Disclaimer: This story includes language and themes that may not be comfortable for all readers, so please proceed with discretion. A small portion at the end of this part includes watersports. The ending few sentences contain this kink.
The door flew open like Cole had every right to be inside. Like it was his room, not mine. Cole stood in the doorway, arms braced against the frame. He was still dressed from the night out...black jeans, tight tee clinging to the lines of his chest, chain swinging slightly where it hung from his neck. His eyes were dark and low, expression unreadable, but his jaw was tight.
I sat frozen on the bed. In my hand...still, stupidly was the pouch of his underwear. His used fucking underwear. I’d been holding it over my face not even two minutes ago.
I tried to drop it...Too late.
He saw.
He stepped inside.
“Don’t,” he said.
Just that.
I stopped moving. Swallowed. My mouth was dry, and my heart was pounding so hard it felt like I could taste it.
Cole looked down at the floor by the bed. One of the other pairs..used, stained, crumpled was lying in plain sight. I hadn’t cleaned up. Hadn’t even tried.
I’d been so fucked up, so far gone in my head, I didn’t even think he’d come home.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked, voice low and rough.
I didn’t answer. My throat locked up. My hands were shaking.
He took a few steps closer and reached down. Picked up the pair from the floor. Held it up, stretched between his hands, inspecting the cum-stiffened pouch.
“You jerking off with this shit again?” he said. “You putting this on your face like some nasty little bitch?”
I could barely breathe.
He moved closer. I didn’t even flinch. “You want this?” he said. “You want me? You fucking slut.”
He shoved the pouch of his dirty underwear against my face. The smell hit me instantly. My whole body twitched. My cock thickened in my sweatpants without me even willing it.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Cole grabbed my chin, turned my face to him. His fingers were rough, possessive.
“Fucking knew it,” he muttered. “All those nights you grabbed my laundry like a good little bitch. Thought I didn’t notice how red your ears got? How you’d sneak off to your room with that guilty look in your eye?”
He smirked, pressing closer. “I was just teasing, letting you breathe in my scent… but you went and swallowed my cum out of a used condom? You filthy little bitchboy. You want me that bad, don’t you, Mikey?”
He dragged the pouch of his underwear up the bridge of my nose, slow and deliberate, then down over my lips.
“Open your mouth, you cumdump.”
I did. I didn’t even think. Just obeyed like he was my master.
He shoved the pouch halfway in, pressing it over my tongue. I tasted everything. Sweat. Musk. That faint sharp tang of dried cum. My eyes rolled back.
“Yeah. You like that?,” Cole said, grinning now. “Nasty fuckin’ boy.”
He stood over me, towering and in control. Even from here, I could smell him - that warm, heady mix of clean skin, faint hint of perfume, and the lingering salt of sweat from the club. He kicked off his sneakers and peeled his shirt over his head, revealing that ridiculous torso… thick, solid pecs, abs carved deep enough to follow with a finger, arms lined with veins that flexed as he moved.
“Now that your mouth’s been all over it,” he said, “how about I give you what you really want.”
He unbuttoned his jeans.
My breath caught.
He pulled the zipper down slow, staring right at me. “You been thinking about this, haven’t you, you slut” he said. “Staring at my cock in the locker room. Jerking off after I go to bed. Probably thinking about it when you’re fucking your girl too.”
I flinched.
He smirked.
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
He shoved his jeans down and kicked them aside, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his black briefs and stripped them off. They were damp at the base. The moment they hit the floor, his cock dropped free..thick, weighty, uncut, hanging low with that heavy sway that made my mouth go dry.
Long and veiny. Fuck. Even soft, it looked intimidating. It looked just fucking perfect.
My mouth dropped open without me meaning it to.
Cole stepped forward. “Yeah, open wide, little bitch. Not yet, though. I ain’t giving you my cock yet”
He reached down, gripped his cock at the base, and started stroking. Slow. Measured. His eyes stayed locked on me the whole time, daring me to look away.
I froze, watching his hand work that thick shaft, each tug making his abs flex, his breath deepen. The sound of skin on skin filled the room. He stood there over me, towering, stroking faster now. His muscles tight, jaw clenched, until finally he grunted low in his throat.
