Roommate Worship 8

Everyone in this story is 18+

“Come on, man. You’ve been skipping the gym for weeks,” Wes said, tossing me a water bottle as he tightened the strap of his gym bag. He was already dressed for the occasion in a fitted tank top that hugged his chest and a pair of gym shorts that left little to the imagination.

I groaned from the couch, pulling my hoodie tighter around me. “Wes, you know I’m not a gym guy.”

“Yeah, but you’re my guy,” he said with a smirk, grabbing my arm and hauling me up. “And that means you’re coming with me.”

Reluctantly, I found myself tagging along, dragging my feet as Wes strode into the gym with the confidence of someone who practically lived there. He flashed a grin at the receptionist, fist-bumped a couple of guys near the free weights, and immediately claimed a bench near the mirrors.

I tried to stay in the background, sticking to the treadmill and pretending to look busy, but I couldn’t help sneaking glances at Wes. His muscles flexed with every movement, the thin fabric of his tank top doing nothing to hide the sheen of sweat that built up as he moved from one exercise to the next. He caught me staring a couple of times, flashing me a knowing grin that made my cheeks burn.

“Alright,” Wes called after a particularly intense set of bench presses, his chest heaving as he wiped his face with a towel. “Enough hiding. Come spot me.”

I hesitated but shuffled over, standing awkwardly behind him as he adjusted the weights. “What do I even do?” I asked, eyeing the loaded barbell.

“Just stand there and look pretty,” Wes teased, sliding under the bar. “And maybe catch this if I screw up.”

He started lifting, his biceps bulging with the effort. The smell of his sweat—salty and earthy, mixed with the faint scent of his body wash—hit me like a fucking freight train. My stomach tightened, and I felt my body react in ways that were wholly inappropriate for a public gym.

“Eyes up here, Dakota,” Wes said with a chuckle, his voice slightly strained as he racked the bar. He sat up, grabbing his towel and dabbing at his chest. “You’re drooling.”

“Am not,” I muttered, but my face betrayed me, burning with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Wes stood, tossing the towel aside. “You’re so into this, huh? The whole sweaty gym bro thing?”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but he cut me off, stepping closer until we were chest to chest. “Go on,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You know you want to.”

My breath caught as he leaned in, his body heat radiating against me. I glanced around nervously, but the gym was quiet, most people focused on their own routines. Wes smirked, his hand sliding under my chin to tilt my face up to his.

“Lick it,” he murmured, nodding toward his chest. “I wanna feel that tongue.”

I hesitated for only a second before leaning in, my lips brushing against the slick skin of his pec. The taste of his sweat—salty, musky, undeniably him—made my head spin. I dragged my tongue across his chest, savoring every drop as Wes groaned softly above me.

“Good boy,” he muttered, his fingers tangling in my hair as I worked my way up to his neck, then back down to his abs. “You’re so fucking into this, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, my voice shaky. “I can’t help it.”

Wes laughed, low and rough. “Then let’s see how far you’ll go.”

Before I could process what was happening, he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the locker room. My heart pounded as he pushed open the door, leading me to the farthest stall. The second the door closed behind us, Wes spun me around, pressing me against the cold tile wall.

“You’re such a tease, you know that?” he growled, his hands sliding under my hoodie to grab my hips. “Getting me all worked up out there.”

“Wes,” I gasped, my body trembling as he pressed his hard cock against my sweaty ass. “We’re gonna get caught.”

“Let them hear,” he said, his voice dripping with lust. “I don’t care.”

He tugged down my shorts and boxers in one swift motion, his hands gripping my bare ass as he kissed the back of my neck. I felt him line up, the heat of his cock pressing against me as he whispered in my ear, “You ready?”

“Do it,” I said, my voice barely audible. “Please.”

He pushed in slowly, his grip on my hips tightening as he filled me. I felt the soreness from his heavy use of my hole but it was drowned out by the sheer heat of the moment. Wes moved with a mix of force and control, his thrusts deep and controlled as his moans filled the small stall.

“Fuck, Dakota,” he groaned, his hands sliding up to my shoulders. “You feel so fucking good. So tight, my tight little roomie.”

I could barely think, my body arching against him as he picked up the pace, his movements turning faster and heavier. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the tiles, mixing with the sharp breaths and broken moans we couldn’t hold back.

“You’re mine,” Wes growled, his voice rough. “You know that, right? This ass, this body—it’s all mine.”

