Helping out a bro
By Mxaussie
Chapter 2
Heat and the tiles underneath his bare feet... the distant echo of basketball reverberating through the locker room... and him, a fucking demi-god, shirtless and soaking wet, his hard dick pushing against his shorts, full lips just parted, his thumbs behind his waistband, promising that any second now, he was gonna show what he had hidden in his jocks...
And then a pesky sliver of sunlight finally edged its way just far enough down Tommy's dorm room wall to lie directly across his sleeping face. His eye twitched.
"Nnngggggg... go away...." he feebly complained, slapping a palm across his eyes.
Then a noise. A knock on the door.
Fuck off whoever you are, thought Tommy. I'm don't wanna be awake.
It was no use. He was awake.
He didn't feel that happy about it. His mouth was full of crap and a headache was rapidly blossoming between his temples. Friday night hangover. He didn't usually wake up this shit after a night on the piss. What the hell did he do last night? He groaned and ran his hand down his body absently to his dick.
His naked dick.
Blearily Tommy tried to remember why he went to bed naked. He never did that. Unless he was really horny.
Then the memory came flooding back.
The maintenance guy in the shower.
Instantly Tommy felt his cock flush hot and swell in his hand. He remembered how insanely turned on he had been the rest of the day. How he'd gone out with his mates to a house party, and all night long he couldn't help but hope that he'd run into that guy again. His boner didn't go down until he got home at 1 and laid in bed edging his dick thinking about getting that maintenance guy naked.
He looked down his naked body and saw a familiar dried streak of cum sprayed over his chest and stomach. It was a big one. He must have busted his nut and then passed out.
His eyes strayed to his hand around his dick, now fully boned up. Almost involuntarily, his hand started moving up and down his cock. It felt good. Despite the rocket of spunk he apparently unloaded last night, he knew he wasn't going to last long.
He started stroking faster, pulling on his balls with his other hand, a technique he discovered from his cousin when they jerked off once in high school. He did it ever since, whenever he wanted to cum hard and fast. Tommy conjured the image of the maintenance guy again, the muscle, his dark hair, the unmistakeable look of pure lust that took over his face... fuuuuck... he was gonna cum...
At that exact moment his dorm door flew open. Tommy panicked, grabbed his sheet and tried to cover himself up. Useless, beside the fact his dick was at full mast, a thin drip of cum had managed to leak out, evidence of how close he was to orgasm, leaving a tell-tale wet stain at the tip of the unmistakeable tent in the sheets. His mate, Mark, took it all in from the doorway.
"What the fuck man, don't you fucking knock?" Tommy shouted at his friend.
"I did knock, twice," Mark indignant. "Didn't realise you were busy."
"I was asleep!" Tommy grumbled.
"Is that what you call it?" smirked Mark. "Next time you're sleeping' invite me over. I got a two day load I could have used a hand with while you were sleeping'."
"Aw shut up Mark," Tommy shot back while Mark grinned, revealing an orthodontic masterpiece, brilliantly juxtaposed by his mate's dark complexion. "What do you want anyway?"
"Your car keys." Mark walked fully into the room and grabbed Tommy's car keys off his desk, the bright yellow googly-eyed minion keyring standing out in the dim light.
"My keys? Get fucked."
"You promised me last night I could borrow your car, arsehole."
"As if, when did I promise that?"
Mark sighed and sat on the edge of his friend's desk.
"I had a feeling you'd forget this conversation so I took the liberty of recording it."
"You what? Recorded what? What the fuck are you talking about?" Tommy spluttered, severely regretting not locking his door.
In reply, Mark pulled out his phone and clicked an app. A recording started to play. It was the house party the night before. Mark's tinny voice blurted out the speaker, clear over the background din. Tommy thought Mark's accent was more pronounced when he was drunk. A couple of beers really brought the "Bri'ish" out of him.
"Okay so say one more time what you just said." came the distinct East London twang that stood out like dog's balls in Australia. There was no doubt it was Mark.
