Because he’s wearing briefs.
Not boxer briefs.
Briefs.
They cling to his skin, snug and bright against his tan, leaving nothing to the imagination. Last night, his bare legs tangled with mine, but he put on his khakis first thing in the morning.He probably chose these briefs to avoid lines under his pants or something. Not to audition for pornography.
His butt is of the bubble variety, and I swallow again, wondering what it would feel like to grasp his cheeks in my hand, wondering what it would feel like to slide his thin cotton fabric down, wondering what it would be like to spread his cheeks and nestle my face...
No.
I’m not wondering that.
Obviously not.
Or if I am, somewhat wondering that, it’s only because girls also have butts. So you could say I’m acting like a heterosexual man stuck on a tropical island.
And if my bulge swells, well, that’s only additional evidence of my overall masculinity. Even my libido isn’t scared away by the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
I mean, it might be gay if I were to think about Cal’s cock.
Which I’m not thinking about.
I mean, I’ve never seen his cock before. I don’t know if it’s long and thick, scrunched into his tight briefs, and desperate to get out. Maybe it’s small and compact, with tight balls that rise up. Or maybe his cock is somewhat lopsided, a secret only people who’ve slept with him know.
My bulge is bigger than before. Blood rushes to it. It wants to be touched, and I want to touch it.
I slide my gaze toward Cal. He’s stepping into the water now. He moves tentatively, and I remember he doesn’t know how to swim. He finally sits down in the shallow water.
His body must be slick and slippery now, the way he gets if he has shower sex. Does he have shower sex? Has anyone squeezed into a shower with him? The stall so narrow their limbs touched, their shoulders bumped into each other, their cocks bumping?
Has anyone taken Cal’s cock in his hand and pressed it against his own? Like they do in some porn videos? The kind of porn I won’t admit to watching, but which pulls me in anyway, when images of it appear on the sidebar of my porn vehicle of choice. When my gaze darts from breasts and slick feminine parts to something more forbidden, something that sends blood rushing through my body even though it shouldn’t, even though I don’t want it to.
I reach down and touch my cock.
It pulses beneath my fingers. Clearly, I’m so horny that even thoughts about male anatomical parts hasn’t deflated it.
I move my fingers over my loose trunks, and it becomes harder, firmer, longer.
And why shouldn’t it? Cal is in the water now. This might be the most privacy I have. I’ve already been way too on edge around him, noticing things I shouldn’t.
It’s practically my duty to take care of this, well, sizable issue. You could say it’s the responsible thing to do, and God knows, responsible behavior is something I’ve been lacking.
I slide my hand inside my trunks. Cal is in the water. No one is here.
This is perfect.
I move my hand over my rod. I don’t have lube with me, and I miss my bedside cabinet at home, but pre-cum spills from my slit. I widen my stance, then lean against the trunk of the tree. I loosen the tie on my trunks. I look indecent, I feel indecent.
And still, I can’t stop running my fingers over and over my cock. I move my other hand further down, cupping my balls.
And I press my lips together to keep to moaning.
Heat moves through me. Every cell in my body seems to expand. And the scent of my own pre-cum hits my nostrils.
What does Cal’s cum smell like? What would it feel like to move my hand over his hard cock? What does he like?
Maybe he likes thrusting into people. Maybe he would slide my trunks all the way down, and maybe he would spread my cheeks. Maybe he would slide his leaking cock over my puckered hole, pressing against it over and over. Would he open me up with his fingers? Or just move his cock slowly into me?
