Exploring Boundaries

It was late Friday afternoon of the first weekend in October of my freshman year of college. I was supposed to go home for a cousin’s wedding. I wasn’t really looking forward to a wedding or the two-hour drive. Since I didn’t even know my cousin all that well, I really wasn’t looking forward to his wedding. Plus I had an exam on Monday and really needed the weekend to study. But I knew my mom wanted me to attend, so I reluctantly planned to make the trip. It had been nearly two months since I’d left for school, so I did look forward to seeing her and my dad and grabbing a beer with some of the buddies I’d left behind.

I also looked forward to sleeping in my own bed again, even if it was only for two nights. But even more than that, I especially looked forward to the privacy of being in my own bedroom. In that first month on campus, I realized having a roommate made it difficult to find the time to take care of myself. Or browse porn on my laptop. Occasionally I’d have alone time while my roommate was gone to a class, but most of the time, the only private time I had to jerk off was after he fell asleep. At home I’d be able to browse internet porn and jerk off whenever I felt like it. So I was definitely looking forward to a couple of nights of privacy.

My university didn’t allow freshmen to have a car on campus during the first semester, so I had to hitch a ride and found a junior who was traveling that weekend and could drop me off. I made sure to show up early because he told me he’d be on a tight schedule and would have to leave without me if I showed up late. We left right on time, but shortly after we took off, I realized I’d forgotten to pack my dress shoes and belt. Thankfully we weren’t on the interstate yet, so I just decided to bail on the trip home. I really did need the study time, and I knew my mom would understand when I told her about my Monday exam. We were passing a strip mall just then, which is where I had my ride drop me off. I got an Uber and headed back to campus.

By the time I got back to my dorm, I’d been gone almost an hour. My roommate, Lucas, was no doubt looking forward to having our room to himself for the weekend for the same reason I was looking forward to my bedroom: privacy. But neither one of us would have that luxury, not this weekend. Now, don’t get me wrong—I like Lucas. A lot. He’s actually the perfect roommate for me. They say opposites attract, but Lucas and I are almost like clones of each other, and I think that’s why I like him so much. We just “get” each, and we did from the day we met.

Neither of us plays team sports, but we’re both athletic. We’re not ripped but toned. We’re both straight A students but not nerds. But maybe too nerdish for the females? I hadn’t had a girlfriend in high school, and the girls weren’t exactly flocking to me here, either. Then again, I never pursued them, so who knows? In the month I’d known him, Lucas hadn’t mentioned any girlfriends either. Oddly—or perhaps calculatedly on both our parts—we hadn’t actually discussed the subject. My virginity wasn’t a subject I cared to chat about.

But I also don’t think our lack of experience with girls had anything to do with our looks. If anything, we both should have attracted at least some female attention. We both have that boy-next-door, wholesome look. We both have short brown hair, styled to one side, and brown eyes. We’re both 5’10” and have lean builds—both runners, and we both hit the weights at the gym. Not a lot of body hair. We each have a small tuft in the middle of our chests, and a definite dark happy trail that disappears in our shorts.

In Lucas’s case, I couldn’t have described in much detail what that happy trail led to. Though we’d been living together going on two months, I hadn’t seen Lucas naked much. Not considering myself attracted to dudes, I didn’t pay much attention the few times I had caught a glimpse of him in the buff. But I do have to say, even then I noticed that his limp dick was impressive. Like me, he’s uncut, but his foreskin entirely covers up the head of his soft dick, which was particularly impressive given how big it was when it was soft. The few times I noticed it, I always had the same thought: that thing must be huge when it balloons up. And it was nestled in a wild dark bush. Beyond that, I couldn’t tell you much about it.

On the other hand, I can describe myself below the belt in great detail. I, too, have a wild dark bush. And, if I may say so myself, a relatively big dick when it’s soft. Hard, it’s 7.5” and thick. My nearly egg-sized, low-hanging nuts are covered in light brown fuzz. Like I mentioned, I’m uncut, and like Lucas’s, my foreskin also totally covers the head of my dick when it’s soft. When I’m completely hard, I have a thick, veiny, light-skinned shaft that leads to a deep pinkish-purplish head with a darker, contrasting, reddish-purplish corona.