"I said that... I said that you, Margk..."
"Your best mate..."
"Margk! My best... best mate in the worlddduh... can borrow my car inna mornigh because.... because..."
"... because you know you'll be too fucked in the morning to drive me and Sean to water polo training and be too hungover to attend said training?" Tommy could hear the smirk screwed onto every word of his friend's voice.
"Exactly!" triumphed drunk Tommy and the table he was at burst out laughing. The recording ended, leaving the only sound the sound of someone brushing their teeth in the communal bathroom down the hall.
"Fuck... water polo..." groaned Tommy.
"Yep!" chirped back Mark. "And I gotta go, Sean's waiting downstairs, we don't want to get chewed out by Nathan again for missing training. You can deal with that on your own, mate!"
Tommy assessed the severity of his hangover versus the indignity of enduring their coach Nathan's sarcastic comments next session when he found out Tommy missed today because he was hungover.
Nathan would definitely find out, because Mark and Sean would cheerfully announce it to everyone the moment they arrived.
Because they're arseholes, Tommy mentally added.
"Wait... wait... I'm coming..." he sighed. Mark looked skeptical.
"Well, me and Sean will be hitting the road in five minutes."
"I'm coming, I promise..." Tommy was fully awake by now. He glared at Mark, who just stood by Tommy's desk, grinning. There was a moment.
"Well?" Tommy gestured at his crotch. "Get out!"
"I dunno man," said Mark, nodding at the clear outline of Tommy's semi under the sheet. "I'm not sure I trust you'll be able to leave that thing alone when I go out..."
"Get the fuck out or you can walk to training."
As the trio hurried through the pool complex carpark, Tommy slurped down the last of his gatorade, washing down a hastily bought bacon and egg roll he insisted they stop and get on the way to training. Sean's protests of being late were gazumped by Tommy's trump card of owning the car they were traveling in. Sean was still complaining.
"Man, I can't believe we're late. Again."
"We're not that late," replied Tommy.
"Dunno why you couldn't have gotten a bacon and egg roll from the pool cafe." Sean went on.
Tommy looked over at his friend. Green eyes, straight dark hair with an expensive hair cut, the kind of guy that you'd describe as "pretty" and it'd be totally accurate. Tommy and Sean knew each from high school. They weren't exactly friends back then, but fate dictated they ended up living in the same dorm, and something of a fickle friendship grew between them by default.
"Because they microwave the eggs here and it tastes like shit," shot back Tommy.
"Dunno what the fuck are you`re complaining about, Sean" quipped Mark. "You got a bacon and egg roll too."
Tommy really liked Mark, a lot more than he liked Sean. Where Sean was prickly and unpredictable, Mark loved life and never seemed to be in a bad mood. He cheerfully would remind everyone at any moment his three favourite things in life were food, sex, and his mum's Caribbean cooking, which apparently transcended mere food and became a thing to be desired in its own right.
Mark could put it away too. He never seemed to be in any kind of shape except insanely fit, but he ate like a horse. In fact, his mouth was full of food at that exact moment.
Tommy couldn't deny he'd get naked for Mark in a heartbeat, but as far as he knew Mark was straight, having just broken up with his latest girlfriend two weeks before.
"Yeah, so did you, and a muffin and a caramel slice. No wonder we're late." Sean went on.
"The muffin and the caramel slice were already made, they didn't take any extra time to make, so thats not why we're late," Mark replied, mouth full of muffin.
Still bickering, the three walked into pool complex. Ten minutes late to training. Something that Nathan did not let slide.
Even though the trio were on the other side of the indoor pool complex, Nathan clocked them the second they walked through the sliding doors, and blew his whistle, short and sharp, making a couple of teenage girls walking by him at the time wince and shoot him dirty looks.
But Nathan never gave a crap.
"Boys! How lovely of you to join us!" he bellowed across the water polo pool. And the adjacent 25 meter lap pool. And the wading pool. And the cafe. "Get into your speedos in sixty seconds or else you'll be drilling passes the whole session!"
