I’m moaning like a pornstar, like this is the best sex I’ve ever had, but the truth is, it’s not that great. It’s barely any kind of good. In fact, this guy’s dick is small and I’m doing all of the work riding him like this. I sort of feel like I’m going to be the wrong and not-very-sexy kind of sore after, but you know what, he’s hot, and he’s a good kisser, and he was the only person I could hit up who would answer.
The things he’s saying are nice, too. Much nicer than his dick. His dick is just… I mean, it’s there. It feels some kind of good, I guess.
“Oh, God, you’re so pretty, so fucking pretty, and your ass is the best thing I’ve ever felt… You’re so good, oh, you’re so good, you’re so--ohhhh….” I cut him off by leaning forward and moving my ass up and down like they do in porn. Basically like I’m twerking with dick in my ass. It doesn’t feel like anything to me, but I do so love shutting a boy up.
I bite his lip like I’m trying to eat it off and he moans again, and I swear his eyes are rolling inside his head. I keep kissing him, hard, then I kiss his cheek, then over down his jaw, and my saliva is coating him the side of his face, and then I bite into his neck, and he screams out a moan. I keep bouncing my ass, holding that dick in. Still not really into it. But. He’s cute enough. I think.
Finally, I lean back and straighten my posture. The dick falls out for about the eighteenth time today, and I grab it absentmindedly and shove it back in, then resume my rhythmic motion on him. He moans again, then reaches up to grab my chest.
“Fuuuuck, how are you so fucking good at this?” he manages to moan out. His face is red and flushed, and he’s covered in sweat. He smells sort of gross in an unsexy way, unlike the kind of guys who get all sweaty and smell gross in a sexy, manly way that makes me want to taste it on their cock. I almost physically have to bite my tongue to refrain from telling him that I’m not good, he’s just really, really bad.
I grind my hips down and rock side to side, up and down, squeezing and releasing on the dick, then he cries out again: “Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh God, oh God, I’m gonna fucking cum, I’m gonna--”
And then he does! And then the door opens.
“And Liam should be home, and there’s no sock on the door, so--” Noah says, then turns right back around and slams the door behind him.
I stand up off the dick, brush the guy’s chest with my palm like I’m petting a dog, and pat his moderately-sized pec once.
“Okay, good job champ, see ya,” I say to him. He starts to stand and I yank the towel out from under him, wipe myself down in all the places I’m sweaty, including my face, then I think about the fact that the towel was just met with my bare ass and probably has cum on it, wince, and toss it into my laundry bin. I pull on pants without underwear and pull a shirt on.
I open the door and peek outside to find Noah and the cute chick he’s been seeing for the past few weeks.
“Oh, hey, Noey, I’m really sorry. That was so embarrassing. I didn’t realize you’d be home, and--” I look at his date and give her a grin. “--Oh, hey, Sofia! How’s it going? I’m really sorry about that. For some reason I thought Noah would be gone for the rest of the day. Wasn’t expecting him to come home, hence… Y’know. Ha-ha.”
She grins back and wraps her arm around Noah’s.
“It happens. We’re college kids! You guys should probably devise a better system of letting each other know, though. Just a thought.” Noah eyeballs me, asking a question that I’m not going to answer out loud to him, ever.
“Let me just make sure that dude is ready to go, and--”
“‘That dude’?” Sofia asks, laughing. “You don’t know his name?” I grin back. I’m channeling my best Disney-Channel devious little brother vibes complete with a shit-eating (why is it called that? It’s disgusting.) grin, a crooked head position, and only one foot on the ground.
“Nope. I don’t ask.”
She sputters a laugh. I take a step back in and peek back at my partner. He’s got his pants on and his shoes, and he’s pulling on his shirt, covering up those moderately nice abs.
