Silent Witness
© Broken Boundaries Gay Erotica
Wednesday morning sunlight stung my eyes as I pushed open the dorm door, stepping inside feeling like I was glowing from the inside out. My whole body was humming, skin flushed, heart still fluttering wildly. Mason glanced up from his desk, earbuds dangling loosely from his ears, textbook forgotten the instant he saw me.
"Dude," he said with an exaggerated smirk, dropping his pen dramatically. "Seriously, again? What the fuck did Casper do to you?"
"Nothing," I protested weakly, face already burning.
"Nothing, my ass," Mason snorted, shaking his head, eyes glittering mischievously. "You look like someone ran you over with a good time. You definitely got laid. Who was it, Eli? Hot gymnast chick? Dance major? Wait, wait, don't tell me—yoga instructor?"
"It wasn't like that," I managed lamely, slinging my bag onto the floor by my bed.
"Sure," Mason drawled, leaning back with a cocky grin, folding his arms behind his head. "Keep your secrets, Romeo. But don't think I'm buying your bullshit 'just training' line."
He winked, utterly pleased with himself, and I turned away, forcing out a shaky breath as heat coiled tightly in my chest. I tried desperately to suppress the thoughts flickering behind my eyes: Casper’s strong hands on my shoulders, the sharp, low commands, his cock sliding between my lips...
Thursday and Friday blurred together into a dizzying pattern of early mornings. Each session started the same way: kneeling obediently, Casper’s firm grip guiding my movements, his quiet murmurs as he pushed himself deeper into my mouth, and then relentless, punishing drills that left me trembling, exhilarated, my performances improving noticeably each time. It was working, exactly as Casper said it would.
But there was a problem, a big one. Every training session left me aching, throbbing, impossibly turned on, with no relief in sight. Classes, gym, Mason always fucking around, always there, cock-blocking by sheer proximity. By Friday evening I was climbing the walls, desperate to find some space to release the frustration simmering under my skin.
Then Casper surprised me, texting Friday night that we’d have an extra session Saturday morning, later at 8 a.m., a small mercy. When I crept out of the dorm early Saturday, I was startled to see Mason already awake, lounging casually on his bed, watching me intently.
"Off for another round, Eli?" Mason asked lazily, a teasing edge to his voice.
"Just training," I muttered, slipping out quickly before he could interrogate me further.
The halls were eerily quiet, the whole building still sleeping off Friday night. As I hurried through the deserted corridors, I felt an uneasy prickle down my spine. The feeling persisted even after I glanced back, seeing nothing. Just my imagination, probably.
Casper was waiting for me, calm and composed as always, ice-blue eyes glittering faintly with that now-familiar predatory gleam. Kneeling became second nature, a relief almost, as my lips parted willingly, welcoming his hardness deep into my throat, tasting him, savoring the control he wielded effortlessly. Each stroke he pushed me further, trained me deeper, until I was gasping, shaking, beautifully wrecked.
As I rose afterward, breath still ragged, I swore I heard the faint creak of a door somewhere in the gym. I glanced around quickly, heart jumping, but saw nothing. Casper didn't seem to notice.
"Good work, Eli," he said softly, handing me a towel. "You're improving fast."
The rest of Saturday stretched endlessly, Mason lingering in the room, friends dragging me out, leaving me nowhere, no time to relieve myself. By evening, I was almost delirious, body wired, cock aching desperately for release.
Finally, mercifully, Mason left for the bars, and when I got home a few hours after he’d left, I was alone. My clothes were off in seconds, my back hitting the mattress, fingers closing eagerly around my painfully hard cock. My breath caught sharply, chest rising and falling rapidly as images flooded my mind.
Casper. Always Casper.
The vivid memory of him standing tall and calm above me, eyes glittering with authority as he guided my lips onto his cock, filled my consciousness entirely. My own hand mimicked that rhythm, fingers tightening around my shaft, sliding slowly upward, thumb brushing slick precum across my sensitive tip, pulling a shuddering gasp from my throat.
