I wish that I was a better writer, so that I could more poetically describe my experience. I hope my lack of linguistic skill does not deprive you of the excitement and thrill of the fun I had.
Before going to college, I did have experience playing with men. I never called myself a dom but I did have a controlling personality, which ultimately let me get my way --with a little cunning charm and patience thrown in for good measure. As for myself, I was tall and slender. I had dark brown hair. Through high school, my chest was smooth but now a thin coating of fur started becoming evident. My legs were already quite hairy, as they were since the seventh grade. What most guys remember the most about me is my dick. Being just shy of nine inches, it was big.
I was full of anxiety, as I looked for a place to live while attending college. Since I chose a college on the other side of the state, it was no longer feasible to stay at home. I didn't know anybody and precariously found a place through a flier that was hanging on a bulletin board at the university. Four of us would be sharing a two bedroom apartment. Dave and John would share one bedroom. I would be lodging with Eric.
Eric was a dirty blonde, stocky, and of average height. I would soon discover that though his torso was smooth, his legs were covered in light brown fuzz. He was polite and conscientious. He offered to help move my stuff and redecorate the room. He didn't just assume where to put his bed and belongings; he asked for my input, which made me feel at home.
I quickly discovered that Eric was addicted to sex. I would catch him trying to masturbate several times throughout the day, every day. When I entered the room, his hand that would be down his pants would immediately stop pumping. Sometimes he would have a blanket over his waist, shielding his activity. I would pretend not to notice. However, I would linger, preventing him from rubbing. I suspect he was trying in the shower. We shared the bathroom with Dave and John. After they pounded on the door telling him to quit masturbating in the shower, that route ended. At night, I would quietly lie in bed watching his torso as he humped his pillows. He would quietly get into place, trying his best not to wake me. His ass would thrust forward, pushing his dick between the pillows he held down. Sometimes I would just lie there quietly watching, allowing him to finish with a staggered moan. Other times I would move an arm or leg, which would make him panic. The humping would freeze and he'd try to get situated in bed without being overtly noticeable. This, of course, would make me horny.
In the morning when he was at class, I sometimes examined his pillows. Between the fabrics would be a crusty stain that had a heady musky order of sex. I would touch the cum stain and wonder how many loads he deposited. Sometimes the stain would still be fresh and moist. When examining the stains, I would always be cautious, fearing what might happen if I got caught. Nobody knew I was gay.
Out of the blue, when Eric was showering one day Dave and John asked if I got along with Eric. I was confused why they'd asked that. John explained that the former roommate I replaced left because Eric kept him awake at night. "Awake?" I inquired. John moved his hand, pretending to jack off. John said, "I think he might be addicted to masturbating." I acted baffled and said that I must be a sound sleeper.
One morning my horniness broke me free of the fear. Everyone was gone; I was left alone. I shut the blinds in our bedroom and carefully listed one of his pillows. The two pillow cases were stuck together from a cum load deposited that night. I pull them apart and bring his spunk stain to my face. I breathed in the musky odor. It smelled earthly and manly. Whatever inhibition I may have had, the smell resolved my ambition and focused my desire. I kicked off my pants and underwear and mounted his bed. My cock was hard and ready. I rubbed the moist stain to my shaft, knowing I was getting intimate with Eric's semen. It excited me. I got myself in the same position I saw him in earlier. I pressed my cock between his pillows and thrusted my hips. Soon I added my own load. My cock joyfully spewed between the fabrics of the pillows.
Using his pillows became part of the regular routine. I always had huge loads. Getting off offered relief to my horniness; however, it was temporary and it made me even hornier to know he was smelling my load as he lay in bed.
One particular night he tried to get off but each time that he neared completion I would move, forcing him to stop. I knew that he was horny. I was horny, too. At one point I quietly maneuvered my cock through the underwear fly and began to touch myself ever so carefully. I wanted nothing more than to grip the shaft and stroke unconstrained. But I feared getting caught, so I stroked extremely cautiously. Despite my best effort to make no noise, he heard something and sat up in bed, watching my bed. I was under the covers and he could actually see anything. Nevertheless I could tell that he was suspicious.
"Are you awake?" he whispered.
A wave of sweat poured over me. "Yeah," I replied.
His speculation was made concrete. "Are you wanking?"
I was hardly touching myself and speculated how acute his hearing must be. I counter his accusation. "You have been trying to wank all night."
He said, "We need more privacy."
"You want to leave?" I asked.
"No, do you want to leave?"
"We could compete to see who'd leave." I said.
"Like whoever won could tell the other to leave at any time for a wank?" he mulled it over.
"The other wouldn't get off then, I guess," I reasoned out loud.
"Huh, interesting," he said. "I can wank a lot so you'd be on the sofa a lot."
"Well, it's up to you." I said.
"How would we compete?"
"We could say first to cum wins." I reckoned.
I could see that he was playing with his dick under the covers. "Yeah, we could."
"Okay, then first to cum gets to dictate the wanking." I stated.
After a minute of us both stroking, he said, "Wait. You were already stroking and might be farther along. That isn't fair."
"What do you think?" I asked.
"Instead of the shortest, what if we see who can last the longest?"
"Sure," I accepted the challenge.
There we were stroking together, each in our own bed. It was hot listening to him stroking and panting. After nearly half an hour he accused me of cheating. "Are you stopping?"
"What?" I asked.
"If you periodically stop stroking you can keep yourself edged. But that doesn't seem fair, you should keep stroking."
If we turned the lights on we might draw suspicion from the other roommates. "What do you propose?" I asked.
"I don't know," he said. After several more minutes he said dryly, "We could stroke each other."
"What?"
"It is the only way. If we stroke each other, we know the other is being stroked." His logic was sound. The idea of him grabbing my cock made me even more excited.
"I'm game for that," I said nonchalantly.
I could see his figure getting up and kicking off the boxers he was sporting. He walked over to my bed and sat down. Our furry legs intertwined. I could hear his deep breaths. Then his warm hand grasped my cock. I couldn't believe this was happening. "Fuck, you're big," he whispered. Though he didn't see it, I smiled. I reached over and took a hold of his hard cock. His cock was much smaller but fit nicely into my hand.
His ball sack bounced against mine. His hand moved from the base to the head, often changing positions as he tried to stimulate my dick. I speculated that my cock may be the first he ever touched,excluding his own. I kept my pace hard and steady.
His cock was dry and cut. At some point I told him that he better spit on his cock before the skin gets worn off. He didn't respond. He was panting and moaning softly. His head moved forward and I felt the wetness of spit he drooled upon his cock. The moisture surely made his cock feel even better. His left leg twitched in delight. The extra stimulation from his spit pushed him over the edge. I could feel his cock spasm and several spurts of cum oozed out.
I reclaimed my cock and used my cum covered fingers to stroke. The thought of using his fresh cum as lube threw me over the edge. I came vigorously. As I did so, I pointed my cock forward so the spurts of spunk would land on him.
"Dude, you covered me cum." he whispered. He rubbed the cum off with his used boxers, through the cum laiden boxers in his pile of dirty clothes, and unceremoniously went to bed naked. "Goodnight," he said.
I smiled but said nothing.
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