Hot ropes of cum spilled out, streaking across the underwear soaking it. Thick, warm lines dripped over my knuckles, the smell hitting me instantly..raw, sharp, unmistakably him.
Cole smirked down at me, still breathing hard. “There,” he said, rubbing the now-sticky fabric over my face. “Fresh. Hot. Just how you like it. Inhale it, bitch. Deep. Don’t hold back now.”
Cole groaned softly as he finished. A few final drips hung at the tip of his cock.
I sat there frozen. Humiliated. Hard as fuck.
He crouched down in front of me, took the now-cum drenched underwear, and rubbed it up my face again.
“Come on,” he said. “Inhale it bitch. Deep. Don’t play shy now.”
I did. I breathed through the soaked cotton, the musk and cum flooding my sinuses. My head spun. My whole body flushed. Cole watched me closely.
“You’re hard,” he said. “Of course you are bitchboy..”
His hand drifted down and rubbed over my bulge through the sweatpants. I gasped. “You think your girl knows?” he said. “That her boyfriend’s out here drinking cum outta another dude’s underwear?”
I tried to answer but I was too busy inhaling his scent, tasting his fresh cum.
“You think she’d still suck your dick if she knew you were crawling on your knees for mine?”
Then he stood.
“Strip.”
I obeyed. Shirt first, then pants. I hesitated at the boxers.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Now.”
I pulled them off. My cock slapped against my stomach. I was leaking. Pathetic. Soaked at the tip. Cole looked down at me and shook his head slowly. “Damn. You really are desperate for me. Fucking hard..”
He leaned in again. Spit directly on my cock. A big glob. It slid down my shaft. “Stroke it,” he said.
I started jerking. Slow. My hand slippery with his spit.
He walked around me. Watched. Eyes cool. Evaluating. Then he bent slightly. Grabbed the same underwear, still soaked with his cum, and shoved it against the base of my cock.
“Rub it with this. Yeah. That’s it. Lube yourself with it. You like that, huh?”
I moaned.
Cole stood tall, staring down at me.
But then...he stopped. Something changed in his expression. He looked down at his own cock. Still half- hard, but not rising like mine.
He sighed. “Fuck.”
Then, without warning, he turned and started pulling his clothes back on.
I blinked. Confused. Still stroking. Still desperate.
“Wait....what’s wrong?”
Cole didn’t answer. He pulled on his underwear, then jeans. Shirt over his head.
“Cole please.. Wait..”
“I’m not feeling it,” he muttered. He turned to the mirror near the dresser. Checked his chain. Ran a hand through his hair. Avoided my eyes.
My chest tightened. “But I...what do you want me to do. Please”
He cut me off.
“I don’t want your mouth on me. Not yet.”
I was still on my knees, cock twitching in the air.
“Then why...why did you...Cole.”
He looked at me then. Finally. His face wasn’t angry. It was almost blank. “I’m just trying to see what you are,” he said. “And whether I want it.”
The words hit harder than a slap. I looked down. Ashamed. Confused. Desperate for more.
He moved toward the door.
Paused.
“Come here,” he said. “There’s still a few drops of cum left on my cock,” he said, voice dripping with mockery. “Clean it, bitch boy.”
He pulled his cock out, thick and glistening. I crawled toward him without thinking. He laughed, low and cruel. “Look at you. I was checking. Still so fucking desperate.”
He smeared his thumb along the tip, scooping up a pearly drop, and held it out.
“Open.”
I opened. He pressed it past my lips.
“You still don’t get to touch my cock,” he chuckled. “You really thought I’d let you suck it clean? Pathetic.”
I sucked his thumb, tasting him, eyes closed, imagining it was his cock. He laughed again, rough and deep. “Good little bitch,” he muttered, pulling his hand away. Then he dropped the cum-soaked underwear in front of me like tossing a bone to a dog.
And he walked out.
Left me there. Desperate. Kneeling. Cock aching. Nose full of his scent.
I stared at that underwear, then crawled toward it. Because I knew.
