I wince at the faded sign.

Brightwater Gardens.

I haven’t been here since I was a teenager and I was embarrassed to be seen here then. Now, at twenty-nine, I’m back. Standing in line, I feel my pride peel away like the chipped purple and yellow paint on the sun-bleached letters overhead.

A few months back, we decided to call it quits. Me and Charlotte, the woman I was supposed to marry. No hard feelings. Since then, my life’s been a bit of a mess, and now, I’m just trying to put myself out there again.

Except this time, it’s different.

I’m meeting a guy five years younger than me. We’ve met a couple of times now, and each time has ended with me going over to his house and burying my cock deep in his ass.

But I’m not into guys. Really. I’ve had the odd horny thought here and there, but acting on it? That’s not me. This is just… fun. Nothing more.

I met him on a dating app. My filters were set to girls only, of course, but one night, curiosity got the better of me, and I switched it to include guys. Purely for science, obviously.

The results that popped up were a mix of gym bros, plain-looking guys, and rugged bearded types. Some were conventionally attractive, but none of them sparked anything. If anything, scrolling through just confirmed what I already suspected, guys weren’t my thing. I knew that.

Then, right as I was about to switch the filter back, his profile popped up.

Riley.

I didn’t think guys could be ‘pretty’. But there he was, sharp cheekbones, long lashes, pierced ears, short bleach-blonde hair with a dark undercut.

I remember staring at his pictures way longer than I should have. The adrenaline when I swiped right. The dizzying rush when he matched back.

That was two weeks and hundreds of slutty messages ago.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other as the line slowly creeps forward, the sun baking down on the back of my neck.

Strings of sagging fairy lights droop from warped wooden poles beside me, marking the cracked gravel path toward the entrance arches. 

As if being stuck at this overpriced circus of a theme park isn’t bad enough, I have to queue for the privilege. 

Still, I like Riley. Most of what we have revolves around sex, but he’s fun. After everything we’d done together, suffering through a few rollercoasters felt like a fair trade. 

But this is just two friends hanging out. Probably fucking. It’s definitely not a date.

Not a date. Not a date. Not a date.

The woman behind the glass gives me a tired smile as I slide my card across the counter. The ticket printer whirs to life, then spits out a stub, which she pushes through with a bright, “Enjoy your day!”

I can’t think of a worse place to spend it.

Tucking the ticket into my pocket, I push through the turnstile and step into the cheap, plastic nightmare that is Brightwater Gardens.

The sickly mix of popcorn, cotton candy, and sunscreen slams into me like a wet slap. I force a smile, trying to mask the wave of disgust curling in my gut.

Yeah, this is exactly what I get for hooking up with a twink.

Laughter and shouting ricochet off the pastel stalls clustered around the courtyard. Rides whirl and spin, a dizzying blur of flickering bulbs and scuffed metal.

My eyes scan the crowd. It’s just past opening time, so the place isn’t busy yet, but eager visitors scatter toward their favourite attractions, buzzing with excitement.

Then, I spot Riley. 

He’s standing at the front of a ring toss game. His bleach-blonde hair, catching the bright sun, is cut short on the sides with a dark undercut that makes the pale top glow like a halo. I know he’s definitely no angel though, not with the things I’ve seen him do.

He has this almost elfin beauty; those cheekbones, the long lashes and the mischievous glint in his dark eyes undercut any innocence.

He’s wearing a tight white tank top that clings to every toned inch of his slim torso, muscles defined just enough to tease what’s underneath. His arms are slender, but I like that. 

His jean shorts sit low on his hips, revealing the faintest glimpse of a waistband peeking out. I’m aching to get him out of them already, but I’ll have to wait… for now.

I can’t help but laugh as I get closer. Seriously, he throws like a little twink. That plump, perfectly shaped ass shifts with every step, literally begging me to do bad things to it.

“Hey.”

He turns, eyes lighting up the second they land on me.

“Cammy!” he squeals, arms wrapping around my neck before he presses a quick kiss to my cheek.

I freeze up, every nerve screaming as families and tourists drift past. Their innocent glances feel like scorching spotlights, searing into me, reminding me of the walls I’ve built.

I know it shouldn’t be a big deal, but being seen like this, with him, it terrifies me in ways I can’t shake.

He pulls back just enough to point dramatically at the wall behind the counter, oblivious to the tiny storm swirling inside me.

“I want that duck,” he says, grinning up at me.

