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Just after I first moved to Leeds, a mate of mine from Southampton came to
stay with me for a few nights. The bedsit I was renting back then was fairly
cramped and basic but Rob and I had known each other for three or four years and
weren’t too hung up about seeing each other in varying states of undress. The
fact there was only one single bed also wasn’t an issue because Rob said he
didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.
At that time, Rob was getting pretty serious with a girl called Ashlene in
Southampton and it was pretty clear, from the way he tried to casually bring her
name into just about every conversation we had, that his visit was causing him
to miss her enormously. I appreciated him forgoing a few days with her to be
with me, because he knew I was finding it difficult to find my feet in a new
city and was struggling to meet new friends.
Rob has always had a reputation for being constantly horny and his visit to
Leeds proved to be no exception. The guy seemed to have a permanent hard-on
making a rod in his boxer-briefs, from first thing in the morning making coffee
(“You gonna put cream in my coffee with that, mate?”) to last thing at night. I
made a comment about him needing to play with it, rather hoping we might do it
together because I’ve always enjoyed the extra dimension of intimacy mutual
masturbation brings to a friendship between two straight men, but he flatly
refused. He said he’d always believed that wanking is for guys without
girlfriends; guys in a relationship should devote their sexual energies to their
partners.
“But what if she happens to have a headache or something?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “Well, yeah, I suppose that’s okay. As long as I’m with her when
I’m doing it and focussing on her.”
I smiled. “I’ve never had any issues with wanking, in or out of a relationship.”
“Yeah. I heard you giving yourself a quiet once over last night, mate.” He
grinned at my self-conscious blush. “I wasn’t gonna say anything about it, you
know...”
“Sorry. I just kind of felt the urge.” I had thought I was being very discrete
about it.
He laughed. “I don’t have a problem with it, Seb. It’s just that I don’t feel
right about doing it if I’m supposed to be being faithful to a girl.”
“So you live with a constant hard-on?”
“They’re not quite constant,” he chuckled. “And they’re a sort of reminder of
what’s waiting for me when I get back to Southampton.”
The last night Rob stayed with me was partly spent trying to rig up my old and
battered mobile phone to make a call to Ashlene. He’d forgotten to bring his
charger with him and his phone had finally given up and died while he’d been
talking to her the previous evening. I’d been meaning to buy a new phone for
about a year, but had never found the time to.
“It’s got loads of credit on it,” I explained to him as I tried to find it among
the boxes of stuff I’d brought up with me from Southampton. “It’s just that –
well, I guess I must have dropped it, so the battery doesn’t fit properly and it
can’t hold a charge. As long as it’s plugged in all the time, though, it’s
fine...”
“Hence the term ‘mobile’ phone, huh?”
I smiled, pulling the phone and its tangled charger from its hiding place among
my boxed up CD collection.
It turned out that the charger also wasn’t exactly in pristine working order.
The cable coming out from the chunky plug was a bit loose and it had to be held
in exactly the right position otherwise the phone wouldn’t receive any
electricity.
“Have you got any tape we could use to stick it down?” Rob asked.
“You wanna look for some among that lot?” I asked him, gesturing to my pile of
boxes.
We eventually managed to get the phone working so long as Rob held onto the plug
with one hand and held the handset, including its loose battery, with the other.
“I’ll give her a call after we’ve had a few beers, mate,” he said. “She doesn’t
get home from work ‘til after twelve.”
We went out for a few drinks, trying to work out which of the many pubs
littering the streets around my bedsit should become my ‘local’. After sampling
half a dozen, we decided that it might be safer to buy some cans and hire a
couple of movies from the Seven Eleven at the end of my street.
We were both feeling pretty merry by the time we stripped down to our underwear,
preparing to turn in for the night at about one o’clock in the morning.
While Rob was pouring us one last night-cap, I noticed my mobile phone on the
floor and called over to Rob, “Hey, weren’t you going to call Ashlene?”
“Shit, yeah! I completely forgot!”
I glanced at the front of his underwear, a pair of pale grey boxer briefs.
Although half-hidden by his teeshirt, his cock was clearly limp inside them.
“Looks like your reminder’s a bit too drunk this evening...”
Rob laughed. “Yeah, this must be the one time it’s given me a bit of peace...”
We put the mobile phone together and Rob made his call sitting on my bed, the
only place where he could comfortably reach a plug socket to hold the phone’s
loose power cable in place.
I gave him as much space as I could to talk with Ashlene in the confines of the
bedsit, pretending to watch the late night drivel on television and flicking
through an old tattered copy of FHM.
While I was pouring myself one last can – there was no point pouring one for Rob
because he needed both hands to keep the phone working – I glanced over at him
and saw that his boxer briefs were once again bulging outwards with the thick
rod of his erection. Just speaking with his girlfriend was enough to get him
horny; perhaps if I’d have gone as long without sex, even the self-administered
kind, I’d be similarly so easily aroused.
Rob saw me glancing over at the front of his underwear and laughed,
half-apologetically, “Forgive the stiffie, mate, but she’s talking dirty to me!”
I laughed back, “I wouldn’t worry – you’ve been pretty much poking my eye out
with it for three days...”