Anyway, I’d never had to share a room with someone before, so the lack of privacy was taking some adjustment. Though we hadn’t discussed it, I assumed it was the same for Lucas. He has only one older sister, so he’d never had to share a bedroom before, either. Which was the reason I suspected my aborted trip plans would be at least a bit of a letdown for him, too.

Even though I figured that Lucas would no doubt use his privacy the same way I had planned to use mine, it was still a surprise when I opened the door to our room to find him doing just that! There he was, sitting at his desk in his gaming chair apparently completely nude (my view was blocked), legs spread with internet porn playing on his laptop. He had his earbuds in and, judging by the rhythmic movement of his right arm, as jerking off. He was oblivious to my presence. I closed the door behind me before anyone else might catch a glimpse.

I debated what to do for a moment, but then in a somewhat raised voice, I just said his name.

“Lucas.” No reaction. I then realized that he was moaning, so between that and having his earbuds in, I knew I hadn’t been loud enough. I raised my voice even more but still tried not to be so loud that I’d be heard outside our door.

“Lucas!”

This time he swiveled his chair around to face me—confirming that he was, not surprisingly, completely buck-naked—and also confirming my clone theory: it was like having an out-of-body experience looking at my own junk. His dick and balls looked just like mine, except his dick was definitely bigger—longer and thicker. I didn’t have a completely unobstructed view because his engorged cock was gripped in his right hand, and his left was mostly out of sight, apparently fingering his own asshole.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” He kept repeating “oh fuck” feverishly and before the thought could fully register in my mind that he was on the verge of orgasm, Lucas’s dick shot one thick rope that hit his cheek and streaked across face at an angle and across his lips, dripping toward his chin. That was followed by a second shot that hit his upper chest, right above that patch of hair, and a third on his bare, sexy, tight abs. Several more pulses of cum erupted from the gaping slit, but without enough force to eject them further than his hand, where it ran down in streams.

I remained frozen, not knowing if or how to react or what to say. I was trying to sort through a swirl of thoughts and emotions. Is Lucas gay? He looks so fucking hot like that, dick in hand—but fingering his own hole? He’s gay, isn’t he? I realized I was getting hard, too. Fuck! Am I gay? I thought that was hot! Fuck! I still do! I want to whip out my own dick and relieve my full testicles of their load. What. The. Fuck?

As his orgasm subsided and he began to catch his breath, Lucas let go of his now only half-hard but very slimy, cum-covered big dick. As he removed his other hand from between his legs, he licked the cum off his lips. Then he put two of his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, before using them to remove his earbuds and lay them aside. His elbows rested on the arms of his chair, as his forearms pointed upwards with messy hands limply dangling from his wrists. The way he was splayed out in front of me was a strikingly gay pose for someone I had never before remotely imagined to be gay. To my great relief, he finally spoke.

“Sorry, dude! By the time I realized someone else was in the room, it was either a ruined orgasm … or. That. I just really needed to bust a nut and I sure didn’t expect you back anytime soon. Sorry to inflict it on you, man.”

I felt like I had to say something, but I was still speechless. This was the closest I had ever been in my life to the sexual act of any other person. I watched him stroke his big, hard dick, the foreskin moving back and forth over his shaft. I watched him spurt. I saw his cum face and heard his cum moan. And—this is the troubling part—it turned me on. A lot! A straight voice in my head was freaking out. What the fuck? It was another guy masturbating. Why did that turn me on? He was masturbating a cock that looks like a clone of mine, I thought, responding to the straight voice in my head. But why did seeing a clone of my cock turn me on? Lucas’s half-deflated monster, still semi-erect and pointing at about the three o’clock position, was further confirmation that we were clones of each other. This time his nudity had my full attention for reasons I would have to work through. And I do mean full attention. His dick definitely did look like a clone of mine, just one or two sizes bigger. And just then, my dick was also at half mast, entirely noticeable given that I was going commando in a pair of silky thin basketball shorts.