He wasn’t done with me yet.
The door shut like a sentence.
Firm and final. Like he meant to leave me there.
I didn’t move for a long time. My knees burned against the floor. My cock throbbed, untouched now, dribbling against my thigh like it was leaking humiliation. The underwear he ejaculated on sat in front of me. It was till warm and it reeking of his alpha scent.
And I hated how badly I wanted it.
I reached out without even thinking and dragged the pouch up my chest, to my face, and pressed it there. Breathing it in long and deep. His cum, his sweat and that raw scent of everything that came off that majestic body of his. It clung to my skin, thick as guilt, and I moaned into his underwear like I could inhale his dominance straight into my nose.
This was what I was now. A fucking laundry boy. A cum rag and nothing else.
And I still didn’t cum.
He’d left me hard, aching and desperate for more. Told me he was “just seeing what I was., what I had become and how far I'd go.”
And I knew that meant there was more coming.
This wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning.
────୨ৎ────
The next day, Cole didn’t say a word or even look at me. He went to the gym early. Left a sweat-drenched tank top on the back of the kitchen chair like bait. I didn’t touch it atleast not right away.
But later that afternoon, I walked past it and brushed my fingers over the shoulder. It was still damp. I leaned in and sniffed.
Fucking hell. It smelled like heaven and filth. Like salt and testosterone and whatever masculine perfume he sprayed in the morning that never stood a chance against the alpha scent. I pressed my face into his shirt and moaned like a bitch. My cock hardened instantly. I didn’t even think.
And that’s when he walked back in catching me mid-sniff.
“Really, bro?” Cole said from behind me.
I jumped back, like I’d been caught stealing something. My cheeks burned. My dick stiff in my shorts.
He shut the door and locked it. Tossed his gym bag on the floor.
“I leave a shirt out for just a while and you lose your fuckin’ mind over it?”
I swallowed.
Cole walked toward me, slow and steady, sweat still glistening across his massive shoulders. His shorts clung to his thighs as if they were painted on. The room smelled like him. Even stronger now: Real and fucking thick. He just stood there with his arms crossed., watching me.
“Strip..boy.”, Cole said.
I obeyed without hesitation.
T-shirt...Shorts.... Boxers. Everything to the floor. I stood in front of him, hard and exposed.
“Sooo. You didn’t cum yesterday, did you?”
I shook my head.
“Good,” he said. “Keep it that way.”
He stepped forward. Close now. His scent hit like a punch.... stronger than the shirt. Hot. Unfiltered. Pure gym stink. It clung to the sweat on his skin and curled into my nose like smoke. My whole body responded.
“You want to sniff my pits, boy?” he asked.
I nodded.
He grabbed the back of my head...yanked me in towards him. My face smacked into his armpit. Warm, soaked and hairy. He held me there with his fingers twisted in my hair. His bicep flexed against my ear like a fucking vise.
“Breathe it in, bitch-boy.”
I did. Couldn’t stop. The scent poured into my nostrils: sour, raw and masculine. It made my mouth water.
Cole growled low in his throat. “This what you wanted, huh? My stink. You been jerking off to this?”
He shoved my face harder against his pit, grinding me there like he was marking me. I moaned. I felt my cock twitch, leaking again, untouched. He let go suddenly and shoved me down to my knees. Then he stepped out of his shorts. No underwear underneath. His cock swung low in front of my face. Uncut. Soft, but thick and heavy, dark with sweat. Veins thick under the skin. His balls hung full and were damp from the workout.
He stepped forward and gripped the back of my neck. Pulled me in. “Look at it. You been dreaming about this shit, haven’t you?”
I nodded slowly, lips parted, breath coming fast.
“You ain’t earned it yet,” he muttered. “But I’m curious. Let’s see how desperate you are.”
He brought my face closer. The heat of his cock flushed against my cheek. My nose filled with the scent of his balls; musky, sour and addictive. I moaned again.
“Open your mouth,” he said.
I did.
He pushed his cock in.. soft, but hardening a bit. The foreskin slid against my tongue, salty and wet with sweat. He didn’t move fast. Just held me there and let his cock grow in my mouth.