It’s so cliche, the guy winning a prize at the fair for the girl. Only my girl’s a pretty boy in cutoffs. Fuck it. If he wants the duck, he’s getting the duck.

I dig into my pocket and slide a few coins across the counter. The guy behind it barely looks up as he sweeps them away and drops three plastic rings in front of me.

“All three for the duck,” he says, unenthused.

I pick up the first ring, testing the weight. Before I can line up the shot, Riley’s already at my side, pressing in way too close, like he’s trying to climb inside my shirt.

“If you win me that duck,” he purrs, breath hot against my ear, “you can pick the ride I suck your dick on.”

I nearly choke on my spit. He’s looking up at me all sweet and wide-eyed. We’d messaged about fooling around in the park but I’m not sure I fully believed we’d go through with it.

“Well then you’d better not distract me,” I murmur, eyes forward.

I tighten my grip and throw. The first ring arcs through the air and lands with a soft plink, circling the neck of a green glass bottle.

Riley gasps dramatically.

I shake my head, biting back a laugh, and pick up the second ring. Riley’s fingers sneak under my shirt, palm pressed flat to my lower back, just enough to make my chest tighten. Something unfamiliar stirs beneath the surface but I push through it, exhale slow, and launch the next shot.

Clink. Dead on.

Riley clutches my arm. “Cammy,” he whines, breathless now, like this is life or death. “You’re so close. Just one more. I swear I’ll let you pick any ride.”

Obviously not any ride. Some are definitely not conducive to giving or receiving blowjobs, but I have a few in mind. If we did it on the Ferris wheel, I could…

No. Focus, Cameron.

I lock my gaze on the last ring. The world around me fades. I breathe in slow then flick my wrist and let the ring fly.

Clink.

Riley screams like we just won the lottery, flinging his arms around my neck and jumping on me. His legs actually come off the ground.

“Oh my god,” he yells, “you did it!”

People turn. I can feel them watching. Why does it bother me so much?

The guy behind the counter doesn’t flinch. Just grabs the massive duck from its hook and drops it on the counter. 

“Congratulations,” he mutters.

Riley snatches the duck and tucks it proudly under one arm as we walk off.

“What should we name him?” he asks, slipping his fingers through mine.

I’m not thinking about the duck.

“Uh… Quackers?” I offer, barely paying attention.

Riley makes a tutting noise. “That’s so basic.” He swings our hands between us, eyes twinkling. “He’s clearly a Fernando.”

“Fernando?”

“Yeah.” He lifts the duck dramatically. “He’s European.”

Are all twenty four year olds like this?

“So,” he flicks his hair out of his eyes. “Have you picked your ride?”

I have, actually. 

“Yeah, there’s one that’s especially… perfect.”

I watch the way his freckled cheeks flush.

I squeeze his hand and steer him around a corner, past the waking food court and the scents of frying dough and sugar.

His eyes sparkle with mischief when he sees the tunnel of love come into view, an indoor boat ride dripping with all kinds of cheesy romance.

I lean in, close enough that only he can hear. “So, what do you think?” I murmur. “Ready to show me how grateful you are that I won you…” I glance at the giant, ridiculous plush duck crushed under his arm. “…Fernando?”

He lets out a half-laugh, half-whimper. “You’re so romantic, Cam.”

He’s pretending to be offended, but I know he wants nothing more than to choke on my dick.

“I believe you made a promise?” I tease, nudging him. “Or am I going to have to make an example of you in front of the animatronic swans?”

He lets out this sharp little gasp and buries his face against my shoulder, giggling like the brat he is. “I meant what I said.”

I nudge him ahead of me as we pass through the entrance gate and into the empty queue. Not because I’m feeling polite. I just want a full, uninterrupted view of his perky ass.

The sudden shade is a relief after the heat outside. The queue winds through rows of railings and faded heart-shaped signs. Blue and purple lights cast everything in a lurid glow that only served to highlight the dust in the air. The animatronics are worse up close, wide-eyed couples locked in eternal, jerky embraces. Their dead plastic smiles are made creepier by the tinny carousel music.

Riley glances back at me, eyes gleaming. “This getting you in the mood, babe?”

I smirk. “An army of these dead-eyed freaks couldn’t stop me from fucking your mouth.”

“Shh!” he hisses, fighting a grin. “We’re almost at the front!”

We round a corner into a dim loading room, where several small groups wait by metal barriers. A bored-looking ride attendant lazily gestures people on in pairs, barely glancing up from her stool. The boats drift by in slow loops, their chipped swan heads bobbing under the same flickering purple lights.

