’s also about the complexity of what I want to happen, and I’ve noticed the simpler the emotion the easier it is.” Talia’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grimace of recognition: “So, you seriously just made James Hatcher fall in lust with Steve Ramsey?” Matt grinned sardonically: “It was easier than I thought it would be, though it shouldn’t surprise me. I’ve noticed sex, fear and anger are among some of the easiest things to stimulate.” “That’s all good and well…” Blake posited, his eyes narrowing as his brow furrowed: “But I have to wonder what the coach and this doctor’s actual motives are? I think we can all agree it isn’t just to create some sort of new energy supplements for high school students.” “I think it’s safe to assume, with the Pentagon’s involvement, they have slightly higher ambitions than that.” Matt agreed. “Well, boys…” Talia bristled excitedly, drawing their attention to her as she looked around the area suspiciously, before leaning in and continuing in a hushed, conspiratorial tone: “Sounds like we have us our very own mystery to solve. “You guys in!?” “Your dad seemed really nice.” Matt mused hesitantly, if for no other reason than to break the awkward silence that had fallen between them as they drove down the road on the way back to Matt’s house after his meeting with Blake’s dad. It had been two days since he had revealed what he knew about Dr. Ventrov’s and the coach’s “special project” at the school, as well as Matt’s subsequent dosing of Blake using stolen supplements he had obtained while working the previous Saturday at the ReGen Pharmaceutical Lab. Since that meeting, the three of them, Matt, Talia, and Blake had been meeting frequently, before and after school, in the space, Talia had previously been using solely as her own private space at home, where she usually worked on the various stories and topics that would be covered for the school’s weekly news and entertainment blog and podcast. Previously, it had been an old abandoned garden shed she had appropriated for her personal use on the edge of her families property, which conveniently worked out for everyone concerned since its location allowed them to come and go as they pleased without too much notice by her family since they could access it from the back alley, where they usually parked anyway. It may have been only a twelve by sixteen-foot garden shed, but to Talia, it was conspiracy central HQ and reflected that with the entire back wall set up with desk and monitors and various surveillance equipment she had either bought or appropriated from her father, the town sheriff, over the years. There wasn’t an area in her yard or the back alley that she didn’t have keyed into her monitor system remotely. Several file cabinets, a huge whiteboard as well as a large corkboard, that filled half the space behind her desk rounded off the whole stereotypical noir detective aesthetic she had going on, further lending to the whole Scoobie Squad vibe they often joked about and compared themselves to. It was during their first meeting there, later that first afternoon immediately following school that day, that both Talia and Matt had talked Blake into waiting to reveal too much to his father too quickly. Both Matt and Talia had reasoned, that if he went straight to his dad and revealed everything, then it could potentially blow whatever element of surprise they might have, and while they did have some rather good evidence to produce, what they lacked was the overall minutia of details needed to complete the picture. While they may know the initial, principal players, they didn’t know who was fronting the bill for it, they had an idea it somehow involved the military but they had no solid proof of that, let alone who the doctor’s contacts were. More importantly, they didn’t know if what the doc had been giving the guys was actually causing anything other than instilling them with the confidence to push themselves into working harder to achieve certain goals. For all they really knew, the pills he had been giving them were nothing more than placebos, whose sole intent was to boost the participant’s confidence in themselves, thus allowing them to push beyond their normal accepted psychological limitations. Sure, what Matt could do was rather easily demonstrable, but what proof did they have that he didn’t always have that capability? One way, they had reasoned, was to maintain their own records of the changes that both Blake and Matt underwent going forward as well as adding the ones Matt was taking of the other guys. Another way was keeping a detailed log of the sundry first-hand observations and discussions Matt had with both Coach Myers and Dr. Ventrov. Talia had even suggested Matt get used to recording his interactions with them, when he could, using his cell phone and perhaps even bugging the coach’s office. Of course, securing the pill packs Matt had pilfered was first and foremost their biggest concern, with Blake having the brilliant idea of dividing the cards into four separate pieces and keeping them in different locations just in case their absence became suspect. They had all agreed that was the best plan of action and each of them had taken their divided portions and hid them without the others knowing their whereabouts, while keeping the fourth, partially used portions there at the “Mystery Shack” as Talia had dubbed it. Of course, one of the most worrying things for Matt, over the last two days, had been Blake’s tepid interactions with him after revealing what he had done. Not that he blamed him, his actions had been rather deplorable, no matter how well-intentioned. That’s why Blake’s sudden and unexpected invitation that afternoon to come by his place for dinner with