The Guest Room (+Audiobook)

Everyone is 18.

Note to readers: Today I've included the full audiobook of this chapter. Feel free to give feedback in the comments section: love it, hate it, needs a tweak for your preferences, etc. This will act as a preview (and beta test) of an upcoming Audio Tier, which is currently in the works (still tweaking the voice). Stay tuned, and enjoy! Cheers.

Chapter 1: The New Addition

It wasn’t supposed to be permanent. That’s what my mom said, anyway.

“He just needs a place to stay while his dad figures things out,” she told me, like it wasn’t going to totally screw up my life.

Riley was… fine. We weren’t friends exactly, but we’d known each other forever. His dad and mine were tight before the divorce, so we’d had enough Thanksgivings and lake trips together to pretend we were close. He had one of those personalities that made people orbit him — louder than necessary, always barefoot, always with that smug half-smile like he knew you were watching him.

He moved in with two duffel bags and a pair of headphones glued to his ears. Took the guest room at first, then drifted onto the living room couch, then — for some reason — started leaving his crap in my room.

Socks. Always socks. Sweaty, used, curled up in the corner like a damp pile of pure teen guy smell. The dense aroma clung to the room, and no matter how many times I chucked them back at him, they kept reappearing. I would kick them across the hall into his room, or throw them at him when he wasn’t looking, and he would just chuckle and smirk.

He was casual about his body in a way I wasn’t used to. Towel too low. Shirt rarely on. Once, I walked in and he was stretching in front of the mirror, not even bothering to cover the morning wood that was sticking out the top of his boxer briefs, held tight by the waistband against his firm abs. He caught my eye in the reflection and smirked, then casually pulled his dick out and gave it a shake, like he was testing gravity.

It was huge.

I froze, some mix of disbelief and — yeah — anger flickering in my chest before I could stop it. He was literally showing off that he had a big dick, and I was just sitting there taking it. As much as any teen guy could talk shit about another guy’s dick, no one was ever actually whipping it out to prove what they were packing. But, he transcended accepted boundaries in a way that was both shocking and rage-inducing. The head of his dong was literally the size of a kiwi fruit. He just laughed and put it away, though it still jutted forward and to the left, in an obscene bulge in his underwear. He walked past me, brushing my shoulder with his as he went.

The line was crossed.

Every time Riley left his socks on my floor or stole my last protein bar, I kept a subconscious score. Every time he walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel slung dangerously low, rocking a half hard bulge and a grin that said I know you can see it, my brain logged it like ammo.

I waited until I heard the water running one morning, when my mom had already left for work. A long, comfortable hum rang through the pipes. He always took long showers. Cocky ones. I knew he was a bathroom jerker, based on the fact that he would wear airpods going into the bathroom, and the water would start quickly, but then his music wouldn’t start for a few minutes until he went in. Clear signs to another teen male that he had business that required headphones before he actually showered. Once he finally got in the shower, he would play music through the Bluetooth speaker, singing just loud enough to believe no one else could hear.

So I planned a little shower prank, nothing too crazy. Just a classic cold water, towel swap. 

When I heard the music start, and the shower door slid closed, I crept in, washcloth in hand. I could see his nude body through the frosted shower glass, soaping up his dumb, athletic body, his big cock still hard from the jerk sesh. Seeing him nude again reinvigorated my drive for this prank.

First move: I stole his towel and swapped it for the tiny dish rag I brought in. Left it hanging on the doorknob like a gift. 

Next, I went under the sink to our plumbing access, and turned off the hot water. My dad had taught me all this stuff years ago. Didn’t need it until today. The water would rapidly become cold in only a few seconds. The yell from behind the frosted shower door was music.

Then I bolted to the hallway.

He came running out a few seconds later, soaked, furious, holding the washcloth over himself like it was a joke and I was the punchline. His big, floppy cock wasn’t even contained by the washcloth, hanging down between his bulky thighs, dripping water right off the large head of it.

“You bitch!” he shouted, dripping all over the tile, but he was actually laughing at the same time. Nothing ever really gets to him deeply.

I couldn’t even think of what to say, this wet, naked dude in my hallway couldn’t really be affected in the same way that he had tormented me. He had athletic, big dick confidence, and he was happy with life. Still, I had won this one, whatever it was.

“Have a nice wank in there?” Stupid, but it suited the situation.

He glared at me. Then, we laughed — hard — but I could tell it lit a fire in him. That smile he gave me wasn’t one of defeat. It was a warning.

–[]–

He waited a full day before retaliating.

