All day, I was on edge. I pretended to be working, doing something in the kitchen, scrolling through my phone, but the truth was simple: I was waiting. Every sound in the stairwell, every creak of the neighbors' door made me turn my head, as if he were about to knock again.
Noon passed, silence. Evening passed, still nothing. With every passing hour, I lost hope that he'd drop by again, that I'd see him just like yesterday, naked, wet, confident. And yet that tension didn't fade. Rather, it took root, swirled inside me, grew.
When it got really late, I just gave up. I was too aroused to try to fall asleep. I went into the bedroom and lay down on the bed naked, without shame before myself.
Lying there, I felt the coolness of the sheets on my skin, contrasting with the heat beneath my skin. I closed my eyes and yesterday's image came back immediately: Nick in my bathroom, pulling down his boxers, his chest, his stomach, his hard cock reflecting the light, his ass begging to be looked at. And the scent of his boxers, that intense, masculine scent I'd smelled in his room. As soon as that memory came back, my cock sprang to life immediately.
I sighed softly. I grabbed it with one hand, clenching my fingers at the base. I could feel it pulsing beneath the skin, hard and heavy, ready for everything I hadn't given it all day. I slid my hand up once, twice, slowly, testing my own reaction. My hips lifted slightly off the bed. I was about to really get started when...
The doorbell.
Long, confident, without a moment's hesitation.
My heart leapt into my throat.
I froze, and then panic hit me like an avalanche.
I was completely naked. Hard. On the bed. With my hand on my cock.
I jumped up violently, covering myself with one hand, the other searching for anything I could throw on. There was nothing within reach. Nothing. I had to open the door. I was breathing shallowly, feeling my cock still standing at attention, giving everything away.
I opened the door, barely cracking it open.
And there was Nick. Wrapped only in a towel. He was holding a fresh pair of boxers in his hand.
"Hey," he said with that calm half-smile of his. "Can I hop in the shower now?"
I nodded before the words even registered.
His gaze shifted downward. To my hand. To the bulge beneath it. He paused. His eyebrows rose slightly.
"Ooh..." he murmured. "Looks like I interrupted some fun."
I felt myself getting hot from head to toe.
"No problem," I replied, feigning nonchalance. "I'll get back to it later."
He gave a half-smile, as if he liked my answer.
"Sure," he said. "I'm going to get myself together."
He walked past me slowly, the towel on his hips barely staying in place. And I closed the door, feeling that my body was only just beginning to realize what I'd gotten myself into.
When Nick closed the bathroom door behind him, I just stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to catch my breath.
My cock was still rock hard, and the throbbing in my lower abdomen wouldn't let up one bit. It was absurd, one conversation with him, one smile, and my body was acting as if I'd spent an hour watching porn.
I went back to the bedroom, still warm from his gaze. The comforter was still warm from my body. I sat on the edge of the bed, sighed deeply, and slipped under it, as if hiding from something I couldn't control. I was still naked. Still hard. Still with my head full of yesterday's images and Nick's half-smile from today.
I ran my hand over my cock, this time slower, more carefully, as if I wanted to calm myself down. My breath came out heavier. I closed my eyes. In my mind, I saw him standing in the doorway of my apartment, a towel draped low on his hips, his chest slightly damp with steam. And that moment when he looked down… as if he'd lingered there longer than he should have.
My hips lifted of their own accord beneath the comforter. My fingers tightened.
"Maybe I'll finish this," I thought, feeling the heat building in my lower abdomen.
Maybe five minutes had passed. Maybe less. That was enough for my breathing to quicken again and my abdominal muscles to tense beneath my skin. I was already at that point where the body starts begging on its own.
And that's when I heard the soft rustle of the doorknob.
The bedroom door opened slowly, like he wasn’t sure if he should come in… but did anyway. I immediately pulled my hand away, the comforter shifted slightly, but I didn't manage to cover myself completely before I saw his silhouette.
Nick. Still wrapped in the same towel. Drops of water fell from his hair onto his shoulders. He walked in without asking, stopped in front of my bed, and then sat down in the armchair.
He rested his elbow on the armrest and looked straight at me.
"Are you going to continue?" he asked casually, as if he were asking if I wanted coffee.
My heart pounded so hard against my chest it almost hurt.
I swallowed.
"Maybe... in a minute," I replied, less confidently than I'd intended.
His gaze didn't leave my bed. Or what the comforter was hiding.
And then he did something that completely knocked the wind out of me.
He grabbed the edge of the towel.
First, he loosened it, revealing one side of his hip.
Then the other.
Until finally, he let the fabric fall completely.
The towel slid to the floor, and his cock rose before him, hard, heavy, full, ready. There wasn't a shred of shame in it. No hesitation. He just sat across from me, completely naked, as if it were the most normal way to have a conversation.
He smiled slightly, questioningly.
"How about… now?"
And in that moment, I knew that the boundary we'd both been pretending not to see had just ceased to exist.
