Omar
By Simon Peter
This was during my college years. I was 22, living in the dorms. At the time, I knew that I was sexually attracted to guys, but I always thought of it as a "sickness" to be ignored and fought against. However, my penchant for the male physique couldn't be blocked by social norms widespread at the time. How can you ignore a hot male physique sauntering along the dorm corridor in shorts and nude torso, with hot hairy legs, a smooth dark chest, and a noticeable bulge?
That was Omar.
Omar was one year older than me, a student exchange from the Sudan. He stood around 190 cm tall, slim, with silky black skin, curly hair and a beautifully chiseled face: deep brown eyes, high cheeks, very full sensual lips. Omar, for me, was hot--and I guess for most of the coeds as well!
On the other hand, I was kind of a wimpy, nerdy type of student. I was around 170 cm tall, hairy chest with a trail down to my pubes, skinny (ribs showing), pale skin, and an average face, including the proverbial eyeglasses. No way was I anything close to what Omar looked like. He was a hunk. I was a skinny skeleton in comparison.
Omar had this habit of walking around in hot semi-tight shorts, naked torso, and flip-flops. I used to love watching him as he would visit in his shorts and nude torso. But most of the time, my roommate or some other guy from the floor would be there. The atmosphere was only a one-way charge from my side.
One Saturday evening, warm for this time of year, I decided I needed a shower. The dorm floor was fairly empty since most of the guys were away for the weekend. Our showers were actually one large hall with shower heads and no partitions. For me, taking a shower was usually torture. As much as I would have loved looking at naked guys, wet and soapy, I had two things against me. First, I was a very shy person--still am--who wasn't too happy with my body. Second, I always had to take off my glasses, which meant that all I could see would be fuzzy, what with the steam and all. I would always check whether someone was in the showers and only venture there when the shower hall was empty, which was most of the time after 9 or 10 in the evenings, especially on a Saturday.
I carried my towel, wearing my undershorts, and walked to the shower hall, relieved that it was still empty. I was under the hot water jet, enjoying my shower, lathering my chest and balls, enjoying the feeling of slippery soap around my balls and the base of my dick, which was probably the only thing about my body I was happy with--around 18 cm, cut, erecting right up, pointing to the ceiling as I rubbed slowly up and down the shaft. Everything around me was silent.
Suddenly, I heard someone walk in. Shit. Shit. I turned my back to the entrance to hide my hard-on.
"Hi, Ed," came deep and throaty from behind me.
Oh, fuck, it's Omar. I would recognize his voice anywhere and I remembered that being an exchange student he always stayed in the dorms during weekends.
"Hi, O," I answered, a bit hoarse. I always called him O. It sounded more than friendly, closer. And he liked it.
"I saw you walking in here with your towel, and I thought Ed is right. A shower would be perfect at this time of the evening."
"Ummm... yea," I managed.
I knew I was blushing and was thankful that Omar could not see my face. I turned on the hot water knob to get more steam so he would not be able to see my skinny ass and gawky naked physique. I was sure he thought I was not appealing to look at.
From the corner of my eyes, fuzzily, I saw Omar slipping off his shorts and stepping under the shower head next to mine, turning on the water. Fuck, he was too close. He sighed as the water hit his body. God, how I wished that I could see properly! I hated the fact that I had to wear glasses in order to be able to do so.
But I did make out his beautiful, slim, muscled, satin black body. Of course, I had my body turned sideways to prevent Omar from noticing my erection, which totally refused to listen to my orders for it to go soft. How would I explain an erection to Omar? Or should I? My heart pounded, I thought, too loudly?
"So, Ed, how was your psych mid-term?"
Again the throaty, sexy voice. Fuck. My cock throbbed against my belly. Ed was lathering his chest and underarms as he started the conversation.
"Oh, man," I answered with a quavering voice. "It was the same shit. I hope I pass it. God knows, I studied hard for it."
He laughed. My God! My cock responded. My hole sphincter tightened. Omar and I were showering together, naked, with me stealing fuzzy glances at his oh-so-hot body. I could make out his dick. Christ, it's long, even when soft. But I couldn't really be sure, not without my glasses. Was it my imagination? Was I willing Omar to be hung? How could I tell without glasses and with so much steam? Fuck.
"Hey," Omar said after a while. "Want me to do your back?"
"Umm...," I muttered. Surprised? Shocked? Scared? Oh my God. Cock hardened even more. "Ok, O." I shivered all over in anticipation.
Why did Omar want to scrub my back?
Without looking around, I heard his feet splash in the water on the floor, and then his hands, all soapy, were on my back. The shudder throughout my body was so noticeable that Omar kind of snorted. Jeez, did he notice I was turned on?