“Hey, Liam. This was… really, really good. Can we do this again sometime? I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but like, can we maybe get coffee? You’re really, really hot, and I think I’d like to get to know you better. Is that dramatic? Am I dramatic? I’m sorry for being weird. I’m really sorry. I just…” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is sticking up in all sorts of places, and sticks to his face from sweat in a few others. His shirt is stuck, too. “Your ass is fat, and I wanna get that shit to belong to me, you know? Ha-Ha. That was a joke. I’m not very funny, I’m sorry. You’re very hot. Can we have sex again? Soon?”
I hold up a hand, and he stops talking and blushes. Then, I turn and take the same hand to gesture towards the door. He raises an eyebrow at me, so I repeat the action. A gesture towards the door. His smile turns into a disappointed frown, and he nods, then walks out the door past Noah and Sofia on the other side. They both step in the moment he’s out.
It’s occurred to me that I might be. The Worst.
But we can unpack that another day.
“You should probably go take a shower, bro,” Noah says, looking up and down at me. The thought that he’s really eyeing me up and down to undress me with his eyes is more appealing than the thought that I look disgusting and he is genuinely concerned for my health.
Sofia hooks her arm around his neck and tugs him back onto his bed, giggling all the way. He laughs through his fall, too, smooshing her, then rolls over so he’s on top and rubs her nose with his. She still has her arms wrapped around his neck.
“Take a long, long shower, please, Liam,” she purrs, pulling his face in close to hers again. “Someone lasts a while.” Then she leans back and laughs.
He bites his lip beneath a grin and does a weird little hip wiggle, and she closes her eyes and pulls him in close so they can kiss. Her lips are devilishly red. I can see their tongues touching, and their kiss is slow and intimate, like the kiss of a few old lovers, reunited. Actually, that’s what they are--they dated in high school for a while, then broke up when he caught her with her legs wrapped around one of his basketball buddies at a party. Then, they ran into each other at a Starbucks here in the city, got to talking, she apologized for cheating on him, he found out she goes to school only a four-minute train ride away, and they started to rekindle their romance. Like a fanfiction come to life. Coffee shop and everything. They’ve been canoodling in our room ever since. Like, for the past month. The worst part has to be how freaking nice she is.
And I’m not jealous! I’m very-not jealous.
They’re still kissing that intimate, cute shit, until he leans back with the softest smile I’ve ever seen on his face, and I can feel myself turning red. I clear my throat.
“You’re right. I do need a shower. I’ve got another date in a half hour, anyway,” I snap.
“Ooh, get it,” Sofia mutters from underneath Noah. “Make sure you’re using condoms, kiddo. They’re important. STDs are not it.”
Noah smiles at her again, then looks at me, then back at her. I pull my shirt off, and catch him looking back one more time before he leans down and nuzzles into her neck, making her laugh and curl her legs up around him.
I grab my shower things and storm out, slamming the door behind me. I don’t have a date, but I will, just so I don’t have to watch the two of them be all happy and canoodley. It’s annoying, and they really don’t need to rub it in like that. Whatever.
Two hours later, I’m spilling my guts to a guy who probably wants to be up in them.
“You know? And I’m not jealous, but I just think--”
“It sounds like you’re jealous,” he replies, swirling his drink in one hand. “You only hit me up to avoid looking at your crush be happy with someone else.” I frown at my burger.
“I am not jealous. What do you know? You’re just some random guy that I hit up on Grindr!”
“... that talked back to you because he’s avoiding talking to his crush,” he deadpans back. He knocks back another swig of his water like it’s whiskey. His head is layered with tight black curls. Honestly, he’s not bad to look at. He was worth hitting up to sleep with, at least. But his personality so far leaves much to be desired.
“Yeah, well, whatever. You sort of suck, dude.”
“Jaxon. My name’s Jaxon. Call me Jax.”
“I don’t intend on calling you again after tonight, to be honest. You’re gonna hit it and quit it, babe.”
He leans back with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. His pasta sits mostly untouched.
“Do I look like a top to you?”
“Erm, well, I guess,” I flounder. If I was planning on bottoming tonight, a burger wasn’t the best idea, anyway.
“I don’t top. Sorry to disappoint. Thought my profile said that.”
