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I don’t quite know how I got here, but here I am.

I’m half drunk and so is my college roommate. We’re both buck naked. And we’ve both got our cocks in our hands.

It’s a competition over who can shoot the furthest.

If I think hard enough, I could figure out how I got into this situation. I’ve had a crush on my straightish roommate for a while now and had dropped several hints that I was interested. He’d told me a couple nights ago that he was heteroflexible and that he’d go for a guy if the mood was right. In our low-key Friday night drinks, celebrating the end of exams, I kept trying to figure out how to get things in motion.

Somehow, for reasons I don’t quite get, a jerk off competition was what finally worked. We’d cleared the coffee table, just throwing everything to the floor, and we whipped our dicks out.

I was already semi-hard, being around Jon did that to me. I was surprised, pleasantly so, to find that Jon had been in a similar state of tumescence.

And here we are. Jerking.

It doesn’t take me long to reach orgasm and shoot my wad. My hot, white cum streaks halfway across the coffee table, creating lines at least a couple feet long. I might’ve jerked off at this table once when I was alone and so I know that I’m capable of shooting farther, but this is still impressive.

I glance over at Jon and he seems to be having trouble reaching orgasm. He’s biting his bottom lip and jerking furiously, but he keeps looking at me. Perhaps it’s my semi-drunkenness or perhaps I’m reading cues on a subconscious level, but I reach back and stroke his ass. With that simple touch, his eyes roll back in his head and he groans as cum shoots from him.

Fuck, his shots are powerful. They easily stretch past mine.

He groans and opens his eyes. I’ve taken my hand back already and neither of us acknowledge where it had been moments ago.

“You lost,” he says with a cocky grin.

“I did…” I say. To be honest, I’m not disappointed. I got to see his cock, got to touch his ass, and, well, there’s always the “embarrassing” humiliation that the loser has to endure. I don’t even need him to prompt me to do the loser’s task.

I lower my body and start lapping up all the cum. 

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I sat nervously in the examination room, waiting for the doctor. This was the last place I wanted to be, the last person I wanted to talk to, and the last problem I wanted to discuss…but it had to be done. I didn’t think my relationship would survive if I didn’t get this sorted.

Before I could have a full-on anxiety attack and run out of the room, the door rattled and the doctor came in. Oh, fuck. This was not my regular doctor. This one was hot like a porn star—daddy vibes with a hard chest and fur poking through the top of his shirt collar. I could already feel my dick thickening up.

He sat down at the desk and unlocked his computer. “Peter?” he said, reading my name off the chart. I nodded. “What can I do for you?”

My cheeks felt burning hot and I knew I had to be bright red with a blush. “I, uh…um…” Then I chuckled nervously. “Sorry, it’s embarrassing.”

The doctor—Dr. Scott, his nametag read—leaned back casually in his office chair. “There’s nothing embarrassing in here, son.” His pants stretched tight across his broad thighs and thick bulge. 

I managed to tear my eyes away from his crotch before it became obvious I was staring. Fuck, I needed to just get this out. I looked away from him and then blurted out, “My boyfriend can’t penetrate me. I’m too tight.”

There was a moment of silence between us and for a moment I thought he’d laugh or tell me to get the hell out. Instead, he leaned forward. “Have you been penetrated before?”

I shook my head. “He’s my first boyfriend. I’m only twenty.”

He chuckled, but it was a reassuring chuckle. “We can check that out and see what we can do.” He stood up and pulled on that roll of paper at the end of the examination table, laying out coverage for me. “Drop your pants and get up here, preferably on your hands and knees.”

“Um…okay,” I said. I stood and very nervously pulled off my pants and briefs. My cock was already at half-mast, hanging thick and heavy between my legs. When I turned around, I caught him staring at me and his gaze was drawn directly to my dick, but then he quickly looked away. He patted the examination table and I climbed up, propping myself up on my hands and knees. I realized that this was the position I took when my boyfriend tried to fuck me. I liked to think of it as the “begging for it” pose. Fuck, that was making my cock thicken even more.

Dr. Scott pulled on a pair of latex gloves and squired some lube on a finger. “I’m going to try first with a finger and see what we get.”

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I follow the guy into his bedroom, eyeing his ass in those tight jeans. I don’t normally hook up with daddy-types on Grindr, but something about this dude is making me hard. He turns around and sits on his bed, giving me a sly grin. I immediately fall to my knees in front of him and grab the zipper on his fly, yanking it down. I need to get to that daddy-cock.

“Whoa,” he says, placing a hand on top of mine. “What’s the rush?”

“It’s sex,” I say, sort of confused by his hesitation. “Get off and get out, you know.”

He wraps his fingers around my hand, holding me tight. “I thought we’d kiss a bit, enjoy the moment.”

“I don’t kiss,” I say. “Kissing is for lovers — this is just a hook-up.”

He chuckles and I get a surge of irritation. If I had known he wanted a boyfriend, I would’ve hooked up with someone else. He pulls me to my feet, then has me sit next to him on the bed. I can’t help but let out a sigh of frustration. I want to eat his load, not kiss his lips.

He doesn’t let go of my hand and we end up just holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. He’s attractive, I’ll give him that. And his charm on Grindr was what had won me over. I guess I can indulge him, if only just for a few moments.

Not letting go of my hand, he puts his other hand on the back of my head and slowly pulls me toward him. Our lips press together and he starts to kiss me. I don’t want to be like a dead fish to him, so I kiss him back. He moans softly into my mouth and that sound of pleasure, that burst of warm air of him sighing into my mouth, seems to turn something in me … something … I wasn’t sure what.

With my free hand, I reach up and caress his chest, feeling his muscle through his shirt. Soon, I move my hand up to the back of his head, holding him the way he’s holding me, and I kiss him passionately. It feels unnatural, at first, but the more I do it, the more I get into it.

He nibbles on my bottom lip and I moan just like he had done. He nudges me backward and I fall down on the bed, breaking our kiss for a moment, making me desperate for his closeness again. I almost whimper in need, but then he lies next to me and rolls onto me, propping himself up with his hands. He presses his lips against mine and suddenly that warmth and connection is back. I open my mouth and let him slip his tongue inside. I caress his tongue with mine, feeling the velvety softness, tasting the beer he’d had before I came over.

As he kisses me, he starts to grind his hips against mine, rubbing his bulge over my bulge, bringing me a surge of pleasure that only kicks the passion of our kiss into overdrive. I wrap both my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, locking myself onto him and not letting go — I can’t let him go.

But then he grabs my hands from around his neck and forces them down to the bed above my head. I whimper, desperate to have my limbs locked around him again, but then he presses into me — hard. My wrists are pinned to the bed and he puts more of his weight on me, bringing us even closer together. As our bodies rub together, I can feel everything through our clothing — his cock, his balls, and his hard nipples. And every brush of friction brings a new electric tingle of pleasure to my body … pleasure I had never experienced before.

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