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The Gooner Gang - Part 3
🕑 Added 2025-07-01 00:55:45 +0000 UTCPOV: Caleb
The air in my room was thick.
After the cum, the laughs, the casual “we’re just bros” shoulder punches, we all grabbed blankets and pillows and crashed where we could. Lucas stretched out on my bed, legs wide open like he owned the place. Tom took the beanbag chair, hugging a hoodie like a pillow. Jake and I ended up side by side on the floor, just a thin comforter between us and the hardwood.
Lights off. TV glowing faintly. My heart still pounding.
I could still smell the cum in the air. Still feel Jake’s hand on my cock, warm and tight and confident. My body hadn’t fully cooled down. My dick was soft but twitching, sensitive under the fabric of my pajama shorts.
I turned slightly. Jake was on his back, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling like he wasn’t tired at all.
He noticed me and smirked. Just a little. Just for a second.
Fuck.
I rolled onto my side, facing away, trying to sleep. But my brain was on fire. I kept replaying the way he looked when he came, the way his mouth dropped open, the weight of his cock in my hand. I felt myself getting hard again—slow, steady, dangerous.
I slipped my hand down and started rubbing through my shorts. Just a little. Just enough to ease the ache.
A soft moan slipped from my mouth.
“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath, trying to stop.
And that’s when I felt it.
Movement.
Jake shifted next to me—rolled onto his side, toward me. I froze. My heart shot into my throat.
Was he… awake?
“Couldn’t sleep either?” he whispered.
I turned slowly. He was staring at me, eyes half-lidded in the dark, a knowing grin spreading across his face.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“You touching yourself again?” he asked, like it was nothing. Like we were just talking about the weather.
I swallowed hard. “I… yeah.”
Jake leaned in closer. “You want help?”
My whole body tensed.
“I—” I started, but stopped. I looked around. Lucas snored softly on the bed. Tom shifted, still out cold.
If they found out…
“I should go to the bathroom,” I whispered, sitting up. “Just to finish.”
Jake sat up too. “I’ll come.”
Fuck.
We crept out of the room like we were sneaking out to rob a store, every step down the hall making my cock harder. The second we were inside the bathroom, I locked the door behind us. The fan hummed quietly above. The light was harsh and ugly, but it didn’t matter.
Jake leaned against the counter, arms crossed, staring at me.
I stared back.
“This is crazy,” I said.
He shrugged. “Kinda hot, though.”
“I thought you were straight.”
He smiled. “I don’t think straight guys jerk off their best friend in a room full of dudes.”
I laughed softly, nervous. “You’re not wrong.”
There was silence for a beat. Then:
“You still hard?” he asked.
I nodded.
“So am I.”
He stepped forward, slow. His cock was already pressing against his pajama waistband, a thick outline straining under the fabric. I could see the tip of it, poking just above the elastic.
“I’ve been thinking about it since we stopped,” he said. “Couldn’t sleep. Just kept seeing your face when you came.”
My breath caught. “Fuck.”
We were inches apart now.
He slid a hand into my waistband and found my cock instantly. It jumped into his palm like it belonged there. I gasped, clutching his hips, digging my fingers into his skin.
“You like that?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Don’t stop.”
He pulled my shorts down until my dick popped free—hard, red, leaking. His hand wrapped around it again and started stroking, smooth and slow, just enough pressure to make my knees shake.
I did the same to him—yanked his shorts down and grabbed his cock. It was already soaked with precum, throbbing in my fist.
We stood there, jerking each other off, breathing heavy, eyes locked like we were trying to burn this moment into our skin.
Then Jake leaned in. His mouth brushed mine, just barely.
I paused. Heart thundering.
“You want me to?” he asked, voice barely there.
“Yes,” I breathed.
He kissed me.
It was soft at first—testing the waters, like he was scared he’d regret it—but then we both leaned into it. Lips pressed hard. Tongues tangled. Our hips ground together, our cocks sliding against each other between our fists.
It was messy. Wet. Fucking desperate.
Jake pulled back, panting, then dropped to his knees like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered.
He looked up at me as he wrapped his lips around my cock—slow, smooth, deep. His mouth was hot. Tight. He sucked like he wanted it, like he’d done it before, taking me in all the way, moaning softly as I hit the back of his throat.
I braced myself on the sink, shivering.
“Fuck, Jake—”
He sucked harder. Sloppier. His spit ran down my shaft, pooling at the base. He pulled off with a pop and stroked me, panting.
“Your turn.”
I didn’t hesitate.
I dropped down, grabbed his cock, and took him in my mouth. He tasted like skin and salt and precum. I sucked him like I needed it, like I was starving. My hand worked his base while my mouth focused on the tip, flicking my tongue under the head, letting him hear every messy sound.
“Fuck, Caleb,” he groaned, grabbing my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I didn’t.
We switched again. Back to our hands, jerking each other fast now, breathing each other in, lips brushing between moans.
“Gonna cum,” he whispered.
“Me too.”
We didn’t stop.
His forehead pressed against mine. His breath was shaky.
And then we both exploded—him first, hot spurts of cum hitting my wrist, his body shaking. I followed a second later, gasping, painting his hand, our thighs, the cold bathroom tile.
We collapsed against the wall, panting, soaked in sweat and cum.
Silence.
Then Jake said, “We should definitely goon more often.”
I laughed, breathless.
No way I was sleeping now.
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PART 4 Preview:
It wasn’t like the night before—tense and secretive. This felt… greedy. Like we needed this.
Clothes were barely a thought. My shorts ended up somewhere on the floor, and his weren’t far behind. We lay side by side, our hands finding each other’s cocks again like we were programmed to do it.
Coming very soon!