Nathan was a barrel-chested ex-army guy whose passion for water polo bordered on obsession. His broad accent signalled he'd grown up a long way from Sydney, probably somewhere that didn't even have a dam to swim in, let alone a water polo complex, so how Nathan ended up being able to eggbeater kick for an hour straight and not break a sweat was a big fucking mystery.
When he was happy with you, he was one of the nicest guys you could ever meet. When you pissed him off, Nathan became... a comedian.
"I'll take your lack of response as you all being stunned mute in anticipation of training!" Nathan continued unconcerned at the circus he'd created.
Tommy looked down. Beside him was a little kid with a jelly python who'd stopped to watch the show.
"Ugh fuck," said Sean under his breath. "Thanks Tom."
"Shut up, come on," ordered Tommy.
Not thirty seconds later the three were legging it across the complex in their speedos, stuffing clothes into bags, trying not to slip over on the so-called non-slip tiles.
Mark had half a jelly python hanging out of his mouth.
"Where the fuck did that come from?" huffed Sean.
"Swapped it with that kid for my slice," came Mark's muffled reply.
Arriving poolside, the boys chucked their bags in a pile, pulled on their headgear accompanied by a half-assed chorus of "sorry Nathan" as their coach berated them.
"You're lucky you made it before the fifteen minute mark, fellas," Nathan said sternly, half-joking. As Nathan continued his monologue about the important of teamwork and punctuality, Tommy took in his coach. Tall, broad, crossed arms making his football-sized biceps strain against the fabric of his sweatshirt. It was like he was just twenty percent bigger than most guys. Tommy figured he was somewhere in his mid-40s, only because of the grey in his hair and beard, but if that was the case he was fitter than most guys twenty years younger than him and had the cockiness of a teenager.
Not for the first time, Tommy found his gaze drifting down to his coach's gym shorts. He'd noticed Nathan usually showed up to training commando. Today was no different. Nice, thought Tommy.
"Tommy," called Nathan. Tommy's eyes snapped back up. "My eyes are up here, mate," said Nathan, a little bemused.
Tommy turned bright red while Sean and Mark snickered.
"Get in, ten laps, then join the others."
Training was exactly what Tommy's hangover needed. As soon as he started swimming his laps, the chlorine, the water, the gatorade and the bacon, gradually his headache faded and was replaced with the warm endorphin-y feeling of exercise. His muscles sang, the water slipping over his skin, and later, when he joined training, his arms and legs getting tangled up with the other guys' in the pool went beyond the thrill of something sexual. It was like a primeval joy of being a guy.
When he first joined the team a year go, it was all he could do not to get out the pool with a rager, hard to hide in a pair of speedos. That, and the unsubtle glances at his teammates in the locker room meant that everyone on the team figured he was into guys pretty quickly. But he wasn't the only gay dude on the team, and no one seemed to give a shit, so weirdly despite the testosterone, speedos, and a weekly locker room shower off with twenty or so insanely fit guys, water polo was one part of Tommy's life where being gay just never really entered the equation.
Most of the time.
Tommy's musing's drifted off as training went on, first some goal shooting followed by a friendly match that his side lost by one point. The time passed quickly, and on the hour Nathan indicated they were free to go. Most of the squad wandered off to the nearby water polo locker room in small friendship cliques; Mark announced he was starving and needed some banana bread before he did anything else.
As Tommy slipped out of his speedos, Sean plonked down his bag on the bench next to him.
"You could definitely tell your head wasn't in it today, dude," Sean said with a wry smile. "You missed like three easy passes I shot you."
"Yeah, guess that's what I get for being hungover," Tommy replied, throwing his towel over his shoulder. Sean slipped out of his speedos too, and followed.
"I dunno man, seems like maybe passes aren't your thing, maybe you need to drill them a bit," Sean went on. Tommy ignored him, turning the shower on and feeling the hot water cascade over his body. Sean turned on the shower next to him, and started soaping up, continuing his unsolicited critique of Tommy's water polo abilities.