My tongue instinctively darted out, wetting my lips as if Casper were standing right there, silently commanding me to prepare myself for him. I imagined his scent, rich and heady, invading my senses, making my pulse quicken even more. My cock throbbed insistently in my grasp as I vividly remembered the saline, masculine taste of him, pressing insistently on my tongue, how he’d held the back of my head gently, firmly, controlling every inch that passed between my lips.
I stroked myself harder, hips jerking upward involuntarily. The vision of Casper’s lean, muscular body flexing as he thrust slowly into my mouth sent hot spikes of arousal surging through me. My throat tightened reflexively at the phantom sensation of his cock slipping deeper, forcing me to relax, forcing me to surrender completely to his pace, his pleasure. My own fingers mirrored that powerful, deliberate rhythm, squeezing tighter, sliding faster, matching each remembered stroke.
Casper’s whispered praise echoed clearly in my ears, the way he'd quietly murmured encouragement while guiding my movements. “Good boy, Eli,” he'd breathed softly, sending shivers down my spine. “Take me deeper. Show me you can handle it.” I whimpered softly into the empty room, hips lifting from the mattress again, thrusting urgently into my hand as I lost myself fully in the fantasy.
My breathing grew rapid, uneven, my cock slick and pulsing hot in my grip. My eyes fluttered closed, chest heaving as I pictured Casper’s fingers threading through my hair, tightening slightly to hold me still, hips rolling smoothly, his cock gliding deep into my throat. The ache of longing in my chest was sharp, intense, matched only by the throbbing desperation pulsing through every inch of my aching cock.
As the fantasy deepened, I let myself imagine more, pushing into new, uncharted desires that I'd barely allowed myself to consider until now. Casper’s low voice, murmuring darkly seductive commands, flooded my thoughts. “We’re going to push you further today, Eli,” he whispered, that wicked edge to his voice making my whole body tremble. “It’s time to prepare you properly.”
My heart raced faster at those words. My hand slowed slightly on my cock, squeezing firmly, prolonging the torturous pleasure as I envisioned Casper gently but firmly urging me onto all fours, the cool mats of the gym beneath me. I imagined his strong, sure hands sliding down my back, gripping my hips firmly, thumbs pressing softly into the sensitive flesh at the top of my ass cheeks.
A needy moan escaped me as my free hand drifted downward, exploring tentatively along my inner thigh, teasing closer and closer to places I'd never allowed myself to touch. The fantasy Casper spread me open slowly, confidently. I shivered deeply, vividly feeling the pressure of his thumbs sliding along my crease, opening me further, exposing me fully.
In my mind, Casper murmured softly, reassuring yet commanding. “Relax, Eli. Trust me.” I drew in a shaky breath, surrendering completely to the powerful image of him preparing my body. I imagined his warm breath ghosting across my exposed hole, making me quiver with anticipation. My fingers brushed tentatively against the sensitive entrance, sending a lightning bolt of sensation straight through my core. My cock twitched sharply in response, precum dripping freely onto my stomach, slicking my shaft as I resumed stroking myself faster.
In the fantasy, Casper pressed the tip of a slick finger slowly into me, stretching me carefully, deliberately, exploring deeper. My entire body tightened momentarily before melting into the imagined sensation, my hips pushing back slightly, welcoming more of his intimate touch. My fingers traced small, cautious circles around my entrance, mirroring the fantasy Casper’s careful, erotic preparations. The sensation was overwhelming, the newness exhilarating, each delicate stroke making my pulse hammer harder, louder in my ears.
Breathing ragged, hips trembling, I fully surrendered myself to the intensity of the fantasy. Casper’s finger pressed deeper now, gently but insistently opening me, exploring slowly, methodically. My own fingers pressed tentatively against my tight hole, not quite penetrating but teasing, testing, making my cock throb almost painfully in desperate need.
Casper’s quiet praise continued in my mind, filling me with warmth, lust, and an aching desire for more. “You’re doing so good, Eli,” he whispered, the voice in my mind husky with lust and dominance. “You’re opening beautifully. Soon you’ll be ready to take my cock.”
Those words alone sent a jolt of ecstasy tearing through me, driving my hand to stroke faster, harder along my shaft. I was close, teetering right on the edge of release, my entire body vibrating with pent-up tension and pleasure. My hips rocked upward helplessly, chasing the friction, craving the pressure, desperate to finally achieve the relief I’d been denied for days.
