All characters in this story are 18+
This story is completely fictional.
All acts in this story are fully consensual.
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I thought it was a one-time thing.
Just a wild, unspoken moment caught by accident—or on purpose—but never to be repeated.
Until it happened again.
Same setup. Late-night study session. Cameras on. Mics off. Everyone slowly dropping until it was just the two of us. Him and me. Again.
He didn’t say a word. Just got up and walked off.
And just like last time—he came back.
Wearing only a tight pair of briefs this time, nothing else. His dick already half hard, stretching the fabric. He flopped down on his bed, leaned back on his elbows, and started touching himself through the briefs—slow, deliberate strokes, his hand sliding beneath the waistband.
For a second, I thought he was going to finish like that. Hidden. Teasing. I was convinced he was going to shut the laptop without ever showing me more.
But then he stood up.
And walked straight toward the camera.
He got close—too close. For a second I thought he was about to turn it off.
Instead, he reached down… and tilted the screen.
Down.
Until the whole frame was his lower body. His abs, the edge of his briefs, and then—he hooked his thumbs in and pulled them down. Slowly. All the way.
His cock flopped out, thick and hard, right in the center of the shot. He stepped even closer, grabbed it, and slapped it on the desk. Once. Twice. Loud enough that it echoed through my headphones.
I was frozen.
Then, without saying a word, he adjusted the laptop screen so it sat perfectly upright, stepped back, and sat on the edge of the bed. Closer this time. Legs spread wider. All for me.
He reached behind him and grabbed something—a fleshlight. Popped open a bottle of lube, poured it in generously, and slid two fingers inside to coat the walls. He took his time—warming it up, teasing the entrance with his tip, then easing his cock in slowly with a low grunt that I felt in my chest.
He started fucking it with slow, controlled thrusts, gripping it tight with both hands and pulling it down every time he pushed in. Lube squelched with every stroke. His hips lifted off the bed slightly, chasing the pressure. Every few seconds he adjusted the angle, lining himself up with the camera like he wanted me to see everything.
His abs tensed. His moans got sharper. Faster.
And then he came. Deep inside the toy.
He held still for a few seconds, breathing hard, cock twitching inside the sleeve. Then he slowly pulled out.
His cock was glistening—slick with a mix of lube and fresh cum, strings of it still dripping down the shaft. One long drip hung from the tip before it fell onto his thigh.
He set the fleshlight beside him on the bed, still full, still warm, and stood up—walking fully naked across the camera’s frame. No shame. No rush. Just soaked, proud, and completely unbothered.
Then my phone buzzed.
“You wish that fleshlight was your mouth, don’t you?”
Pause.
“Maybe next time.”
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