It grew bigger and thicker.... filling my mouth.
I tried to pull back just to breathe but his thighs closed in around my head. Hard.
“Nuh uh. You stay right there, boy.”
His cock pulsed on my tongue. My throat tightened and I wanted to suck him so bad. I wanted to worship that big fat cock. I wanted to take it all and give him everything. But he didn’t fuck my mouth, nor did he thrust. He just kept me there. Letting it get harder. Letting me feel the weight. The power.
The fact that I couldn’t move unless he let me.
It was everything I’d ever wanted.
His cock heavy in my mouth. The warmth of it. The weight. The musk.
The way it twitched against my tongue like it was waking up, like it knew exactly where it belonged. I didn’t suck. I wasn't allowed to. I just let it rest there, lips stretched wide, tongue pressed to the underside of that thick, veiny shaft. I could feel the soft foreskin in my mouth, still clinging to the head, hiding it from me like I hadn’t earned that yet.
Cole's thighs tensed around my face.
I couldn’t move. He was keeping me there. Pinning me in place with nothing but pure and control. I couldn’t even breathe right; every inhale brought in the hot, ripe scent of sweat and crotch and skin. It was overwhelming and bit intoxicating.. in the best possible way. My dick throbbed untouched between my legs, already leaking onto the floor.
He was growing hared now. Slowly. Filling my mouth. Each second, he got heavier, thicker. The head of his cock nudged deeper toward my throat, still soft but stiffening with every beat of his heart.
“You feel that, Mikey?” he muttered above me, voice low and smug. “That’s your slutty mouth. Making me hard.”
I moaned a little.
He flexed his thighs a little tighter around my head. The sweat dripping on his inner thigh smearing across my face. My nose was buried against his balls now; swollen, musky, ripe from the gym. I didn't want to pull way.
This was where I belonged. On my knees. Mouth full of my straight roommate's cock. Nose buried in alpha scent and completely fucking owned.
He started to rock just barely. Not fucking my mouth, not yet. Just enough so I could feel the heft of him dragging across my tongue. Like he was teasing me. Letting me taste, but not serve.
I moaned. I tried to suck.
Wrong move.
He gripped my hair hard. Yanked my head back just far enough for his cock to pop free from my lips with a wet slap.
“Ah-ah,” he said, panting slightly. “You don’t get to suck. You just hold it. You worship.”
His cock glistened with my spit. A thick drop of precum beaded at the tip. I watched it fall. Landed on my cheek.
“Look at you,” he muttered. “All messy. Fucking desperate.”
I reached down to touch myself.
“No.”
He kicked my hand away with his foot.
“You don’t get to cum. You don’t get to do shit.”
I looked up at him, lips swollen, face flushed, breath ragged. I wanted to beg. I wanted to say please. I wanted to take him back in and never let go.
But he just stared at me, jaw flexing. Then shook his head.
“You know what?” Cole said, pulling out of my mouth with a wet pop. “You don’t deserve my nut today. You look way too desperate.”
I groaned.
He looked down at his cock. It was thick and flushed now. Rock hard. Then he grinned. “But you can drink something else.”
He gripped the base of his cock and aimed it down towards my mouth.
“Open.”
I opened my mouth
He pissed.
A sudden, hot stream that hit the back of my tongue and made me gag but I didn’t pull back. I swallowed. Mouth full. Over and over, as he let loose a full stream of piss down my throat.
“You want to serve me?” he said, still pissing. “Then drink every fucking drop.”
I nodded while I swallowed. It ran down my chin. Splashed on my chest.
His scent was everywhere.
He finally stopped, shaking the last drops onto my tongue. Then he stepped back. His cock still hard.
My cock throbbing and untouched.
“You don’t cum till I say.”
He grabbed a towel from his gym bag and wiped himself off, completely casual.
I sat there, soaked and shaking.
He walked to the door. Paused. “Keep my socks out of the wash,” he said. “I want ‘em real ripe next time.”
Then he left.
And I sat in the silence.Desperate and leaking.
And finally sure of it.
I didn’t want him to just fuck me.
I wanted him to own me.
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