We had got drunk together numerous times, as part of a group, and just us I suppose, once or twice, he'd crashed at mine as well, a few times, came back for some chilli, a floor space. He was sort of funny, a little older than me, smart, he lived miles away. Once we were at mine, a room in a shared house, we were sitting on my bed, and he started to stroke my back, sort of, affectionately, drunkenly, just stroking the backs of his fingers up and down, I let him, not to make a scene, it didn't bother me much, then he turned his hand, I felt his fingers on my side, through my shirt, until the movie ended.
I suppose I knew he was hoping I would reciprocate, in some way. He did, also, I still let him, he let his other hand rest on my thigh, and stay there, and just, gently enough, squeeze, sort of, affectionately, drunkenly, stroke, massage my inner thigh, I felt him move up, I was watching the film, sort of engrossed in it, he gently stroked my thigh, moving up, and, okay, I felt his hand touch me, so softly, accidentally I thought, but I felt the slight pressure of his hand on my cock, the side of his thumb, he straightened it, rubbing over the surface, the length of me. I still waited for the movie to end. When I could get up, and brush my teeth. He didn't do anything else. I might have looked, glanced between his legs, and noticed that the slight bulge there might have increased. I thought, I suppose I realised he had a hard-on, the beginnings of one. I put it into different words: his cock had become stiff.
I think the next day, when we woke up, Saturday morning maybe, he was standing up after having slept in a sleeping bag on the floor, and casually asked why men had erections in the morning. I looked, he had one, protruding from under his briefs.
I said I didn't know. I might have said something about dreams, or full bladders. But I think I looked, I more than glanced, at the long and thick looking arc bulging from under the tight grey cotton, at the shape of it, the wide and curved protrusion, I was sure I could make out some small ridges, the long soft tube of a vein, it bent to the side, down to his thigh, I could see the shape of his glans at the end, the large oval of his swollen tip. He stepped about my room, unaware I was looking, or not caring, still just in his underwear, still with an obviously engorged cock stretching, pressing outwards against the thin material of his pants. I asked if he wanted a shower, if he wanted to borrow a towel. He said he did.
I got out of my bed, walked to my chest of drawers to see if I could dig out a fresh towel. As I did I saw him looking, standing, glancing down at my crotch. I handed him a towel. I knew, but I looked anyway. I followed his gaze, to my own groin, down to the bulge my own hard cock was making in my own briefs. Looser than his pair, my stiff penis was sticking out almost horizontally. I'd got an erection, my cock had become hard. We faced each other, saying nothing, both looking at the other's bulging prick.
"You're okay if I use the shower then?"
"Sure, go for it."
"Brilliant, cheers."
Before I realised what he was doing he had thrown the towel over his shoulder, bent and whipped his underwear off., tossing onto his small pile of clothes. I couldn't help but look down as he did, as he stripped naked, in my bedroom, and stood before me, his half hard penis jumping up as it was freed from his pants, springing up away from his leg, outwards, straightening and stiffening. I looked. I looked away. But I looked, and, well, I reacted, I felt my own cock pulse and tremble at the sight of his swaying stiffly, solidly in front of him. He turned at the door. And faced me again, still naked, the towel still over his shoulder.
"You showering?"
I looked again, at his bare body, his tight slim hairy body, the dark thatch of pubic hair, I took in the tight pouch of his balls, and the long swinging rail of his thick cock, pointing out, not up, but certainly out, unquestionably in a state of arousal, his foreskin tight, the glistening purse of his urethra just visible, swaying, hanging hard and heavy. It was an invitation. I knew, I felt my cock react, my stomach. Despite my physical reaction though, which I ignored.
"Huh? Yeah, you go first, I'm alright for a bit."
And he turned and walked through the door to the bathroom, showing me his bare ass, his small firm smooth ass. I imagined him walking past housemates, I imagined my female friends opening their doors and seeing a naked man, with a full swollen cock leaving my room, I imagined what they'd think, that we'd fucked? That I'd had that hard penis in my mouth, that I'd sucked it, and had him take me in his mouth, that we'd sucked each other to orgasm? That I'd had that man's cock in my tight little ass, perhaps that I'd then fucked him, that I'd held my moistened tip to his soft anus and slid my stiff cock inside him, his asshole closing tight around my thick stem?
I let him go shower. But as soon as he was gone I stood in front of my floor length mirror, and whipped my own pants down, and let my own prick spring free. I looked at myself, at my hardening rising penis, I let it grow, without touching it, I watched myself get harder, longer, thicker, until I was standing again in front of this mirror, completely and wonderfully erect, and held it, I gripped my stiff penis and stroked it, and looked at myself and masturbated, fast, and hard, but with such sudden shocking pleasure. I stared at my bouncing shaking testicles, wrapped and held in the tight skin of my scrotum, at the exposure and obscuring of my tender swollen tip, already slippery wet, already alive with impending climax, I knew it wouldn't take long, I felt it rise from my feet, through my legs, consuming, controlling me, my cock filled, I pulled my foreskin back, I let my orgasm fill me, I imagined him looking, next to me, naked, hard, the sudden image of reaching and holding his erect cock consumed me, pushing him onto a bed and kissing his hard penis, taking his smooth tip inside my mouth, fuck, I started to come thinking of my mouth filling with his, his cock dancing and spurting, warm cum flooding my mouth, as I reached critical mass, as I pass the point of being able to stop the door opens, he is standing, still naked, stiff half erect, now able to see me naked, and completely erect, with my hand stroking my bare cock, my wet glans exposed, as I start to ejaculate. I see him in the mirror, looking, I can see his cock reacting to the sight of three spurts of semen splashing from the thick shiny tip of my prick and onto the glass in front of me.
Anyway, this was a while after that, after I graduated. We'd gone out with a few others, we were staying with another friend, who got together with a girl, sort of, at least enough that he was at least going to walk her home. He gave us the keys to his flat and said to head back, make ourselves at home. One of us could take his bed.
So we did. Can't remember if we walked, or got a cab. It was pretty uneventful. We got back, may have had a drink when we got there, but more or less got ready for bed. He may have persuaded me to share the bed, I probably would have gone to sleep on the sofa.
"Come on mate, it's a big bed, plenty of room."
