After an intense gym session left the air between us electric, my roommate Zack asked me to shoot some nude photos of him to help entice girls into hooking up. Still riding the high from our charged workout and the steamy shower that followed, he stripped down right there in our living room, first peeling off his shirt and sweatpants until he stood in tight blue briefs that left little to the imagination, then sliding those off completely to reveal his strong, relaxed body under my simple lighting setup.
I tried to stay focused behind the camera, directing him through poses while battling the rush of heat in my chest as I captured every detail: his soft cock hanging full and heavy, the perfect curve of his sculpted ass, the easy play of muscle across his warm skin. He grew more at ease with each shot, teasing lightly and moving with natural confidence until he stepped close to review the images, his bare thigh brushing my arm. With a slow, wicked grin and his voice dropping low against my ear, he said maybe we needed to fix the fact that he was still soft in the photos, leaving the room thick with tension and my heart slamming as the unspoken question hung between us.
“So maybe we need to fix that.”
I kept pretending that the thought of my naked roommate was not a big deal. Zack was being so casual flopping around his cock, like he hadn’t just shattered every boundary I thought this shoot had. He was already back in full relaxed mode, stretching his arms over his head, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for another set at the gym.
Meanwhile I was standing there with a camera and a pulse that refused to calm down.
Zack glanced around the room. “Let’s go to the bedroom and fix this problem.”
He said it with this lazy confidence, like he wasn’t inviting me deeper into something neither of us had named yet. He just stood and walked toward the hallway. I followed because of course I did.
The moment I stepped into his room, Zack dropped onto the mattress and leaned back on his elbows. Legs open. Relaxed. His cock about six inches soft but honestly so pretty it knocked the breath right out of me.
“Alright camera guy. You want angles. I give you angles.”
He smirked. A slow one. The kind that made my stomach tilt.
I lifted the camera but it was pointless. My eyes kept dragging back to his body no matter how much I tried to act professional.
Zack reached down and wrapped a hand around his dick, stroking it slowly. Not sexy slow, not performative slow. Just lazy. Casual. Like he was trying to get himself hard.
“This is already funny,” he said after a minute, chuckling under his breath. “If I look tired that is because I kinda am. I get hard fast usually. Right now I am like half alive.”
I almost choked on my own breath watching his hand move around his dick. He got a little harder, then softened again. Semi. Strong but not rising the way I knew it could.
He kept stroking, then let go with a shrug. “Man. This is gonna take a minute. I am still kinda tired from the gym.”
I was trying not to stare but my body was straight up betraying me. My jeans were getting painfully tight because of how hard I was from watching my hot roommate stroke his dick. Every time I shifted the camera, I prayed Zack didn’t see how bad it was.
He definitely saw.
He glanced once. Quick. Then again. A little smirk but he didn’t comment. Just shook his head and laughed quietly at himself.
“It is so annoying. Usually I get hard so fast. Today it is like my body is on airplane mode.”
I felt heat crawl all the way up my neck. My heart kept stuttering like it was trying to warn me about something. Zack’s hand moved again and something in me just… gave up. I let myself watch. Really watch. The way his thigh tightened every time he stroked. The way his belly flexed. The way his lips parted on a soft breath.
Zack noticed. Still didn’t say anything.
Then he looked up at me. “You wanna sit for a sec? Stop hovering with that camera. Come here.. It might take a little while before I am fully hard”
I moved before my brain caught up. Sat on the edge of the bed. Too close. Not close enough.
Zack adjusted himself, spreading his legs wider. His knee brushed my thigh. He stroked again and I swear the room tilted.
Still only semi.
He let out this dramatic sigh that made me laugh even though I felt like I might faint.
Then he said it.
“Man. Do you wanna maybe help me?.”
My whole body froze. Every muscle. Every thought.
Zack looked at me with raised eyebrows like he’d just asked me to pass him a dumbbell, not stroke his cock.
