Personals Response
Though there is some basis in reality, this is a fictional story. Any resemblance to individuals or places is purely coincidental. Copyright 2025. silverhaireddad@proton.me.
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When I got accepted to graduate school, I knew I'd be moving to a new city where I wouldn't know anyone. I was fortunate to have my own apartment, and I began to make friends among my classmates pretty quickly. But those friendships didn't really satisfy my "needs."
You see, I like to watch guys beat off. From the first time I ever saw someone else do that it has always intrigued me (and turned me on!). It's like a window into their deep pleasure center: seeing the touch and rhythm and response to their ministrations. Though I had never had lots of experiences like that, I knew from those I did have that voyeurism was a turn-on to me.
My new city had a free weekly newspaper that had a "personals" section. Obviously, when I first saw it, I began to peruse for someone who might be posting for what I liked. But I didn't see anything in that vein. Most were for things I didn't do or were too kinky for my individual tastes. So I decided to post my own message. I figured that being in a new city wouldn't attract a response from someone I knew who didn't know my interests.
My ad was simple: "Grad Student seeks similar who enjoys company when doing what all guys do." The personals ad had a code that someone could respond to that sent a message privately to me with their contact information. I figured the ad was abstract enough to attract someone who might enjoy doing what I like, and might also leave open the possibility that I could join in if the circumstances were right.
The first week after posting my ad, there was no response. That really didn't bother me. I was less interested in finding a large number who were into the same thing I was, and more hoping that someone who might respond would be passionate about this interest.
The second week my ad was posted generated a response. It was, simply, "I'm interested," with a short description and contact information. "Mike" was a college student at the same university as me, though an undergraduate. He was interested in chatting. So I contacted him at the number he gave. When he answered and I told him I was calling in response to his message from the ad, he asked me to wait for a second while he moved from the living room of his shared apartment to his bedroom, where it was more private.
"Hi," he said after he had changed locations. "Hello to you," I replied. "I was glad to get your response to my ad." "Yeah," Mike said. "I wasn't sure it was a good idea, but I thought what the hell.'" I chuckled. "I felt the same way when I placed the ad," I honestly said. "Why did you place the ad?" Mike asked with curiosity. "Well, I'm new to the city and don't know a lot of people yet. I have specific interest and wanted to see if others shared that interest." "And what is your specific interest?" Mike asked. "You answered my ad--what did you think my interest was?" I replied. "I asked you first," said Mike. Again, I chuckled. "I'd like to find a buddy who likes an audience when he does what all guys do." I thought that was specific enough without being too graphic for an initial conversation. "Just hearing you say that is making me hard," said Mike. I was thrilled that he had such a response! "How do we make something like this happen?" he asked. "I've got my own apartment not far from campus," I said. "I don't have any roommates, so am open to your stopping by sometime when you are in the mood." "I think our conversation has made me in the mood now!" said Mike. "Then come on over," I said. I shared information about where I was, which ended up being not too far from where Mike lived. He said he'd be there in about 15 minutes. I straightened up my living room and brought a small towel from the bathroom and folded it up under me end table for cleanup.'
True to form, after about 15 minutes, there was a soft knock on my apartment door. I opened it and saw one of the cutest college guys imaginable! He was fit without being overly-muscular, tall and thin without being a giant or skinny, and overall quite handsome. He was casually dressed in sweatpants and a polo shirt--the quintessential college student. I smiled and welcomed him to come in, which he did. "Have a seat on the couch," I said, pointing to the obvious location in my living room. "Would you like something to drink?" "No, I think I'm fine for now," he said. I sat on the other end of the couch from him. "You are a good-looking guy," I said to him to break the ice. "You are too," he said. "I wasn't sure what to expect." I guess I am reasonably attractive at 6 feet, 160 pounds and a face that doesn't scare people away. I was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, my standard fare.
There was a minute or two of semi-awkward silence. Then Mike piped up. "Have you had many responses to your ad?" "Only yours," I replied. "That's interesting," he said. "I know every guy does it, so I would have thought more might be interested." "Apparently, not every guy likes an audience when he does it," I said with a laugh. I swore that made Mike blush. "I wasn't sure I did either," said Mike. "But when I read your ad, something just made me want to do it." "I'm glad that happened," I said. "I share a bedroom with one of my roommates," said Mike, "and though I know we both do it, it's always something so private. I never even thought about watching him or him watching me."
I decided to take this initial phase of our conversation in a more concrete direction. "When you say `do it,' what do you mean?" I asked inquisitively. Mike blushed even more, and almost stammered when he replied. "Beat off," he said. "Yeah, that's what I meant too," I said. Again, there was an awkward silence. "Have you ever done this before?" he asked. "Not very often, and not since I moved here for school," I said. "But the first time I ever saw another guy beat off, I was enthralled. It was one of the most erotic things I had ever seen. Have YOU ever done this before?" Mike squirmed in his seat. "No, but I have thought about it a lot," he said. "But I would have never initiated anything like this. I was shaking when I read your ad." "Shaking in a good way?" I asked with a smile. "Yes," he said.
