I followed Jack inside like I was on autopilot. Water dripped from my boxers onto the tile floor in little dark spots. My cock was still rock hard, tenting the wet fabric so obviously there was no hiding it. He did not say a word about it. Just walked straight through the kitchen, towel still slung over one shoulder, naked hairy ass flexing with every step. Drops of pool water ran down the crack between his cheeks and disappeared.
He grabbed two cold beers from the fridge. Popped the caps with his thumb like it was nothing. Handed one to me. Our fingers brushed. His were still cool from the bottle. Mine were shaking.
“Living room,” he said. Voice low. Casual. Like we were about to watch a game.
I nodded. Followed him.
The living room was dim. Curtains half drawn. Big sectional couch facing the TV. Jack dropped onto one end without ceremony. Spread his thick thighs wide. Cock rested heavy against one leg, still half hard from the pool. His hairy balls hung low and full. He took a long pull from the beer. Throat worked. A bead of condensation rolled down the bottle and dripped onto his chest hair.
I hesitated at the edge of the couch. Felt stupid standing there dripping in wet boxers.
He looked up. Blue eyes steady. “Sit, Caleb. You are making me nervous hovering like that.”
I sat. On the opposite end. Legs pressed together. Beer clutched like a lifeline.
Silence stretched for a beat. Then another.
Jack leaned back. One arm draped along the back of the couch. The other rested on his thigh. Fingers inches from his cock. He took another swig. “You still look tense as fuck.”
“I am fine,” I lied.
He snorted. “Bullshit. You have been hard since the garage. I felt it brush me in the water.”
My face burned. I stared at the TV. It was off.
Jack shifted. Thighs spread a little wider. His cock twitched. Thickened visibly. The foreskin pulled back just enough to show the flushed head. “Look. We are both adults. No point pretending.”
I risked a glance. His dick was fully hard now. Thick vein running along the top. Head shiny. Pre-cum already beading at the slit.
He wrapped a big hand around the base. Slow. Casual. Gave it one lazy stroke. “Been thinking about that little whimper you made in the pool. Sounded cute.”
I swallowed. Throat clicked.
Jack kept stroking. Loose grip. Up and down. Eyes on me the whole time. “You ever jerk off with another guy before?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Me neither.” He said it like it was no big deal. “Not really my thing. Usually just handle it solo. Or with a woman. But… fuck. Watching you get worked up all day? Kinda hot.”
He stroked faster. Low grunt escaped his throat. Cock throbbed in his fist.
I could not look away. My own dick ached. Leaking steadily into my boxers.
Jack nodded toward my lap. “You going to join or just watch?”
My hands moved before my brain caught up. I shoved my boxers down. Cock sprang free. Smaller than his. But hard as fuck. Wet at the tip.
Jack’s eyes darkened. “Nice.”
He reached over. Grabbed my beer from my hand. Set both bottles on the coffee table. Then he scooted closer. Thighs touching now. Heat pouring off him.
“Side by side,” he said. Voice rough. “Like bros. No weird shit. Just… relieving some pressure.”
I nodded. Dumbly.
We both started stroking. Slow at first. Matching rhythm. His arm brushed mine every upstroke. Sweat from the garage and pool still clung to his skin. Musk filled the air between us. Beer. Man. Arousal.
Jack groaned low. “Fuck. Feels good to have company.”
I whimpered again. Could not help it.
He glanced over. Smirked. “That sound again. Keep making it.”
I sped up. Fist wet with pre-cum. Eyes locked on his cock. The way it swelled in his grip. The way his heavy balls drew up tight. The way his abs flexed every time he stroked down.
Jack noticed. Of course he noticed. His head tilted slightly. Blue eyes dark and amused. He slowed his own strokes. Let his thick shaft rest heavy in his palm.
“You want to touch it?” he asked. Voice low. Rough around the edges.
I bit my lip. Hard enough to taste the faint copper of blood. My heart slammed so loud I was sure he could hear it. I nodded. Small. Quick. Afraid if I spoke the words would come out wrong.
Jack made a quiet sound in his throat. Something between a grunt and a chuckle. He shifted. Leaned back against the arm of the couch. One big hand rested behind his head. The other let go of his cock completely. It slapped back against his abs with a soft wet sound. Throbbing. Veins standing out thick and proud. The head flushed dark red. Shiny with pre-cum.
“Go on,” he said. “It won’t bite.”
I scooted closer. Thighs pressed to his now. Heat rolled off him in waves. I reached out. Hesitant at first. Fingers trembling. Then I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock.