In the vivid theater of my mind, Casper withdrew his finger slowly, leaving me feeling empty, aching, desperate to be filled again. “Not yet,” he said gently but firmly, his voice sending another tremor through my entire being. “You’re almost ready, Eli. Soon you’ll have all of me.”
A desperate cry escaped my throat as I stroked myself feverishly, imagining Casper’s cock sliding back between my lips once more, deeper this time, filling my mouth completely. I could almost taste him again, could almost feel the weight and heat of him sliding firmly, smoothly down my throat.
But the fantasy shifted, evolving into something new, forbidden, and powerfully erotic. Something he had introduced me to that I now found myself craving. My imagination vividly conjured Casper’s strong hands gently guiding my head downward, past his shaft, lower and lower, until my mouth found the smooth, warm skin of his balls. My tongue eagerly traced the delicate seam between them, savoring the salty tang of his sweat, inhaling his deeply masculine scent.
I whimpered softly, stroking myself with renewed urgency, hips thrusting upward as my mind took me further into this intoxicating scenario. I envisioned Casper’s quiet groan of pleasure, felt the gentle shiver run through his body as I lavished slow, wet attention on his balls, licking and sucking lightly, teasing out every twitch and tremble I could manage.
My fantasy pushed even further. Casper’s confident grip guided me lower still, and I willingly, eagerly complied, tongue sliding slowly along the sensitive stretch of skin beneath his balls. His thighs tightened under my touch, a clear sign of approval that spurred me on, deeper into uncharted territory.
My breath grew uneven, ragged, as I vividly imagined Casper spreading his legs slightly wider, fully exposing himself, offering himself to me completely. My tongue found his entrance, and I shuddered hard at the imagined intimacy, tracing slow, careful circles around that sensitive, forbidden place. Casper’s low, approving moan echoed through my imagination, encouraging me further. I pressed in gently, tentatively, then more boldly, reveling in the way his hips shifted slightly to meet my exploring tongue.
“God, Eli,” he groaned softly, voice thick with lust, approval clear in every breathy syllable. “Just like that. Keep going.”
The words pushed me deeper into pleasure. My free hand gripped the sheets tightly as I imagined pressing my tongue into him more firmly, feeling the heat, the incredible vulnerability and trust Casper displayed by allowing me this intimate pleasure. My tongue stroked rhythmically, deeper, more confident now, relishing the way he shivered with pleasure beneath my touch.
My heart pounded relentlessly in my chest, blood rushing hotly through my veins, my own cock aching, slick, throbbing furiously in my grasp. I imagined Casper’s thighs trembling slightly as my tongue delved even deeper, savoring the intoxicating taste and scent of him, driving him closer and closer to the edge.
I imagined sliding back upward now, slowly retracing my path, leaving lingering kisses along his skin until my mouth once again enveloped his cock, taking him smoothly, deeply down my throat. His breathing quickened sharply in my fantasy, his hips rocking gently, guiding himself into the tight heat of my willing mouth, every thrust now becoming more urgent, every pulse of his cock signaling his approaching climax.
My own climax was building rapidly now, driven by the overwhelming intensity of the scene playing vividly in my mind, Casper’s body arching toward release, preparing to spill himself deep into my throat. My hand tightened urgently, rhythm frantic now, my breath coming in sharp, gasping pants as I felt the pressure building unbearably in my core.
My hips bucked helplessly into my hand, pleasure building sharply, heart racing toward a long-awaited climax. My breath grew ragged, gasping, my moans louder now, room spinning—and then, without warning, the dorm door slammed open.
"Shit," I gasped, jerking upright, grabbing hastily for anything to cover myself.
Mason stumbled into the room, eyes glassy from alcohol, gaze locked hungrily on me.
"Don't stop," he said, voice thick, rough.
Before I could process what was happening, he peeled off his own shirt, exposing a chest I'd secretly admired countless times. My heart slammed into my ribs as he stepped closer, eyes never leaving mine.
What the fuck was about to happen?
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