CHAPTER 1
I was nineteen and still trying to figure out this whole life thing when I moved into a cramped little apartment with my friend, Mike. To him, we were just two guys splitting rent, living off takeout, and laughing at dumb shows late at night. But for me, it was never that simple. Somewhere along the way, I had developed a crush on him. It wasn’t something I planned, and it was definitely not something he knew. So I kept it to myself, or at least tried to.
After moving in together Mike started seeing a girl, Jessica. Every so often he brought her over. Even though they tried to not make too much noise to not bother me when she was here, the walls were so thin that even the tiniest sound could be heard. Their laughter from his room, the quick footsteps down the hall, doors shutting a little too fast… and moaning. Yes, moaning.
The first time I heard Mike’s moans through the bedroom wall, everything inside me tightened. The tone was low and smooth, curling around the edges like velvet. I tried to focus on falling asleep, but every moan seemed to land directly on my skin, on my cock, sparking nerves I didn’t even know were waiting. The moaning was almost too much. The rhythm switched, from warm and intimate to rough and wild. By the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall I could tell when he was going in and out slowly or when he was pounding her as if there was no tomorrow. By the time they had already finished, the apartment had fallen into the most deafening silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of my cock throbbing hard inside my underwear. I tried to ignore it, getting turned to the sound of my flatmate having sex didn't seem appropriate. I ended up falling asleep in the midst of fighting the urge to touch myself. The next morning I had to put into the washing machine cum stained underwear and bedsheets. This was where my attraction to Mike started. Every time he had sex with Jessica I got caught between wanting to hear more of it and not knowing how much more I could take the next time it happened.
Mike was a fun and charming guy but he was also very stubborn. Advice just seemed to roll off him, whether it was about work, relationships, or something as simple as not getting a motorbike because driving one was dangerous and there was a high percentage of accidents. It didn't take long for him to become part of that statistics. One afternoon getting back home from class I found him sitting very still on the couch. Both arms were strapped up in bulky casts. With frustration lingering from his words he explained to me how a car didn't stop at a red light and hit him, sending him flying. His girlfriend was going to stay over to help him until he got those casts removed.
—
One morning, a couple weeks after the accident I was sleeping in the quietness of my room until a dull thud coming from the bathroom woke me up. Some clank echoing off the tiles followed. Groaning and cussing were next. I got up to see what was going on. Mike was in the bathroom, trying to get undressed, alone.
“Dude, what are you doing? Where’s Jessica?” I asked, watching the scene that unfolded before my eyes.
“Her mom called a bit ago about some family emergency, so she had to leave” he groaned, still fighting with his shirt. “And I need to take a shower but I can't even take this fucking shirt off by myself”.
I watched him struggle some more. He was definitely locked in a hopeless battle with his shirt. The thing was halfway over his head, all the fabric bunched up. He staggered a little, shaking his shoulders, muttering curses under his breath.
From somewhere inside the tangled mess of cotton came a muffled groan asking me for help. “Don’t just stand there, help me before this thing ends me.”
I bursted out laughing. “Man, you're left alone for five minutes and nearly get taken out by a shirt. Forget the motorbike accident, this is way more embarrassing.”
I walked over to him. “Hold still,” I said, trying to sound casual.
He stood still, arms awkwardly raised, letting me tug the fabric over his shoulders. My fingers brushed his skin. His skin was warm and soft. But under it his muscles felt solid and strong. Up close, his torso felt impossible to look away from. He looked as if he had been shaped by the hands of Michelangelo. There was a symmetry to him, a balance of strength and grace. He had the kind of body that made you think of statues in museums, except he was alive and right in front of me.
“There,” I managed to say once the shirt finally came free, crumpled in my hands. I forced a laugh. “Man, you’re hopeless.”
He smirked, but his eyes lingered on me a beat too long, and in that silence the air felt thick, like for a second something shifted between us.
I stepped back. I looked him up and down, and my eyes suddenly focused on his shorts. A flood of thoughts ran through my mind while my heart started racing. Would he need help taking them off? I had only ever seen Mike's cock once before. I had gotten home earlier than expected, and on my way to my room, I passed by his. He was sitting at his desk, the chair slightly tilted, a video of women with big breasts getting creampied playing on his computer monitor. Mike was jerking off. His cock was thick and veiny. His balls rested on his thighs, bouncing up and down with the motion of his hand. A sudden groan came from his throat, he stilled for a second. His cock started pulsing, held tight by his hand as if he was trying to keep it tamed and not make a big mess. Thick cum dripped down on top of his hand, covering his shaft all in white He took a few deep breaths before wiping his hand and his cock with his worn underwear. Since then, I had been having dreams about that thing that hides between his legs.
