I don’tlike it.My dick did that without checking with me first, which is rude as hell.
I need to stop thinking about why it reacted right now. I need to focus on Idaho and block out the fact that four guys are crowded around the couch and one of them just had a handful of my nuts, and my body apparently has opinions on the matter.
No, fuck that. Idon’thave opinions. I’m just lying here.
Come on, Idaho. Help a brother out.
“Okay,” Finn mutters, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. “But what if we... you know. Call the bluff?”
Grant hesitates. “Dude.”
“What? He knew the rules. If he moves, he loses.”
Grant tracks the line from my dick to my face, then back again.
“Yeah, man, he knew the rules,” Walker says, hooking his finger into the waistband of my shorts and tugging. They slide off easily, and now I’m just lying on the couch with my junk out in front of the four guys I’ve lived with for two years.
Idaho.
From this angle, it could be New Hampshire.
“Fuck, dude,” Walker says, looking from my dick to my face. “You’re deadass serious about this.”
He wraps his hand around me.
I’m getting harder by the second, and I’m definitelynotthinking about that. I’m thinking about Idaho.
ButI’mthinking about it. About the fact that Walker’s hand is warm, that he’s handling me without a shred of shame, and that my cock is kinda pulsing.
Okay.
No big deal.
Really.
Genuinely.
Just another Tuesday.
Walker pinches the cockhead between two fingers, and my length jumps again.
Fuck, this shitisa big deal.
And gettingbigger.
Walker milks the shaft once. Base to tip.
The room absolutely goes off.
“Bro, what the—”
“Dude!”
“Gross, man.”
None of them move, though.
Four different voices are yelling some version of “what the hell,”but not a single one of them takes a step back. And Walker doesn’t stop. In fact, he works the length again with way more confidence. His eyes flick to my face, then back down to my meat—now fully hard and seeping some pre onto his fingers.
