Owen pulled up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the perspiration from his face, light glinting off his abs as his body came into view. I took the moment to look him over while his face was out of view.
"Are you going to help or are you just going to keep checking me out?" he said, clearly proud of himself for having caught me looking.
I laughed. Owen and I have been friends for years. We're the same age, but I've always had the feeling he thought of me as something of a little brother.
"I've seen better," I said as casually as I could muster, trying to hide the redness in my cheeks as I bent down to pick up another box of stuff.
I'd always looked up to Owen. There's some jealousy there, too, if I'm being honest. He's one of those good looking guys who always had life come so easy, never had to work for anything. One flash of those dimples and people would fall over themselves to give him anything he wanted. It was the confidence, probably.
Once when we were younger, he sweet talked some older kids looking to beat me up after school. I think his charisma caught them off guard. "Guys, I'm sure we can work something out," he told them, the casual, good-natured grin never slipping from his face. "What did this little guy ever do to you?"
In truth, they had caught me muttering something rude under my breath. When you're young and scrawny, you tend to react to people tougher than you with a cutting tongue. Snide comments and wit become your way of displaying dominance. The cowardly boy's version of puffing out his chest or throwing a punch. Suffice to say, not my best quality.
Which is why Owen's lack of intimidation in the face of a physical threat was especially impressive to my young eyes. If it ever crossed his mind that the situation wouldn't work out in his favor, his demeanor never betrayed it. He spoke to those kids -- strangers, even older than he was at the time -- like old friends, guys he's known for his entire life. And they responded in kind, because how could you not? When someone that handsome and self-assured comes to you, speaks to you on your level and reaches out to shake your hand, you take it.
Before any of us knew what was happening, they were apologizing for the "misunderstanding" and off on their way. It's been like that ever since.
Part of me thinks a good portion of our friendship, my loyalty, has been one long attempt to repay a debt from that day. What I haven't been able to figure out in all these years, though, is what made a guy like that want to be friends with me.
Together we finished moving the rest of our things into our tiny dorm room. It took a while because for all his ribbing, Owen was the one who kept getting distracted. Making friends with our neighbors, chatting up girls, all the things that worried me about starting over in college came so naturally to him.
"Man, I am beat," he said once we were finally alone. "But I desperately need a shower."
I inhaled sharply as he peeled off his shirt, stripping down with the door to our room hanging wide open. I watched as the muscles in his torso flexed and tensed through the motion, every ripple visible on his toned body. When he bent down to take off his pants, I reflexively turned my gaze away, pretending to be distracted unpacking a box of desk supplies.
We never discussed my attraction to Owen, but it certainly wasn't a secret. Sometimes he'd catch me staring and rib me like earlier. Other times, he'd pretend not to notice, choosing instead to let my moments of lust pass unacknowledged. To be honest, I think he liked it. In return, I was careful never to cross the unspoken line or betray his trust. I'd turn away when he would change near me, never letting my gaze linger for too long. I was always the first to break off physical contact -- to avoid making myself uncomfortable as mush as him.
To my logical mind, it was the line between physical attraction and desire. Owen was never mine to have or to want, and I knew as much.
But there were times, though few and far between, when my innermost urges became tough to control. Those few moments when I wasn't too quick to turn away, or when a hug would linger on slightly longer than usual. Like a warmth consuming my body from the inside, something else would take over. Our years of friendship would fall away, leaving behind just my basest impulses and a sexually desirable man.
"I can't believe we're here, dude. Fucking college. Aren't you excited?"
I turned around to answer, to tell him that of course I was excited to be here at my dream school, rooming with my best friend. But the words flew out of my head when I found him standing there stark naked, the door to the hallway now closed.
"W-what the hell, dude?" My faltering speech foiling my attempts to play it cool. Owen just stood there, every arch and turn of his perfectly sculpted body on full display. My eyes locked onto his soft, but hefty package, one of the best I've ever seen. I began to feel that warmth creeping from within me, flushing my face bright red and surreptitiously filling my own pants.
"What, you've never seen a naked man before?" he laughed, reaching for a towel to wrap around his waist. "You know, if we're going to be living together, we might end up seeing each other naked a few times. You're going to have to learn to control yourself."
"I'll try," I said, rolling my eyes as though it weren't as tall of a task as it would most certainly turn out to be.
"Is this all right?" he asked. I never bothered to get his name.
"Harder."
The man, a random picked from Grindr based on his torso alone, started to thrust into me with new vigor. I looked up at him and watched his body tense and coil as he fucked me. Thin but strong, his hands slipped down from my ankles to the tops of my thighs, pulling me closer.
"Harder," I repeated. I could feel his hesitation, but I was quickly losing patience, yearning for more.
More confident now, eager to prove his manhood, probably, he tucked his hands into the back of my knees and pressed my legs into my chest, spreading me open. I felt his thick cock slide all the way out of my ass, dragging a deep moan out of my body along the way.
Suddenly empty, the craze that fogged my mind started to clear. I thought back to scrolling through the app, looking for anything to satisfy me. Heading over to his place at first sight of his pictures, before I had even seen a face, erection tucked into the waistband of my pants. Shoving him back and taking him into my mouth within seconds of walking through the door, as to avoid the awkward exchange of pleasantries.
But instead of dwelling on it further, all I felt was him plunge his entire length into my ass. We both screamed as his fucking turned deep, aggressive. His pace was feverish, our bodies loudly clapping together, loudly marking the quickening tempo. He pressed my legs further back, straining my body as his focus went to his cock sliding all the way in and out of my ass.
"I'm gonna cum," he warned. I grabbed his hips, signaling him to keep going. "Are you sure?"
His breathing turned guttural, a mix between a moan and a growl. His fucking rocked the entire room as the bed knocked against the wall.
I felt myself moaning in time with his thrusts as I began to lose control of my body. I looked up at his face for the first time, his brow furrowed in a primal concentration, sweat dripping from his temples down to his chin. His eyes, blue, I noticed for the first time, were locked onto my own. I saw the fierceness in them that I recognized from other guys. A mix of domination and aggression typically indicating that my own needs were secondary to his own satisfaction. But I saw something else in his eyes, too. Tenderness, perhaps. Almost a sense of camaraderie, as though he was as determined to get me off with his fucking as himself.
"You ready?" It was a rhetorical question more than anything. He pressed his whole body into me, driving his cock even further into my ass than before. I felt his hand wrap around my own hard-on as his face burrowed into my neck. "I'm going to cum in your ass," he said, barely a whisper in my ear.
His rhythm fell away, now replaced by erratic, unpredictable stabs that caught me off guard each time. Each thrust accompanied by a surprisingly gentle tightening of his grip on my cock.
As I felt my balls tighten against my body, I felt him tensing up pressing his full weight into me. "Fuuuck!" I shouted as he pushed me over the edge, his steady strokes milking out a climax that began even before I started to cum. My ass clamped down on his dick and my body shuddered, as though in anticipation of the massive load that then exploded out of my own rock hard cock.
"Oh fuck yeah, man!" he exclaimed through his panting. The sight of my orgasm seemed to be enough to push him over the edge. He roared as he bottomed out in my ass and collapsed on top of me, my cum now spreading between our two bodies, his cum unloading deep inside me.
"That was fucking hot," he said after a beat, once we both had a chance to catch our breath. "I'm Matt, by the way."