Told My Roommate When He Could Cum 02

Everyone is 18 or older and fully consenting.

Chapter 2: Showers

The next morning, we followed the same routine as always. Alarms, gym gear, the quiet rhythm of two guys who had gotten used to moving through mornings together. But something had shifted beneath the surface. There was a tension that I found sort of pleasant. Something cool and new existed between us.

Over the next few days, he didn’t bring up jerking off again. Not out loud. But I could tell it was starting to build inside him. When he sat on his bed before lights out, his hands would linger just a second too long in his waistband. He’d scratch his balls with a little too much focus. His breathing would get faster when he scrolled instagram and saw the thots.

He was starting to crack around the edges. Restless. Quietly desperate.

It was clear. The clock had been ticking. He needed release again. But, in a different way, so did I.

The next morning, after the gym, I told him to wait for me by the lockers, naked. He stood there like it was nothing, towel slung over his shoulder but not even pretending to use it. His body caught my eye, seeing his tight ass and his monster cock hanging down. He had actual lines of masculinity built in his form now. A few weeks ago, he was just a scrawny, slouching mess. But now, there was actual definition. His shoulders were broader, his biceps had shape, and even his chest looked proud. His V-line had arrived to point to his monster cock.

He was catching up. Fast.

And it was wild to see, because I’d spent years building mine. I honestly looked like a Greek statue. My body was carved by a few years of discipline and self-control. And now here he was, my apprentice, still soft around the edges but unmistakably growing into something awesome. He's already perfect the way he is, I thought to myself, all he needed was a little push.

He was still new, still figuring it out. But I couldn’t help but feel proud. Proud that I was the reason he was standing there looking like that.

I walked up behind him and leaned into his ear. "New rule. You can't touch any part of your body with your hands while we're in this building... and I'll do the same."

He turned slightly, confused. "How am I supposed to shower?"

"I guess we'll figure it out," I said, heading for the shower stalls and leaving it at that.

I removed my towel, stepped into my stall and turned on the water. The hot spray hit my chest and shoulders. I reached for the soap with my elbow and just stood there for a second, chuckling to myself.

From beneath the divider wall, I saw his feet shuffle as he entered the next stall. There was a pause, then the sound of body wash being pumped out. A moment later, his feet shifted again. I could imagine him just standing there, dripping with soap, trying to figure out how to wash himself without using his hands. He didn’t say anything. Just stood frozen in place, clearly flustered.

A full minute went by.

Then I saw his feet step back. And without a word, they moved toward my stall.

He slipped in quickly, standing right in front of me, already damp and looking a bit unsure.

He had figured it out. If neither of us could wash ourselves, the only option left was to wash each other.

We faced each other, letting the warm water soak us down. Then, without speaking, he reached out and started running his soapy hands across my chest. I watched his cock start to pulse slightly upward, and I reached a soapy hand out to his chest. It was deliberate, slow, and a little clumsy at first. We both laughed under our breath, even as our hands went lower.

We had never touched each other before. Just the usual stuff, bro hugs, shoulder bumps, the casual, physical connection of roommates and teammates.

After everything that had been building between us, and jerking off together that one day, this didn't feel weird or out of place. It felt like the natural next step. Something unspoken we had already agreed to in a hundred quiet glances. We had shared routines, silence, tension, and now we were sharing touch.

It didn’t even feel like crossing a line. It felt more like arriving at something that we had both been waiting for.

His touch was firm but careful, and mine was too. When I reached his waist, I hesitated for a second, then kept going. He was already mostly hard. He didn't flinch when I ran my soapy hand down its length and squeezed the tip. I could feel it pulse in my palm as I washed him. I looked up and found him staring at my eyes, mouth slightly open, his eyes saying something like, thank you for this. As we moved, his massive cock kept swinging between us, slapping against me every so often like it had a mind of its own. It wasn't even on purpose. That thing just had its own orbit.

I looked at him, smirking. "You wanna know a secret?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"I jerk off in here every day," I said.

He looked a little shocked, like he didn’t know whether to laugh or ask if I was serious. But instead, he just reached down and grabbed my dick.

I stared at him for a second, then reached down and gripped his firmly. We stood chest to chest, the water pouring down over both of us, our hands beginning to move in sync.

Neither of us said anything. The steam around us made everything feel private, even though it was anything but. The risk of someone walking in and seeing that there were two sets of feet in the stall was real, but it only made it more intense.

His breathing picked up first. Then mine followed. Our arms brushed. Our chests rose and fell, faster and faster. His grip was firm, his rhythm easy. I matched him without even thinking. We were fully jerking each other off, right there under the water, fully lost in the moment. 

