Date: Sun, 14 Feb 2021 17:49:37 -0600 From: Cameron D. James Subject: The Cumpetition THE CUMPETITION I don't quite know how I got here, but here I am. I'm half drunk and so is my college roommate. We're both buck naked. And we've both got our cocks in our hands. It's a competition over who can shoot the furthest. If I thought hard enough, I could figure out how I got into this situation. I've had a crush on my straightish roommate for a while now and had dropped several hints that I was interested. He'd told me a couple nights ago that he was heteroflexible and that he'd go for a guy if the mood was right. In our COVID lockdown Friday night drinks, celebrating the end of exams, I kept trying to figure out how to get things in motion. Somehow, for reasons I don't quite get, a jerk off competition was what finally worked. We'd cleared the coffee table, just throwing everything to the floor, and we whipped our dicks out. I was already semi-hard, being around Jon did that to me. I was surprised, pleasantly so, to find that Jon had been in a similar state of tumescence. And here we are. Jerking. It doesn't take me long to reach orgasm and shoot my wad. My hot, white cum streaks halfway across the coffee table, creating lines at least a couple feet long. I might've jerked off at this table once when I was alone and so I know that I'm capable of shooting farther, but this is still impressive. I glance over at Jon and he seems to be having trouble reaching orgasm. He's biting his bottom lip and jerking furiously, but he keeps looking at me. Perhaps it's my semi-drunkenness or perhaps I'm reading cues on a subconscious level, but I reach back and stroke his ass. With that simple touch, his eyes roll back in his head and he groans as cum shoots from him. Fuck, his shots are powerful. They easily stretch past mine. He groans and opens his eyes. I've taken my hand back already and neither of us acknowledge where it had been moments ago. "You lost," he says with a cocky grin. "I did..." I say. To be honest, I'm not disappointed. I got to see his cock, got to touch his ass, and, well, there's always the "embarrassing" humiliation that the loser has to endure. I don't even need him to prompt me to do the loser's task. I lower my body and start lapping up all the cum. I start with mine, quickly licking it up, leaving a streaky trail of saliva. When I start eating Jon's cum, though, I take it slower. I savour it. When I'm halfway across the table, I grip the edges of the table so I can keep pushing forth, not entirely oblivious to the fact that I'm presenting myself to Jon in the perfect "please fuck me" position. And then he touches me. He caresses my ass like I caressed his. Only his touch isn't as brief as mine had been. I try not to pause, try not to draw too much attention to what he's doing for fear of scaring him away. I keep licking up the cum. But I do shift my knees, spreading my legs just a bit. He groans as his fingertips slide down my crack and circle my hole. I keep licking the table. The cum is long gone, but I don't dare move from where I am. When I feel his warm tongue there, I'm both shocked and overwhelmed with pleasure. I never took Jon as someone who ate ass. His technique is a little messy, but it still feels good. I try my best to relax my core, to loosen my hole and send him a subtle signal. The tip of his tongue finally dips inside me and we both pause for a moment, both frozen in time like we're both worried about shattering this moment. But then he pushes his tongue in deeper. I let out the softest of moans and this seems to spur him on. After a thorough laving from his tongue, he suddenly gets up and abandons me, hurrying off to his bedroom. Before I can fall into the dumps of unrequited lust, his soft footfalls echo back to me. He wasn't retreating to his room in embarrassment, shame, or confusion. I hear the soft rip of a foil packet. I discreetly glance over my shoulder and watch as he rolls a condom on. Then he rips another foil packet open and I look away before we make eye contact that could end this moment. I need him and he needs this to be as non-gay as possible. His fingers find my ass again and slather it with cool lube from that second foil packet. Gently, he pushes a finger into my hole, lubing my insides, following it closely with a second. My ass welcomes him in. When he feels I'm loose enough, and thankfully I agree with him, he withdraws his fingers and a moment later I feel the sheathed head of his fat cock pressing against me. I spread my legs just a little more, giving him further invitation, making it a little easier for both of us. He lays his hand on my lower back and starts to push inside. I gasp when he breaches my tight ring--his cock is fatter than his fingers--and then I sink into the full pleasure as he pushes in the rest of the way. It's quick and quiet. I don't want to speak or even let out a moan of pleasure for fear for scaring him off. And I'm sure for him, he doesn't want to say anything for fear of acknowledging to himself what he's doing. Right now he's just putting his dick in a hole, but if either of us speaks, it'll be clear he's putting his dick in a man's hole. Heteroflexible or not, that could ruin the moment. While his rimming game could use some work, he's skilled with his dick. It's fat and fills me, he slides in and out at a good pace, and the head of it jabs my prostate every two or three thrusts. Without even touching myself, I'm brought up to the edge of orgasm. I do my best to stay utterly silent as pleasure rips through me and then shoots out between my legs along with my cum. I spray my load in a soft splatter on the floor beneath the coffee table. Jon is gripping my hips hard and his thrusting is starting to become erratic. His breathing gets reedy. Finally, he thrusts into me extra hard, and keeps our hips pressed together. There's no withdrawal. His body judders and his breath comes in sharp gasps. He's coming inside me, filling his condom. I can tell he enjoyed it immensely. A few moments later, he withdraws his dick and there's a tense moment of silence between us. I take a risk and look at him over my shoulder. He doesn't run away. "That was..." he says, seemingly unable to finish his sentence. "It definitely was..." I agree. I give him a soft smile and he gives me a smile back. "I wasn't expecting to..." he pauses as he searches for what he wants to say, eventually settling on, "...enjoy it so much." Taking a risk, I say, "We can always do more. I can show you a few things." He watches my eyes and something passes through his gaze. For a moment I wonder if I've pushed him too far. But then he says, "Why don't we move to the bedroom?" *** INFO *** Want to check out more by Cameron D. James? Visit http://www.indieerotica.com/cameron-d-james/ Please show your support by donating to Nifty to help keep these stories alive! Copyright (c) 2021, Cameron D. James. All rights reserved. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to real people, living or dead, or real situations is entirely coincidental.