“It will make your job easier. You want a hard dick for the photos. I need some help getting a hard dick. Teamwork, right?”
My voice barely worked. “Are you sure? This is not weird?”
Zack waved it off, relaxed as ever. “Nah. I trust you. It is fine. I mean unless it is weird for you.”
My throat tightened. I didn’t trust my voice, so I just nodded.
“If it helps with the shoot, then yeah. Sure.”
I shifted closer. My hand hovered there, inches from his cock. My fingers were shaking. His breathing changed, softening around the edges.
Zack gave the smallest nod.
I wrapped my fingers around him.
Zack exhaled.
The sound went straight through me. Warm. Heavy. Real. His cock twitched in my hand, not fully hard, more like a slow pulse waking up. I could feel the heat of him spreading into my palm, thickening just a little as I stroked.
I kept my movements careful. Slow. I didn’t want him to know how much I was enjoying it. But Zack didn’t seem to mind it at all. He leaned back on his elbows, watching the way my hand moved around his cock with this loose, satisfied calm.
“Yeah,” he murmured, almost to himself. “That already feels so much better.”
I swallowed hard. My whole body felt wired, my heartbeat way too loud. The room felt smaller. Closer. Every breath tightened the space between us.
Zack’s cock grew to a firmer semi, not hard enough to stand fully but definitely more than before. It rose in my hand then softened a little, like his body couldn’t decide which direction to go.
He looked down at it and laughed. A warm, embarrassed sound that made him look strangely sweet. “Man. You see this. It is like my body is drunk. Getting there. Losing it. Getting there again. I swear this is not normal.”
“It’s fine,” I said softly, my voice barely there. “You are doing great.”
That made him laugh harder. He tilted his head back and let the sound fill the room. “Doing great. Bro, I look like a guy who forgot how to use his own dick.”
I kept stroking, trying not to react every time he twitched in my hand. My thighs were pressed tight together because if I shifted even a little he would see exactly how hard I was.
Zack lifted his head again and looked right at my face.
He watched me for a moment, then let his eyes drop back to my hand stroking his cock. He bit the inside of his cheek like he was trying to hide a smile.
That smile told me he liked the attention more than he wanted to admit.
His cock thickened again, rising into my grip. A little more this time.
Then softening. Again.
He groaned dramatically. “Man. This is so stupid. It is like my dick is buffering.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. It came out breathy and nervous but real. Zack smirked like he’d been trying to make me laugh on purpose.
He shifted his hips, adjusting his angle. The movement slid him deeper into my hand and both of us inhaled at the same time.
A quiet shiver ran through him.
He looked down, watching the way his skin slid under my fingers. “You are doing good. I feel it working. Just needs a bit more.”
I nodded, throat dry.
Zack breathed in through his nose, slow and steady. His abs tightened slightly. His chest lifted. His cock pushed against my palm again with more strength.
Then he paused.
“You got any lube?” he asked, casual like he was asking for a bottle of water.
My hand froze. “No. Sorry. I don’t have any.”
Zack sighed. Not annoyed, just thoughtful. “Shit. It is fine. I wanted some gliding action. Wetness gets me hard in no time.”
My mouth went dry.
My hand kept stroking, but my brain was spinning.
“I could try something else,” I said quietly, unsure if I should even be offering. “If you want.”
Zack glanced at me. His eyes dragged from my face to my hand to my lips, then back again. His legs spread a little wider as he settled into the pillows behind him.
He raised an eyebrow, amused and curious.
“So. Do I like. Idk. Spit on it or something.”
The room went completely still.
Zack’s eyes flickered.
Then he smiled.
Zack lay there on the bed like he belonged in that exact moment, legs open, his six inch soft cock resting lazy against his thigh, still a little hard from the last stroke I had given him. The room felt too quiet. Too warm. Too full of something I had no business touching. Every breath I took seemed amplified in the charged air between us. His eyes flicked to mine with that calm, confident look that always made me feel like he already knew what I was thinking before I even thought it.
