A/N: I was drawn to this prompt on the GKM because I'm a virgin at eighteen, (overshare, sorry) almost nineteen, and this is way for me to write a story about how we are not all innocent, naive people and I can use characters I love to do it and the prompt also seemed a lot of fun. I usually do PWP with stories involving sex but with this I can and want to get deeper into it because personally, I'm sick of being seen as an innocent virgin when a lot of the time it's the complete opposite *gets down off my soapbox*

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Warnings: Exhibitionism.


If You Seek Amy Tonight


Blaine thinks he might be a slut. He doesn't know the exact term for what he is – a complete virgin (kissing aside) with somewhat of an obsession with sex – but slut seems to fit because he's certain that if any boys were interested in dating him, or simply fucking him into the mattress, he'd take them up straight away.

The first time someone kissed Blaine, just turned age seventeen in the total darkness of the back of his car, he'd felt a surge of heat roll up his spine and the moment he'd curled his fist into the front of the boy's t-shirt, they'd backed away and looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow.

Less than thirty seconds later, Blaine was alone in the car and resisting the urge to punch a window out. He was a virgin, yes, sexually inexperienced, yes, but that didn't mean he knew nothing about sex.

It's quite the opposite in fact.

That prickle of pleasure and rush of moremoremore he'd felt in the back of the car had set Blaine's mind whirring and while he wasn't a prude about sex in the first place, he hadn't known everything at the time. He still blames his schools lack of gay sex education for that but he knows things now, all that he thinks he wants to know, and sex is constantly on his mind, always making his cock stir and his heart pound at the sight of a firm ass in tight jeans.

Before now, he's considered that he shouldn't be this obsessed because maybe it is just sex and he's not missing out on a lot but one evening he'd ventured onto the internet and gone in search of people like him.

He found them within seconds – boys and girls, men and women, openly talking about their sex lives and kinks on their blogs, posting videos and pictures, some virgins, some not and Blaine had felt at home on these websites – he felt normal for the first time in a long time and by the time he'd gone to bed (after jerking off and muffling his cries in his pillows), he had his own blog setup and ready to go, waiting empty for him to wake up the next day and write out a good morning to his new world.


To say Blaine was welcomed with open arms (and legs) to the blogging world would be understatement.

He's barely had the blog three weeks before he has sixteen followers, a mixture of all ages, races and genders, liking every post he writes about the ups and downs of being a virgin who craves sex but has no dating history or hope, and sending him questions, some genuinely inquisitive (What's it like being gay in Ohio?) andsome filthy and suggestive (Can I spread your virgin ass and watch it beg for my cock?) that make his toes curl and his cock harden so fast it makes him dizzy.

It's a month later, on a Thursday evening after a day where Blaine is just sick of being treated a like a child and so innocent – a boy in the coffee shop he's a regular at had called him a naïve schoolboy with no hope of getting laid with a dress style, a baby face and a tiny build that screams virgin – that he's ranting on his blog, hitting the keys furiously as he types and a minute after he posts, a message comes into his inbox and his first thought is yes, God, yes, when he reads it – Why don't you give us a picture of your body? It's untouched so it must be gorgeous.

Blaine's got his clothes off in the next five seconds and he squeezes around the base of his cock where it's hard and jutting out from his body. He's looked at pictures of other people on his blog, follows four or five gay boys, one of them a virgin too, who frequently take snapshots or videos of themselves in the throes of orgasm, still black and white pictures of their come streaking up their chests, sometimes hitting their chin or cheeks and it hasn't hit Blaine until now that yes he wants to do that too.

He wants to feel desirable for once, told that his cock looks made for someone's mouth or that he's so pretty, so hot, because it never happens in real life, is never said to his face, and he doesn't think it's so wrong to want to feel wanted, even by strangers over the internet who will probably jerk off to pictures of him, spread and wanting on his tangled sheets.

He's described himself before on his blog, looked down at his own body and tried to see it from someone else's point of view so the people who kept asking could have an idea what he looks like from the neck down and it's made him thrill when they've said how hot he sounds and how much they'd love to hold him against a wall and feel him squirm but it's here and now, his door locked and his camera in his hand that he realizes how much he's going to love this and how much he wants to be seen, debauched and hard, by whoever is willing to look.

Lifting the camera above him and throwing his head back out of view, Blaine angles it just right so he can get his whole body in frame, his free arm bent up behind his head to stretch out his torso and define the small bit of muscle he does have across his stomach and then he presses the button, shutting his eyes and biting his lip to hold in a groan at how good just taking the picture feels, knowing where it's going to be and how many will see it and maybe want him.

Dropping his arm, he slumps into his desk chair, cock still flushed and red, and slips the memory card into his laptop, tilting his head and thinking it'll do when he clicks to the picture. The qualities good (he's glad his Dad spoiled him with a good camera two years ago) and the lighting a little off, but he can see himself clear enough so he clicks back through to his blog and hits upload, not captioning the picture or tagging it for now so he can see how this goes down first.

When his blog reloads, the picture his first post, he shivers a little and smiles, grabbing a hold of his cock and starting to stroke, swiping his thumb through the precome that's been leaking steadily over the past few minutes and he catches sight of himself in the mirror across his room, face flushed and eyes black and thinks to himself, a little pride swelling inside of him, You're an exhibitionist, Blaine Anderson. Treasure it.