As we wait our turn, I spot an old boxy monitor mounted behind the attendant. The screen’s split into nine grainy segments, each showing a different part of the ride. 

I nudge Riley and tilt my head toward it. He catches on instantly, eyes flashing with a mix of panic and excitement.

It’s risky. But those cameras are zoomed so far out you can barely tell what’s happening, and that attendant doesn’t look like she’s paid enough to care.

The gate creaks open and she gives a limp wave toward the next swan boat as it creeps along the conveyor.

Riley climbs in, Fernando still wedged under his arm, and I slide in beside him, thigh to thigh. The fibreglass bench is rock hard and deeply uncomfortable, but it kind of makes it hotter.

We reach the end of the conveyor, and the boat drops with a soft splash into the water. It rocks beneath us as we drift forward, swallowed by the first dark, flickering room.

Riley doesn’t waste a second. His hand is already inside my shorts, dragging the zipper down as his knuckles graze my cock as it begins to swell to its full length.

His fingers slip beneath the waistband, tugging it down. My cock springs into his hand, already hardening in his grip. With one hand still wrapped around the base, he lowers his head and closes his lips around the head.

He gives really good head. Tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, teeth grazing just enough to tease and make me twitch. I don’t know if guys just have some secret playbook, but Riley knows exactly how to work me.

I run one hand up from the back of his neck, feeling the contrast beneath my fingers. Every now and then, something sharp snaps me back, a reminder that I’m with a guy, not a girl. The clean fade of his hair grazes my palm feels strange and new.

My fingers keep climbing, weaving through the longer bleach-blonde strands. I tighten my grip, pulling him a little closer without breaking the rhythm. There’s something intoxicating about the mix of familiar and unfamiliar as his lips slide over me in slow, wet strokes.

At some point, my eyes drift shut, swallowed by the haze of pleasure. When I blink them open again, the world has warped. A plastic taiga forest surrounds us, snow covered wooden cabins and uncanny figures blurring into a surreal acid trip.

I watch him bobbing up and down on my cock, desperate and greedy. The way his throat clenches around me steals my breath and shorts out my thoughts.

My fingers dig into the damp strands at the back of his neck, pushing his hair back as he sinks deeper, like he’s trying to swallow me whole.

“Ah, fuck,” I groan, voice rough and thick. “You take it so well.”

He mumbles something muffled around my cock, the wet sounds of his mouth working driving me wild.

“Shhh…” I murmur, fingers threading deeper into his hair, gently tugging as I stroke his scalp.

I look up and spot a bend in the track where the it circles in on itself after it rounds an island. The boat ahead is already rounding the corner, coming straight back toward us on the parallel track.

“Shit...” I moan low, my voice thick with need. “Open wide for me, baby.”

He lets out a soft, needy whimper but parts his lips and loosens his throat as I press his face down harder.

The other boat is almost on us now. One hand grips the back of his head, holding him steady and low so no one can see exactly what he’s doing. I can feel his saliva pooling wet and warm at the base of my dick, coating me.

To anyone watching, it just looks like I’m sitting next to some ridiculous oversized plush duck. Little do they know, I have two stuffed toys in the boat with me.

I bite my lip, heart pounding, unsure if the front of the boat will shield us as they pass by.

They’re close now, a couple.

Fuck.

I grab both sides of Riley’s head and push him all the way down, forcing him to gag and splutter as he takes every inch, swallowing me deep into his tight, wet throat.

And then their boat glides past us and we’re in the clear.

I finally pull back as Riley coughs and gasps for air, his cheeks flushed and lips dripping wet.

I lean in, meeting him halfway, lips crashing together as I taste myself on his tongue. We’ve maybe got a minute before the ride coasts back into the station.

He sinks back down, like he was born to kneel there. I adjust myself, cock still twitching and hard. I tap it against his cheek with a wet slap, then again, harder, watching the smear of spit and cum it leaves on his skin.

“Ohhh fuck,” I groan through my teeth.

I rub the head across his pretty face, painting his cheeks, dragging it across his lips, under his nose, strands of it glistening on his skin like gloss. He sticks his tongue out with a quiet moan, licking along my shaft.

“Messy little slut,” I murmur, just as we round the island.

My stomach drops. I forgot there’s a second boat that passes here.

“Down,” I hiss, pushing him lower.