his dad and him had been such a surprise. It had been after they had all three gathered after school at Talia’s, to pour over the older notes Matt had downloaded from the pad he used at school, for the doctor’s records. Matt was fairly certain Talia had a hand in that, her having seen herself as being their personal arbiter, having had a vested interest in her match-making skills. Either way, Matt was thankful for the opportunity, though suspecting he still had a long way to go in making amends for his flagrant disregard for Blake’s personal boundaries and bodily autonomy. Dinner had been nice, consisting of one of Matt’s personal faves, meatballs, and spaghetti, and Blake’s dad had been charming and very much the down-to-earth kind of guy he had imagined him to be. What he hadn’t expected was what a stud Blake’s dad was. Not only could he whip up a nice meal but his rugged good looks and the gym-toned body were a testament to the shared genetic blend he had with his son. Blake definitely took after his dad. He had often heard guys say, if you wanted to see how a woman would turn out, all you had to do was look at her mom, and if that adage held true with guys and their dads, then Matt had hit the jackpot where Blake was concerned. Robert Wiley, or Rob as he liked to be called, was a well-put-together, older version of his offspring. At six foot one, he was a well-packed, solid framed man, with wide shoulders and a barrel chest and tapered waist, and judging by the thick tuft of curly chocolate brown hair that spilled over the lapel of his partially unbuttoned blue flannel shirt, Matt was certain he could add hirsute to that description. It was obvious Blake’s dad spent probably as much time in the gym as his son did, judging by the way he filled out his clothes. There was just an air to the man, that reeked of masculinity. Not in the stereotypical toxic way, but in a stalwart, take charge, the buck stops here kind if way. Of course, the deep, piercing green eyes didn’t hurt either. At thirty-eight, though no spring chicken, his appearance belied his chronological age, appearing to Matt more like a much older brother than the father of an eighteen-year-old, who matched him in size and appearance if not totally in disposition. Rob Wiley was far more outgoing and socially amiable than Blake was. A fact that Matt was sure of was mostly due to his age and life experiences. But if Rob was any indication of what awaited Blake in the future, Matt reasoned he could have done a lot worse than mirroring the man his father had become. The dinner had been nice and Blake’s dad had been charming, asking all the typical questions Matt would have expected a concerned parent to ask while maintaining a level of brevity that had made his inquiries more conversational sounding than some grueling, uncomfortable parental scrutiny. The only awkward part of the evening had come about when Matt had innocently asked about the absence of Blake’s mom. Blake had just hung his head, leaving his dad to answer. Which he did. To Matt’s surprise, Blake’s dad and mom had never married. They met one summer when Rob was working as a freelance mechanic wandering around various locations throughout Texas a couple of years after his eighteenth birthday and graduation from high school. He had been chumming around with some childhood friends he had made down there during one of his frequent trips with his own father throughout his life growing up. The same place, somewhere outside Lubbock Texas, near a secluded small lake, that Blake often visited with his dad, that he had met and fell for a local girl in the area. They saw each other, off and on for a while, when one day she came to him and informed him she was pregnant with his child. The problem was, she was only nineteen and she didn’t want to get married, nor did she want the baby. At first, she had talked about getting an abortion, but Rob and his dad had talked her out of it, assuring her, that if she carried the yahya kaptan escort baby to term, Rob would take the child and she would never have to see it again if she didn’t want too. That had been a little over eighteen years ago and after having Blake, she disappeared from their lives and they have never heard from her since. Matt had been rather flabbergasted with the matter-of-fact way Blake’s dad had discussed it, but apparently, from the start, Blake had been made aware of the circumstances of his conception and subsequent birth and seemed to bear no animosity toward his mother. As Blake had put it when he saw the concern in Matt’s eyes: “How can I miss someone I’ve never known and who never wanted to be a part of my life?” Matt saw something else that evening as well, there was a tight bond between Blake and his father, one forged from mutual admiration and trust, a trust Blake was now jeopardizing by asking him to keep Matt’s secret. It was a sobering thought, one that Matt had running on a loop in his head ever since and was troubling him to no end as they drove inexorably toward their destination. “Can you pull over somewhere for a minute?” Matt asked, the need to clear the air between them weighing heavily on his shoulders. Blake shot him a quizzical glance right before veering off into the now-closed shoe mart lot, parking his truck and shutting off the engine. Matt swiveled in the passenger side seat to better face him as he gathered his thoughts while Blake waited patiently for him to say whatever was on his mind. After what seemed an interminable amount of time, Matt finally managed to mumble hesitantly: “Why did you ask me to dinner tonight?” Blake seemed to consider his words before shrugging his shoulders and glancing in his direction, the dark silhouette of his handsome features highlighted