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 After Jason moved out (and in with his girlfriend,) I had a roommate named
Jim. Even though he was straight, Jim knew I was gay and wasn't at all
homophobic. Within a couple weeks of moving in, he began walking
around the house in his boxers. After a couple months, he came out of his
bedroom one morning with the remnants of a waking hard-on still tenting
his baggy boxers. It was the first time I'd seen him partially aroused, and
the fantasies I'd been having about him suddenly became almost too much
to bear. I wanted him! Bad!

One Sunday morning I was sitting in the living room, drinking coffee and
watching TV, when I heard a quiet noise coming from Jim's room. Since
the house was old, and the furnace didn't work very well, we usually slept
with our bedroom doors open about 6 inches to keep from freezing to
death during the night. Hearing noises that morning, I quietly put my
coffee cup down and tip-toed to the hallway, stopping just outside his
door.

Jim's bed was against the same wall as the door so, from my vantage, I
could see him pretty much from the shoulders down. He had peeled back
the covers, except for the sheet, and I could clearly make out his legs,
stretched spread eagle, under the sheet. He was grinding his heels
against the bed and, with one hand, was holding the sheet slightly off his
body. It didn't take long for me to realize what he was doing. His other
hand, under the sheet, was moving up and down at waist level. Damn!
He was jacking off!

I tried to control my breathing, watching as he silently squirmed around on
the bed, working to get himself off. I couldn't see his cock, but could make
out each stroke of his hand as he pumped it under the sheet. I watched
the motion of his hand moving faster and faster until he let out a low sigh
and shot his load on his stomach. He switched hands holding the sheet,
then reached to his night stand to pull a handful of Kleenex from the box
next to his alarm clock.

At that point I quickly tip-toed back to the living room and finished drinking
my coffee (which had gotten quite cold.) A few minutes later, I heard his
door open and he walked to the bathroom. When he entered the living
room a couple minutes later, his cock was swinging, half hard, in his
boxers. He said "morning" as he passed me on his way to the kitchen to
grab a cup of coffee. I said "morning" in response as I watched his thick,
half hard cock, which made one leg of his boxers stand out, pass by me.