“It's fine, really…”
“What about this is fine, exactly?!” I ask, wondering how he can suggest anything about this situation is any less than completely fucked. He lets out a chuckle and scrubs his face with his hands.
“Well…” His face is suddenly tinged pink, and his eyes move down to his lap–
No, not his lap, his crotch… his obviously. bulging. crotch.
“Jules! What the fuck?!”
“What the fuckme?! What the fuckyou!”
“Oh my godddd. Why have you got… No, never mind.” My head is spinning, reaching for answers I’m not sure I want.
“It’s completely natural, it’s just a hormonal response–”
“Jules, please stop,” I groan. But he doesn’t,obviously.That would be too easy.
“...As I was saying, it’s just a hormonal response to the proximity, paired with the usual case of morning erections. It was kind of bound to happen, if you really think about it,” he reels off the information like he’s giving a lesson in male anatomy. It only serves to increase my discomfort.
“I’d rather not think about it.” I turn away from him and grip my arousal in my hand. No, notarousal, that would suggest some sort of attraction,right? Don’t get me wrong, Jules isn’t bad looking, not by a long shot. He’s got a thick mop of soft, curly brown hair and a face that resembles a Greek god; all smooth lines and perfect symmetry.
“I’m going to shower,” I huff out, grabbing clothes from the drawer and stuffing them under my arm, before shuffling awkwardly from the bedroom, my back to Jules the entire time.
Steam quickly fills the bathroom, the fog creating a haze as thick as the one clouding my judgment right now.What the fuck was that?I get the biology side of things, of course. What I don’t understand, however, is why once my mind caughtup with the fact it was Jules–my best friend–my body didn’t instantly recognise how inappropriately it was behaving.Bad dick.
I thought the shower and the wall currently separating us would deflate the situation down below; apparently, I was wrong. Each drop of water that lands on my swollen manhood is like a zap of electricity straight to my balls– I’m so hard it’s painful. I stare down at a tiny droplet gathering momentum as it rolls down my length, collecting beads of moisture on its journey until it reaches the tip. It glides along the smooth surface before dangling from the end, the heightened sensitivity making the sensation almost unbearable as my legs tremble beneath me.
Holy shit.
If I ignore it, surely it will just go away–right?It’s not like I can have a hard-on forever. So, I get to washing my hair, the heavy weight between my legs throbbing and bobbing with every move I make. The muscles in my legs are screaming through the tension pulling them tight, and my stomach aches all the way through to my spine as it twists and squeezes trying to hold on to the restraint I have to show. If I don’t, what does that make me?A very confused, and shitty friend– that’s what.
But the ache is almost unbearable, and the feeling of being right on the edge is too strong to ignore. I can’t let this go on any longer; the strain on my body is too great. Pushing all thoughts aside, I grip my length in my fist, screw my eyes shut, and pull.I know it won’t take long for me to find my release, my balls are already tight and fit to burst. The cool tile against my foreheadis the only thing keeping me from combusting as I repeat the process again and again, each pass drawing a quiet moan from my lips.
I stroke up, twisting when I reach the head before pulling back again. Just as my orgasm crests, a loud thumping noise comes from the other side of the wall, the one separating our bedroom from the bathroom. I know it’s him, and it only encourages me to pull harder, faster. I tell myself I just need to be quick and get it over with, but the reality is– it feelsso fucking good.
That’s when my cock decides to erupt, emptying itself all over the tiles in front of me. What feels like an endless stream of come squirts out in pulsating waves, as my legs tremble and my strokes grow lazy and stuttered. The pleasure, along with the sense of wrongness, suddenly creeps in, only making my balls squeeze tighter.
Satiated and completely spent, my cock deflates as quickly as the post-orgasm high at the thought of Jules being on the other side of the thin wall. A heavy sense of shame blankets me, immovable and unbothered by the soap I’m scrubbing into my skin. My mind is throwing out scenarios faster than I can begin to comprehend them.
I woke up with a hard-on after sleeping next to my best friend.
I panic wanked.
I shot my release all over the wall he was resting against.
I pretty much jizzed on my best friend’s back.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Chapter Sixteen
Jules
Age 18
I miss him. It’s been a week since he crawled into my bed. Seven whole nights of lying awake, night after night, wondering if he will climb down the ladder again.
It seems silly to miss someone who is literally right there, but after that night, my bed feels wrong without him in it– like there's too much space, and not enough Zander.
