“You’re staring at my dick, bro. Want some of this or what?”
The words hung in the air like smoke. I stood frozen in the doorway, heart hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it over the low hum of the TV. My cock throbbed painfully inside my shorts, trapped and leaking, begging for attention I was too scared to give it. Cruz sat there on the couch, legs spread wide, one big hand wrapped around that thick shaft, stroking slow and deliberate like he had all night. Precum glistened on the head, a steady bead that caught the light every time his thumb circled it. I could not tear my eyes away. Every vein, every ridge, every slow slide of skin over skin was burned into my brain.
Inside my head it was chaos. Yes dude. Fuck yes. I want that thick fucking dick so bad I can barely think straight. I want to drop to my knees right now, wrap my lips around it, taste that salty precum sliding down my throat while you groan and call me a good boy. I want to feel those heavy balls against my chin, feel you stretch my mouth until I gag and tears run down my face. I cannot stop staring. I have been staring since you walked in shirtless, since you stripped naked like clothes were some kind of joke. Say it. Just say yes. But what if he laughs? What if he gets mad? What if Taylor finds out that I want his brother’s cock so bad? No. Fuck the risk. I need this.
My mouth opened before my brain could stop it. Voice cracked.
“Uhmm.. dude”
He kept stroking, slower now, almost teasing me with it. The wet sound of his hand gliding up and down filled the room. I could smell him from here. Sweat from the long drive, faint diesel from his truck, musk from his balls, sharp tang of precum. It hit me like a drug.
Then he shrugged, casual as if we were talking about the weather. “Relax, bro. Don’t freak out. I was kidding. Mostly. I’m starving after that drive. You got anything to eat?”
He stood up without warning. Cock bobbed heavy between his thick thighs, still rock hard and shiny, glistening from his own hand. He did not let go. One palm stayed wrapped around the base, giving it a lazy tug as he walked towards the kitchen like being naked and erect in front of your brother’s roommate was the most normal thing in the world. His ass flexed with every step, tats shifting over muscle, heavy balls swinging low. I watched every inch of him move.
I collapsed onto the couch before my legs gave out completely. “Yeah. Leftover pizza in the fridge..”
“Perfect.”
He bent over to open the fridge door. Thick cheeks spread just enough that I caught a glimpse of everything. Balls hanging full and low, taint shadowed, the faint dark hair trailing down. My mouth watered. He grabbed the pizza box, straightened up, and walked back. But instead of sitting on the other end of the couch like a normal person, he dropped right next to me. Thigh pressed against my thigh. Heat radiated off his skin. Legs spread wide again so his cock rested heavy against his inner thigh, pointing right at me.
He flipped the box open, grabbed a slice, and took a huge bite. One hand held the pizza. The other went back to his dick, stroking slow and lazy while he chewed. Sauce dripped onto his chin. He did not seem to care.
“So you’re the quiet one Taylor always bitches about?” he asked through a mouthful. “You study a lot? What you majoring in?”
I swallowed hard. My eyes kept darting between the slice in his hand and the thick shaft in the other. “Business. Yeah. Lots of reading. Essays. Stuff.”
He nodded, chewed, stroked. “Cool. Taylor says you’re smart. Always got your nose in a book. Me? I barely finished high school. Construction pays better than college debt anyway.”
Sauce smeared across his lower lip. He licked at it instinctively, but missed a spot. Then his stroking hand came up to wipe it. Fingers shiny with precum brushed his mouth. He looked down at the mess, laughed low.
“Fuck. Got myself dirty.”
He glanced over at me. Grin widening. “Can you stroke it while I finish eating? Don’t wanna get pizza sauce on my cock.”
I stared at him. He was serious. Dead serious. Like asking me to pass the salt.
My face burned. Inner voice screaming. He wants my hand on his dick. Right now. While he eats pizza. This is fucking insane. This is happening. Do it. Just fucking do it.
I hesitated. He leaned back against the cushions, spread his legs even wider, cock jutting up proud and leaking. “C’mon. Boys help boys, right? Just imagine it’s your own.”
My hand moved before I could talk myself out of it. Trembling fingers wrapped around the base. Heat hit me first. Then girth. Thick as my wrist, maybe thicker. Veins pulsed under my palm like live wires. Precum coated everything, making the first slide slippery. Wet squelch filled the quiet room.
I started stroking him awkwardly. Too light. Too slow. Afraid I would show him how much I was liking it.
Cruz took another bite of pizza. Groaned approval around the mouthful. “Yeah. Like that. Faster, bro.”
I sped up. Gripped tighter. Twisted my wrist at the head the way I did to myself sometimes. His abs flexed. Balls drew up slightly with each pump. The scent of him intensified. Musk, sweat, precum, faint tomato from the pizza. I was dizzy with it.
He kept eating, casual as fuck, while I jerked him off. Every few strokes he would moan low, hips twitching up into my hand. “Fuck yeah. Good grip. Keep going, dude.”
I stroked him faster. His cock swelled even thicker in my fist. Head flushed dark purple. Precum poured steadily, coating my fingers, dripping down to his balls.
Cruz took a huge bite. Then his whole body tensed.
Thick ropes exploded up his tatted abs. First shot hit high on his chest, splattering the tattoo. Second and third painted his abs in white streaks. Some arced wild and landed on the pizza slice still in his hand. He groaned long and deep, milking every pulse with my hand still wrapped around him.
When he finished he laughed. Breathless. “Shit. Wasted a good slice.”
He set the cum-splattered pizza down on the coffee table. Looked at the mess on his torso. Scooped a thick rope off his pec with two fingers. Held it up in front of my face.
“Ever tasted cum?”
I shook my head no. Lie. I had tasted cum plenty of times. Quick licks of my own in the shower and had swallowed dudes from Grindr. But this was different. This was my roommate’s older brother offering up his cum. Fresh. Thick. Still warm from his body.
Cruz tilted his head. “C’mon. Taste it. This shit’ll taste better than pepperoni.”
I laughed nervously. Could not help it. Inner monologue went wild. I want to lick every drop off his fingers. Suck them clean. Swallow it all down like I have been starving for it. Fuck. Just do it.
I leaned in. Tongue flicked out. Tentative at first. Salty. Musky. Thick and warm. Better than anything I had ever tasted. I licked again, bolder, curling my tongue around his fingers to get every bit. He watched me the whole time, eyes dark and amused.
“Good boy.”
He pulled his fingers back. Stood up. Cock still dripping the last drops onto the floor. Wiped the rest of his load on his thigh like it was nothing. “Gotta shower. All this sweat and cum has me. Taylor’s bathroom?”
He walked toward Taylor’s room naked. Ass flexing. Back muscles rolling under ink. Left me sitting there on the couch, hand sticky with his precum, taste of him coating my tongue, cock aching so hard it might bust in my shorts.
I stared at the cum-streaked pizza box on the coffee table. The discarded slice ruined with his load. The empty spot where he had been sitting. The apartment still smelled like him.
The weekend had barely started. Cruz was here till Monday. Showering in Taylor’s room right now. Probably jerking off again under the water. Or maybe waiting for me to come in. I did not know what the fuck was happening. I did not know how I had gone from planning a solo jerk-off weekend to jerking off my roommate’s older brother while he ate pizza.
But one thing was clear.
I already wanted more.
A lot more.
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