While names may have been changed, this story and those that follow are completely true. I'd love to know what you think & if you enjoyed it. jasonsmith135@yahoo.com
The next few weeks in the dorm room Zack were pretty hot and cold. There were some nights that he would want me to stay in same bed with him, but nothing would happen. Other nights, he would make the first move and slide his hand into my pants. And other times, he'd rush off to bed and nothing would happen at all. Our friendship continued to grow and got stronger. But I was wanting a bit more than friendship at this point. I wanted him to be mine, and me to be his. I had fallen for him. The mixed signals weren't helping -- It only confused me more and the hot and cold only made me like him and want him more.
Months passed by, and we would occasionally have nights where our hands could not stay away from each other's dicks. But as soon as we had both finished and were spent -- the moment was over and who knew when the next time would be. It never really was my call; I was horny 24/7 and I wanted to play around with Zack at all times. So I spent most of my time waiting for some signal, just waiting to be given a wink, a sly smile, a pinky touch, something that let me know that he was willing to mess around.
It was always on his schedule, his discernment, and I didn't know what the reason was for whether we did or did not have a night together. I was getting a little tired of the games he was playing with my heart (and dick), but I was hooked. He was the only guy that knew about me, the only person who had seen me naked, the only one to touch me or let me touch them. He was special to me and I wasn't secure enough to give him up and start looking to start over with someone else. So that meant I was stuck. Stuck waiting.
Finally, after months of being jerked around (figuratively not actually), I found Zack in a full breakdown in our room one night after I had been out with some friends. He was almost hyperventilating and I could see tears running down his red face. He wasn't just sad; he was angry.
"Woah. Dude, what's wrong? What happened?!" I was a little worried because he had obviously been crying for a long time.
"Caleb. Fucking Caleb!" he yelled.
Who is Caleb? I don't know anyone with that name, at least not here at school. No one in our friend groups were named Caleb. Who was he, and what had he done? I needed to find out. I was trying to calm him down.
"Who is Caleb? What happened??"
I went over to him and tried to hug him, to let him know that I was here and would listen and tried to be comforting, but he resisted. He was still too in-the-moment. I let him have his space but sat near him on the bed. He wiped his face but never looked at me.
"He is.. well he was," he trailed off, wiping his face again. And then, he almost yelled, "HE WAS MY BOYFRIEND OKAY?"
There was nothing but silence except for his sniffling and the occasional sob. My mind was racing. I had no idea there was anyone in the picture other than me. I thought this thing was just us. But apparently there was someone else. Another guy. Wait -- did this make ME the home-wrecker? This is not what I wanted. This is not what I intended. I feel disgusting. I tried to make sense of it all but it wasn't really coming together for me. What was I missing? Was he just being a two-timer? He just wanted two dicks and that didn't bother him. I didn't know.
"Oh," was all I could get out.
I didn't know what else to say. I wasn't sure if there was anything I COULD say. He took a few minutes, me just sitting there beside him, trying to collect himself and then he started to explain.
"I met Caleb a year or two ago. He was in the show choir too, the year before you started here."
"Oh ok." I still felt out of it. Like I had been the one cheated on, but I was the one he cheated WITH. I needed to hear the whole story.
"He came out to me one night and no one knew he was gay. No one. Except for me. We got close and we started dating, secretly. We've been together for a while now. He moved away to California after his last semester here and I haven't seen him in a long time. But every few months or so he tells me that we should break up so we can both have some `freedom'."
And that's when I start to put the pieces together. This was an On-Again-Off-Again relationship. They had been dating but Caleb was in a new place and wanted some freedom (an excuse so that he could get with other guys). So when Caleb had an opportunity to fuck someone else, he broke it off with Zack, which obviously happened pretty regularly. And THAT is why things between us had been so hot and cold. That's why he had been so sad so often, and that's when Zack would suddenly be interested in getting off with me. Then after Caleb got his rocks off and felt bad enough about it he would call Zack, apologize, and get back together, and then things with me and Zack halted -- until he broke up with him again.
