Looking for a room, I had already started to doubt I’d find anything decent. Either the price was insane, or the place just had nothing inviting about it. Until I came across an ad: “Room for rent, downtown, large living room, great roommate.” I called right away. The voice on the other end was low, calm, slightly amused. Kyle.
“You can move in right away,” he said.
Jake, my college buddy, stopped me before I got into the Uber.
“Really? To him?”
“What about him?” I asked, surprised by his tone.
“My friend used to live with him. He didn’t last even a month. Kyle walks around the apartment naked, he can get into the shower with you, and just thinking about what else he might do that I don’t know about… seriously, it’s no joke. Think about it.”
I clenched my fingers around my bag. Maybe Jake was exaggerating. Maybe Kyle just had different boundaries. Or maybe...
I didn't say it out loud, but part of me wanted to find out.
What it's like to live with someone like that.
The Uber pulled up. The building was new, with a balcony on the top floor and a bright staircase. It smelled like a fresh start.
The door opened after a few seconds.
And then I saw him.
Kyle.
In a towel. On his hips. He could barely hold it up. The bulge was so absurdly obvious that I had to fight to keep my eyes from wandering down.
“Matt?” he asked with that typical confident smile of a guy from the gym. “Come on in. I hope you like... space.” He paused for a moment in the doorway, looked at me with that twinkle in his eye. “It's never boring with me. You'll see, it'll be interesting.”
I walked past him, trying to look only at his face. But I glanced anyway. The bulge was huge.
“It's cool that you're moving in,” he added. “I hope you're not tense. I like to be myself here.”
“Sure,” I said, though I didn't know if I was trying to calm myself down or if I was lying.
Because even then, I could feel that his “being himself” wasn’t something I was ready for.
I entered the apartment, and he walked ahead of me with a relaxed stride. The towel bounced with every movement of his hips. And with every bounce, it became harder and harder not to look. That bulge... it moved like a separate being. Heavy, alive. I was mesmerized.
“Coffee? Tea? Water?” he asked over his shoulder, as if we had been living together for months.
“Water will be fine,” I replied too quickly.
He stood by the refrigerator, reached for a bottle, and unscrewed the cap. He did it with one hand, still holding the towel with the other. Or maybe he was just pretending, because it looked like the fabric was about to slip off at any moment.
As he drank, a drop of water ran from his mouth, down his chest, across his stomach, and under the towel. It stopped right at the edge of the fabric and his skin. I swallowed.
“Do you work anywhere?” he asked, putting the bottle down.
“At a cafe, Brew&Bean, on the corner of Main. For three months. You?”
“TitanGym. Reception. And sometimes I do personal training.”
Of course. Of course Kyle works at a gym. If he said he was an underwear model, I would believe him too.
He suddenly turned toward me and leaned against the table. The towel shifted. It slid down an inch. Maybe two. Enough that I saw too much. It wasn't tight, nor was it completely loose. It was just there. Huge. Heavy. And impossible to miss.
“I hope you don't have a problem with... my lifestyle,” he said in his carefree tone.
“No, it's cool,” I replied. But my body was saying something else. My fingers were slightly clenched, my neck was tense, and I felt a familiar warmth in my stomach. The kind that has nothing to do with tea or coffee.
Kyle stretched and crossed his arms behind his neck. His abdominal muscles tensed like a living sculpture. His biceps looked like they were about to tear through his skin. And again, the towel moved.
Don't look, Matt. Don't look.
But I was already looking.
And he knew it.
It was late afternoon, I had unpacked some of my things and went down to the kitchen for some water. My head was throbbing from the excess of stimuli. I needed a drink. To relax. To take a break from his body, from that bulge, from myself.
But as soon as I walked in...
Kyle was already there. And this time, without a towel.
He had his back to me. Naked. Completely.
Leaning slightly over the kettle, as if he was looking for something, or just... waiting for me to come in.
His back was stretched, smooth, tense. Every muscle was working under his skin. His buttocks were perfect, hard, firm, slightly tanned. Symmetrical, as if made to order.
He could be a model from behind. Or from the front. Or just naked, anywhere.
I stood in the doorway, trying to look away, but my body froze.
“Everything okay?” he asked, as if he had only just noticed my presence.
“Yeah...” I managed to say, my voice uncertain.
He straightened up slowly. And then he turned around.
Full front. Without warning. Completely naked.
His cock... was huge. Long, thick, sloping slightly downward with its natural weight. The head was darker, glistening with body heat, slightly exposed. The veins on the shaft were distinct, pulsing. His testicles hung low, perfectly full, as if ready for action.
“I hope you don't mind nudity,” he said casually. “I've always lived like this. At home, I'm just myself.”
“No, it's okay,” I lied calmly.
Because it was a lie. It bothered me. Because it made something inside me tremble.
And that was the first boundary I crossed. Without protest. And with a clear... effect in my pants.
And Kyle just poured water into a cup as if it were the most normal scene in the world.