by the incandescent glow of the street lights: “My dad wanted to meet you and thought it was a good idea to have ya over for dinner.” Matt found his response rather innocuous under the current circumstances: “I don’t understand, does this mean you’ve forgiven me for violating your trust?” he asked, finding his reason rather suspect, considering… Blake sighed, bowing his head slightly: “I admit, I was pretty pissed off initially…” he began haltingly: “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that though what ya did was pretty stupid and reckless, ya really did have the best of intentions. That’s gotta account for something doesn’t it?” he concluded. Matt felt a cautious surge of elation at hearing Blake’s words and found himself scooting closer to him, his right hand reaching over to lay on Blake’s thigh: “I really do want to earn your trust back Blake and if you give me half a chance, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you, I swear it!” Matt hoped that Blake believed him, he was being as genuinely sincere as he possibly could, adding: “You’ve been the best thing to happen to me since I started high school.” “Truth be told…” Blake posited, his hand grasping the one Matt had on his thigh and squeezing it tightly: “Until I ran into Talia while hangin’ out with Roger a few weeks ago, I never thought in a million years you’d even consider given someone like me the time of day, let alone agree to go on a date with me.” Blake’s comment forced a near incredulous laugh from Matt, causing a misunderstanding Blake to withdraw his hand from Matt’s. Matt blanched, almost horrified at the idea that Blake thought he was mocking him, suddenly realizing how it might appear to him causing him to reach for Blake’s retreating hand and clasping it between his own: “No, No, No!” Matt insisted hurriedly: “I wasn’t laughing at you I was laughing at you thinking you weren’t good enough for me when it’s clearly the other way around.” Almost instantly, he could feel Blake’s hand relax in his own as he slowly leaned in and planted a timid kiss on Matt’s lips. That was all it took. Days and weeks’ worth of angst and anxiety were swept away in an instant, all because of a few selfless words spoken from the right person at the right time. Matt practically leaped into Blake’s strong arms, smothering his mouth with his own, throwing his arms around his neck hugging him tightly until he felt his body melt against his. “I want you, Blake Wiley!” Matt gasped in between breaths as they continued devouring each other’s mouths as they were swept away in a torrent of pent-up emotional releases. “I ain’t sayin’ no!” Blake chortled lustfully as he felt the cheek of Matt’s ass grind against the swelling expanse of his crotch as his fat dick stretched down the leg of his inner thigh, obscenely bloating the fabric of his jeans. “Where can we go?” Matt mewled in Blake’s ear as he licked and sucked at his earlobe, before biting it playfully, tugging on it as Blake’s fingers gripped the cheeks of his ass firmly, kneading them like to loaves of bread dough. “I don’t know..” Blake groaned, his thoughts scattered as the heat of the moment flooded over him, depriving him nearly of all restraint and reason. “Fuck it!” Matt hissed, scooting off Blake’s lap so he could lean down and bury his face in Blake’s heated crotch as his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle and the zipper of his blue jeans. Blake often went commando and tonight was no exception and Matt had little trouble unfastening his jeans before he was attempting to tug them down past Blake’s ass and hairy muscular thighs. Matt had been surprised by a lot of things recently but the biggest surprise was the one that popped free from the confines of Blake’s pants and nearly smacked Matt right in the face in the process. To call Blake hung was an understatement. The pulsating rod of turgid flesh that sprung from Blake’s loins was like a shining beacon of wanton desire that pulled at Matt’s senses. Upon hearing Blake describe his endowments earlier that week as sizeable, did little to actually prepare for the reality of it in the here and now. When Blake had spoken of it, he had pictured something akin to Hatch’s extraordinary masculine bounty, but the meaty phallus throbbing ever so close to his startled face, went well beyond Hatch’s by at least two inches in length and nearly half again in girth. Nearly twelve swollen inches of practically wrist thick cock beckoned to his hungry lips as even his pure, raw unfiltered masculine scent wafted through his nostrils overpowering his senses and filling him with the pure unadulterated urge to devour his uncut manhood. But before doing so, Matt chanced a sideways glance into Blake’s glazed-over eyes as he stared almost forlornly down at him: “I know it’s really big…” He stammered dejectedly: “We don’t have to do nuthin’ if its more than ya bargained for.” In answer, Matt smiled mischievously up at him, holding the lock he had on his Blake’s gaze as he slowly allowed the tip of his drooling tongue to slip past his lips to swab the smoldering tip of his steely schlong. Blake moaned deeply as Matt’s overstretched lips parted like a fleshy sheave that soon encompassed the entirety of his palpitating, tennis ball-sized glans and began gently sucking it as his tongue continued sluicing away the copious amounts of continuously bubbling pre-cum that flowed from his belching piss slit. “Fuck me, that’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt…” Blake groaned, his voice growing thicker and deeper as his desire mounted. For Matt, Blake’s words held a twofold meaning. One, he was thoroughly enjoying his oral skills and the second was that he was more sure than ever, that Blake