I felt like a pawn. I felt like I was being used. Was I just for jealousy? To make Caleb angry enough to make him come back? Did Caleb even know that I existed? Or was I just a helping hand to get Zack to blow a load while he was sad and lonely? I didn't know, and wasn't sure if I ever would. I felt gross. Even though I had nothing to do (intentionally) with coming between them, I felt guilty, like I had some hand in the middle of all this. I decided then that I needed to step back and get some distance from the situation -- and from Zack.
After that afternoon, I started spending more time with other friends around campus. Staying out later than normal just so I wouldn't be cooped up with Zack for longer than was comfortable so that things didn't get awkward. Even though Caleb had supposedly dumped Zack once again, and he was technically free to do whatever with whoever, I kept my distance and didn't try to work my way into his pants. I thought that was best for both of us and whether he knew I was intentionally staying away or not, Zack didn't really seem to mind. Things were a little cold between us.
We still saw each other every day, we still had some classes together, show choir, and of course still lived together. But late night talks and fast food runs started to dwindle. And while I knew this was probably for the best, that didn't stop my dick. Morning hard-ons became difficult to hide and seeing him around the dorm while changing and post-showers definitely caused boners. I had to reintroduce my dick to my own hand since I knew that I'd be the only one taking care of it from now on. Having rushed orgasms in the shower became the norm once again. It wasn't the same, it wasn't as fun, and I just wanted someone to jerk me off.
Months passed by and there were definite ups and downs through our friendship. Some weeks we would find ourselves spending more time together and going on late night drives again, and other weeks we'd just see each other in passing. It could make you kind of dizzy sometimes, never knowing how each week would turn out. And again, I noticed that a lot of this depended on his mood. When I'd find him crying in the dorm late at night we'd end up being friends again that week. And I put together that this was still all depending on Caleb. I was getting tired of it and my dick was getting restless.
I was getting bored with my same old right handed attack on the situation. Soaping up my dick in the shower for the umpteenth time of the week. Hiding in my bed under the sheets trying not to get caught or be too loud. Getting another boner that needed to be taken care of and slipping into the shower, holding my towel in front of my crotch, trying not to bring attention to it. Stripping naked as soon as I got into the bathroom and jumping into the water before it even got warm, too anxious to hurry and get my hand on my member. Getting it all slick and soapy so that I could fall into my quick routine of haphazardly slinging my hand back and forth across my boner.
The only variation I had was in positioning. Sometimes standing under the water with one hand on my dick, and the other bracing myself against the shower wall, spewing onto the floor. Sometimes I'd be too tired and would kneel on the floor, straddling the drain with my head thrown back, trying not to drown under the falling water before I could sling my load across the tile. And when I got desperate for variation, even laid down with my back against the cold tile floor with my feet slapped against the wall, my ass lifted and back arched as I sprayed my cumload across my body, trying to shoot far enough to hit my face just so I could have the sensation. If you can't tell, I was getting desperate.
The months continued to pass by and eventually the school year ended. Me and Zack were on okay terms as we both packed all of our stuff into our cars, leaving the dorm completely bare for the remainder of the summer. We shared a quick hug on the last day, saying that we'd keep in touch and maybe plan to see each other in a week or two.
And just like that, my freshman year had ended. The year that I had come out to someone. The year that I had let someone truly know me. The year that I had been vulnerable enough to strip naked with my roommate, and held his body next to mine, held his cock in my hand, helped him moan and shudder while his whole body tightened as cum gushed from his cock down my hands. The year that I let another guy stroke my own dick, while I convulsed in his hands, spraying my load over my body and his hands. The year we laid together night after night, cuddling, talking about our lives, our dreams, our needs. It had been a blast and I hated to see it end the way it did.
We both climbed into our cars, looked at each other again, gave a quick wave, and drove away in opposite directions of each other. I turned the music down a bit as I drove, wiping tears away so that I could see the road -- hoping that this wouldn't be the last time I would see Zack.
Part 5 coming soon!
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