Shock. That was the first thing I felt when the towel fell to the floor and his cock rose before me, hard, throbbing, glistening with fresh precum. Nick sat in the armchair as casually as if he were naked more often than he was dressed. Leaning back comfortably, legs spread, a hand on his thigh. His body was like a magnet. Looking at him hurt, in the way a person remembers for a lifetime.
I couldn't pretend it meant nothing to me.
I couldn't breathe normally.
I swallowed hard.
He looked at me as if he were waiting for me to make the first move.
"So?" he asked quietly, with that half-smile of his. "Are we just going to sit here like this?"
Everything inside me stirred. Slowly, almost without thinking, I pulled back the blanket. My cock was hard enough to stand on its own, taut, throbbing. Nick looked at it as if that was exactly what he wanted to see. Nothing else, just that.
His gaze was like a touch.
I sat up a little higher on the bed, leaning my back against the headboard. I sighed, because the tension in my stomach was growing with every fraction of a second. And then, as naturally as if someone were guiding my hand, I grabbed my cock. A slow downward stroke. A second. A third. I exposed myself to him completely, showing every gesture, every muscle tension, every contraction of my hips.
Nick tilted his head back, resting it against the headrest of the armchair, and looked at me without hesitation.
And his cock twitched. The vein along its shaft clearly tensed.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Keep doing that."
I tightened my fingers slightly. I moved my hand up and down, slowly, just the way I like it. I couldn't take my eyes off him. His stomach rippled quietly with his breath, his chest rising calmly, confidently. And then his hand finally moved.
First, he touched himself lightly, running a finger over the head.
Precum glistened in the light.
My hips twitched instinctively.
Then he grabbed his cock with his whole hand.
He started jerking off in front of me, hard, confidently, as if he were doing it for me. The movements of his forearm were fluid, rhythmic. Every stroke of his hand was visible on the taut muscles of his arm. He looked so sexy that I felt my throat go dry.
There wasn't a second of hesitation between us.
No shame.
Just a thick, heavy silence thick with eroticism and two bodies that clearly knew why they were here.
We looked into each other's eyes, then at our cocks, at our hands, at the movements of our hips.
The energy between us was so intense that I could feel it like heat on my skin.
Nick bit his lower lip lightly.
I let out a low growl that I didn't even try to stifle.
We were starting to play at something that had no right to happen, and yet it was happening, right here and now.
And from the very beginning, we both wanted this more than we were ready to admit.
The rhythm between us fell into place on its own, as if our bodies had known each other longer than our minds. I was breathing heavily, sliding my hand over my cock faster and faster, my hips lifting off the bed with every harder stroke. I was so turned on by now that every touch felt twice as intense. My abs tensed beneath my skin, and my breath caught in my throat.
Nick looked at me as if he were studying every inch of my body. He hid nothing, not the hunger in his eyes, nor the lust, nor the fact that his cock was hard as a rock. His hand moved confidently, rhythmically. The veins on his forearm bulged with every squeeze of his fingers. Precum glistened on his head with every stroke of his hand, stretching like a thin thread of light.
He was beautiful.
He was brutally sexy.
He was exactly what I wanted.
His breathing started to quicken too, though he tried not to show it, too confident, too in control. But I saw everything. His abs rippled, his chest rose more noticeably, his thighs tensed with every movement.
"Matt…" he let slip quietly, as if he'd lost control for the first time.
And I felt something inside me snap.
I sped up. My hand slid along the entire length of my cock, faster, harder, all the way to the tip. My hips rose as if independently of me. I felt the build-up inside me, fast, sudden, intense.
Nick ran his hand over his cock so hard he groaned. Quiet, low, real. That was enough to make my body jerk forward. My breath caught as if someone had grabbed me by the throat.
"Fuck..." I whispered, feeling myself lose control.
Nick was the first to cross the line.
He clenched his teeth, his hips lifted off the armchair, and his cock twitched violently in his hand.
He came.
Hot streams of cum spurted onto his chest, stomach, all the way up to his neck. His body trembled, his abdominal muscles contracted visibly, and a quiet moan tore through the air. Watching it was like a shot straight to the gut.
My body tensed violently.
My hips lifted off the bed.
My hand clenched tighter.
And then I came.
Hard. Loud. Hot streams of cum landed on my chest, stomach, all the way up to my chin. I was breathing as if I were sprinting. I felt every burst, every wave, every second of pleasure spreading through my body.
For a moment, we both just panted, each in our own space, yet at the same time in the same one. Connected by something that shouldn't have happened, and yet it happened so intensely that it was hard to believe it was real.
Nick stretched slowly, as if he were just coming back to life. Cum was running down his stomach, glistening in the light.
"Oh yeah..." he muttered, satisfied, breathing heavily. "I needed that after a long day. Thanks, Matt."
He got up from the armchair, picked up the towel, draped it carelessly over his hips as if nothing special had happened, and left the room without a word.
And I lay there, covered in cum, still trembling...
and I knew he wasn't just a neighbor anymore.
It was a game.
And we were both just getting started.
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