“Yeah. Spit works,” he said, as casual as if he were talking about his protein shake. “I use it all the time.”
My throat tightened. I could not stop staring. The way his arm draped behind his head, the faint trail of hair running from his navel downward, the soft curve of his cock, thick even while soft. Every detail burned into my mind. I whispered, “Ok,” and leaned in. Every nerve in my body screamed at me not to, but my curiosity and arousal overpowered any hesitation.
It felt like crossing an invisible line. My hand shook as I brought it to my mouth, swallowing hard before letting saliva gather. I spat slowly into my palm. The sound of wetness landing echoed far too loudly in the quiet room. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop a whimper from escaping.
Zack’s eyes followed every movement. First to my hand, then to his own cock, then back to my lips. His breath hitched ever so slightly. The tension wrapped around me like heat. My fingers hesitated for a moment before I reached forward, touching him. The first slide of spit along his shaft sent shivers up my spine.
He was soft but heavy in a way that made my pulse race. My hand wrapped carefully around him. Every inch of him was warm, wet, and alive under my touch. His cock responded gradually, thickening beneath my palm, pulsing slightly, teasing me with its weight.
Zack made a quiet sound in his throat, a low hum, and lifted his hips subtly, just enough to encourage me. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Just like that.”
I tried to steady my breathing as my hand moved with more confidence. The wetness of spit made the motion effortless. His shaft was heavier now, veins pronounced, head glistening pink. His tip pulsed in sync with his shallow breaths. Every time my fingers brushed him, my chest tightened and my cock throbbed painfully inside my pants.
“You are pretty good at this for a camera guy,” he murmured, smirking faintly. I tried to laugh, but it came out shaky, breathless.
He kept his gaze locked on me, teasing and watchful. “Bet you did not expect this gig when you moved in.”
No, I definitely had not. I had never imagined this. I could feel heat pooling low, fingers gripping him with more intent than I knew I had. The jokes faded, his voice dropping lower, rougher, softer in a way that made my own breath hitch.
“Damn. That feels nice.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, voice uneven now. “Right there. Keep that.”
His hips shifted subtly under my hand, giving me a better angle, pressing against my palm. His cock swelled slightly more..perhaps an inch more, heavier, responsive, sensitive to the lightest movement of my hand. The weight and warmth of him made my entire body pulse, and my own cock throbbed uncontrollably. I pressed my thighs closer to the bedframe, hoping he would not notice the bulge that now strained against my jeans.
Zack’s eyes flicked down once, then another time. Pretending he did not notice, but he had. He exhaled slowly, a tiny, almost inaudible laugh escaping his lips.
“You are really into helping, huh.”
I froze. Could not respond. Could not even breathe properly. The intensity in the room made every nerve scream.
Before I could process it, he added, quietly, “Spit more.”
My pulse stumbled. I swallowed and leaned closer, hovering over him, inhaling the clean, warm scent of his skin, the faint trace of shower soap still clinging to him. My lips brushed against the shaft as I puckered, trying not to let my nervousness show. I released a thin string of spit from my mouth, letting it fall directly on his cock, watching it glisten on the crown.
Zack inhaled sharply, a subtle shiver running through him. “Ah fuck. Yeah. Like that.”
I spread it along his tip and shaft with tentative fingers. My hand slid effortlessly over the slick surface, gliding and dragging the moisture down. Each stroke drew a small, involuntary sound from Zack, almost a moan, almost a laugh. His hips nudged upward, legs flexing slightly. He was encouraging me without words, letting the tension mount.
“Keep going,” he whispered, breath ragged. “That is good. Just like that.”
His cock was heavier, warmer, thicker now. The soft quality still lingered, but it responded to my touch with pulsing sensitivity. Every flick of my fingers made him twitch under my hand. My own body burned with desire, my cock painfully straining as I struggled to stay in control.