Confused and concerned about my own sexuality, which seemed to be betraying me against my will, I blurted out the question that the voice in my head was posing to me: “Are you gay?”

He instinctively retorted. “No. Why? Are you?” He gestured to the tent in my shorts. I looked down. Oh my fucking god! I’m not just hard; there’s a big wet spot!

“But you were finger fucking your own asshole, dude!” I said.

“And it turned you on?” he asked for obvious reasons. Before I could formulate an answer, he slumped in his chair. “I know,” he said. He looked back up at me. “Do you think fingerfucking myself makes me gay, bro?”

I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for what I’d said, but I still didn’t speak. I still didn’t know what to say.

He continued. “It feels so fucking good though! And it was a girl who turned me on to it. But I keep asking myself if it makes me gay. I mean, I know I still love tits and pussy, so I can’t be gay, right?”

These are not questions I’d wrestled with before this very moment. But now that they had been raised, they immediately seemed existentially important. Who the fuck am I really? Do I even know? After what I’d just witnessed, it was actually a little reassuring that Lucas was asking himself the same questions and apparently had been for a while. I’d only gotten hard and leaky watching a guy jack off. Okay, well, jacking off and fingerfucking himself. Why was the fingerfucking hot? I wondered. But he was the one getting off on the fingerfucking.

He then posed a question. “If you tried guys and then lost interest in girls, you would be gay, at least then, right?”

I tried to be reassuring. “So you probably can’t know for sure unless you try. And if you don’t try, then you must not be interested enough to be worried about it.” I wasn’t sure I succeeded in reassuring him or whether face was giving away my own doubts. I had frozen in place from the moment I stepped in and closed the door behind me, which at this point had become a bit of an awkward pose right inside the door. Curiously, despite the mutual embarrassment and clumsiness of the whole situation, the one thing that didn’t seem to be bothering Lucas was the fact that he was still sitting there chatting with me even though he was a spoogy mess on full display. And I couldn’t help but notice that his dick seemed to be getting harder again. Or is that just my imagination?

Then I remembered. The porn playing on his laptop. I glanced at his laptop over his shoulder. Like I thought. It’s penis porn, and it’s still playing! It’s a compilation of short clips, each of which are only seconds long. Closeups of penises, cutting away to guys masturbating, cutting away to groups of guys masturbating. Guys masturbating each other, penis-to-penis, cumming penises, penises cumming on penises. It was definitely a sausage-fest video. The fact that he was watching penis porn had briefly registered when I first walked in, and under most other circumstances, his choice of porn would have been the primary object of my fascination.

But as fascinating Lucas’s porn choice had been when I first glimpsed it, in the very next split second there had been something even far more fascinating revealing itself right before my eyes as Lucas first whirled around in his chair to face me. And that wasn’t a video, it was a big, hard, naked penis in the flesh! Fascinating first because that package looked so much like my own—like I’ve mentioned, a clone except for size. From his pee slit to his taint, he looked just like me, and I would know. I had many times admired my own package sitting in front of a full-length mirror in my bedroom while I played with my dick. Same colorful head and corona. Same light-skinned, veiny shafts. Same dark line that starts on the lower shaft and runs down the middle of our scrotums. When Lucas had whirled around in his chair, his balls were already pulled tight against his body as they prepared to unload, so my view of them had been obscured by his forearm as he reached between his legs to toy with his hole. But now, I could see that his balls and mine were a matched set like everything else.

Of course, the main reason I was focused on him and not the porn he was watching is simple: Lucas was another human being pleasuring himself sexually in my presence! Sexually aroused and naked in my presence. Sexually aroused to the point of orgasm in my presence. All within just a few feet of me. I could have reached out and touched him. And strangely, I had the urge to do just that! What the fuck? When he had spun around, he was moaning; he looked fucking hot; his dick was hard, horny, and about to blow a load! Gay or not, it made my dick hard. And leaky. And then he actually shot those notable ropes of cum. So much cum. So many spurts. Yeah, that distracted me from the penis porn. Until I remembered it again.