We started humping into each other, still gripping each other's dicks, our bodies slick with soap and water. The heat between us was getting kind of crazy. It felt like I was fucking him.

I came suddenly. It hit fast and sharp, like a surge of pleasure ran up my body. My jizz streaked across both our torsos, white against the sheen of water before it was rinsed away. I let out a heavy breath and tightened my grip on his cock as I rode the wave of it.

He rubbed my still-hard dick against his abs, and I flinched from the sensitivity. It felt overwhelming, but I didn’t want him to stop. He let go gently, but my dick stayed rock hard, pulsing between us, like it wasn’t ready to rest yet. 

Something inside me shifted. He had been so good. So consistent. Obedient in the way that came from trust, not fear. He had changed so much, and not just in how he looked. His whole energy had evolved. He moved with confidence, kept to a routine, kept up with me. And I couldn’t deny that he was benefiting from it all. Physically, mentally, even emotionally. He had earned something.

I felt it in my chest first. A weird, warm pressure of pride mixed with emotions. I felt tender toward him. It was an intense feeling.

So, I did something impulsive.

I reached for the conditioner, squirted a generous amount into my hand, and gently spread it over his giant cock. It twitched in my grip, slick and heavy.

Then I turned around, placed both hands against the tiled wall, and said without looking back, "You can fuck me if you want."

I just kept my hands against the wall and waited. The hot water cascaded over my back as I turned my head slowly to glance at him.

His face was frozen in disbelief, like this was the last thing he ever expected me to offer. Mouth slightly open, brows raised. He looked like he was questioning if he had heard me right.

I gave him a small smirk. "You can go for it, bro," I said, keeping my voice low and even. "I've put a finger or two up there over the years."

He stepped toward me, cautiously, like he was still trying to believe this was real. His hand landed on my hip, warm and steady, and he leaned into me gently. He started slow, running his fingertips along the curve of my ass before slipping one between my cheeks.

The first finger slid in with surprising ease, and I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Then a second finger. Then, after a pause and a little more pressure, a third. He took his time, working me open.

It actually felt amazing.

I played with my nipples, slow and steady, just trying to breathe through the nerves and intensity. When he saw me doing it, he reached up and took over, gently circling them with his fingers like he knew exactly what I needed.

When he placed the head of his dick against my hole, I flinched. I was afraid it was too large to take inside me, but I knew for a fact that he had fucked girls, and it made me think I could do this too, if I tried hard enough. My body tightened up in resistance, instinct taking over. But I wanted this to happen. 

He didn’t rush it. He pressed forward carefully, and I exhaled, forcing myself to relax. I kept one hand on the wall and wrapped the other around my hard cock to keep myself ready, jerking slowly as the pressure inside me built. The stretch was insane, but I let it happen, one breath at a time.

Every few seconds, he’d reach around and stroke me, from base to tip, like he was checking in. Like he wanted to make sure I was still with him. 

He started thrusting and I could feel him really get into it. His pace picked up, his body tighter with every movement. I reached back, grabbing his hip, and without hesitation, he slid his hand into mine. We locked fingers.

That hand holding hit harder than anything else. It was grounding. Honest. Even more intimate than the penetration. Like we were quietly connecting.

Then he started slamming into me with more force, his hips driving forward, the wet sound of skin on skin mixing with the hiss of the shower. I let out little gasps, pushing back against him, riding every surge.

His body locked up. Just froze. And I felt it. That deep pulsing stretch as he came inside me.

He pulled out and looked like the happiest guy in the world. My ass was sore as hell, but it felt kind of empty in a way. I already missed being stuffed. His chest rose and fell like he’d just run a mile, but his eyes were soft and satisfied.

I smiled back at him as I turned around, my own boner pressing out in front of me, still hard. Without saying a word, he dropped to his knees. It felt more like a thank-you. Like he was saying, you deserve this.

He wrapped one hand around the back of my thigh and took me all the way into his mouth. The warmth, the pressure, the intensity of the moment was all too much. I came almost instantly, groaning as I held his head gently, my legs bracing against the slick tile.

He stood up a second later, eyes watery from gagging, but smiling. He looked at me for a beat, then reached for the back of my head and pulled me into a kiss. His warm tongue was so soft against mine, I wanted to stay in there forever. We made out slowly, our bodies still buzzing from everything we had done.

I felt him getting hard again as our hips pressed together. We started grinding into each other, slow at first, then more hungrily, the heat building again.

Then he suddenly pulled back, wide-eyed.

"Oh shit," he said. "We've been in here forever. I have to go to class."

I smiled at that. "Got get 'em, buddy."