Slyly, Tommy looked sideways at his friend. Sean was hot, he couldn't deny that. Slim, almost delicate, but muscled nonetheless. His body was pale and pretty hairless, except for a dark shock of pubes above his soft cut cock. He also had one of the biggest cockheads he'd seen, a definite mushroom head that right now was smacking softly against his nuts each time he moved.
Tommy wasn't especially attracted to Sean, his personality kind of put him off, but he had admitted to himself on more than one occasion that if Sean had suggested Tommy suck his dick, he wouldn't have thought twice.
He started to brick up a little thinking about it. Fuck. Think of grandma.
It worked. But not soon enough.
"Whoa Tommy," laughed Sean, loud enough for everyone in the showers to hear. "You're really enjoying that shower, hey?"
"Yeah yeah," Tommy brushed it off.
Pete, one of the other guys in the squad, straight, and a real smartarse, piped up from the other side of the shower room, "full mast or semi?"
"Half right now, but Tommy's a red-blooded dick lover, give it a few minutes and I reckon we'll see his dong in its full glory," teased Sean.
"You wish, Sean," Tommy said, rolling his eyes. Sean turned to face the other side of the showers, which had turned into more of a gallery.
"Hey Luke," he said to one of the other gay guys on the team. "What do you reckon, you reckon my dick is hot?"
"Don't promise what you won't deliver, Sean," Luke said with a smile and a chorus of laughs from the room.
Tommy knew Luke thought Sean was hot. Last weekend at the Imperial Luke had bet him and Liam, the other gay guy in the team, that he was going to get to suck Sean's dick by the end of the year.
Tommy glanced at Liam, who'd turned fully round into the room, soap dripping down his naked body as he watched on. He wasn't even pretending to wash himself.
Tommy saw the soap run down Liam's semi erect cock.
Fuck, thought Tommy. What's happening here?
Sean had turned back to face Tommy.
"Come on mate," Sean said, with a look Tommy had come to recognise. It was the look when Sean was going to do the... thing he did every now and then. Sean framed his cock and nuts with his hands, swung his hips from side to side, making his heavy soft dick sway and slap against his body. "We know you love checking out my dick..."
Tommy looked. Sean's dick was boning up. It wasn't rock hard, but it definitely wasn't soft. Despite himself, Tommy felt his cock growing stiff. Ugh, not here, he thought. Half the squad kept their conversations going, but Tommy could tell there was some interest in what was happening, and they began to peter out. Sean pulled this shit every now and then, and it always got a laugh. Tommy had never sprung a full boner, but that was before he saw... that maintenance guy, and he'd never had a wank interrupted pre-nut before training until now.
Shit, he realised. I'm gonna spring a full boner. I'll never hear the end of this.
There was a weird moment. The conversations had all but stopped, there wasn't any laughing this time. Tommy was aware that he and Sean were definitely the centre of attention in the showers. Out of the corner of his eye one of the guys move his hands down to his cock.
Tommy and Sean locked eyes for a moment. Sean twitched an eyebrow up, cocky, challenging. No one said a word, the air thick with steam and sex.
"What the fuck's going on in here, it's like a fuckin' funeral!" Mark came booming into the showers, oblivious. The moment was broken, and everyone turned back and started up their conversations like nothing had happened.
Sean gave Tommy a half-smirk and turned back to his shower, Mark stepping into the empty spot on Sean's other side and launching into how good the pool's cafe's banana bread was. Tommy gratefully turned back to face the wall, washed off quickly, and left the shower room as quick as he could without looking weird about it.
The drive home was uneventful, the intense moment in the locker room apparently totally forgotten by Sean, who had started a spirited argument with Mark about something to do with Adamantium versus Vibranium. Tommy wasn't really listening.
He mused on what had happened in the locker room. Sean had turned him on so much, if Mark had come in a minute later he would have walked in on a really different scene.
Tommy loved sex, but that was... next level. Still, if the next words out of Sean's mouth a challenge to touch it or suck it or... something, Tommy knew he would have given in.