“Yes,” I gasped, clutching at the wall for support. “I’m yours, only yours.”

“Yes, Dakota, yes, shit. You’re driving me crazy!” he almost shouted, his voice raw and echoing through the small stall. At that point, I didn’t care if anyone heard. Hell, I wanted them to know. Wes wasn’t just taking me—he was full-on claiming me.

Before I could catch my breath, his strong hands gripped my waist, effortlessly pulling me up onto my feet. I felt weightless in his hold, his strength both thrilling and grounding. He spun me around to face him, his chest heaving, his lips slightly parted as he drank me in. His cock, still hard and glistening with my ass juices, jutted up proudly between us, glimmering under the harsh fluorescent lights.

Wes backed up a step and sat on the toilet lid like it was a throne, spreading his legs wide and gripping his shaft with one hand. His eyes bore into mine, full of heat and hunger. “Spit on it,” he commanded, his voice rough and steady. “I wanna feel how much you want it.”

I swallowed hard, my body responding to the sheer authority in his tone. Slowly, I leaned forward, letting a thick string of spit fall from my lips onto his cock. It mixed with the slickness already coating him, dripping down to his hand as he stroked himself, the sound lewd and intoxicating.

“Good boy,” Wes murmured, his free hand reaching out to grab my hip. “Now come here.”

I stepped forward, my legs shaky but eager. Straddling him, I felt the heat of his body, the solid press of his thighs beneath me, and the unmistakable weight of his cock rubbing against my entrance. He guided me with ease, his hand steadying me as I sank down onto him, inch by inch, until he was fully buried inside me again.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the stall wall as his hands gripped my hips. “You’re perfect, Dakota my toy. So fucking perfect.”

I couldn’t respond—words were lost to me. All I could do was move, rolling my hips against him, the angle sending shocks of pleasure through both of us. Wes’s fingers dug into my skin, his breaths coming fast and shallow as he thrust up to meet me.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his voice rough and needy. “I’m so close. You’re gonna make me fucking lose it.”

Wes’s grip tightened, his thrusts growing rabbit like. The toilet creaked under the strain, and with one particularly hard movement, the toilet cracked slightly from the water pipe, water spraying everywhere.

“Shit,” Wes muttered, laughing breathlessly, but he didn’t stop. If anything, the chaos only seemed to spur him on. He kept thrusting, his cock driving into me with reckless abandon as water pooled around our feet.

His hands gripped my hips tighter, his movements turning almost frantic as he chased his orgasm. Each thrust sent sparks shooting through me, and I pushed back against him, my body trembling with the intensity.

With a load groan, Wes buried himself as deep as he could, his cock pulsing as he filled my insides. I could feel the warmth of his semen flooding me, his body trembling against mine as he rode out the waves of his orgasm. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, and for a moment, we both just stood there, the water spraying around us and the world outside the stall forgotten.

Finally, Wes let out a breathless laugh, his lips brushing against my ear. “Guess we broke another furniture.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation breaking through the haze of pleasure. “You’re insane,” I said, my voice shaky.

“We’re insane,” he said, pulling me close and pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “But you love it.”

God help me, I did.

Wes’s hair was plastered to his forehead, droplets running down his face and over his flushed chest. I reached up to push my own wet hair out of my eyes, only to pause as he tilted my chin up.

Wes leaned in, closing the small distance between us. His lips found mine in a clumsy, unromantic kiss, the taste of sweat and water filling my senses. A stray spray of water from the broken pipe hit us squarely in the face, and I sputtered into his mouth. We both pulled back, laughing like idiots as the water continued to soak us.

“Was that toilet water?” I asked, half-groaning.

“From the pipe, not the bowl,” Wes said with a shrug. “We’re fine.”

“Still disgusting.”

“Yeah, but now you can say we shared the grossest kiss ever,” he said with a wink, pulling me closer.

We were still laughing when we heard the faint sound of voices from outside the locker room.

“Shit! Not again!” The receptionist’s exasperated voice echoed through the space.

“Fuck, we got toilet fuckers again?” another voice chimed in, clearly irritated. “What’s wrong with people? This is a gym!”

Wes and I looked at each other, wide-eyed for half a second before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. I doubled over, leaning into him for support as he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

“We’re gonna be legends,” Wes said between gasps for air, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

“Or banned for life,” I added, still shaking with laughter.

“Yeah, but totally worth it,” he said, pulling me into a wet, messy hug with his dick still inside me..

And honestly? He wasn’t wrong.