Back to the bathroom, I tried to keep my eyes anywhere else, on the wall, on the floor, on the dirty mirror in the cabinet, but my eyes betrayed me. Inevitably, they wandered back to him. Not to his shorts, but to his crotch this time. There was a weight to the way the fabric stretched that made it evident he wasn't wearing any underwear under those shorts. He was so big that he easily filled them. His cock wasn't hard, but wasn't fully soft either. His bulge looked as if his morning wood had overslept and was waking up right at that moment.
Without thinking, I stepped in closer again, invading his space. This time I got even closer than before. I was almost pressed against his chest. The sudden closeness made his breath hitch. His bulge was almost touching my navel. I looked down and let my fingers brush against the edge of his waistband. The contact drew a soft moan from his lips that lit something inside me, a spark that gave me the courage to go further.
I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his shorts and in a swift motion I pulled them down. His cock bounced, almost hitting my face. It was bigger than what I remembered. It was thick and heavy, it practically dared me to take it on. It was not the kind of cock you could suck politely, this one demanded your full attention. And I wanted to give it my full attention, but I held myself back. As far as I knew Mike was not into men and I did not want to ruin our friendship.
On my way to standing up, I leaned forward unconsciously, rubbing against his cock. The contact where our skin met was warm. I felt him shiver. His cock left a trail of precum on my abdomen. With his cock still squished against me I looked him in the eyes, “I'll give you a hand showering, you can't wet your casts”. My words and the thought of me helping him shower must have sent a tingle through his body because I suddenly felt his cock slightly push back against my navel. I looked down between our bodies, he was starting to get hard.
I suddenly came to the realization that in his current situation there was no way for him to get relief on his own. Even though his girlfriend had been over for the past couple of weeks, I hadn't heard them having sex in a while. I wondered when was the last time he had a chance to get off. Would he need a hand with that too?
To be continued…
Thank you for reading.
I hope you like it!!!
If you like this story and want to read more, chapters 2‑7 are out in my patreon: KurWrites
Kur.
I was nineteen and still trying to figure out this whole life thing when I moved into a cramped little apartment with my friend, Mike. To him, we were just two guys splitting rent, living off takeout, and laughing at dumb shows late at night. But for me, it was never that simple. Somewhere along the way, I had developed a crush on him. It wasn’t something I planned, and it was definitely not something he knew. So I kept it to myself, or at least tried to.
After moving in together Mike started seeing a girl, Jessica. Every so often he brought her over. Even though they tried to not make too much noise to not bother me when she was here, the walls were so thin that even the tiniest sound could be heard. Their laughter from his room, the quick footsteps down the hall, doors shutting a little too fast… and moaning. Yes, moaning.
The first time I heard Mike’s moans through the bedroom wall, everything inside me tightened. The tone was low and smooth, curling around the edges like velvet. I tried to focus on falling asleep, but every moan seemed to land directly on my skin, on my cock, sparking nerves I didn’t even know were waiting. The moaning was almost too much. The rhythm switched, from warm and intimate to rough and wild. By the sound of the bed frame hitting the wall I could tell when he was going in and out slowly or when he was pounding her as if there was no tomorrow. By the time they had already finished, the apartment had fallen into the most deafening silence. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of my cock throbbing hard inside my underwear. I tried to ignore it, getting turned to the sound of my flatmate having sex didn't seem appropriate. I ended up falling asleep in the midst of fighting the urge to touch myself. The next morning I had to put into the washing machine cum stained underwear and bedsheets. This was where my attraction to Mike started. Every time he had sex with Jessica I got caught between wanting to hear more of it and not knowing how much more I could take the next time it happened.
Mike was a fun and charming guy but he was also very stubborn. Advice just seemed to roll off him, whether it was about work, relationships, or something as simple as not getting a motorbike because driving one was dangerous and there was a high percentage of accidents. It didn't take long for him to become part of that statistics. One afternoon getting back home from class I found him sitting very still on the couch. Both arms were strapped up in bulky casts. With frustration lingering from his words he explained to me how a car didn't stop at a red light and hit him, sending him flying. His girlfriend was going to stay over to help him until he got those casts removed.
