Blake Hart
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Roommate Worship 2
🕑 Added 2025-01-10 14:30:01 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
It was impossible not to hear them. Wes wasn’t exactly shy about bringing girls back to the room, and tonight’s performance was… enthusiastic.
The rhythmic thumping of his bed against the wall, the muffled moans of the girl he was with, and Wes’s loud groans—it all echoed through the thin walls of our shared apartment. I should’ve put on headphones, drowned it out, done anything else. Instead, I was lying on my bed, rock hard, stroking myself to the very noises that made me hate and crave him all at once.
In my head, it wasn’t her he was fucking. It was me. I imagined his strong hands gripping my hips, his chest pressed against my back, that deep voice of his breathing heavily in my ear as he told me how tight I felt. My hand moved faster as the fantasy took over, the ache in my balls building with every sound that leaked through the wall.
I cursed myself between breaths. Why hadn’t I taken it further that night? When Wes all but handed me the opportunity, when he told me he was curious, ready to try something different? Instead of acting, I hid in my room, painfully hard, too scared to do anything but replay the moment in my head. Now, someone else was getting what I’d been fantasizing about since the day we met.
My pace quickened as I heard Wes’s movements grow frantic, his grunts louder and deeper. Her shrill cries reached a high, and then it happened—his voice, rough and breathless, filled the silence.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!”
That was it. I groaned into my pillow, my own orgasm crashing through me as thick ropes of cum spewed over my hand and stomach. My body shook, the tension unraveling in waves of equal amounts of pleasure and frustration. I stayed there for a moment, catching my breath, before cleaning up and pulling on some sweats.
I needed water. My mouth was dry, my head spinning, and I hoped a glass of cold water would settle me. Padding into the kitchen, I filled a glass at the sink, taking slow sips to steady myself. That’s when I heard it: the soft creak of Wes’s door opening.
Turning, I nearly dropped the glass.
He closed the door behind him and there he was, striding out of his room completely naked. His skin was still flushed from exertion, a few beads of sweat glistening under the dim light. His broad shoulders and defined chest looked like they belonged in an ad for Calvins, his abs tight and perfectly carved, leading down to the sharp V at his hips. And then there was his cock—dangling heavy between his muscular thighs, still semi-hard and glistening at the tip with what could only be one thing.
Wes didn’t so much as flinch at my wide-eyed stare. He walked toward the bathroom like it was the most natural thing in the world, scratching the back of his ass cheek, that trademark grin plastered on his face—the one that said, Yeah, I just got laid, and it was fucking great.
“Sup, man,” he said casually, his voice tinged with amusement as he passed me. He didn’t cover up, didn’t break stride, just disappeared into the bathroom with the door clicking shut behind him.
I stood there frozen, glass still in hand, my heart pounding in my chest. My eyes flicked to the spot where he’d been standing just before, and that’s when I saw it.
A small drop.
It was unmistakable—grayish, viscous, shimmering faintly against the tiled floor. Cum. More specifically, Wes’s cum.
I should’ve walked away, washed it off, I should’ve ignored it. But my body moved before my brain could catch up. Slowly, I knelt down, my breath shallow, my hands trembling as I leaned closer.
And then I did the single craziest thing I’d ever done in my life.
I pressed my tongue to the floor, tasting the tiny drop like it was the sweetest nectar I’d ever known. Was it salty? Probably. But to me, it was perfect—because it was his. My brain lit up like fireworks, every nerve in my body buzzing with the forbidden thrill of it.
“Dude?”
The word cut through the haze like a knife. My blood ran cold as I turned, slowly, to see Wes standing in the doorway, a roll of toilet paper in hand. His expression was unreadable—somewhere between confusion and curiosity, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
“I…” My voice cracked as I scrambled to my feet, heat rushing to my face. “I dropped something.”
He raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting from me to the floor where the drop had been. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a smirk—the same infuriatingly cocky smirk that made my knees weak every damn time.
“Sure,” he said, drawing out the word. His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, then he turned and walked back to his room, closing the door behind him without another word.
I stood there, my heart hammering, my body still trembling from what I’d just done. Shame yes, feeling like a creep, absolutely. Was it still worth it? Hell yes!
Comments
Blake
We all do wild things when we’re into someone, haha. Glad I can still keep you on your toes—stay tuned! 😅
Jules
Omfg hahaha I would have done the same thing! What happens next?!!!
Geoff S.
SO hot 🚀🚀🚀
