The Bucet List

Part Two

At night, while Jordan lay in bed, he could feel Caleb's presence. He never saw him standing in his bedroom or never caught him watching. But he knew. And somehow, it made him so turned on. He lay there fantasizing a sexual encounter with Caleb if he was there. Perhaps, outside in the hall. Maybe under his bed waiting for him to fall asleep.

Jordan kept a journal hidden listing all of his kinky and taboo fantasies and fetishes. Things he wished could really happen in his reality. Scenarios to act out, types of partners to try, and so on. This was his Bucket List.

As Jordan pulled his underwear down to caress his hard cock, he imagined Caleb grounding the doorway from the hall- standing completely naked and very erect. Then he imagined Caleb slowly stepping towards his bed. His large daddy cock swinging from side to side. Slow and cautiously Caleb pulls off the sheet to reveal Jordan's pale, toned body- shaking. Though Caleb knew he was not asleep, he said nothing.

Caleb gently spreads Jordan's legs apart and carefully lays on top and says......

"Get up!"

Jordan had barely rubbed the sleep from his eyes when Caleb's voice rolled through the house like a command.

"Up. Now!"

Jordan groaned, stretching his lean limbs. "What?"

"I said get up," Caleb called again. "Time to train."

Jordan stumbled out of bed in a loose tank top and shorts. His body still ached from the last session, and the last thing he wanted was another round of Caleb pushing him past his limits. But when he stepped into the main part of the house, Caleb was already waiting. Shirtless. Arms crossed.

Jordan swallowed hard.

Caleb's body was ridiculous--muscle carved into muscle, dark skin glistening just slightly from his own warm-up. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and Jordan couldn't stop his eyes from trailing downward.

Caleb smirked. "You always stare at me like that?"

Jordan snapped his gaze up. "I--no, I was just--"

Caleb stepped closer, his voice dropping to a slow, deliberate rumble. "Just what?"

Jordan took a step back, but Caleb followed, closing the space between them.

"Didn't think I noticed, did you?" Caleb said, his dark eyes locking onto Jordan's. "The way you watch me when you think I'm not looking."

Jordan's breath hitched, and Caleb chuckled. "It's okay. I don't mind."

Jordan's stomach twisted--half in embarrassment, half in something else. He forced himself to look away, but Caleb wasn't letting up.

"Come on," Caleb said, clapping a heavy hand on Jordan's shoulder. "Let's see what you're made of."

The workout was brutal.

Caleb didn't take it easy on him--every push-up, every squat, every weight was more than Jordan thought he could handle. And every time he hesitated, Caleb was right there, behind him, beside him, pressing against him.

"Keep going," Caleb murmured, his breath hot against Jordan's ear as he corrected his form. "You can take it."

Jordan's arms shook as he struggled through another rep. Caleb watched him closely, his gaze heavy, unreadable.

"You like this, don't you?" Caleb asked suddenly.

Jordan faltered. "What?"

Caleb knelt beside him, one hand on Jordan's thigh, squeezing just enough to make Jordan's breath hitch. "Being pushed. Being told what to do."

Jordan's face burned. He wanted to deny it. Wanted to say no, that Caleb was wrong. But he couldn't.

Caleb leaned in, his lips inches from Jordan's ear. "Good," he murmured. "Because I'm just getting started."

Jordan's heart pounded. He didn't know if he should run--or if he even wanted to.

Let me know if you want the tension ramped up even more or if you have any specific directions for part three!

Jordan's body ached in ways he didn't think were possible. He was drenched in sweat, his arms trembling from exhaustion, but Caleb showed no signs of slowing down. The older man stood over him, smirking, his massive frame barely winded from the workout.

"You held up better than I thought," Caleb said, nudging Jordan's ribs with the toe of his sneaker. "But you're still soft. We'll fix that."

Jordan let out a shaky breath, struggling to sit up. His muscles burned, but his mind was racing for an entirely different reason. Caleb had been relentless--always close, always touching. Hands gripping Jordan's waist, fingers pressing into his thighs under the guise of "correcting his stance," lips grazing his ear every time he whispered another order.

Jordan wasn't stupid. He knew what Caleb was doing.

And worse--he knew he liked it.

Caleb offered a hand, and Jordan hesitated before taking it. The moment their palms met, Caleb pulled him up with too much force, forcing Jordan to stumble forward--straight into Caleb's chest.

Jordan gasped softly, his hands instinctively gripping Caleb's bare shoulders to steady himself.

Caleb didn't move. Didn't step back. He just stood there, towering over him, watching.

Jordan could feel the heat radiating from his body, the steady rise and fall of his breath. His fingers twitched against Caleb's skin, and he knew he should pull away. But he didn't.

"You're a mess," Caleb murmured, reaching up to swipe a bead of sweat from Jordan's cheek with his thumb. The touch was slow, deliberate.

Jordan sucked in a breath. "I--I should shower."

Caleb's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Yeah," he said, voice deep and smooth. "You should."

For a moment, Jordan thought that was it. That Caleb would let him go.

But then Caleb tilted his head slightly. "Water pressure's better in my shower," he said, voice low.

Jordan's stomach flipped. "I--I'm fine using mine."

Caleb chuckled, stepping back just enough to let Jordan breathe. "Suit yourself," he said, turning toward the hallway. "But there's no door on your room. And I know you like taking your time."

Jordan's face burned. He noticed?

Of course, he noticed. Caleb noticed everything.

Jordan swallowed hard and turned away, practically fleeing toward his side of the house. His skin tingled where Caleb had touched him, and his thoughts were spiraling into places they shouldn't go.

By the time he stepped into his bathroom and turned on the shower, his hands were shaking.

The water scalded his skin, but it wasn't enough to drown out the thoughts in his head. The way Caleb smelled--like sweat and cedar. The weight of his hands all over his body. The way his voice settled in Jordan's bones like a command.

And worst of all, the fact that Jordan wanted him to keep pushing.

He pressed his forehead against the cool tile, exhaling shakily, "What the hell is happening to me?"