Gay Erotic Stories

My junior year in college, I shared a room in the men's dorm with Brad. He was a sophomore, a farm boy, played center in high school football, and beautifully built. He was about 5-9 and 190 pounds. He had bulging thighs, well defined pecs nicely covered in hair, big biceps and tight abs. He couldn't be called handsome, but was definitely attractive to me. I had known of my sexual orientation for some time, but never came out to a roommate. Instead I just learned to ignore the bare asses and cocks I saw every day in the dorm showers. The same went for Brad. I never let on that I found him to be such a turn-on. He never made an issue of nudity, and I had seen him bare more than just a few times. His dick was of no great size, but I, for one, never found a huge dick that important. Brad and I were friendly, but you could not say we were buddies. Our circle of friends did not overlap, and we did not do a lot of things together, other than walking down to the cafeteria to eat on a regular basis. We shared a room and got along well with each other. Brad's sexual life must have been a frustrating one, or at least rather infrequent, because he jerked off a lot. He dated from time to time, but I learned during our first few days together in the dorm room that he preferred to jack off most every night. No, not in plain sight or in front of me, but only after the lights were out and he assumed that I was asleep. He never mentioned his self-indulgence to me, nor did I ever say a word to him about it, because he provided me with a show that I must have watched dozens of times. His pattern of beating off was to wait about 30 minutes after we had turned off our lights, or else come into the dorm room late, assuming I was sleeping and then he’d get down to business. His usual pattern was to lie on the bed across the room from my own bed and then begin to play with his dick. I would watch in the dim light provided by the lighting in the hallway of the dorm that filtered through the transom over our door; street lighting that came through the dorm room windows provided more illumination, so I could see all that he was doing. He would begin by rubbing his dick through his briefs while fingering his nipples. His hand would go to his mouth and he would apply saliva to his nipples. At some point, he would push his briefs down to his knees and then over his ankles. Pushing the sheet completely off his body, he lay there nude with his dick pointing to the ceiling. Starting with a slow stroke on his cock, he clasped his nuts with his left hand. I could see his feet begin to point downward and his toes fan out. His breathing would become audible. Once in a while I could hear him faintly whispering a word or two: "Suck it for me" or "Fuck...Fuck...Fuck." Then he usually started a faster stroke after a few minutes of the slow action. When he began his faster stroke, I think he must have lost touch with where he was and that I was in the room only a matter of a few feet away. I have heard some guys confess that when they were having sex that they "lost it" when it came to being totally aware of their surroundings. Apparently Brad was one of those. His entire body responded to the stimulation he was giving himself and I could see and hear the jerking of his body against the sheets. He would periodically bend his knees and then suddenly extend them causing his butt to lift an inch or two off the bed. His body would violently and suddenly jerk as he beat his rod, and he often jerked his head from side to side making rustling noises on his pillow. The dim light allowed me to see his contorted facial expressions as he turned his head. Eyes squeezed shut and mouth open in an expression of complete pleasure, his upper lip tight, exposing his teeth. He sometimes sucked in breath through his open mouth, making clearly audible gasps. On a few occasions, he would regain his composure and pause for a few seconds, to test the tip of his dick for pre-cum. If it were there, he would taste it, making a faint kissing sound as he removed his finger from his lips. Twice, I watched him place his left hand to his ass hole and finger his butt. I never saw him insert his finger, but he definitely seemed to enjoy the sensation of stimulating his bung hole. Then it was back to stroking. He seldom shot his wad in only a few minutes. His jerk off sessions went on for some time before he got his nut. More jerking and twitching, clasping his nuts and sometimes pulling on his scrotum. I could always tell when the payoff was near. He apparently produced a huge amount of pre-cum just moments before he shot. I could hear the loud clicking-smacking noise of the lube as his fist slid up and down over the head of his dick. Then, at the supreme moment, he slowed his stroke to a short, slow pace near the head of his dick. He would lift his head off the pillow, with his chin pulled down tightly on his chest. He made a long sucking noise through gritted teeth, and extended his legs downward to the foot of the bed making his huge leg muscles flex. Then he shot. When his load jetted out of his dick in four or five spurts, he made a very faint, but almost feminine cry. Each spurt caused him to jerk and whimper. Brad shot hard. I saw on several occasions a portion of his load hit his face. After the final drops had spent themselves, he dropped his head back on the pillow. He would lay there for a few moments, breathing deeply and smearing the cum into the hair of his chest and abs in an absent minded way. Reaching for the corner of his bed sheet, he wiped the cum off his body. The room filled with the strong odor of his semen, and my own dick was dripping with lube in preparation for my own orgasm. Brad would pull his briefs over his hips and go to sleep. Most of the time, all I had to do was clasp my stiff rod and slowly pull it two or three times under the sheets of my bed and I would shoot my load into a waiting sock. Unlike Brad, I was silent and discreet when I got a nut.