Thinking about it made him start to bone up again, and he was grateful his friends weren't that interested in him at the moment to notice.
Fuck, soon as I get home I'm jerking off, he promised himself.
Thirty minutes later he'd dispatched Sean and Mark in the carpark and practically ran back to his room. It was like his cock could tell, and had started boning up as he drove through the ramshackle college gates. He'd had to manoeuvre himself during their goodbyes so he was always on the other side of the car. He was grateful the dorm was deserted when he got inside so he wouldn't have to crab walk to his room.
He'd barely closed the door before he pulled his cock out, sticking out over his gym shorts. It was rock hard, and leaking bad. He wanted to enjoy it but fuck he was close.
He couldn't help himself, his nuts were suddenly aching, and he started stroking his dick, feeling his foreskin slide over his cockhead, slow but firm.
"Awwww fuck," he moaned involuntarily.
He pulled off his T-shirt and faced the full-length mirror on the back of his door. Watching himself, he rubbed his hands over his body, lightly haired, defined chest, to a nipple, feeling it harden under his fingers. His other hand went straight back to his dick.
His thoughts went back to the locker room, not an hour before. Imagining if Mark hadn't walked in. Sean taunts him one more time, Tommy's hard cock is there for everyone to see. Tommy can't help himself, falls to his knees and opens his mouth, begging for Sean to let him taste it. Sean does, feeds it right into his waiting throat, the other guys watching, jerking off. Liam comes over, feeds me that cock, fuck I wanted his cock the day I saw it, fuck I bet his cum tastes so good, fuck I want Sean's load so bad, I want his cock in my hole and Liam unloading his cock in my throat...
Tommy felt the load pass the point of no return, felt the first spray of cum burst out of his glistening cockhead.
As Mark opened the door.
The load sprayed thickly up Mark's tank top, Mark standing shocked in the doorway. The second streak striped its way across the first, just as thick and long.
Tommy didn't give a fuck. It felt so fucking good to nut.
"This... is why... you fucking... knock!" Tommy gasped out between thick spermy ropes.
There was a moment of silence. Tommy had hosed down Mark. His tank top was coated in Tommy's jizz, and a couple of thick splats had landed on Mark's sneakers.
Tommy flopped backwards on the bed, his still-hard cock stiff out the top of his shorts. He regarded Mark.
"What the fuck, man?!" shouted Mark, indignantly.
"I fucking told you to knock," panted Tommy. "This is on you."
Tommy looked at the streaks of cum dripping their way down Mark's shirt.
"Literally," he chuckled.
"Dude, it's not funny man," growled back Mark. "This is my favourite tank top."
Tommy couldn't help but smile as Mark gingerly pulled his shirt over his head. The muscles on Mark's body slid under his dark skin as Tommy watched on.
"Shut the door man, do you want the whole dorm to hear?" Tommy said, lazily, flicking his dick away. Mark shot Tommy a panicked look, and stuck his head through the door. He quickly looked around, and shut it.
"No one's here, thank fuck," he said, and flopped down on the floor beside the door. A look came over Mark's face. "Wait a sec, didn't you already jerk off this morning? I know what I saw."
"No, fucker, you interrupted me," laughed Tommy. "I was this fucking close. I had to do water polo training with blue fucking balls, no thanks to you, arsehole."
Mark laughed out loud. "Is that why you were so boned up in the shower? I didn't wanna say anything but geez dude, you could have chiseled rock with that thing."
Now a look came over Tommy's face. It only lasted a second and then Tommy laughed, "yeah dude."
Mark noticed, but kept talking. "You shoot fucking ropes, man" he said, opening up his shirt. He'd had it rolled up into a ball and now Tommy's load was spread all over it, like some weird gooey finger-painting.
"It's fucking ruined," he groaned, looking at his shirt.
"Nah just wash it, jizz comes out of clothes. I should know man," Tommy laughed. "I've used enough t shirts as cum rags."