Zack tilted his hips, subtly adjusting himself under my touch, and exhaled. “Yeah. Right there. Perfect.” His hands moved slightly, gripping the sheets. A bead of precum appeared at the tip, glistening in the warm light. He nodded toward it. “That. That means it is working.”
My heart hammered in my chest. I had never done anything like this with a man, yet every nerve ending screamed at me. I tried to hide the obvious bulge straining in my pants, shifting subtly, but Zack’s eyes caught it for a beat longer than necessary. He smirked faintly, not judging, almost amused by my obvious arousal.
I swallowed, trying to regain composure. My fingers continued stroking him, covered with spit and precum. Every slide made his cock heavier, warmer, responsive. His hips lifted occasionally, brushing against my hand as he adjusted, every movement choreographed with natural ease. He spread his legs a little wider for better access, body softening against the bed, breathing shallow and fast.
He groaned quietly, chest rising and falling quickly, cock twitching more with every pass of my hand. Still, he did not reach full hardness, just a thick, pulsing semi that made me ache to take him further.
“Man,” he said, frustrated. “If I could just get rock hard. The nudes would be fucking insane.” His eyes flickered toward mine, full of intention.
I whispered, almost without thinking, “What else can I do?”
Zack’s gaze held mine, steady, commanding yet calm. “I have an idea,” he said quietly. “But you have to tell me if you are comfortable.”
My stomach dropped. I nodded, breath uneven. “What is it?”
He sat up slightly, cock still slick and swollen between us. “I would get hard instantly if there is more contact. Physical contact.”
My pulse hammered against my ribs. He continued, voice low, deliberate, casual as if giving me advice about his workout. “Pressure helps. Warmth helps. Skin helps. Stuff like that.”
I swallowed hard, breath hitching. My fingers stilled on him for a second, heart racing, aware of every beat, every movement. “What kind of contact?” I whispered.
Zack leaned back, voice dropping even lower, quieter, dangerous. “Honestly. This would be so much easier if you just put your mouth on it.”
The words lingered in the room, thick and impossible. My breath hitched, chest tightening, stomach knotting. I felt every pulse of his semi-hard cock under my palm responding to the mere thought of what he had just suggested. My hand trembled, almost letting go, but I stayed. Every inch of him drew my gaze, every subtle shiver under my touch, the bead of precum catching the light like a promise.
He shifted slightly on the bed, adjusting himself toward me, hips brushing against my knees, teasing and testing, letting me feel the weight of him pressing toward my fingers. Every movement was deliberate, a gentle instruction, and my arousal surged painfully.
My lips tingled at the thought of leaning closer, but I forced my focus on his cock again, watching the glisten, feeling the heat and weight of him under my fingers. Every inch pulsed, twitching in response to my careful strokes. I could smell him, the faint trace of soap mixing with something raw and animalistic, and my own cock ached.
The tension thickened further as Zack’s voice softened again. “You do not have to. Only if you are okay. But honestly, I would get hard instantly.”
I swallowed, gulping down the lump in my throat, heart pounding. Every nerve ending ached. I kept my hand moving, covered with spit, along the thickening shaft, my breath hitting the tip of him with each pass, imagining what it would feel like, tasting the anticipation, feeling every pulse, every twitch, every weight of his body against the bed.
The room seemed to shrink around us. Each sound, each movement, each quiet exhale became louder, closer, sharper. My chest rose and fell quickly, throat tight, hands trembling, my cock aching as I hovered over him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
Zack’s eyes held mine, half-lidded, full of desire, teasing, commanding. The semi-hard pulse in his cock begged for more contact. I swallowed, trapped between fear and desire, knowing the next move could tip everything into something we both wanted, but had never dared.
The air was electric, the tension unbearable, and every instinct screamed that nothing would ever feel this intense again unless I crossed the next line.
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