Rob chuckled and then said to Ashlene, “Seb can’t complain about me having
hard-ons – not when I have to listen to him jerking his off half the night.”
I smiled, though was a little surprised that he would mention that to a girl I
hadn’t even met yet.
He listened to her reply and chuckled, “If you keep talking like that, I might
have to do something with my own...”
She said something else and he replied, “Really? Well, it’s a pity I haven’t any
free hands...”
Another pause while he listened to Ashlene and then he whispered over to me with
a mischievous smirk, “She says she’s gonna act as my hand... she likes listening
to me getting off on what she’s saying.”
I grinned and nodded.
He said to Ashelene, “So describe what you’re gonna do to me...”
Another pause, then, “Yeah... I like the sound of that... go on...”
His cock throbbed demandingly inside his tightly-fitting underwear. A small wet
patch was forming where the clearly-defined swollen head was pressing into the
material.
Ashlene must have mentioned her discomfort about me being in the room but Rob
disregarded my presence as a non-issue: “Seb’s cool... come on, I wanna hear
more...”
She continued talking to him and he grinned broadly. “That’s right... yeah...
slow, how I like it...”
I had a sudden idea which I knew could turn unpleasant if Rob took it the wrong
way but I thought was well worth the risk.
I walked over to my bed where Rob was sitting, one hand firmly holding the
faulty plug and the other the broken battery case. I placed my hand gently on
the thick mound his cock was making in his boxer briefs and rubbed my fingers
slowly up and down his six or seven inch length.
Rob had been so immersed in hearing what Ashlene was saying to him that he
hadn’t seen me approach. He jumped back at my touch and looked shocked that I
was stroking his cock through his underwear.
I whispered, “Just keep talking to her, mate... I’ll do the rest...”
His mouth formed a small, hesitant smile and then he said to Ashlene, “Sorry –
no, it was just Seb heading off for a shower. We’re all alone now...”
She said something to him and he giggled, “Yeah... that’d be good...”
I kept slowly rubbing his cock through the thin material of his boxer briefs,
enjoying the sensation of its hard stem throbbing against my fingers.
He said, directing the instruction at her but grinning at me, “That’s right...
nice and slow at first... squeeze the head of it...”
I used my thumb and forefinger to squeeze the fattened head of Rob’s cock, using
the rest of my fingers to continue rubbing his shaft and quickening the pace a
little as I saw he was enjoying what I was doing.
He said, his eyes closed, “That’s good... yeah... that’s nice...”
I saw the wet patch on his underwear was steadily growing as his slit oozed
copious dribbles of precum.
Carefully I pushed the waistband of his boxer briefs down to withdraw his cock
from them. Rob’s eyes flashed open and he looked uncertain about whether he
wanted me to continue. I smiled and whispered, “Relax, mate...”
I continued to hitch his underwear down and he helped me by raising his arse off
the bed enough for me to tuck the waistband underneath his large, hairy balls.
Although I’d seen Rob’s cock in its limp state many times over the years, his
erection looked larger and much thicker than I had imagined it would. The
helmet-shaped head of it was a dark, angry red colour and it glistened with the
stickiness of his precum. The shaft of it was coursed with veins and swathed in
a thick bush of dark pubic hair.
He muttered to Ashlene, “Yeah... now you can pull it out... wank it properly...”
I wrapped my fingers around his stem and gently gripped his foreskin to ease it
back and forth across his large, inflamed cock head. Beads of precum oozed from
his piss slit and were smeared across the taut, shiny skin of his helmet by the
sweeping back and forth of his tight foreskin.
His girlfriend said something to him which made him giggle again. He glanced
down at my hand gently massaging the length of his cock and then mouthed over to
me, his mouth a broad grin, “You sick fuck!”
My own cock was by now rock hard inside my white briefs: at nearly eight inches,
it’s difficult to conceal when I’m aroused, but Rob was so focussed on what his
girlfriend was saying to him on the phone that I don’t think he noticed how
excited I’d become.
He muttered, “Go a bit faster...”
I began wanking him more quickly and he groaned his approval. His cock throbbed
in my hand, the veined stem swelling to become even harder and the ripened head
fattening so that it was difficult to get his foreskin across its bloated rim.
Rob’s erection had a sharp, musky aroma: a far more powerfully sexual smell than
my own cock produces when I’m aroused. I enjoyed inhaling its acrid, masculine
odour; the enticing combination of his strongly-scented pheromones along with
sweat from his balls and precum from his weeping slit.
He continued listening to whatever Ashlene was saying to him, grunting his
approval while enjoying the sensation of my hand wanking him at a steadily
quickening pace. I noticed his eyes were tightly closed; he was obviously
imagining that my hand belonged to his girlfriend and that she was masturbating
him in the way she was describing.
He muttered, a little breathlessly, “You wanna play with my arse?”
At first I thought he’d directed that at me, but then he went on, clearly
talking to Ashlene, “You know how much I love it...”
Marvelling at how liberated Ashlene must be (my own girlfriends have usually
recoiled at the suggestion of involving my arse in sex), I grabbed his boxer
briefs just below his hips and pulled them down his legs. Before I threw them
onto the floor, I noticed how the front of them had been stretched and distended
from his almost constant erections during the day.
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