Jesus.
Thick. So much thicker than mine. My fingers did not meet all the way around. The skin was hot. A fat vein pulsed under my palm. I slid up slowly. Felt every ridge. Every bump. The foreskin pulled back easily. Revealed more of the swollen head. Pre-cum oozed out and coated my thumb. Wet. Salty smelling.
Jack groaned low. Deep in his chest. The sound vibrated through me.
“Feels good, buddy,” he muttered. “Keep going. Nice and slow.”
I did. Up and down. Watching my hand move over him. Mesmerized by how it looked. How it felt. The weight of him. The heat. The way his cock jumped in my grip every time I twisted at the head.
Jack’s breathing changed. Got rougher. He watched me through half closed eyes.
“Grab my balls,” he said suddenly. Voice thick.
I swallowed. Let my other hand drop lower. Cupped his sack. Heavy. Full. Covered in soft dark hair. Warm. I rolled them gently. Felt them tighten in my palm. Jack hissed through his teeth. Hips lifted just a fraction. Pushed his cock deeper into my fist.
“Fuck yeah,” he breathed. “Just like that.”
He looked down at my lap. My cock straining. Leaking steadily. His free hand hovered over it.
“Can I?” he asked. Quiet. Serious.
“Yeah,” I whispered. Voice barely there.
His big hand closed around me. Rough palm. He stroked once. Slow. Firm. I gasped. Bucked into his grip. He chuckled again. Low and dirty.
We found a rhythm fast. Both of us stroking each other. Side by side on the couch. Beer bottles forgotten. Sweat mixing. Musk thick in the air. His hand felt huge on me. Perfect pressure. Perfect speed. Mine on him felt small but he did not seem to mind. He groaned every time I squeezed the head. Every time I thumbed the slit and spread his pre-cum down the shaft.
Jack’s breathing got heavier. Chest hair rising and falling fast. “You close?”
“Yeah,” I gasped.
“Good. Me too.”
He sped up. Hand flying over my cock now. I matched him. Fist dripping with precum and fast on his thick length.
“Fuck,” he growled. “Here it comes.”
His body tensed. Abs locked. Balls drew up tight in my palm. Then he erupted.
Ropes of thick white cum shot from his cock. First one hit his abs hard. Splattered across the ridges. Second landed on his thigh. Hot and sticky. Third and fourth pulsed out slower. Pooling in the dark hair above his navel. More followed. Thick globs coating my fingers. Running down over my knuckles. I kept pumping him through it. Milking every last drop. His cock throbbed hard in my hand. Jumped with each spurt. Low moans spilled from his throat. Deep. Satisfied.
The sight of it. The feel of his hot cum coating my hand. The way his big body shuddered beside me. It pushed me over.
I came hard. Into his fist. My whole body jerked. Cum arced out in thick ropes. Splashed his forearm. His wrist. One shot landed on his chest hair. I moaned. Broken. Desperate. Vision whiting out for a second.
We sat there panting. Cum cooling on our skin. Hands still wrapped around each other. Sticky. Messy. Perfect.
Jack chuckled breathlessly. “Well. That was new.”
“Yeah,” I managed. Voice wrecked.
He let go first. Slow. Reluctant. Then he grabbed the towel from the floor. Wiped his hand. Then his abs. Casual. Like he jerked off on the couch every afternoon. He wiped the cum from my hand too. Gentle. Almost tender. Then he stood.
Naked again. Cock softening but still heavy. Reminiscent of dry cum streaked across his abs and thigh. He looked down at me. Smirk soft now. Eyes warm.
“It is nice having you around here, Caleb,” he said quietly. “Real nice. We should do this again. Soon.”
He turned. Walked toward the stairs. Ass flexing. Broad back disappearing up the steps.
I sat frozen for a second. Then panic hit.
Travis could come home any minute.
I yanked my boxers up fast. Cum smeared inside the fabric. Sticky against my skin. I grabbed the towel. Wiped my stomach. My thighs. My hands. Heart racing. What if Travis walked in right now? What if he saw me sitting here naked. Covered in his dad’s cum. Jerking off with him like it was nothing.
I bolted to the guest room. Shut the door. Locked it. Leaned against it breathing hard.
A while later, downstairs the front door opened.
Travis’s voice called out. “I am back! You two survive without me?”
I heard Jack answer from upstairs. Calm. Normal. “All good, son. Just chilling.”
I slid down the door. Sat on the floor. Cock twitching again already.
Waiting to do it again as Jack suggested.
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