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“You can still hear that?” My arms drop to my sides as my chest deflates. I really thought I’d gotten quieter.
Cruz’s lip ticks up a fraction at the corner. “For a smaller guy you’re sorta loud.”
“I thought you said sound carries. And I’m not small.” I cross my arms again.
“Smaller than me.”
“The entire student body is smaller than you. What’s your point?” I snap. Wow, I really am pissy.
“My point is there’s an obvious solution to fix…that.” He points at my crotch.
“Which is?”
He holds up his hands. “No cast.”
“Good for you. How do your cast-free hands help me?”
“Um,” His brows draw together like he’s not following. That makes two of us.
“Could we please talk about something else. It’s not going to go away until we do.”
“Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m saying I can help.”
“Help how?” I throw my arms up.
Cruz rolls his eyes as if he can’t believe I’m not following him. Then grabs me by the shoulder, spins me around and steps behind me, pinning my back to his chest and cupping my dick in his large palm. “I gotchu,” he grunts in my ear.
“Whoa, hey, ungh.” My eyelids flutter in a fight to stay open as he gives me a firm squeeze, and a jolt of sheer ecstasy zings up my spine. “Wha… What?”
“I told you, I gotchu.” Cruz’s voice is almost raspy as he slides his hand inside my pants and closes his fist around my length, taking the brunt of my weight as if I’m a feather when my knees buckle on a toe-curling tug.
And another.
Over and over.
“This is… Holy… Oh God…” My hips buck forward with each slow, deliberate pull, like my cock is tethered to his hand, and it feels so good I don’t even care that I’m shamelessly chasing his fist like it’s my own personal dick sleeve.
Behind me Cruz gives a slight chuckle as he tugs my pants below my groin with one hand and leisurely flicks his wrist to jerk my cock with the other. “As often as you visit the shower, I had a feeling you were getting pretty pent up. Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”
“But…” My body shudders when he squeezes my crown. “But you’re ACE. Probably straight.”
“So?”
“Straight ACE guys don’t hold their roommate’s dicks.” I press my back against his chest for leverage as I push my length into his grip, circling my hips when I bottom out in his fist. It’s a silent plea to go faster, and either he doesn’t realize that, or he doesn’t care since he doesn’t comply.
That’s both infuriating and oddly satisfying since I’m torn between the desperate need for relief and the blissful eroticism of another man’s hand sliding over my shaft. Dear God, he’s got a firm grip.
“You do know straight ACE doesn’t mean homophobe, right? Besides, roommates should take care of each other.”
“Not like…fuck, that feels good. Seriously though, you don’t even like sex. Wha—God, do that again,” I pant as his thumb grazes my slit.
This time he does oblige, swiping the digit back and forth and around my tip, spreading my precum all over my head, and I’m pretty sure the only way to describe the moan that rumbles up my throat is wanton. Fuck.
“I never said I don’t like it, I said I don’t feel the urge to have it. Not like other people do.”
“But… Oh shit.” My pelvis surges forward when he starts pumping me again, a touch faster this time, although still not enough to tip me over the edge. It’s enough to make my breath come in rapid spurts, though. “That still doesn’t explain this.”
“It’s pretty self-explanatory, don’t you think? You needed a hand, I’ve got one.” He twists his wrist when he reaches my crown, and my head gets so heavy it falls against his chest with a guttural moan.
