From the beginning, there was something strange about the way Troy looked at me. Not intrusively. Not directly. But too long, too intently. When I took off my shirt after the gym, he pretended to be staring at his phone, but his eyes weren't on the screen. Or when I was sitting on my bed in just my boxers, I felt him scanning me. Quietly. For too long. He seemed straight, but... well, something wasn't right.
There were other moments too. Sometimes, under the covers, his hand would move in a strange rhythm... and he would look at me.
One afternoon, after training, I was sitting at my desk when I heard the bathroom door open. I heard my name. “Matt?” His voice sounded embarrassed, but with a lightness that stirred something in me. I turned around. He just poked his head out from behind the doorframe. His hair was damp, his cheeks a little red.
“Can you... shave my balls?” he blurted out.
I froze.
I don't know if the question sounded funnier or more obscene, but I had only one thought in my head: did he just say that? My heart pounded. I swear, I didn't know what to say, but my dick reacted faster than my brain. I pretended to be surprised. “Really?” I said with a fake half-joking, half-shocked expression.
“Well... I can't reach it. And I have a date tonight.”
A date. Sure. I don't know if he added that on purpose or if he was serious, but I had already made up my mind. I got up. “Sure.”
He just smiled crookedly and disappeared back into the bathroom. I stood up, my hands shaking a little, but not from nerves. From excitement. I was going to shave his balls. And he had no problem with that.
I walked into the bathroom and my breath caught in my throat. Troy was standing in the middle, completely naked, without a shred of shame. As if it were completely normal. As if I was going to help him shave his beard, not his balls. He stood with his legs apart, looking down as if assessing the situation. His cock was at rest, drooping slightly towards his thighs, but the sight of it alone was enough. Thick, naturally hanging, with darker balls. Everything looked... very good.
"With a razor?" he asked, handing me a disposable one.
I shook my head.
"I’ve got an electric one. It’ll be better. And safer."
I left for a moment, came back with the razor, plugged it in. Troy stood in the same position, leaning slightly on the sink countertop with his hand. He wasn't covering anything. Seriously, he looked like someone who totally trusted his roommate. Or like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
I knelt in front of him. I turned on the razor. It trembled in my hand, but I trembled even more when I put it against his penis and testicles. The skin was taut, soft, slightly moist. I shaved slowly, carefully, so as not to cut him. His breathing was calm. At first.
After a few seconds, I noticed that his cock was starting to rise. At first subtly, as if something was just adjusting. Then more decisively. A pulsing vein. The tip rising upward. He didn't say a word. He didn't laugh. He didn't get embarrassed. He stood there as if it were normal for his roommate to be kneeling in front of him, holding his balls in his hand, while he was getting hard.
I looked at him. He smiled under his breath, as if he wasn't surprised at all.
And his dick was already standing.
Fully erect. Long, hard, with a drop of clear liquid at the tip. Precum. One shiny pearl of tension. I was in shock, he was totally in control. He didn't have to say anything. His body spoke for him. And it said one thing: he was turned on. By me.
I finished shaving. I put down the razor. I looked at his cock, which wasn't going down. On the contrary, it was throbbing as if demanding more.
I hadn't planned on doing anything else. Or maybe... that was exactly what I was hoping for.
“Can I suck you off?” I asked quietly but confidently. No jokes. No smile.
Troy looked down at me. There was silence for a second. Then he just nodded.
“I'd love to.”
I didn't have to think twice. There were no jokes, no “it's just for fun.” He knew what he was saying, and I knew what I was doing.
I moved closer to his cock. It stood right in front of me, throbbing, taut, perfectly hard. The precum on the tip not only glistened but slowly dripped, as if it couldn't hold back. The skin was slightly pulled back, the head protruding and smooth. I brought my lips closer, stuck out my tongue and... licked the first drop.
It was sweet, sticky, warm. A taste I didn't know, but one I didn't want to stop. Troy just hissed through his teeth, quietly, as if he couldn't believe it was happening. And I was just getting started.
I opened my mouth wider and took him inside. Slowly. The head, then a bit of the shaft. I could feel his cock tightening my lips, his vein rubbing against my tongue. His skin was warm and smelled... him. Faint, masculine, intense. I pulled him deeper, then slid out, sucked harder. The sucking began. Rhythmic, slow. I could feel him trembling. His thighs tensing slightly. His hand finding the back of my neck. He was holding me. He wasn't guiding me, but he was present.
I started working with my tongue. I teased the tip, circled around it, then down the shaft. Sometimes I took it out of my mouth and licked it like an ice cream cone, my long, slippery tongue running along its entire length. Then I sucked again. Deeper. Harder. I felt his hips start to move forward slightly. He was no longer passive. He was starting to cooperate.
He sighed. Quietly, but with feeling. As if he didn't know that something had come out of his throat. Then another moan. Quiet, drawn out, real.
I grabbed his balls, gently, just so he could feel the contact. He moaned louder.
“Matt...” he whispered. Nothing else. But that one word said it all: shock, disbelief, pleasure. And something else. Something that left me room to go further.
I started to speed up. I sucked him harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Almost to my throat. My lips were wet, saliva was running down the shaft, everything was loud, wet, alive. And his breathing was getting more and more ragged.
“I'm coming...” he whispered, warning me. But I didn't stop.
On the contrary.
I held him tight and sucked until he trembled. His body tensed in a second, his hips jerked forward, and I felt him shoot deep into my throat. Warm, thick, intense. I swallowed everything. Without a word. He looked at me like it was nothing. "I need to take a shower," he said.
I left the bathroom. My heart was pounding, my hands were still shaking slightly, and I sat down on the bed, still tasting him on my tongue. I knew one thing: nothing would ever be the same again.
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