He doesn’t miss a beat, opening his mouth wide and engulfing my balls. His tongue flicks over them while his lips suck and knead with desperate enthusiasm.

I brace a hand on the edge of the boat, trying to stay composed, but my thighs tense and my jaw tightens. The sight of my cock glistening against his cum drenched face is too much for me to handle right now.

We glide past the other gondola. Two guys. One of them looks up, catching my eye for a split second. I flash the most casual smile I can manage while Riley is still tonguing my balls like a starving slut.

Once the island hides us again, Riley finally pulls off and collapses beside me, flushed and breathless, a trembling grin on his face. He moves to wipe the mess from his cheek with the back of his hand.

“Nuh uh.” I grab his wrist as a wicked smile creeps across my face. “Not ‘til we get outside.”

“Cam!” he shrieks, a mix of protest and excitement.

I tilt his chin up, thumb brushing his damp skin. His big, shining eyes lock onto mine.

“Yes?”

His sticky cheeks flush a deep, burning red. I know he loves this, the rush of being used and the thrill of being caught.

He nods.

“Yeah?” I grin. “You’re going to keep it right there for me.”

He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, shifting in his seat, thighs squeezing together. So fucking obedient. 

The boat pulls into the station and I step out, turning to offer my hand to Riley. He takes it, blushing so hard he looks fevered. His face is sticky and glowing in the low light, still marked with every place I used him.

It’s dark, so no one should see. But that’s not the point.

He clings to my hand as we make our way through the tunnel into the ride’s gift shop. His head stays down, body close to mine like he’s trying to disappear. The guy behind the counter barely glances up from his phone.

A few more steps and we’re back outside. I glance down at him and, fuck. I really did make a mess of him. He looks up at me, eyes wide, waiting for permission.

“You’re such a fucking mess, babe,” I say with a soft, mocking laugh, dragging my thumb slowly along his jaw but not wiping it. “What would people think?”

“And who’s fault is that, Cammy?” He squirms, shifting closer to me instinctively.

I’d argue still his. I smirk as I guide him across the sunlit plaza toward the toilet block on the corner. The idea of anyone catching sight of him like this sends my heart racing, but the plaza is still mercifully quiet.

We slip inside and find it blissfully empty. I steer him past the sinks and into the nearest cubicle with me, locking the door behind us.

I shrug off my bag and unzip the front pocket, pulling out a small pack of wipes, handing them to him. He gratefully takes them and begins dabbing at his face. 

I watch for a moment, then chuckle under my breath. “You missed a spot,” I murmur, brushing my thumb just beneath his jaw. “Here, let me.”

I take the wipe from his hand and tilt his chin up, wiping the last streak of cum from the corner of his mouth. 

Our eyes meet for a second, and suddenly a flutter rises in my chest, like a swarm of restless butterflies. No, stop. We’re just friends that fuck. It’s not like that. Nerves? Adrenaline from the rife maybe?

I swallow, averting my eyes before it gets awkward. “Okay, I think I got it all.” I reach into my bag and pull out a small tube. “Oh, also… you might want to reapply some suncream. It’s fucking hot out there.”

Yeah it is.

Riley glances at the tube, then giggles, holding out his hands. “Aww, look at you being all… cute and caring,” he teases, smearing the cream over his forehead and cheeks.

He nods. “Shall we head out?”

I shake my head. “Not yet. You need to pick the next ride.”

He narrows his eyes. “For…what?”

This is only our third meet, but somehow he already knows me too well. I reach up, my fingers brushing the soft skin beneath his jaw, teasing the short hair behind his ear.

“You’ll find out once you pick,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes with a sly grin. “Fine. Sunstrike.”

I chuckle. “Ooh, bad pick, dude.”

I keep slipping, calling him ‘dude’ like I haven’t just smeared my cum all over his face. Before Riley, guys were just friends. Bros. I’d never rubbed my cum on one of my bros’ faces before.

Sunstrike isn’t just any ride. It’s the biggest and fastest coaster in the park. 

Which sucks for him. I was going to save this for later, but I think this will be a lot more fun.

I reach into my bag and pull out a zipped fabric case, pressing it into his hands with a smirk. He blinks at it, confused.

“Meet me outside when you’re ready, babe.” The word comes out a little awkward, like I’m still testing it out. I kiss him on the cheek and step out of the cubicle, taking my time at the sink. I wash my hands, fix my hair, give myself a once-over in the mirror.

From behind the door comes his muffled protest. “You’re not serious…”

I’m dead serious.