But I could feel him smiling. Maybe not with his mouth. But with his body. In this cheeky, naked-obvious version of himself.
As if he had just won a small round, and I didn't even know I was playing.
I needed a moment alone. To cool down.
I went to take a shower.
The water was rushing, running down my neck, back, chest. I closed my eyes. Finally, a moment alone. I needed it, the breath, the silence, the cool wall under my hand. Kyle was intense. Too intense.
And then the door opened.
“Yo, just gonna quickly rinse off the sweat,” his voice said, completely casually. As if we were at the gym.
I froze. I was standing naked under the water when he came in.
Kyle didn't wait for an invitation. He came in without a word and stood next to me under the stream. Naked. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.
He stood right behind me.
Literally a few inches away.
I was breathing through my nose, shallowly, as if I was afraid to move. I could feel his body, hot, wet, confident. I could smell the soap, the sweat, his skin. We were naked. Both of us. In the same space, without any barriers.
Kyle reached for the gel that was on the shelf above me. He made the movement slowly, as if by accident his arm brushed my back. I sucked in air through my teeth.
And then I felt him.
The tip of his cock. Warm. Heavy. He moved it across my ass. Once. And then again. Gently, as if in passing, but clearly.
I froze.
He didn't pull back.
“Oops. Sorry,” he said quietly. Seemingly normal. But there was something in his voice that I couldn't name. Calm? Provocation?
I didn't answer. I couldn't. My body was tense as a string. And my cock started to harden.
Kyle reached for something on the shelf again, and his hips brushed my buttocks once more. He did it as if by accident. But we both knew that nothing here was accidental.
This was no joke.
It was the first touch. The first test.
And I... I let him do it.
In the evening, I sat in the living room, on the couch, in a T-shirt and sweatpants.
I had my phone in my hand, but I wasn't reading anything. My fingers slid across the screen aimlessly.
My head was elsewhere.
All day I tried not to think about what happened in the shower.
But I could still feel it, that touch. Heavy. Conscious.
His cock on my skin.
The door to the room opened. Kyle walked in casually. As usual, completely naked. No shame.
He sat down at the end of the couch, beer in one hand, legs spread wide. His cock... already semi-hard. Long, heavy, lying on his thigh, and he made no attempt to hide it.
I breathed through my nose. Slowly. I couldn't take my eyes off him.
And then, as if casually, he put his hand on his stomach. He moved it lower.
He grabbed his cock.
And he started to move.
Gently. Lazy. He stroked it with his thumb, massaged the tip. He looked somewhere ahead, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. But his movements were too confident, too rhythmic. Too conscious.
Pre-cum glistened on the tip. Kyle spread it with his finger, pulling the skin down. When he lifted his hand, a slick thread stretched between his finger and the head.
I felt my body react. My sweatpants getting tight. My cock starting to throb under the fabric.
“How was your first day?” he asked calmly, without stopping his movements.
“A little... interesting,” I replied, looking at his hand. At the pace. At the wet, taut skin.
I couldn't sit still any longer. His every movement drove me crazy. I got up to escape to the bathroom and relieve myself, but then...
“Where are you going?” he asked with feigned indifference.
“To the bathroom.”
“Why?” he smiled slightly. “You think I can't see how hard you are? Take off your pants and let's do it together.”
He looked me straight in the eye. No laughter. No hint of a joke.
And so I did.
I sat down next to him. I pulled my sweatpants down to my thighs, then my boxers, which were already sticky with pre-cum. My cock was already hard. Kyle looked at it without saying a word. With a smile. He didn't have to say anything, his eyes said it all.
I started to move. Slowly. Nervously. My fingers slid over the skin, rhythmically. I couldn't believe this was happening. That we were both sitting here, naked from the waist down. That I was doing this next to him.
Kyle changed pace. He sped up. His entire cock was glistening. His hand clenched and moved in a fast, confident rhythm. He moaned softly, deeply.
“Faster, Matt,” he muttered. “You're doing good. Aaah... you like that, huh?”
His voice was hoarse. Provocative. My cock throbbed. I felt warm, as if something inside me was about to explode.
“You wanna cum next to my cock?” he panted. “Then do it, fuck.”
I was breathing heavily. My heart was pounding like a hammer. His moans were getting louder and my hand was getting wetter with pre-cum. The room smelled of sweat, sex, tension.
“More. Faster. Good... Matt... ohhh...”
I wasn't thinking about anything anymore. I wasn't analyzing. There was only the rhythm, the slippery sounds of skin, our moans. I felt that I was close. Too close.
Kyle was the first to let out a deep, broken moan and shoot. His cum landed on his stomach, chest, and fingers. He pulsed for a moment, panting. A second later, I came too. Trembling, my jaw clenched, cum spurted onto my stomach, staining my T-shirt.
Silence fell. Only our breathing could be heard.
Kyle wiped his chest with his hand and looked at me from under his narrowed eyelids.
“See? I told you it would be interesting.”
I didn't answer. I couldn't.
It was my first day.
And I was already wondering what else he might surprise me with.
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