Buried Alive! The Last Wish Of a Horny College Boy

The weight of the earth was crushing. Jake's lungs burned with every shallow breath he could manage in the suffocating darkness. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at his throat. He was going to die here. He was actually going to be buried alive. Beside him, Matt was a trembling, silent mass of terror.
"Matt?" Jake whispered, his voice a dry rasp. "You still there?"
A choked sob was his only answer. Jake twisted, his shoulder screaming in protest as he tried to find Matt's hand in the absolute black. His fingers brushed against cold skin, and Matt clamped onto him like a vice.
"I can't... I can't breathe," Matt gasped, his voice thin with hysteria. "It's pushing in. I can feel it."
"It's not," Jake lied, his own heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs. "It's just the dark. We just have to stay calm."
Calm was a million miles away. The air tasted of dust and decay, thick and heavy in his chest. They had been exploring the old logging trail when the ground beneath them simply gave way. A sinkhole. A deep, narrow one. The fall had knocked them both senseless, and when Jake came to, the world was gone. The small opening they'd fallen through was now completely obscured by the dirt and rocks that had rained down after them.
"We're going to die," Matt whimpered, his voice cracking. "Oh god, Jake. We're really going to die."
The finality of it settled over Jake, a cold dread that extinguished the last of his panic and left a hollow, aching void in its place. He squeezed Matt's hand tighter. "Yeah. I think we are."
They lay there for an eternity, listening to the sound of their own shallow breathing and the frantic thumping of their own hearts. The silence was a physical presence, pressing down on them, filled with everything they'd never do and everyone they'd never see again.
"Regrets," Matt finally said, his voice flat, resigned. "I'm full of them. Not telling my dad I love him enough. That time I cheated on my chemistry final... Stupid shit."
Jake nodded into the darkness. "Me too. So many."
There was a long pause, so long Jake thought Matt might have passed out. Then he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper, as if he was ashamed of the words even as he spoke them.
"There's one big one, though. Something I never... did. Something I always wanted to, just once."
Jake waited, his own breathing suspended.
"I always wondered," Matt continued, each word heavy with confession, "what it would be like to be with a man. To feel... that. Just once, before I died. To know."
The admission hung in the stale air between them, electric and shocking. Jake's body, cold with fear moments before, flushed with a sudden, intense heat. He'd known Matt for three years. They'd shared classes, beers, and late-night study sessions. He was a guy's guy. Straight as an arrow. Or so Jake had thought.
"You?" was all Jake could manage to say.
"I know," Matt's voice was thick with self-loathing. "Pathetic, right? Dying in a hole and all I can think about is sex. With a dude. But it's... it's the one thing I'll never know now. The one curiosity I'll take to my grave. Literally."
Jake's mind raced. The fear was still there, a cold knot in his stomach, but something else was blooming alongside it. A reckless, desperate, life-affirming impulse. If this was it, if these were their last minutes on earth, did anything else matter? Did rules, or labels, or a lifetime of heterosexuality mean a damn thing?
He shifted, turning his body toward Matt in the suffocating confinement. He reached out, his hand finding Matt's face, his thumb stroking the rough stubble on his jaw.
"If we're going to die here," Jake said, his voice low and steady, surprising himself with its calm. "You don't have to die with that regret."
Matt froze. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying," Jake leaned closer, their faces inches apart in the oppressive dark. "I can help you find out."
He could feel Matt's sharp intake of breath, the hitch in his chest. "You'd... you'd do that? For me?"
"We're about to be a couple of skeletons in a mud hole, Matt. What does it matter?" Jake's thumb traced the line of Matt's lips. "Let me give you this. Let us both have this."
The space between them dissolved. Jake closed the final distance, and his lips met Matt's. It was clumsy at first, a collision of teeth and desperate uncertainty. But then it softened. Matt's lips parted, and Jake's tongue slid into his mouth, exploring, tasting. A groan rumbled in Matt's chest, and he was kissing back, his tongue meeting Jake's with a hunger that was startling, voracious. This wasn't a gentle experiment; it was a desperate, frantic clash of mouths, a battle against the encroaching darkness. It was life.
Clothes became an infuriating barrier. They tore at each other's shirts, fabric rending in the tight space. The cool air on Jake's bare chest was a shock, followed by the searing heat of Matt's hands sliding over his skin, mapping his pecs, his abs, digging into his back. Jake fumbled with the button on Matt's jeans, his fingers shaking with adrenaline and need. He yanked them down, along with his underwear, freeing Matt's already hard cock.
"Fuck," Jake breathed, wrapping his hand around the thick, rigid heat of him. Matt bucked into his grasp, a guttural sound tearing from his throat. Jake had never touched another man like this, but the familiarity was shocking, the raw, masculine power in his hand a mirror of his own desperate arousal.