"Why, how much do you jerk off, man?" asked Mark.
"That's kind of personal," Tommy smirked.
"Nah, go on, tell me," Mark pestered.
"Why, how much do you jerk off?" countered Tommy.
"I asked you first."
"Well are you gonna tell me if I tell you?"
"Yeah, sure."
Tommy considered for a second.
"And then do I get to ask you a question?"
Mark paused, and then shrugged.
"Sure okay. So... how many times a week on average would you say you jerk off?"
"That's not the question you asked, you asked how much I jerk off, which I think is a lot."
"I was being more precise, it's more scientific."
"I'm not a fuckin' science major, I'm an arts major, I draw animated superheroes for assignments and get stoned and watch Rocky Horror Picture Show, I don't give a fuck about science."
"Ugh, fine."
There was a pause.
"Well?" Tommy demanded, "how much do you jerk off?"
"I dunno... a lot too?"
There was another pause. Then Mark said, slightly exasperated, "see, this is why I wanted to be more precise. All we know is that we both jerk off a lot, which is totally normal for guys our age, in fact, I'd think it was kind of weird if you said you didn't jerk off much."
"Well don't get me wrong, sometimes I spread it out, I give myself breaks." Tommy grinned. "Makes starting up again so much more fun."
Mark laughed a little awkwardly, but said, "okay so now you ask."
"Umm.... how big is your cock when it's hard?"
"No, you're supposed to ask how many times a week..."
"It's my question, dude," laughed Tommy. "So come on, how big is your cock when it's hard?"
Mark hesitated. "Uh, I dunno mate, I never really measured it..."
Tommy grinned again. "Bullshit! Every guy measures their cock at some point.
"Nah true mate, I never have. I like it though." Mark paused for a second, then added, "No complaints so far."
"I'm 5.5 inches," Tommy proclaimed. "Exactly average."
Mark laughed. "Good for you man, be proud of that dick. Looked good from what I saw."
Despite having busted a nut five minutes before, Tommy was pleasantly surprised to find his dick was hardening up again. There was definitely something in the air.
Let's just see where this goes, though Tommy.
"I feel like you have to measure it man," said Tommy cooly. "For science."
Mark laughed, but Tommy said, "I'm serious."
"I'm not measuring my dick for you, man," laughed Mark more.
"Come on man, an old fashioned game of truth or dare," challenged Tommy. Fuck he was horny at the moment. And more brazen than usual.
A thought bolted through Tommy's head: what if I was playing truth or dare with that maintenance guy.
In an instant Tommy felt his dick go as hard and rigid as it had been when he burst into his room to fire out his last load.
Fuck, thought Tommy, that guy has really gotten to me.
Mark seemed unsure about Tommy's suggestion. "Uhhh...."
Tommy didn't say anything. Ball's in his court, he thought.
"Okay."
"Nice man," grinned Tommy. He was pretty sure he was going to end up naked with Mark now.
Mark grinned back. "But you forgot something."
"What?"
"It's my turn."
Tommy paused, and then laughed, "fuck."
"Okay...," Mark said after some thought, "show me your cock."
"You're going straight for that? What happened to average cumloads in a week?"
"Because I know what you're going to do next so I'm just getting in first."
"You don't know what I'm going to ask you."
"You're gonna ask me to measure my dick in front of you."
"In front of me? No I was gonna ask you to measure it in the wardrobe man, there's a fucking subtlety to this game. Why not just ask me to bend over so you can fuck me?"
"Maybe I will," Mark shot back with a smirk.
Tommy paused. He was impressed.
"Alright fine dude, you wanna see it? How long for? And where?"
"Come stand here, next to me. For thirty seconds."
Tommy stood up. His dick felt rock hard. He loved showing off with a hot guy. And Mark, it had to be said, was fucking hot. Dark curly hair framed his face, full lips, muscled body from years of gym workouts and laps in the pool.
It wasn't really that much of a challenge. Still, Tommy's stomach was doing summersaults.
