I have to be honest: the next morning was a bit blurry.
I slipped into the lecture hall a few minutes early, dropped my bag beside my seat, and opened my laptop to take notes. This would be my new routine from now on. With those old slides loading on the screen, students chatting all around and the professor barely asking us any questions, doing his own stand-up with a bored face.
None of it really stuck.
Because every time my mind drifted (which was often), it drifted straight back to the apartment and to the three other jocks.
To the careless, effortless way Julien was hypnotizing me with his cock flopping around, the way Greg's waist was bucking against my back in the kitchen, or how Adrien's bulge was already tenting his boxers while soft.
I tried to focus on the professor’s voice. But most of the time, my efforts were lasting only a couple of minutes. A sentence about methodology dissolved halfway through because suddenly I was remembering Julien’s leaking cock. The taste.
Around 11 p.m, my phone buzzed softly against the desk.
I ignored it the first couple minutes, still thiking about my roommates, then checked. It was a notification from our share conversation, named "Bande à part" on Whats App. The first message since I had joined:
Julien: “Pool after class today? You coming Steph?”
My nickname on the conversation had been changed to Steph by Julien.
Fuck... Swimming with him, again?
5 minutes later:
Julien: “Don’t pretend you didn’t see this 👀”
I stared at the screen longer than necessary.
Swimming.
Which meant locker rooms!
Which meant his cock in my mouth, maybe?
Part of me immediately lit up at the idea.
Another part tightened.
Bad idea, I thought. Very bad idea.
I could already picture it: Julien laughing, water dripping down his pecs and cock, his smile making me go on my knees.
Was I ready for that?
My thumb hovered over the keyboard.
I typed:
“Yeah maybe”
Deleted it.
The lecture kept going. Slides changed. My phone felt heavy in my hand, like the answer mattered more than it should.
Finally, I exhaled and typed:
“Finishing late today. Don’t wait for me. I’ll come next time.”
I stared at the message for a second.
Then hit send.
Almost immediately:
Julien: “Lame.”
I quickly saw that Adrien had upvoted Julien's response.
I couldn’t help smiling despite myself.
I locked the phone and set it down, trying to refocus on the lecture. My chest felt lighter… and a little disappointed at the same time.
Next time.
Yeah.
Next time.
I couldn't take it anymore.
It must have been 7pm, I was hanging around the library hoping to think about something other than my attempts at sucking.
I pulled out my phone, thumbs hovering over Julien's contact.
My heart hammered as I typed:
"Hey man..."
I had to gather all my courage to actually write the next part of the message:
"were you serious about letting me suck you again?"
I hit send before I could chicken out, throwing the phone away to avoid deleting the message before he could see it.
Minutes ticked by, my cock twitching in my jeans just from the memory. I had this weird impression that every person around was judging me.
Finally, his reply buzzed:
"Knew you liked it."
Heat flooded my face, even alone among the bookshelves.
I typed back fast:
"Just... nobody has to know, right? It's our thing."
His response came quick:
"Come to my room around 10. Door will be open."
My stomach flipped.
Classes be damned: I grabbed my bag and bolted back to the apartment, the walk feeling endless, my mind racing with what-ifs.
What if he was joking? What if I choked again?
But the pull was too strong, that first-time curiosity mixed with the raw hunger his body stirred in me.
When I finally got back to the apartment, the smell of food hit me before I even closed the door.
Adrien was already at the living-room table, half-buried in his laptop, wearing nothing but a pair of back boxer shorts and a loose white shirt, completely open to his pecs. He was eating mechanically, eyes glued to whatever spreadsheet or design he was wrestling with, fork moving from plate to mouth without him even looking.
Julien, meanwhile, was doing laps between the fridge and the counter in his own underwear, eating standing up like a guy who had forgotten chairs existed. He glanced at me with an easy grin.
“Yo Steph. You survived?”
“Barely,” I muttered, dropping my bag.
I grabbed something simple to eat and settled at the low table in front of the TV, suddenly very aware that I was the only one fully dressed. I turned something random on just to have somewhere to look that wasn’t… them.
We talked a little, casually.
Greg might come later. Apparently he had a match, or practice, or both (I didn’t fully catch). Adrien commented without looking up, Julien complained about how late Greg always ate afterward, and I nodded along, chewing slower than usual, trying to look absorbed in the screen.
Julien stretching to reach the top shelf, his low-hanging dick about to escape from his boxers, Adrien shifting in his chair, revealing even more of his hairy chest.
At some point, I pulled my phone out and typed to Julien privately:
“Hey… could we do it now?”
I didn’t dare look up immediately.
My phone buzzed almost at once.