—
One morning, a couple weeks after the accident I was sleeping in the quietness of my room until a dull thud coming from the bathroom woke me up. Some clank echoing off the tiles followed. Groaning and cussing were next. I got up to see what was going on. Mike was in the bathroom, trying to get undressed, alone.
“Dude, what are you doing? Where’s Jessica?” I asked, watching the scene that unfolded before my eyes.
“Her mom called a bit ago about some family emergency, so she had to leave” he groaned, still fighting with his shirt. “And I need to take a shower but I can't even take this fucking shirt off by myself”.
I watched him struggle some more. He was definitely locked in a hopeless battle with his shirt. The thing was halfway over his head, all the fabric bunched up. He staggered a little, shaking his shoulders, muttering curses under his breath.
From somewhere inside the tangled mess of cotton came a muffled groan asking me for help. “Don’t just stand there, help me before this thing ends me.”
I bursted out laughing. “Man, you're left alone for five minutes and nearly get taken out by a shirt. Forget the motorbike accident, this is way more embarrassing.”
I walked over to him. “Hold still,” I said, trying to sound casual.
He stood still, arms awkwardly raised, letting me tug the fabric over his shoulders. My fingers brushed his skin. His skin was warm and soft. But under it his muscles felt solid and strong. Up close, his torso felt impossible to look away from. He looked as if he had been shaped by the hands of Michelangelo. There was a symmetry to him, a balance of strength and grace. He had the kind of body that made you think of statues in museums, except he was alive and right in front of me.
“There,” I managed to say once the shirt finally came free, crumpled in my hands. I forced a laugh. “Man, you’re hopeless.”
He smirked, but his eyes lingered on me a beat too long, and in that silence the air felt thick, like for a second something shifted between us.
I stepped back. I looked him up and down, and my eyes suddenly focused on his shorts. A flood of thoughts ran through my mind while my heart started racing. Would he need help taking them off? I had only ever seen Mike's cock once before. I had gotten home earlier than expected, and on my way to my room, I passed by his. He was sitting at his desk, the chair slightly tilted, a video of women with big breasts getting creampied playing on his computer monitor. Mike was jerking off. His cock was thick and veiny. His balls rested on his thighs, bouncing up and down with the motion of his hand. A sudden groan came from his throat, he stilled for a second. His cock started pulsing, held tight by his hand as if he was trying to keep it tamed and not make a big mess. Thick cum dripped down on top of his hand, covering his shaft all in white He took a few deep breaths before wiping his hand and his cock with his worn underwear. Since then, I had been having dreams about that thing that hides between his legs.
Back to the bathroom, I tried to keep my eyes anywhere else, on the wall, on the floor, on the dirty mirror in the cabinet, but my eyes betrayed me. Inevitably, they wandered back to him. Not to his shorts, but to his crotch this time. There was a weight to the way the fabric stretched that made it evident he wasn't wearing any underwear under those shorts. He was so big that he easily filled them. His cock wasn't hard, but wasn't fully soft either. His bulge looked as if his morning wood had overslept and was waking up right at that moment.
Without thinking, I stepped in closer again, invading his space. This time I got even closer than before. I was almost pressed against his chest. The sudden closeness made his breath hitch. His bulge was almost touching my navel. I looked down and let my fingers brush against the edge of his waistband. The contact drew a soft moan from his lips that lit something inside me, a spark that gave me the courage to go further.
I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his shorts and in a swift motion I pulled them down. His cock bounced, almost hitting my face. It was bigger than what I remembered. It was thick and heavy, it practically dared me to take it on. It was not the kind of cock you could suck politely, this one demanded your full attention. And I wanted to give it my full attention, but I held myself back. As far as I knew Mike was not into men and I did not want to ruin our friendship.
On my way to standing up, I leaned forward unconsciously, rubbing against his cock. The contact where our skin met was warm. I felt him shiver. His cock left a trail of precum on my abdomen. With his cock still squished against me I looked him in the eyes, “I'll give you a hand showering, you can't wet your casts”. My words and the thought of me helping him shower must have sent a tingle through his body because I suddenly felt his cock slightly push back against my navel. I looked down between our bodies, he was starting to get hard.
I suddenly came to the realization that in his current situation there was no way for him to get relief on his own. Even though his girlfriend had been over for the past couple of weeks, I hadn't heard them having sex in a while. I wondered when was the last time he had a chance to get off. Would he need a hand with that too?
To be continued…
Thank you for reading.
I hope you like it!!!
If you like this story and want to read more, chapters 2‑7 are out in my patreon: KurWrites
Kur.