They shed the rest of their clothes in a frenzy of movement, skin scraping against the rough earth and the debris of their fall. Naked, their bodies pressed together, the contact was a revelation. Hard muscle against hard muscle, sweat-slicked skin, the coarse hair on their legs tangling. Jake's cock was trapped between their bodies, throbbing with a need so intense it was painful.
"I want you," Matt panted, his voice a raw, broken thing. "Jake, I want to feel you inside me. Before it's over. I need to feel it."
The words sent a bolt of pure lust through Jake. "Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Matt gasped, rolling onto his side, presenting himself in the cramped space. "Do it. Fuck me."

There was no finesse, no gentle preparation. Spitting into his palm was the only lubrication Jake could manage. He worked the saliva onto his straining cock, then pressed the head against Matt's tight, untried entrance. Matt cried out, a sharp, pained sound that quickly melted into a guttural moan as Jake pushed past the initial resistance, sinking into the impossible heat and tightness.
"Oh god, oh fuck," Matt choked out, his body arching back against Jake. "Yes. More."
Jake began to move, his hips finding a rhythm in the tight confines. Each thrust was a defiance, a violent, passionate declaration of life. He drove into Matt again and again, his hands gripping Matt's hips, pulling him back to meet each punishing stroke. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, their ragged gasps and desperate moans, filled the tiny tomb, drowning out the silence of impending death.
"Harder!" Matt demanded, his voice strained with pleasure and pain. "Don't hold back! Make me feel it!"
Jake obliged, losing all control. He became a creature of pure instinct, his world narrowing to the slick heat clenching around his cock, the sounds of Matt's ecstasy, the overwhelming need to possess, to feel, to live. He reached around, fumbling for Matt's cock, finding it rock-hard and leaking. He wrapped his hand around it, stroking him in time with his brutal thrusts.
"I'm gonna cum," Matt sobbed, his body trembling uncontrollably. "Oh god, Jake, don't stop!"
Jake felt Matt's ass clamp down around him like a vise as Matt exploded, his cock pulsing in Jake's hand, his release coating the dirt beneath them. The sensation was too much. With a final, guttural roar, Jake buried himself to the hilt and emptied himself deep inside Matt, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm.
They collapsed together, a tangled, panting heap of limbs and sweat and semen. The silence rushed back in, but it was different now. It wasn't the silence of the grave; it was the peaceful, sated quiet after a storm. Jake's cock was still inside Matt, softening in the afterglow. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of Matt's neck, tasting salt and sweat.
"Wow," Matt breathed, the word a puff of air.
"Yeah," Jake agreed, a slow smile spreading across his face in the dark. "Wow."
They lay there, their bodies still joined, the reality of what they'd done slowly sinking in. It was more than sex. It was a communion, a shared rebellion against the end. And in that moment, Jake realized he didn't want it to be the end. He wanted more. He wanted to see the sun again. He wanted to do this again, in a bed, with light and air and time.
"Maybe..." Matt started, his voice hopeful.
But he never finished. A sound from above. A muffled voice. Then, a sudden, blinding torrent of light as the weight above them was violently pulled away.
"Holy shit! Look at this!" a loud voice boomed from above them.
Jake blinked, his eyes screaming in protest as his world went from absolute black to dazzling, chaotic light. They weren't in a narrow earthen grave. They were on a living room floor, buried under a mountain of blankets, pillows, and couch cushions. The party was still raging. A half-dozen grinning faces stared down at them from the edge of the cushion mountain.
"Dude, you guys have been buried under there for like, three hours!" someone laughed, holding up an empty bottle. "We thought you passed out and died!"
The memories flooded back. The party. The potent, homemade edibles. The stupid game of 'build a fort' that had escalated. The cabin, the sinkhole, the certain death—it had all been a shared, paranoid hallucination.
Jake looked at Matt. Naked. Covered in dirt and sweat and each other's cum. His eyes were wide, a mirror of Jake's own shock, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. A real, this-is-really-happening grin. The absurdity, the sheer, unadulterated insanity of it all, hit Jake like a physical blow, and he started to laugh. A deep, belly-shaking laugh that came from the very core of his being.
Matt joined in, their laughter echoing in the room, drawing more stares from the partygoers. Without a second thought, without a care for who was watching, Jake leaned in and captured Matt's lips in a kiss. It wasn't the desperate, frantic kiss of the dying. It was a kiss of the living. A kiss of pure, unadulterated, joyous life. A promise of a tomorrow they had both been so certain was lost forever.
