“Fuck you,” he growls, sounding out of breath, a look of determination on his face.
We’re in this odd stare off, neither one of us wanting to look away.
I have no idea what the goal of this is. To cum first? To cum last? To out-jerk the other?
Nope. It’s two stubborn men who can’t help but try to piss off the other person.
Not sure about him, but I’m not pissed off that he’s playing into my game. Not at all.
This is single-handedly my wet dream come to life.
“Fuck,” I hear him curse, his eyes going glassy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he shouts, eyes squeezing shut.
I’m glad he looked away first, it gives me the chance to take in this whole moment, enjoy every second, and commit it to memory.
I watch his muscles flex in his arm as he works his hand over his shaft. My eyes drift lower. His feet are planted on the bed as he starts to thrust up into his hand.
Now all I can think about is it being my ass he’s fucking into. The way he would grab my hips with a deliciously painful grip, as he fucks into me like a wild animal.
His large body pressed over mine, his masculine grunts in my ear as he takes his pleasure, using my tight hole until he’s filling me with cum.
Oh god, I’m going to cum. I can’t hold back. There’s no fucking way.
And as if the gods are on my side, Easton is the first to fall over the edge.
I watch in fascination as he tosses his head back, lips parting in pleasure as his whole body tightens up. And then he’s letting out this long, guttural groan that hits me right in the balls. I watch as thick white ropes of cum shoot out and land on his chest. So powerful that some even hit his chin.
That's it. I can’t take it anymore.
My own orgasm barrels into me. My eyes roll back as I give in to the pleasure. My body tightens, my balls drawing up, and then I’m cumming too.
“Oh fuck.” I groan as my cock jerks in my fist, stream after stream of cum coating my chest.
When every last drop is drained, I slump back onto the bed, chest heaving, head fuzzy, body tingling. I feel like jelly.
I forget where I am and who's in the room with me, until I hear the bedroom door slam shut.
My eyes fly open, and I find myself alone in the room.
“Fuck.” I groan, running a hand through my sweaty hair.
What the hell was that?
Why did we do that? As if things weren't already tense between us.
How the hell do we keep finding ourselves in this situation? First the party, then the shower, now this?
He has a girlfriend. I don’t think she would be very happy to know her boyfriend is jerking off with his roommate.
A wave of shame slithers over me. What am I doing? I shouldn’t be acting like this. This isn’t me.
Yet, something about that asshole brings out sides of me I didn’t know I had.
With a heavy sigh, I grab the tissues from my bedside table and wipe myself clean, tossing the dirty tissues in the bin next to my bed.
Pulling my sleep pants back up, I turn my lamp off and roll over to face the window.
I watch the moon, trying to get myself to go to sleep, but I’m too wired. My mind drifts to Easton. Where did he go?