Tommy positioned himself a foot from Mark, his crotch face height. He could see his reflection in the mirror behind the door. Still bare-chested, wearing his red gym shorts, socks and sneakers.
Mark didn't notice the mirror. He was fixated on Tommy, shooting glances from his face to his obviously boned up dick inside his shorts.
Tommy pulled his shorts all the way down to his ankles, his hard dick springing out mere inches from Mark's face.
Mark didn't move a muscle, or say a word.
They stood in silence.
"Fuck thirty seconds is a long time," joked Tommy quietly.
Mark gave a half-laugh, "yeah..."
Then both went quiet again. Tommy could see Mark drinking in his cock. He didn't take his eyes off it. Tommy looked at the reflection. He, Tommy, standing bare-ass naked over Mark, Mark on the floor, staring up at Tommy's penis. In the mirror, Tommy saw Mark's hand involuntarily making tiny stroking motions.
"Think that's more than thirty seconds dude," said Tommy quietly with a grin, pulling his shorts back up. He flopped back onto the bed. "So whats the verdict?"
Mark laughed, breaking the tension. "Looks even better up close, mate."
Tommy replied, "You know what this means..."
Mark groaned and rolled his eyes. "In the wardrobe or out here?"
"I dunno man, you went straight to level three, showing dick. It only seems fair that you do it in front of me..."
Tommy was amused at the weird mix of emotions that crossed Mark's face.
"..but since I know you'll be a little bitch about it you can do it in the wardrobe."
Another weird mix of emotions - maybe a little disappointment? thought Tommy - crossed Mark's face but he stood up without hesitation. "What am I measuring it with?"
"With this..." Tommy said, reaching over and opening a drawer. He pulled out a tape measure.
"Why the fuck do you have a tape measure?"
"For my gym stats man, measuring my biceps and waist and shit."
"You do that crap?"
"Yeah and it's fucking working, now go measure your dick, shitheel."
Looking at his friend with a raised eyebrow, Mark took the tape measure and opened the wardrobe door, shielding most of his body from Tommy. Tommy could see the very back of Mark's track pants. The pants came down, the elastic resting under his cheeks.
Tommy started rubbing his cock through his shorts.
"Centimeters or inches?" asked Mark.
"Inches dude, you know that much."
There was a busy pause, before Mark announced plainly, "8 inches."
"What? Get fucked."
"Yeah man, 8 inches. Maybe even a bit more."
"No way man, prove it."
"You said in the wardrobe."
"Don't fuck around man, I wanna see."
"Fine," said Mark and came out from behind the door.
Tommy was stunned. Mark's muscled body seemed to drag his eyes down to a dark, thick bush of tight pubes, out of which stuck the hardest 8 incher he'd ever seen, dead straight. The white of the tape measure contrasted starkly with Mark's dick, and from where he was Tommy could plainly see the "8" resting just behind the tip of Mark's bright pink cockhead, half hidden under his dark foreskin. Below Mark's cock, almost at a right angle, hung two bull nuts.
"Fuuck man," breathed Tommy. "It never looked like that in the showers."
"You been checking me out?" said Mark, quietly. His hands were still holding the tape measure against his iron rod shaft. Tommy could tell the game had shifted from something kind of stupid to something... hot.
"Is that my truth?"
"Yeah."
"Fuck yeah I have man," confessed Tommy eagerly.
Mark started stroking his dick, almost imperceptibly. Tommy took this as a sign, and resumed rubbing his cock through his shorts. Mark stared, his lips slightly open, breathing heavily.
"My turn dude," said Tommy.
"Go for it," replied Mark. His hand started stroking his dick more noticeably. Tommy watched for a second, then looked Mark dead in the eye.
"Stroke my dick like you stroke yours."
This time there was no hesitation, like Mark had been expecting it. Hoping for it. "For how long?"
Tommy thought a second.
"A minute."
Tommy watched Mark, the only sound was a door slamming distantly in the dorm. Then without a word, Mark moved to the bed, and reached into Tommy's shorts.