As they broke apart, foreheads resting together, still naked and tangled on the floor, Jake whispered, "So... you still have that regret?"
Matt's grin was wicked. "Not a single one. But I think I might be developing a new one."
"What's that?"
"The regret of not getting you into a proper bed. Immediately."
Jake's grin was immediate, a flash of white in the dim party light. "Challenge accepted."
He didn't bother trying to find their clothes. It would have been a fool's errand anyway, lost in the sea of cushions and discarded party debris. Instead, he simply stood up, pulling Matt to his feet with him. They stood there, naked, dirty, and utterly unashamed, a bubble of intense focus in the middle of the chaotic party. The hoots and applause from their audience just washed over them, irrelevant background noise.
"Which way to a bedroom?" Jake asked, his voice low and meant only for Matt.
Matt pointed down a short hallway. "Last door on the left. But I'm pretty sure Sarah and Mike are in there."
"They won't be for long," Jake said, his eyes gleaming with a predatory confidence he'd never felt before. He took Matt's hand, and together, they strode through the party, two naked men on a mission. They were a spectacle, yes, but they were a powerful one. People parted for them, their drunken laughter and catcalls fading into a respectful, if bemused, silence.
Jake didn't bother with knocking. He twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of a phone screen. On the bed, two forms scrambled, a feminine yelp mixing with a masculine curse.
"What the hell?!" a male voice sputtered as the light flicked on.
Sarah, a pretty redhead, was clutching a blanket to her chest, her eyes wide with shock. Mike, a burly football player, was sitting up, his face a mask of confusion and anger that quickly morphed into disbelief as he took in the two naked, mud-caked men standing in his doorway.
"Get out!" Mike started to bellow, but Jake held up a hand.
"We're not staying," Jake said, his voice calm and even. "We just need your bed for a bit. You can have the couch fort. It's surprisingly comfortable."
He didn't wait for an answer. He simply pulled Matt into the room and kicked the door shut behind them, turning the lock with a decisive click. Mike's outraged shouts were muffled by the wood.
"Are you insane?" Matt whispered, a thrill running through him.
"Completely," Jake replied, turning to face him. "But I'm also about to make you forget we were ever buried alive."
He backed Matt up until his legs hit the edge of the bed, then pushed him down onto the mattress. Matt fell back with a soft bounce, his eyes fixed on Jake as he crawled over him, straddling his hips. The bed was soft, the sheets clean, a luxury so profound after the imagined hard-packed earth that it felt like heaven.
"This is better," Matt breathed, his hands roaming up Jake's thighs, over his hips, across his stomach.
"So much better," Jake agreed, leaning down to capture his lips.
This kiss was different from the others. It wasn't desperate or frantic. It was slow, deep, and exploratory. A kiss of discovery. Jake's tongue swept into Matt's mouth, tasting him, learning the shape of him, memorizing the texture. Matt's hands were everywhere, tracing the lines of Jake's back, the dip of his spine, the flex of his muscles as he moved.
Jake broke the kiss, trailing his mouth down Matt's jaw, to his neck, where he nipped and sucked, leaving a dark mark of possession on his skin. Matt moaned, his head falling back, his body arching up into Jake's. He could feel Jake's cock, hard and insistent, pressing against his own through the thin fabric of the jeans Mike had hastily abandoned.
Jake's mouth continued its downward journey, across Matt's chest, pausing to lave at his nipples until they were hard, pebbled points. He kissed his way down Matt's stomach, his tongue dipping into his navel, making him squirm. He could feel Matt's cock straining against the denim, could see the wet spot where pre-cum had soaked through the fabric.
"Please," Matt begged, his voice husky with need. "Jake... please."
Jake looked up at him, his eyes dark with lust. "Please what?"
"Please... suck me."
A slow smile spread across Jake's face. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Matt's jeans and tugged them down, freeing his cock. It sprang up, thick and rigid, the head glistening with moisture. Jake had never done this before, but he'd had it done enough times to know what felt good. He wrapped his hand around the base, feeling the weight and heat of him, then leaned down and took the head into his mouth.
Matt cried out, his hips bucking off the bed. The sensation was overwhelming—the wet, velvety heat of Jake's mouth, the tentative flick of his tongue against his slit. Jake took him deeper, his mouth stretching around his girth, his hand working the base in time with the movements of his head. He found a rhythm, bobbing his head, taking him as deep as he could, loving the sounds Matt was making—the choked-off gasps, the guttural moans, the whispered curses.
"Fuck, Jake... that's... oh god, don't stop," Matt panted, his hands tangling in Jake's hair, guiding him, urging him on.
Jake could feel Matt's balls tightening, could feel the tension coiling in his body. He knew he was close. He doubled his efforts, sucking harder, faster, his other hand coming up to roll Matt's balls in his palm.
