“You don’t have to be ashamed in front of me. I’ll help you out even if it means…”
Tyler stopped suddenly.
The words hung unfinished between us, heavy with everything we hadn't said yet. My pulse thudded in my ears. I stared at him, waiting, needing him to finish the sentence and tell me he would help me even if it meant crossing every line we had been dancing around for weeks.
Because I already knew I wanted him to.
Tyler’s hand stayed on my shoulder, his thumb pressing once like he was steadying both of us. He exhaled slowly, eyes locked on mine, the kitchen light catching the faint stubble along his jaw.
“Even if it means I use my mouth on you,” he said quietly. “To train your cock for that overwhelming feeling. To help your cock get used to the softness of lips and the wetness of a mouth.”
The room tilted.
My breath caught hard in my chest. Heat flooded my face, then dropped lower, pooling in my stomach before shooting straight to my cock. The thought hit me like a punch: Tyler’s mouth on my dick. Warm. Wet. Tight around the head of my cock. His tongue working me. His lips stretched. The way he would look up at me while he did it. I got instantly hard, the same cock that had betrayed me twenty minutes ago now throbbing against my jeans like it had been waiting for this exact moment.
I opened my mouth, closed it, tried again. “Bro… what?”
Tyler didn't flinch. He just gave that small, easy shrug he always used when he was laying out something obvious.
“C’mon, man,” he said, voice low and casual, like we were talking about gym sets. “You’re too shy to go hook up with girls and let them help you practice. You just proved that tonight with Sarah. You freeze up. You feel embarrassed. You bolt. I get it. But you need reps. You need to get your cock used to the intensity of a mouth. And I’m right here.”
I stared at him, heart slamming against my ribs. “You’re serious.”
“Dead fucking serious, my man.” He squeezed my shoulder once and laughed, then let his hand drop, stepping back just enough to give me space to breathe. “Look, dude. You lasted longer when she stroked you. That’s real progress from all the hand training we’ve been doing. But the second it got wetter, hotter, more intense with her mouth? Boom. Twenty seconds. That’s the gap we gotta close.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, face burning. “So your solution is… your mouth.”
He laughed again, short and warm, the sound filling the quiet kitchen. “Yeah, bro. My mouth. You think I’m gonna let my best friend keep crashing and burning because he’s scared of a little head? Nah. We fix this together. Like we’ve been doing so far with the stroking sessions.”
I swallowed. “Tyler, that’s… that’s not the same as bros jerking off together.”
“No shit it’s not the same.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed while my brain short-circuited. “Hands are one thing. Mouth is next fucking level. The suction. The heat. The tongue moving all over your cock. That’s what wrecked you tonight with Sarah. So we train for it. We get your cock used to it. Slow. Controlled. You last longer each time. Same as before.”
My cock twitched hard at the words. I shifted my weight, trying to hide the growing bulge. “And you’re just… cool with that?”
He tilted his head. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re my guy. I’ve had my hand on your cock for weeks now. You’ve had yours on mine. We’re already way past normal bro shit. This is just the next step in the training.”
I laughed, shaky and disbelieving. “The next step in the training.”
“Yeah.” He grinned, that cocky little tilt to his mouth that always made my stomach flip. “You want to last with girls? You gotta handle the big stuff. And the big stuff starts with me. No pressure. No judgment. No running out the door. Just us. In your room. Lights low. You lie back. I teach you control. You focus on breathing. On holding it. On telling me when you’re close so I can ease off. Same rules. Just more pleasure on your cock.”
I stared at the floor, mind racing. The image wouldn’t leave: Tyler between my legs, dark hair falling forward, lips stretched around my cock, eyes flicking up to watch my face while he sucked. The thought made me painfully horny.
“I don’t know, man,” I muttered. “That feels… huge.”
“It is huge.” He stepped closer again, voice dropping. “But you’re not doing it alone. You never have been. That’s the point of all this training we’ve been doing.”
I looked up. His eyes were steady, no teasing now. Just that quiet confidence that had carried me through every embarrassing night since we started the hand sessions.