I didn’t expect him to get me back like he did. He waited until I fell asleep on the couch. Climbed on top of the armrest, leaned over me, and dropped his bare ass right on my face. He pressed down firmly, cutting off my breathing, and I woke up confused and trying to draw a breath, but all I sucked in was his muscular ass. His big, squishy, hairless balls blocked my nose and his big cock was plopped onto my eye.

I woke up choking, gagging, shoving him off as he collapsed laughing onto the floor.

The “wars” as he called them, had begun. And I couldn’t tell if I hated it… or if part of me wanted to lose.

The next time he got me, I had not even retaliated yet for his last offensive. I should’ve seen it coming, honestly. I let myself get too comfortable.

It was late. I was in bed, scrolling through my phone, half-asleep, half scratching my balls and contemplating whether or not I was going to jerk off before I slept. I had my airpods in. and I didn’t even hear him come in. Just felt the sudden weight on the bed, the blanket shift — and then a pressure, soft and undeniably human, pressed against my cheek.

His bare cock, rock hard and as big as a baguette.

I let out a strangled noise and thrashed, trying to shove him off, but he had the advantage — already laughing, already gone, sprinting out of my room like a feral, naked animal bouncing back to his side of the hall.

I sat up, stunned, half-horrified and half… laughing? That was the problem. I was starting to enjoy the game a bit. The lines were gone. And we both knew it.

Something changed after the dick-on-the-face prank, even if neither of us ever spoke about this rivalry going on.

He was quieter the next day. Not in a bad way — just… different. Still cocky, still cracking jokes, but with a watchfulness behind his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Like he was reading me for signs. Like he was wondering if I was going to react.

And I didn’t. Not in the way he probably expected.

I treated him plainly throughout the day, as I normally would, getting him to let down his guard. Make him think I was just as ready to laugh about his dominating pranks as he was. Let him get comfortable.

That night, we both ended up in the living room. A late movie. Shared blanket. Legs stretched toward opposite ends of the couch, knees bumping every once in a while. It wasn’t cold, but neither of us moved to lose the blanket.

He smelled like soap. Still damp from his second shower of the day. It must have been the only place he had a wank for some reason. Some guys are just like that. I caught the scent of his shampoo — minty and sharp — underneath the usual laundry detergent and something warm, almost musky. Familiar in a way I didn’t want to admit.

At some point, he shifted and his foot ended up pressed against my thigh, then slowly pushed up until it was pressing my taint and balls. The sensation gave me a weird boner. I mean, no one had ever touched me there, so even though it was a dude, I was still going to have a physical response. I looked at him, only to find that he had fallen asleep, and simply shifted as one does when they’ve drifted off. 

Now was my chance. Under the blanket, careful not to shift too much and wake him, I pulled my man pole out of my sweats. I was watching his face intently to make sure he didn’t wake up, as I started stroking. He was going to hate this, I hoped. In the adrenaline of the moment, I was ready to cum in less than a minute, and as soon as I was at the edge, I jumped up, put my knees on either side of his chest, and aimed my thick rod right at his face. 

He jolted awake instantly, saw my cock and started laughing hysterically. He appreciated the prank. Ok, I thought. 

Right before I started to cum, he started making loud, ironic pornstar sounds. “Oh yeah baby, gimme that cum!” He opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, releasing a thickly sardonic “huhhhhh”.

I squirted the first rope straight up his face, across his nose, eye and into his hair, some of it dropping right onto his tongue. He flinched, shocked, literally agasp.

“Oh shit what the fuck!” he yelled as he started to shove me off. My superior position let me stay on top of him until I had delivered another few shots straight to his face, before he finally got me pressed onto my back, cackling at the hilarity of his face covered in my cum.

“You bitch!” he shouted, but to my amazement he continued laughing through the whole encounter. Even this was actually funny to him. I continued stroking as my orgasm peaked and faded, while he socked me in the arm about thirty percent as hard as it would take to hurt.

“I can’t believe you actually did that. I thought you were just boner-checking me!” he finally exclaimed.

I was out of breath from the laughter and the energy of what I had just done, so I just pulled my sweats up over my cock and let my juices settle where they were. 

“You deserved it,” I said as my lips stayed curled.

He finally got up off of me and started wiping his face. “I cannot… I… wow…”

Even through the humiliation of taking a load to his face, he couldn’t suppress his big smile. It was clear he appreciated that I could bite back, even escalate.

“You are,” he started, “you’re… gonna get it for that bro.” He left for the bathroom.

And I heard the shower starting.