“Well, I mean, you know, who really looks at those things anyway?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light. “People just hit up guys that are hot.” He--Jaxon--rolls his eyes at me and takes another heavy swig of his water. It’s almost gone. Mine sits beside me, untouched.
“The assholes do. The ones that don’t have much human decency. Yeah. That’s you, right? That’s another reason why it’s so clear that you’re running from facing your feelings--’cause your profile is really detailed, like you expect people to read it.”
“Okay, Mister Psychic. If you know what I’m thinking so well, then what number am I picturing in my head?”
“You aren’t picturing a number, you’re picturing me bent over this table.”
“Actually, I was picturing forty-seven.”
“Rats,” he deadpans, making a swipe across the air with a snap of his fingers along the way before turning back to his pasta. “There goes my backup career as a medium.”
“What, uh, what’s your major, anyway?”
He wrinkles his nose at me.
“Since when do you care?” he asks with a mouthful of food. “You haven’t stopped talking about yourself all night.”
“Damn. You’re mean. I’m just trying to be polite, Jaxon. The hell kind of name is Jaxon, anyway? You don’t look like a Jaxon. You look like a…”
“Carlos? Juan? Pedro?”
“I was going to say Marcus.”
“Marcus is an ugly name.”
“I don’t disagree.”
I sigh and take another bite of my burger.
“You’re kind of mean, you know that?” I say. He shrugs.
“Maybe I’m just the kind of person you need in your life. Maybe no one gives you enough shit. Ever thought of that?” I shake my head.
“Everyone gives me shit. I don’t need you to, either.”
“Why not?”
“Why am I even still talking to you? You’re a stranger!”
“The stranger that you want to fuck to make your roommate jealous.”
“What do you think I should do instead, your worship?”
“Uh, talk to him?”
Jaxon’s sitting with a foot up on the booth now, so his knee is close to his face. His elbow is hooked on the peak of his knee and his fork is lazily stirring through his pasta. My burger is almost gone, and my fries are fading even faster. His soft little face is as sharp and mean as ever, and some curls are peeking down the front, blocking his eyes from my view.
“What exactly should I say? Oh, hey, Noah, I know you’re straight and like the vag n’stuff, but me, your two-years younger gay roommate who you treat like a little brother dreams about waking you up with a blowjob and is also super jealous of your smoking hot girlfriend. Mainly because I wish I was her and could wrap my legs around you and pull you into kisses and rub our noses together and get married and have two dogs and two cats and seven kids and I know that it isn’t physically possible for us to have biological kids but we should practice every night just in case you can get me pregnant just by being so powerful and hot…”
Jaxon sets his fork down and sits up to lean across the table. He’s in punching distance.
“You’re kinda pathetic, mate.”
“Says the guy with negative two social skills.”
“I mean, it sounds like you’ve just got a crush on a straight guy. Nothing special. Happens to the best of us. I’ll help you make him jealous, if you think that’ll really work. It won’t, but I’ll help you. And if it involves loud sex, I’m also in. Just like, when you hit me up again for more advice, don’t be awkward about the fact that you were in me.”
“Why would I ever hit you up again? Why would you want me to? I just told you I’m using you to make my straight roommate jealous!”
He shrugs and finally leans all the way back to pull his knee back up by his face. He looks pretty small and compact sitting like that. I guess it’s true what they say about shorter people being closer to the devil--he seems pretty angry and mean.”
“I think you’re entertaining. Plus, we sit by each other in ANTH 101.”
“We what?”
He shrugs again.
“I was just gonna let you figure it out, but it occurred to me that you’re so self-absorbed that you’d notice in the middle of fucking me and pull out just to deal with the trauma of accidentally fucking a classmate.”
“So-you just-you-what?”
“Dude. You’re stuck with me. Isn’t that clear? Are you done with that damn burger yet? I want to watch the drama of your roommate walking in on us.”
This time, I shake my head.
“You are so fucking crazy, dude.”
“Yeah, probably.”
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