Across the room, Julien’s phone lit up in his hand. He read, then lifted his eyes to me with the tiniest smirk and an exaggerated wink that made my stomach flip.
He typed back:
“Dude wtf. Just ask me directly."
"Adrien's there."
I heard Julien's laugh, he was mocking me:
"Don't be a pussy dude, who fucking cares.”
Then, as if nothing had happened, he rinsed his plate, stretched once more, and disappeared into his bedroom, door closing softly behind him.
And just like that, the apartment felt different.
I stayed exactly where I was.
Adrien was still there. Still working. Still occasionally typing, scrolling, eating. Didn't seem like a threat and yet, the idea of standing up, walking past him, and knocking on Julien’s door suddenly felt impossible.
Relax, I told myself.
I could always come up with something.
I watched ten more minutes of something I couldn’t have summarized if my life depended on it.
Then five more.
My phone buzzed again. I was Julien:
“Chickening out?”
I swallowed, thumbs hovering before answering:
“Adrien’s still around…”
A pause.
Then:
“Yeah? And?”
I hesitated, feeling stupid even typing it:
“…I don’t want him to see me going into your room. He might… you know. Think stuff.”
Three little dots appeared immediately.
“Steph.”
“Grow some balls."
"And join me.”
I stared at the screen, heart thumping a little faster than it should for something so simple.
"That mouth."
"Would feel so good right now."
"Cock's rock hard."
Shiiit.
From the living room, Adrien clicked his tongue at his computer and muttered something about a deadline, completely absorbed in his own world.
I needed it.
I set my phone down on my knee… and tried to gather the courage to stand. Adrien didn't even look at me while I was walking towards Julien's room. I tried to act as nonchalant as possible.
I'm about to have a cock in my mouth.
Again.
I want this.
I peeked in the bedroom: a faint smell of chlorine clung to everything, coming from the pile of half-dry towels hanging over the back of a chair, next to a swim bag that looked permanently packed. One wall was basically a shrine to water: medals hanging from mismatched hooks, a couple of race bibs taped crookedly, and a photo of him mid-dive.
A guitar rested against the desk, another one lay on the bed under a hoodie like it had just been casually abandoned mid-riff, and a small amp sat on the floor tangled in cables. The desk itself was covered in sheet music, random picks, and a coffee mug full of pens…
Above it, postcards and photos were pinned everywhere: beaches, city skylines, group selfies with people I’d never seen, Julien always in the middle, grinning like he’d known them forever. There were also a ton of boarding passes, I wasn't close enough to read what country he had visited by Julien clearly had spent lots of time traveling all over the world!
The swimmer was waiting for me, sprawled naked on his bed. His muscly frame stretched out, abs rippling as he scrolled his phone, one arm behind his head. This looked like a magazine cover honestly.
His cock lay soft and heavy across his thigh, uncut foreskin covering half the head, balls sagging low and smooth-shaved, shiny in the low light. Exhibitionist as ever, he didn't even flinch when he spotted me, just grinned lazy and wide.
"Knew you'd show up," he said, voice chill, setting his phone on the nightstand with a smirk. "Come on in, bro. Lock the door if you're paranoid."
I did, hands shaking as I clicked it shut, the sound echoing like a final decision. Then, I sat on the edge of the bed, silent. My eyes landed on the mismatched socks draped over the radiator, half-finished packs of cookies, and a sticky note on the desk with “Laundry, strings, passport??”.
He spread his thick legs wider to let me have a better access, his dick and balls right there, inviting me in.
"Get on you elbows." Julien ordered simple, his smile turning hungry as he watched me slide down. "Have fun with it. No rush... explore like you want, okay?"
I settled between his thighs like he told me, the mattress dipping under me, his musky scent hitting hard immediately. His soft shaft twitched as I leaned in.
Fuck, this was really happening again?
Heart pounding, I wrapped my lips around the uncut head, foreskin sliding back easy as I sucked gentle, the warm skin filling my mouth.
"Mmm" His cock responded fast, thickening against my tongue, the head engorging and stretching my lips wider.
Precum oozed out salty and thick, coating my palate as I swirled my tongue over the helmet, collecting every drop. I felt so ashamed, cheeks burning as I bobbed shallow, sucking just the helmet while his dick hardened fully in my mouth. I was waiting for him to guide me honestly.
He was around seven inches now, veiny and rigid, pulsing hot. The taboo of all that was clearly hitting my brain, as my own cock was growing against the sheets.
This muscly jock letting me worship him like this, exposed and casual—it was raw, urgent, my first real dive into this male heat.
"You dreamed about my cock last night?" Julien teased, one of his head going right on the top of my head, not pushing though.
Fuck...
"Bet you did. Jerked off thinking about sucking it, huh?"