“Dude. You were watching penis porn.” I gestured at his laptop. He turned part way back to his desk and with one of his clean fingertips, gingerly lowered the laptop screen. Then he grabbed a towel from his desk, apparently his handy cumrag. He finally started cleaning his hands and then the rest of him as he turned back toward me, but with no urgency and without trying to cover his exposed package.

“But did you also notice it was not gay porn, bro? You didn’t see any gay sex. It was basically a compilation of money shots.” He continued the conversation as if this were completely normal, him sitting stark naked in front of me with a now mostly hard dick. Our conversation must have been having an effect on him. Or maybe it was just the exhibitionist thrill of being naked in front of me.

Not gay? I thought to myself. Partly true. There were no women in anything I caught a glimpse of, but maybe there were, and I just didn’t see them. Of what little I saw, I had to admit there were no guys taking dick. For the moment, I decided to let him slide on the scenes of mutual masturbation, dick-to-dick action and cumming on each other.

He continued. “It’s just the hotness of male masturbation. Bating and bonding with a brother without any gay shit. Manly, masculine, raw penis pleasure. Just masturbating together.”

“Okay, if you say so, man,” I reply, giving him a skeptical smile. “Is fingering your ass really that good?” I ask out of genuine curiosity, but I try to sound disinterested and maybe a little taunting.

He doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he blushes. “You want to know the truth?”

I nod.

“It’s fucking amazing. You can’t believe how it supercharges your orgasm.”

“You say a girl turned you on to it?” Another question borne of genuine curiosity.

“Yes. I’d tried to get her to let me fuck her in the ass, and she said she’d give her ass up to me, if I gave mine up to her first. She was always pestering me to let her play with my ass after that. I’d swat her hand away, but she never quit trying. And then one time she was giving me head and just as I was about to cum, I felt the pad of her finger strongly massaging my pucker, and that sent me over an edge like I’d never gone over the edge before. I flooded her mouth and had a body-shaking orgasm like I’d never had in my life. After that, I let her play with my hole.”

I pondered what I’d just heard. So my assumption about his virginity and girlfriends was apparently all wrong. He’d been with at least one girl who’d given him head and fingered him on multiple occasions. An interesting girl from the sounds of it. Eventually I wanted to know more about her. But for the moment, that information was enough to make me consider whether I’d been jumping to conclusions. If a girl liked doing it to a guy, and Lucas liked it, but he still likes girls, then maybe ass-fingering didn’t necessarily mean you were gay. And based on what Lucas said—supercharged orgasms?—it even sounded like something worth trying. But when? During a jerk off session after he falls asleep? And then it dawned on me. Maybe the rules have changed. Do we have a little more freedom to jerk off now? I decided to test the waters.

Still worried about sounding gay, I tried not to sound too hopeful. “So after this”—I gesture at him generally— “I guess we don’t have to wait to be alone to masturbate anymore?”

“Or pretend to be asleep for each other,” he says smirking at me. He lets that one sink in. “All those times you masturbated after you thought I fell asleep? I always listened, stroked, and waited to bust my own nut after you blew yours and fell asleep.”

Despite everything that had just transpired, that news still came as something of a shock, though a mild one compared to the shocks I experienced just moments before. So Lucas had been listening to me masturbate every night for most of the past six weeks. But in addition to feeling surprised, I was also aroused by the thought. He was hard and stroking to the sound of me masturbating. My masturbation fueled Lucas’s.

Before I could think of a way to react to this latest, provocative revelation, Lucas looked down at my crotch and then back at my face. I looked down and saw that my cock was fully erect, and what had previously been a half-inch wet spot on my shorts was now massive. And the wispy material of my tented shorts fluttered with each throb of my dick. I looked back at him, but I had no idea what to say.

He understood the helpless expression on my face and spared me the continuing struggle to find words. “Looks like you need to stroke, bro,” he said. “No shame, man. You just saw me drain my tanks. Show me what you’re working with.” Words I could not have imagined him speaking just minutes before. But it was hard to argue with. I did need to drain my balls. The question for me was, Am I really going to do that with him here? Right now?