I swallow hard and feel myself blush at his words, he literally looks like some kind of god and he’s calling me sexy?
“Can you touch yourself for me, baby?” he asks.
I run my hand down my body and over my boxers, along my length before I grip it. His breath hitches and he immediately moves to do the same. As he grips his own dick with his hand I whimper, shocked at how needy I sound, but it only seems to spur him on.
We take our time, watching each other as we tentatively touch ourselves, stroking through our boxers. A small wet patch appears on the gray of his and knowing it’s pre-cum has me licking my lips like an automatic reaction.
“You wanna see me?” he asks, and all I can do is nod.
He lifts his hips and uses both hands to lower his boxers to his thighs, his dick springing free. I’m suddenly wishing I was a lot closer so I could make out all the details, instead of just his impressive length.
“Fuck, Stephen,” I whimper.
“I’m gonna get some lube and throw it over to you, but you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want,” he says.
Sliding open his top drawer, he takes out a small bottle and squeezes some along his length, inhaling as it touches. “Cold,” he chuckles, “you might want to warm it up in your hands first.”
He throws the bottle, and it lands perfectly on my bed in front of me, pro-athlete skills aren’t only for the football field apparently.
The sound coming from his side of the room is making me crazy, the slickness of the lube as he grips his dick and runs his hand along his length a few times. I lower my boxers, and his eyes move straight to my dick.
“You look so fucking good, Donovan,” he whispers.
I squirt some of the lube in my hands and warm it a bit like he said, before moving to my dick and covering it with the smooth liquid. Stephen grips a little tighter and starts to move his hand faster as he watches me. I mirror his movements,loving that I get to see him like this. He’s hotter than any of the very limited porn I’ve ever watched.
“You look better than anything I’ve ever seen before,” I blurt out.
“So do you.” The expression on his face leaves no doubt in my mind that he’s being truthful; I’ve never felt wanted before, but the look on his face is one of pure need.
We both quicken our pace, our eyes darting between making eye contact and watching each other’s dicks. Our breaths become pants as we each get closer, I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hold on.
“You gonna come for me, baby?” he moans. “You gonna let me watch you come all over yourself?”
“Stephen!” I cry softly, not wanting our neighbors to hear us.
“That’s it, let me hear you say my name when you come.”
His ab muscles ripple and tense, the sight sending me over the edge as I cry his name again and ropes of cum shoot up along my stomach. He quickly follows with my name on his lips, and I watch as he comes all over himself.
“Holy fucking shit!” I half laugh, half pant. “That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Fuck, me too baby.” He grins, that panty-melting smile that makes me weak.
We both laugh, falling back on our beds and enjoying the moment.
“I take it you’re okay with that happening again?” he asks, turning his head to look at me.
“Oh, it’s definitely happening again,” I chuckle.
Stephen
I thought kissing Donovan was my new favorite thing, but after watching him jerk off last night, it’s a fight for the number one spot. The noises he made are still replaying in my mind; he has no idea how fucking sexy he is, which is cute, and just makes him a million times hotter.
He thinks his lack of experience is a bad thing, that it makes him less attractive or desirable, but it turns me on knowing I’m his first. No one else has heard those sounds, seen the sweet look of surprise he gets when I grind my cock against him, the way his breath caught when he saw my cock for the first time.
Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about him, which is not a good look when I’m sitting in my business class trying to concentrate on what the teacher is saying. Luckily there’s no practice today, so I don’t have to wait too long before I can see him again.
When class ends, I’m out of my seat faster than you can say ‘pro-football player’. I ignore calls of my name and people trying to get my attention, instead heading straight to the other building on campus where Donovan’s class has just finished.