With a loud, strangled cry, Matt came, his hips jerking as he flooded Jake's mouth. Jake swallowed, the salty, bitter taste of him a shock, but not an unpleasant one. He milked him dry, then released him, looking up at Matt's face, which was a mask of pure, unadulterated bliss.
"Good?" Jake asked, a smug grin on his face.
Matt could only nod, his chest heaving.
"Good," Jake said, crawling back up his body. "Because now it's my turn."
He rolled them over, so Matt was on top. "Your turn to do the work."
Matt didn't need to be told twice. He mimicked Jake's actions, his mouth and hands exploring Jake's body with a renewed hunger. He kissed his way down Jake's chest and stomach, his hesitation gone, replaced by a raw, eager curiosity. When he took Jake's cock into his mouth, it was awkward at first, his teeth scraping, but Jake didn't mind. He was too lost in the sensation, in the sight of Matt's blond head bobbing between his legs.
Matt was a quick study. He soon found a rhythm that had Jake seeing stars, his hand stroking what his mouth couldn't take. The pressure built, a delicious, tightening spiral in Jake's groin. He could feel his orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of pleasure gathering strength.
"Matt... I'm gonna..." Jake warned, his hands fisting in the sheets.
Matt just moaned around his cock and sucked harder, and that was all it took. Jake came with a hoarse shout, his body arching off the bed as he poured himself down Matt's throat.
Matt came up coughing a little, a string of cum and saliva connecting his lip to Jake's cock. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry. Not a pro yet."
Jake laughed, pulling him down for a kiss. "You're a natural."
They lay there for a moment, kissing softly, their bodies pressed together, the frantic urgency replaced by a lazy, satisfied intimacy. But Jake wasn't done with him yet. Not by a long shot.
He rolled Matt onto his stomach, then reached over the side of the bed and fumbled in the nightstand drawer. His fingers closed around a small bottle of lube. Perfect.
He knelt between Matt's legs, squeezing a generous amount of the slick gel onto his fingers. He teased Matt's hole, circling it with his fingertip before slowly pushing inside. Matt moaned, pushing back against him, his body opening up eagerly. Jake worked one finger, then two, stretching him, preparing him, scissoring them inside him until Matt was writhing on the bed, a desperate, needy mess.
"Please, Jake... now," Matt begged. "Fuck me. For real this time."
Jake coated his own cock with the lube, then positioned himself at Matt's entrance. He pushed in slowly, watching as his thick length disappeared into Matt's body. The sight was incredible. He bottomed out, his hips flush against Matt's ass, the tight, clenching heat of him driving Jake wild.
"You okay?" Jake asked, his voice strained.
"More than okay," Matt groaned. "Move. Please, move."
Jake started to thrust, his movements slow and deliberate at first, savoring the sensation. He watched himself slide in and out of Matt's body, the slick glisten of lube on his cock. He leaned forward, covering Matt's body with his own, his chest pressed against Matt's back.
"Faster," Matt demanded. "Harder. Like before."
Jake obliged, his movements becoming more forceful, more demanding. He drove into Matt again and again, the sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. He reached around and wrapped his hand around Matt's cock, which was hard again, and started stroking him in time with his thrusts.
The second time was even better than the first. The frantic, life-or-death urgency was gone, replaced by a raw, primal need to possess, to connect, to pleasure. They moved together, a single, sweaty, panting entity, lost in a world of sensation.
"I'm close," Matt panted. "So close."
"Me too," Jake grunted, his hips pistoning into Matt.
With a loud, guttural cry, Matt came for the second time, his release spilling over Jake's hand and onto the sheets below. The clenching of his ass around Jake's cock was all it took to push Jake over the edge. He buried himself deep inside Matt one last time and came, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.
He collapsed on top of Matt, his weight pressing him into the mattress. They were both panting, their bodies slick with sweat and cum. Jake's cock was still inside Matt, softening in the aftermath.
After a long moment, Jake rolled off, pulling Matt into his arms. They lay face to face, their foreheads resting together, their breaths mingling in the quiet room.
"So," Matt whispered, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "I guess I'm not straight after all."
Jake chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from Matt's forehead. "I guess neither of us are."
"What do we do now?" Matt asked, his voice serious.
"We sleep," Jake said, pulling the blanket over their tangled bodies. "And in the morning, we figure it out. Together."
Matt's smile was genuine, his eyes soft in the dim light. "Together."
He leaned in and kissed Jake, a soft, gentle kiss that was full of promise. It was the beginning of something new, something neither of them had expected, but both of them knew, with absolute certainty, they wanted.