“What if I can’t?” I asked. “What if I still cum in ten seconds?”
“Then we go again tomorrow. And the day after. Until you can handle a mouth on your cock.” He paused, then added softer, “And if it’s too much, we stop. No hard feelings. But I don’t think you want to stop.”
He was right. I didn’t.
The silence stretched. I could hear the fridge humming, the faint tick of the clock on the wall. My heart would not slow down.
“So we start practice again?” I finally asked, voice rough.
Tyler’s grin came back, slow and knowing. “Yeah… tomorrow night. After gym. You’ll need the endorphins.”
I nodded once, throat tight. “Okay.”
He reached out, clapped a hand on my shoulder again, and squeezed. “Good man.”
Then he turned and headed back toward his room like we had just planned a pickup game. At the doorway he paused and looked over his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, Noah… you’ve got me,” he said, voice light but eyes dark.
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stumbled back to my room on autopilot, the apartment dark and quiet except for the low hum of the fridge. I did not bother turning on the light. I just kicked off my shoes, stripped down to my boxers, and dropped onto the bed. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling fan spinning slow circles. My cock was still half-hard, pressing insistently against the cotton. Every time I shifted, the fabric dragged over the sensitive head, making me hiss through my teeth. I tried to ignore it. Tried to think about anything else. But my brain kept dragging me back to Sarah.
The way she had laughed after I came in her mouth. Not cruel, not mocking. Just surprised, a quick, startled sound, like she had not expected me to lose it so fast. She wiped her lips, smiled awkwardly, and said, “It’s okay, really.” But the embarrassment had burned anyway. Hot. Sharp. Familiar. I hated that feeling. Hated how small it made me feel, how exposed.
I had thought the edging and stroking sessions with Tyler were working. I had lasted longer when she used her hand, smiling to myself like an idiot because I finally had some control. Then her mouth closed around my cock and it was gone in seconds. I did not even get the chance to warn her properly before I filled her mouth with all my cum.
If a blowjob felt that intense, how the hell was I ever supposed to last long enough to fuck someone? The thought made my stomach twist. I could already imagine it: sliding inside the tight wet heat of a pussy, the rhythm, the way it would overwhelm me in seconds. I would be apologizing again. Pulling out too soon. Leaving another girl disappointed.
I rolled onto my side, trying to shut it down. But then my mind shifted, like it always did lately, straight to Tyler.
He had not made fun of me. Not when I came too fast in the beginning of our training. Not when I spilled into his hand the first time. Not tonight when I admitted how badly I had crashed with Sarah. He just listened. Looked at me with those steady eyes and said he would help. Even if it meant using his mouth on my cock.
The words replayed again, low and rough in my memory: “Even if it means I use my mouth on you. To train you for that overwhelming feeling. To help your cock get used to the softness of lips and the wetness of a mouth.”
My cock throbbed hard at the thought, pushing against the waistband of my boxers. I bit my lip, trying not to touch myself. But I couldn't stop the images. Tyler on his knees between my legs. His handsome face so close, dark stubble catching the low light, those full lips parting as he took my cock in. The way his eyes would flick up to watch me while his tongue worked slow circles around the head. The heat of his mouth. The suction. The way he would hum around my cock like he had done everything else… with total control, total care.
We had jerked off next to each other for weeks now. That was different. Bros did that sometimes in college… locker-room dares, late-night bets. It was easy to write off as bonding, as helping a friend. But mouths? That was something else. That was intimate in a way hands never could be. That was crossing a line we could not uncross. And fuck, the idea of Tyler’s mouth on my cock made me leak more, a wet spot forming on the fabric.
I had always thought Tyler was hot. I had noticed it from the beginning: the easy confidence, the way his body moved, the tan skin and the muscles, the way he filled a room without trying. But I buried it. Told myself it was just admiration. Just roommate stuff. Now the thought of his mouth on my cock made it impossible to pretend anymore. The idea should have scared me more. Instead it made me harder and desperate in a way I hadn't felt before.
If you enjoyed this story, consider supporting the author on Patreon.