was a virgin. Each unto itself was enough to fuel Matt’s passions but combined they became a driving impetus that propelled him to reckless abandon as he forced even more of Blake’s engorged member into his mouth and into the entrance of his gulping throat. For his part, Blake was being driven nearly mad with what he viewed as the culmination of his youthful yearnings, the realization of his hidden, innermost longings. Since his sexual awakening, several years previous, when his thirteen-year-old self caught the first whiff of an equally young, golden-haired Matt McCormick in their fourth-period remedial English class. Blake had made it his mission to take in that heavenly scent as often as possible by seating himself directly behind him in every shared class they had since. For as long as he held such primal urging’s, Matt had been at the center of those carnal cravings, and now that his warm wet mouth was wrapped tightly around his burgeoning member, Blake could scarcely consider or picture himself wanting to be anywhere or with anyone else. From the very first day he had made that connection and every day since his desires had elevated Matt to an exalted position; the epitome of angelic perfection that he thought well beyond his grasp and reach. Yet here he was now, devouring his prodigious manhood like a snake gulping down its living prey, sheathing his meaty sword in the smoldering depths of his fleshy oral sheath, sucking him into the blissful abyss of an unbridled vortex of hedonistic ardor. Blake surrendered himself to it, succumbed to Matt’s relentless hunger by clasping the back of Matt’s head and forcing the full length of his massive cock into the virginal depths of his undulating esophagus and as his large, egg-sized cum laden balls ground against Matt’s taut, overstretched lips, Blake released the full fury of his lascivious fervor, by erupting massive volley’s of thick, viscous ropes of jetting splooge into his gulping, spasming oral canal, flooding it relentlessly to near overflowing as he pumped tightly against Matt’s suctioning lips. For Matt it was like being nearly drowned in what first appeared to be an endless, near pissing gush of seminal juices that smoldered and pummeled the lining of his throat as Blake’s pubes ground coarsely against his straining lips, forcing Matt to gulp in convulsing heaves the near-ceaseless cavalcade of erupting jism that gushed from Blake’s huge, musky gonads. Matt had thought no one could match the plethoric bounty of Hunter Milsbane’s carnal discharges, but Blake exceeded all possible human expectations, going well beyond any real or imagined measure Matt had encountered or considered previously, and as his voluminous discharge continued to erupt unabated, the thought did occur to Matt that he could very well drown in the ocean of sperm spewing from Blake’s spitting urethra, but the overwhelming craving and lascivious yearnings that spurred his libido, pushed him beyond his physical limitations, surrendering him to his fate, by continuously suckling and harvesting the testicular bounty of Blake’s spewing, meaty pole. At the height of Blake’s explosive orgasm, while still finding encouragement from the ceaseless grunts and hearty lustful groans, there was a point where Matt was certain, those very same grunts had changed abruptly to what Matt could only define as near animalistic snarls and growls. Deep and primal, guttural emissions best described as bestial in nature. It became a pivotal point in their first encounter and one that had elicited a primal response from primordial depths of Matt’s brain that instinctively called for and demanded his complete submission. He had never felt or experienced anything like it and enjoined with the steely, vice-like grip of Blake’s large callused hands combined with the tight, forceful thrust of his powerful hips, overwhelmed any conscious thought of fleeing the predicament of his fate. He became the fleshy embodiment and vessel for Blake’s manhood and virile, potent seed. A willing, supplicant, and repository of his masculine profundity and enduring austerity. What was the need for air compared to that? Matt gave himself wholly, wantonly. Surrendering himself completely to Blake’s carnal ministrations, succumbing completely to his will, his needs, and desires. He did what countless eons of evolution demanded of those in desperate roles experienced like Blake and Matt. Matt fulfilled that purpose. He sucked and swallowed until Blake released the very last dregs of his voluminous expulsions. Basked in the warm comforting glow, suckling and savoring the satiated ravenous, bestial ecstasy that yet throbbed buried in his throat until he slowly regained some portion of his composure and slowly released the still turgid magnificence of Blake’s majestic meaty scepter. Gasping for breath, in between the languishing swabs of his cum drenched tongue, as he lapped the sweat off Blake’s big hairy balls, Matt smiled contentedly up at Blake as one of his hands gently stroked his hair. “I could get used to this.” Blake quipped impishly as he stared down at him before lifting Matt’s head to his own and smothering Matt’s lips with his, tasting the pungent, saline remnants of his own ejaculate as his tongue slipped between Matt’s parting lips, probing his mouth with his oral digit, smothering and muffling his contented mewling and moans. And as their lips finally parted, Matt cooed playfully in his ear: “You ain’t seen nothing yet Mr. Wiley!” Thanks for reading the continuing adventures in “When Opportunity Knocks”. Just a reminder, I also post this story, as well as others over on my own site, where I also post related and nonrelated artwork pot/

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