How did he know?
"Tastes even better now, doesn't it?
I moaned around him, the vibration making him hiss, shame twisting with pleasure as I nodded slight, too full to speak.
Yeah, I'd dreamt of it, of his balls in my hand, his precum dripping on my tongue.
I sucked harder on the head, lapping the slit for more precum, bitter and strong, swallowing it down as his shaft flexed, growing slicker.
"Good job Steph." he commented, reassuring, his free hand stroking his own thigh. "Suck the head nice, yeah... You're a natural." His words eased the panic inside of my head, that bro vibe making it feel almost normal.
I worked my lips tighter, hollowing my cheeks, the engorged helmet bumping the roof of my mouth, precum dripping steady now.
"Alright sucker," Julien grunted, hand guiding my head firmer, his balls tightening up against his body. "Time to go deeper than just the head. Take more of my dick. Swallow it down."
Sucker?
I hesitated for a second, my lips stretched around the thick head of Julien's cock. But his hand on my head urged me forward, firm but not rough, and I wrapped my fingers around the base of his shaft, just in case he wanted to go super deep. I was clearly not ready for that much cock right now!
Heart racing, I opened wider and pushed down, swallowing inch by inch, the fleshy warmth filling my mouth until I had about 4 or 5 inches buried. I preferred to do it slow for now. I held it there, breathing through my nose, the chlorine tang from his swim practice was lingering on his flesh.
I was about to withdraw when something echoed through the wall behind his bed: a door slamming somewhere in the apartment, followed by muffled voices… and then unmistakable giggling.
Julien's hand was firmly placed on my head, preventing me from moving.
“…Damn” he said. “Sounds like Greg didn’t come home alone.”
Right on cue, the hallway filled with hurried footsteps, a burst of laughter, and the unmistakable sound of someone bumping into the wall, with a dull thud.
I froze, Julien's cock halfway in me.
“Yep. That must be Sarah. Showtime.”
Another bang followed, another one. Regular bands followed by girly moans and grunts. Sometimes, a string of muffled noises and a deep grunt from the other side.
Julien actually laughed, his cock vibrating in my mouth:
“Oh wow,” he whispered. “He’s going rough tonight.”
Jeez, that guy was so loud everyone in the building would hear him plowing that poor girl.
“Steph,” he added casually, “you stopped. Don’t get distracted.”
I obeyed, starting to bob on his cock slowly. He exhaled sharply. I tried to focus on the sucking, like it was a new course I needed to major this year.
“Yesss. That’s the stuff.” The swimmer moaned. "No reason he's the only one having fun here."
Regular thumps were hitting the wall, louder, followed by a series of rhythmic grunts from Greg that sounded so raw and over-the-top it almost didn’t seem human.
“Dude sounds like he’s wrestling a bear,” he said.
Guess he's the bear.
I couldn’t help it, a nervous laugh escaped me too.
"Hey, don't keep those hands still like that," Julien said, voice low and commanding, glancing down at me with that bro smirk. "Jerk the base, slowly. Yeah, like that, slut."
The word hit me.
SLUT.
No one had ever called me that, and I never thought about using it myself, not even in my wildest fantasies. Shock froze me for a beat, my mouth full of his twitching dick, but I didn't pull off. Instead, heat rushed to my face, his cock flexing against my tongue and making me hungry for more.
From the other side came another muffled giggle from the girl, then Greg again, some unintelligible, caveman-like grunt, and a bang that made the headboard lightly tap the wall behind Julien’s head.
Julien looked up at the ceiling, grinning.
“I swear,” he said, “if the wall collapses, you’re finishing me in the living room.”
Fuck no... that's just not happening bro.
"Find the good rhythm," he grunted, watching me work, his hand still loose in my hair. "Sync your hand with your mouth. Go deeper on my dick like you're stroking yourself."
I kept working, trying to please him, but I could feel my services were far form his usual standards. I tried syncing the strokes: hand pumping the base of his cock, mouth sliding down his shaft in time, lips dragging wet over the veins. Over 5 inches in now, the head nudging my throat, making my eyes water.
“Seriously though,” Julien added, voice softer, satisfied, “you're a quick learner Steph. Might start booking you after every pool session.”
Another thud. Another ridiculous noise.
Julien chuckled again, closing his eyes.
“See? Could be worse,” he murmured. “At least we’re the quiet, respectable ones.”
A few minutes passed, I could feel his cock had reached it's full girth and length. It was truly an amazing dick, mine was nothing compared to that monster!
Julien's fingers tightened suddenly in my hair, grabbing my head firm, his abs flexing as he shifted:
"Alright, enough playing, slut. Let me do the work now."
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