I knew I shouldn’t be in his room. But I was.
And his underwear—those tight, gray compression briefs he wore after the gym—were right on top of the pile in his bag, still damp with sweat. Still warm.
My hand shook a little as I picked them up. My heart pounded.
They smelled like him. That thick, musky mix of cologne and crotch sweat and body heat—raw, masculine, heady. I buried my face in the fabric and inhaled like a fucking addict.
God, he smelled so good.
I pressed the briefs tighter to my face, right where the bulge had been. I could still make out the outline. The shape. I licked the fabric once, just to taste it. My whole body buzzed.
I didn’t hear the door open.
“Dude.”
My stomach dropped.
I turned, frozen in place, and there he was. Standing in the doorway shirtless, his gym shorts hanging low. A protein shake in one hand, keys in the other. His body still glistening from the shower. And that stupid smirk already creeping onto his face.
“The fuck are you doing, bro?” he said, stepping inside and kicking the door shut behind him.
“I—I was just—fuck—I didn’t mean—”
“Were you sniffing my underwear?” he asked, grinning like he’d just caught me jerking off to his OnlyFans. “Seriously?”
I dropped the briefs like they were on fire.
He looked at the floor. Then back at me. “Jesus,” he laughed. “You could’ve just told me you wanted my dick, you little perv.”
“I didn’t— I mean— I wasn’t—”
He cocked his head. “Don’t lie now. You were all up in it.”
He tossed his shake onto the dresser and stepped closer. His cock was outlined thick down his thigh. I couldn’t stop staring.
“I’m not gay or anything,” he said casually, like this was a normal conversation. “But if you’re that desperate for it...”
He slid a thumb into the waistband of his shorts.
“You want it?” he asked, watching me squirm on my knees. “Come get it.”
I crawled toward him, hands shaking, knees burning against the carpet. I was so fucking hard it hurt.
He didn’t flinch. Just stood there, arms crossed, abs flexing as I tugged down his shorts. His cock flopped out half-hard, thick and veiny, hanging heavy between his legs.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t think you’d really do it.”
I leaned in and licked up the underside. He was salty. Hot. His whole body twitched.
“Shit,” he whispered, grabbing the back of my head. “Alright. Go slow. Don’t choke unless you want to.”
I opened my mouth and slid down on him. My lips stretched wide. He grunted.
“Fuck, you’ve been dreaming about this, haven’t you? Sucking your big bro’s cock?”
I moaned around him.
He started thrusting. Slow at first, then deeper. His cock hit the back of my throat and he growled.
“Fucking take it. Let me use your mouth.”
He grabbed my hair and guided my head, using me like a toy. His hips rolled forward—hard, steady. My jaw ached but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.
“You love this,” he muttered, voice getting rough. “You’re my little cumslut now, huh?”
He was close. I could feel it in the way his cock throbbed on my tongue.
“I’m gonna nut in your mouth, bro. You’re swallowing every drop.”
He shoved deep and groaned as he came. Hot pulses spilled down my throat. I choked once, then sucked harder, desperate to taste all of him.
When he pulled out, I was breathless, mouth wet, chin slick.
He looked down, still smirking. “Damn.”
He tucked himself back into his shorts like it was nothing.
“You ever want more, just ask. But next time,” he winked, “you’re calling me sir.”
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