Senior year. Psych major. Resident assistant on this quiet third-floor wing for two years now. The job is straightforward most nights. Walk the hall after midnight. Flashlight in hand. Peek under doors. Make sure no one is blasting music through forgotten earbuds or having a meltdown loud enough to wake half the floor. Write up the idiots who break quiet hours. Keep the scholarship money flowing. Keep the floor calm. Keep me in charge.
That’s the theory anyway.
The dorm is old. Carpet thin and stained from spilled energy drinks. Exit sign flickers at the far end like it’s about to die. Doors stay shut most nights. Occasional crack when someone needs to air out pizza grease or vape clouds. This floor stays quiet. No ragers. No drama. Just comp-sci dudes staring at screens and psych majors like me pretending we’re not one bad grade away from losing it.
Tonight the hallway smelled like cold ramen and that cheap body spray every freshman thinks makes them smell expensive. I did my usual loop. Flashlight beam sliding under doors. Nothing. No noise. No light leaking. Everything was normal normal. Then I reached room 312.
Door cracked. Two inches. Warm light spilling out. I stopped. Standard move. Check for safety.
Then I heard it.
Faint rhythmic slapping. Wet. Steady. Low choked moans leaking through the crack. Barely there. But enough to carry. My gut flipped. Cock twitched in my gym shorts before my brain even caught up. I told myself to knock. Shine the light. Ask if everything was okay. Do the fucking job.
Instead I stepped closer. Quiet. Flashlight off. Leaned in just enough to see without blocking the light.
Jaxon.
Hottest freshman on the floor. Six-three. Lanky but starting to fill out in the shoulders from the rec center. Dirty blond hair always messy. Quiet in the halls. Always polite. “Hey Elliot.” “Hey man! Thanks for the heads-up on the fire drill.” Never caused trouble. Never gave me a reason to linger.
Until now.
He was on his bed. Blanket half kicked off. One hand moving. Slow. Deliberate. Phone screen glowing on his chest. Porn audio leaking just loud enough. Wet slaps. Low grunts. Heavy breathing that made my own catch. His other hand gripped the sheet. Abs flexed with every stroke. The room was dark except for the phone glow. I couldn’t see much. Just the outline of his arm moving. The rise and fall of his chest. The faint sheen of sweat on his skin.
I stood there. Frozen. Flashlight dangling useless in my hand. Cock thickening fast in my shorts. Pre-cum leaked into the pouch. I adjusted once. Quiet. Couldn’t look away. Breathing got shallow. Chest tight. I told myself to walk. Do the rounds. Be the RA. Instead my feet wouldn’t move.
He slowed his strokes. Didn’t stop. Looked straight at the door crack. Saw my shadow from the hallway light. Didn’t cover up. Didn’t freak. Just kept his hand moving. Slower now. Eyes locked on mine through the gap.
“Yo… Elliot,” he said. Voice soft. Shy. But sure. “You gonna keep watching or you wanna come in?”
My heart slammed. My throat went dry. I should have knocked. Shined the light. Said something official. “Keep it down.” “Quiet hours.” Instead I pushed the door open wider. Stepped inside. Pulled it shut behind me. Soft click.
Room smelled like him. Fresh sweat. Lube. Faint cum edge. Jaxon reached to the side. Clicked on the desk lamp. Warm light flooded the bed. Lit his face. Sharp jaw. Dirty blond hair messy. Eyes dark and hungry now. Then lower. Lit his body. Long legs spread. Abs tight. Hand still wrapped around his thick cock. The whole thing throbbed once. Twice.
I was lost for words. I tried adjusting my glasses. Fingers fumbled.
“Jax… mate,” I managed. Voice cracked. “What you doing?”
He tilted his phone toward me. Screen showed a girl getting railed. Audio low. Wet slaps. Moans. “Nothing. Just horny as fuck.”
He kept stroking. Slow. Deliberate. “You do rounds every night. You’ve walked past my door before. Heard me?”
“Sometimes,” I admitted. Voice rough. “Thought it was nothing.”
“Well, I was watching porn.” He tilted the phone again. Audio leaked louder for a second. Then he muted it. “But tonight I left the door open for you.”
My cock jumped visibly. Pre-cum leaked more. I stepped closer. Knees hit the side of the bed. Face inches from his cock. Smell hit full force. Sweat. Pre-cum. Faint soap. Head shiny. Foreskin half-retracted. Veins thick.
He stroked once more. Pre-cum beaded. Dripped. “You gonna stand there or help me keep it quiet?”
I froze inside the door. Jaxon didn’t cover up. Just kept stroking slow. Cock glistening under the light from his phone screen. “Didn’t think the RA would be into this kinda show.”
My voice cracked. “I… should write you up for noise.”
Jaxon smirked. Small. Confident. “Do it then. I ain’t stopping you.”
He reached over to the wall switch. Flicked the room light on. Warm overhead bulb flooded everything. Lit the bed. Lit him. Jaxon sat up a little. Legs spread wider. Cock bobbed with the movement. Thick. Uncut. Veiny shaft curved up slightly. Head flushed light pink. Foreskin half-retracted. Pre-cum beaded at the slit. Blond pubes trimmed short but still matted with sweat. Eight inches easy. Maybe a bit more. The whole thing throbbed once. Heavy. Like it knew I was staring.
My eyes dropped to his abs. Tight. Defined. Sweat sheen catching the light. Then lower. Long legs spread. Thighs lean but strong. Everything about him looked effortless. Built without trying. I swallowed hard. Mouth dry. Cock straining in my shorts. Pre-cum leaking steady now.
Jaxon kept stroking. Slow. Deliberate. “I see the way you look at me when I come out of the dorm showers.”
I blinked. Face burned.
He continued. Voice soft but sure. “Towel slung low around my hips. Water still dripping down my chest. You always find something to fix in the hallway right then.”
I tried to speak. “Nah man… you just drip a lot.”
Jaxon laughed once. Low. “Nah mate. I’ve seen you watch me shirtless at the soccer field. Staring at my body when I’m stretching after practice.”
He was right. I remembered it clear. Late afternoon. Field empty except for him. Shirt off. Sweaty. Bending to stretch. Abs flexing. Happy trail disappearing into low shorts. I’d walked by. Pretended to check the bulletin board. Kept looking. Cock twitched then too. I told myself it was nothing. Just noticing a fit junior. Nothing more.
Now my cock was hard as fuck. Obvious tent in my shorts. Wet spot spreading.
“Jaxon,” I started. Voice shaky. Tried to deny. “I wasn’t—”
He cut me off. “You were.”
Jaxon stroked faster once. Pre-cum dripped down the shaft. “Come closer. Look.”
I stepped forward. Knees hit the side of the bed. Face inches from his cock. Smell hit full force. Fresh sweat. Pre-cum. Head shiny. Foreskin half-retracted. Veins thick. The whole thing throbbed. Leaked more.
Jaxon looked down at me. Smirk soft. “Don’t be shy man. My dick doesn’t bite.”
I stared. Couldn’t look away. Cock pulsed in my shorts. Leaked harder. I bit my lip. Involuntarily.
Jaxon stroked again. Slow. “My cock surely would make you gag though.”
I swallowed. “Uh…”
He tilted his head. Eyes dark. “You gonna keep looking at it, or help me out?”
My mouth watered. Heart slammed. I didn’t answer. Just stared at the thick shaft. The leaking head. The way it throbbed every time his hand moved.
Jaxon stroked once more. Pre-cum beaded bigger. Dripped slow. “Come on, Elliot. Help me keep it quiet.”
My mouth watered. I dropped to my knees beside the bed.
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