"Fuuuuuuck," breathed Tommy as he felt his friend's hand wrap around his cock. Mark's fingers explored up and down Tommy's shaft, sometimes stroking, sometimes barely touching it. He felt Mark's hand move down to his nuts, rolling his balls like marbles. Then Mark gripped Tommy's cock and started stroking it in hard, long strokes.
Tommy started moaning, soft and deep. His head fell back on the pillow, his eyes half closed, totally overcome by the feeling of getting jerked off by his mate. He looked down at Mark, shirtless, hard dick in his other hand, watching the look on Tommy's face. Mark switched it up, started rubbing his thumb under Tommy's wet cockhead, making Tommy arch his back and throw out a loud moan.
"Uuuugh, fuck yeah man, like that," Tommy begged. Mark felt his cock harden knowing how much control he had over Tommy.
Fuck, he thought. I wanna make him cum.
He started jerking his friend faster, all he could think about was the load he saw Tommy spray before, and knew he wanted that on him. Anywhere.
Tommy started whimpering.
"Fuuuh... fuuhh..ckk... dude... slow down..... fuuck... you're gonna.... make me nut....."
Mark just stroked harder and faster. Tommy knew he wasn't gonna last long. If his mate wanted to make him nut so bad, he was at least going to show him.
With Mark still working his cock, Tommy wriggled out of his shorts and pulled them down his legs as far as he could. His exposed cock just seemed to make Mark want it more. He moved so he was straddling Tommy, lining their cocks up.
Mark gripped both their dicks in his hands, and started milking them together. Hard. Fast.
"Fuuuck yeah I'm gonna make you cum..." hissed Mark through clenched teeth. Tommy recognised pure lust when he saw it. He felt the load about to spray.
"Fuck Mark... gonna cum..."
"Fucking do it man, show me."
Tommy groaned loudly as the first arc of semen sprayed in the air. He felt it splat heavily across his face and in his hair, the rest of the load striped down to his navel. A second streak joined the first, then he lost count, totally overcome with the insane feeling of Mark making him cum.
As soon as he saw the first load erupt from Tommy's piss slit, Mark started to nut. His head fell back and he let out a long whimper, feeling his massive nuts pull against his body and start to pump out cum.
"Uhh.. uhhh... uuuhhh..." each wad punctuated by a moan. Tommy felt load after load splat thickly onto his stomach and cock, mixing with the last drips of his own nut juice, running down the side of his shaft and pooling on his sack.
After what felt like eternity Tommy felt the haze of cumlust start to clear. He could hear Mark panting, his hands still wrapped around both their cocks, coated in their loads. Tommy's stomach and chest were wet, and he could feel it already dripping down his side.
"Fuck man..." he grinned. "Look at me."
Marks panting turned into chuckles, "Mate... you're covered!"
Tommy swiftly scooped up a wad of their mixed loads and landed a sticky handprint on his mate's stomach.
"So are you now," he laughed.
Mark grinned in mock disgust. "Aw fuck man, what is it with you and wanting to cum on me?"
"Look where your load is, you tell me man!"
"That's because you wanted it," replied Mark, pinning Tommy's hands behind his head. Tommy struggled back, but Mark bent over, pressing his body against Tommy's slimed up torso and stomach. He writhed their bodies together, Mark's face hovering above Tommy's a couple of inches.
"Is that better?" smirked Mark.
"Much better," laughed Tommy. "Next time you can be the cumbitch though."
A strange look crossed Mark's face. Oh shit, thought Tommy. Is he going to freak out?
The broadest grin Tommy had ever seen on his affable mate's face spread from one cheek to the other. Mark gave Tommy a quick peck on the lips.
"Fuck yeah, next time!"
Tommy grinned back. Awesome.
Now he had more practical matters to deal with.
"Hey... can you grab us something to clean up with?"
Mark sat up, looked around for a second, then grabbed his black cumstained tank top off the floor.
"May as well, it's a fucking cum rag now anyway."