"How did you think this would work?" asked Mike. "First, I wanted us to be comfortable with each other," I said. "That, to me, makes it much more natural. And I'm comfortable with you." Again, I smiled as I said it. "I am too," said Mike. "Then I just wanted whatever happened to happen in whatever way it happened." Again, Mike squirmed a little. "You said you've thought about this a lot," I said. "What kind of thoughts go on in your mind?" Mike hesitated again for a few seconds and then--if it was possible--blushed even more. "It's always kind of been what would happen if someone caught me while I was doing it," he said. "Ah, yes," I said. "That's probably more common a thought than either of us are aware of!" "Yeah, at first it would be embarrassing, then it might turn into something else." "That's something I think both of us could get into," I said.
I swore that Mike was shaking a little bit as the reality of the situation he found himself in became more conscious. "What would you like me to do to help get this started?" I asked. Mike took a deep breath. "Would you leave the room for a few minutes and let me get started, then come back in while I was doing it?" he asked sheepishly. "Sure enough," I said. I immediately got up and walked out of the room. "I'll be back in a few minutes," I said.
As soon as I was out of the room, I was aware I had a raging hard-on. I adjusted myself in my jeans to get comfortable, almost not believing that what was happening was happening. In my mind's eye, I could already see what might be going on in the other room, and that thought made ME shiver in anticipation! Mike really didn't make any noise, so I wasn't even sure how far along he was with living out this fantasy, and I tried to figure out what a "few minutes" meant before I went back in to the living room. I waited until I figured he had to be fully involved in beating off, and then--without warning--went back into the room.
I could clearly see Mike in the middle of stroking his cock. His sweatpants and boxerbriefs were around his knees, and he had taken his polo shirt off. As soon as he saw I was in the room, he reacted as one might expect in such a situation by rapidly pulling his pants up. "Hey," I said as I sat down on the couch. "Did I interrupt something?" I figured that would keep the focus on our shared fantasy. Mike couldn't quite get the words out. As I looked at him, his boner was pulsing in his sweatpants--it was difficult NOT to see. "Uhhhh....." he said, not really answering, but reacting as if what had happened had really happened: I had walked in and caught him beating off! I decided to take control of the conversation.
"You don't have to stop because I'm here," I said. "Really?" he said with a convincing reply fully aligned with the fantasy. "Why don't you finish what you started?" I suggested to him. I saw goosebumps on his arms when I said that. Still, he hesitated. "Pull your pants back down and keep on doing what you were doing," I said softly. Mike was compelled. In a flash he pulled his sweatpants and boxerbriefs back down to his knees, his hard college cock fwapping on his stomach, leaving a wet spot that connected to his cock with a string of precum. He continued stroking himself, up and down, up and down. He had a nice cock, maybe a little over six inches long, and cut, with a nicely-shaped head. I could see a compact set of pubes and a slight treasure trail running up to his belly button on a flat stomach. I continued to quietly encourage him. "Yeah, that looks like it feels good. Beat it for me. Oh, man, I know how good that feels. Squeeze it for me. Show me how much you like doing that. Beat your meat for me."
Mike appeared to be in heaven. From my vantage, it was clear his cock was rock hard. His hand was rhythmically pumping up and down as I cooed my encouragement. I began to see copious precum bubble out of his cock, which added the sound of wet stroking to the erotic atmosphere. "Shoot your cum for me," I said. Mike moaned loudly as he continued to stroke. "I want to watch you cum." Soon, his body tensed up. It was clear to me he was approaching his orgasm. His gaze was directly at his hand as it pumped his leaking boner. "Shoot it," I said again. And no sooner had I said that than the first volley of cum shot out of his cock, all the way up to his chin and neck, followed by several spurts covering his chest and stomach. There was so much cum! After a few seconds, the tension in his body began to soften, and his hips, that had been thrusted outward, sank back onto the couch.
I reached over and got the small towel. "Why don't you start with this?" I quietly suggested. "Let me go get another towel." I left Mike as he wiped off his chin and neck. I rushed to my bathroom and grabbed a full-sized towel off the rack, taking it back into the living room and handing it over. Mike took the proffered towel and continued to wipe himself off. Finally, he squeezed his now-mostly-softened cock to ease out a final drop of cum and wiped it off. He looked over at me with a look of completed pleasure. "I'm sorry I interrupted," I said, "but glad I got to see that." Mike shivered again. Then he reached down and pulled up his sweatpants and boxerbriefs. He grabbed his polo shirt off the arm of the couch and pulled it over his head. Then he looked at me and nervously said "is it okay if I go?" "Sure," I said with a reassuring smile.
Mike got up and walked toward the apartment door. Then he stopped and turned around to me. "Is it okay if we do this again sometime?" he asked. "Any time and as many times as you want," I said. "You know where I live." He smiled a charming smile. `Thanks." And he was gone.
I returned to the couch, where I picked up the smaller towel that was totally covered in Mike's recently-shot cum. I could smell it even as I held the towel in my hand. I couldn't help myself. I quickly unzipped and pulled my own raging boner out of my jeans and began stroking. It wasn't long before I aimed my own cock at that jizzy towel and shot another load into it, realizing how erotic this entire scenario had been.
Mike and I became beat-off buddies and he visited many times, sometimes "scheduled" and other times when there was a knock on the door. I'll share some of those experiences in subsequent chapters.